#this is what happens when you finally get a grown up job

[maxarchive]

How are the emotions on this Saturday evening in Las Vegas? Is it an overriding relief? Is that the main thing?

An immense relief, but also a little bit more emotional than I was expecting, actually. Both from Max on the radio and I let Christian give him, well, let's say carry out all the complimentaries on the radio, because I choked up a little bit as well, and I think it just comes down to that relief at the end of what has been actually quite an intense year. Not quite as intense as 2021, but it at times ran it close.

Why is this one so special?

They're all special, don't get me wrong. Last year was special for very different reasons, but this one's special because of the effort and commitment that not only Max, but the whole team has had to put in to make it happen. Ok, the first half looked like it was a bit of a cruise, but actually we entered quite a difficult period, as everybody knows. But we had to work day and night to really try to understand the source of the problems and I think we've started to come out the other side, which is great news for the team, but it's also meant that our performances on track have improved and we saw the combination of that in Brazil as well.

Tell us a little bit more about the job that Max Verstappen has done this year. Would you say it's his best season so far?

The worrying thing for the grid is that Max is improving every year, which is frightening really because he's at an incredible level as it is, but in all areas he's working hard with the team, his racecraft on track, his qualifying laps, his consistency and also his ability to give up when you need to give up, and we saw that today, you know, he raced for what matter today rather than the final place on the podium.

In all of those areas you've just described, where has he made the most progress this year?

I think ultimately it just comes down to maturity and experience. Having been there three times before, I guess 2021 laid the foundations and now he's just becoming a very, very, very complete driver.

Since Miami, McLaren have been running you close. They've quite often been faster than you. Has there ever been a moment this year where you've doubted that you were going to win this championship?

I wouldn't say doubted, but certainly you don't take anything for granted. And as I said earlier, we took one race at a time, there was bit of a trend towards the middle of the year where things weren't going our way and we could see that other teams, not only McLaren, but other teams were making progress on us, relatively speaking and we had to do something. We had to make some changes and the team has come through on that. So kudos to them.

And how is your bond with Max evolved this year because it feels like this is the first time since you've been winning championships that you've been under a lot of strain together. And we did hear a few flare ups along the way, didn't we? Has it always been all sweetness and light or have there been-

Hungary springs to mind. We had actually a very quiet week after, I don't think there was a word spoken in the 3/4 days after the Hungary race, but we had a really good meeting in Spa together with Christian and Pierre just clearing the air. Not that there was ever any animosity, but I think sometimes when adrenaline is running that high, it's best just to leave things alone. Max and I are very similar in that respect. We're not one to bow down and give in very easily. So, yes, definitely that portion of the year springs to mind. But for the rest, again, it's a relationship that's grown over nine seasons. So we know each other very well. We work together very well. So long may that continue.

Well, let's throw it forward to 2025. It looks on paper like it might be incredibly close. Does that actually help someone like Max Verstappen because he makes no mistakes?

I think it helps him knowing that he has the ability to pull off results that perhaps aren't always there. And I think at the same time that maybe hurts or dents some of his competitors psychologically, not all of them, but perhaps some of them. But, you know, 2025 is a few months away. Now, I think more importantly, we need to finish the year on a high to keep morale in the team up over the winter because again it's been a really hard, hard year. And I think this was a bit of a unique, as everybody knows, it was a bit of a unique event with the temperatures and the tyres behavior, et cetera. So I don't think it's a true reflection of the car performance out there today. We'll do our best to finish Qatar and Abu Dhabi on a high and hopefully grab another win or, or two. And then, yeah, next year is next year.

[witlesswitnesstm]

Hello tumblr, I’m having thoughts.

So, I’ve seen a billion cajillion arguments over Jayvik at this point and I think I have an opinion.

Yes, we need more depictions of intimate male friendships, but we also need more depictions of mlm romances. Most shows still shy away from mlm romances more than wlw romances because it makes men uncomfortable to see male attraction. Wlw romances are deemed to be more “palatable” for the general public because women are perceived as more “innocent and caring” when that’s not always the case. Not to mention those relationships are more easily objectified by men, which is gross. It’s a product of the patriarchy, putting all relationships into boxes just because of people’s genders, both mlm and wlw. I don’t think that’s what the Arcane team intended to do, but it still happens.

At the same time, fandom has always had a bit of a problem with viewing mlm dynamics as strictly sexual and ignoring women in fandom. It’s not fair to focus entirely on mlm ship dynamics within a show while ignoring actual characterization and pushing that belief onto everyone else. Or even blaming women for “getting in the way of mlm ships” (cough cough, looking at those Mel haters.)

This ties into a greater discussion of how men are often written more complex than women, making people want to focus on male relationships. Arcane, I feel like, does a pretty good job at making their women’s writing deeply complex and interesting, but, the finale really rushed over a lot of things to give precedence to Jayce and Viktor. (I love what we got for them, I just wish we had more time for other plots).

Despite a co-creator saying that Jayvik wasn’t romantic, I feel as though the whole team were on different pages as to how they wanted Jayvik to come across. There are so many parallels between Mel and Viktor, and hints that suggest romantic connection, that, I don’t really think you can just turn around and blame the fandom for forming logical conclusions based on what was shown. If they wanted a platonic relationship shown, they should’ve considered carefully what they were putting on screen, and considered audience interpretations. There are good depictions of friendship in arcane, and I especially like the m/f friendships like Jayce and Caitlyn or Vi, Or Vi and Loris, or Ambessa and Rictus. It shows they have the capability to make friendships that don’t have romantic tension at all, despite men and women practically always being shipped, so then, why do all these specific details for Jayvik?

Ambiguously canon mlm relationships are almost a little frustrating to me, because there’s always room for plausible deniability within homophobes. I’ve seen so many people shame others for liking Jayvik and calling them depraved losers and whatnot, and that’s just not, cool. But what’s also not cool is going after aspec people who find comfort in the fact that romance isn’t explicitly shown between Jayvik. I was frustrated at first that they kind of left their relationship up in the air, but I’ve grown to appreciate the different interpretations.

Anyway, something something at least we can all agree that they’re both smoking hot and we as the fandom should share them. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[thatsrightice]

I don’t have a problem guys I swear…

F/A-18 Blue Angel - US Air and Space Museum (2015)

Air Force One - US Air and Space Museum (2017)

P- 51 Mustang - EAA AirVenture (2018)

Remove Before Flight - EAA AirVenture (2018)

Apollo Spacecraft - US Air and Space Museum (2018)

B-25 Mitchell - EAA AirVenture (2018)

Lockheed P-38 Lightning - EAA AirVenture (2019)

Atlantis Shuttle - US Space & Rocket Center (2020?)

Remove Before Flight (RBF) C-5 - EAA AirVenture (2022)

Red Gulfstream RBF - Fall Career Fair (2022)

Blue Gulfstream RBF - Work (2023)

B-29 Superfortress RBF - EAA AirVenture (2023)

EAA RBF - EAA AirVenture (2023)

“I’d rather be flying” EAA Warbirds RBF - EAA AirVenture (2023)

B-17 Flying Fortress RBF - EAA AirVenture (2023)

Spinning Prop Plane - National Air Force Museum (2023)

[freedomfireflies]

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms. 

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable. 

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship. 

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.” 

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath. 

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers. 

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.” 

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you. 

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door.  "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything. 

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs. 

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit. 

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale. 

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper. 

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly. 

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle. 

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet. 

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch. 

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees. 

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard. 

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation. 

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him. 

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it. 

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?" 

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip. 

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free. 

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has. 

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years. 

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?" 

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want  something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head. 

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches. 

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing. 

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper. 

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up. 

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin. 

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back. 

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful. 

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument. 

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.” 

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it. 

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear. 

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you. 

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone. 

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in. 

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear. 

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle. 

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—" 

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high. 

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.78k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.

Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.

And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!

Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.

He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.

There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.

He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.

Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.

There’s no time to waste.

Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.

He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.

“D-do you need some-”

“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.

“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.

So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.

“I have a bomb.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.

Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.

Now’s his time to shine.

He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”

“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”

He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”

You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”

Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”

The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”

Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”

You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”

He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”

You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”

The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”

Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.

Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.

“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.

A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.

Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?

You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.

Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”

You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”

“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”

“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”

Oops.

He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.

You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.

Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.

“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”

“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.

Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.

A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[r1elle]

atsumu who just gets so annoyed at that stupid plushie on your bed.

at first, he denies it. he denies it because the whole matter is just so above and beyond him.

to be genuinely pissed at some stuffed animal? please. he’s THE MSBY Black Jackals’ Setter. a PRO volleyball player. and most importantly, a GROWN man. being jealous over some sewn up cotton? goodness.

but the nights you had abandoned and turned your back towards him just to unconsciously reach for that plushie and cuddle with it instead began to frequent more than atsumu could tolerate.

hes definitely death threatening that stuffed beast (his own choice of words) the morning after.

is this what those scientists in shows felt like when their own experiments went against them? because seeing that white teddy bear he had prided himself in buying as a gift for your anniversary come and replace him during the hours of your slumber wasn’t really the nicest feelings ever.

so, if you find a rather jolly and humming atsumu sipping his coffee at 8:30 am in the morning, just know that he’s feeling really accomplished and expecting your figure to be the only thing he’s holding from the moment you close your eyes, and up for when you open them once again.

“mornin’, baby. whats up with the upset brows?

oh, but don’t look at how the attic just so happened to have its entrance slightly ajar. unfortunately, doing a clean job wasn’t really in atsumu’s blood that day.

____

“atsumu, have you seen the bear you got me for our anniversary? i’m worried… i cant seem to find it. it’s just.. gone?”

“eh? that big thing? how would it even get lost in the first place?”

“i know.. it’s so weird..”

“maybe yer’ just not looking hard enough, sweet.”

“but how—?……also, why’s the attic open?”

“ya look beautiful, by the way.”

“wh—?”

“just woke up too. so gorgeous. wouldn’t expect less from ya. c’mon, let’s go on a walk.”

“but atsumu, the att—

“i think the tulips you planted finally bloomed. let’s check, hm?”

“i just planted them three days ago—?? hey! atsumu! ats—!!”

well. taking an unexpected walk around the neighbourhood on an empty stomach definitely didn’t make things any better that morning.

——

though, if it alleviates anything within you, perhaps do take note at the horror on atsumu’s face upon the sight of your child dusting off that same white teddy bear she had “found while treasure hunting in the attic!” six years later.

as you make a snide comment (totally not directed at your awfully tense husband), and lead your daughter to washing the now roughed up plush, atsumu couldn’t help but feel as if that bear had been plotting against him, making sure to come back with even more malice for their inevitable reunion. (what a poetic mind, atsumu.)

and so, with no you to hold and to feel, and with no daughter to keep close by,

the bed surely felt colder that night.

stupid bear.

———————————————————————————

shameless plug but if u want more atsumu then.. heheh —> loser tsumu ;3

but yeah i don’t think the atsumu hyperfixation is ever gonna end

[puck-luck]

hallmates | quinn hughes

warnings: voyeuristic themes (thin walls), masturbation (fem), dirty talk, wet dreams, drunkenness, quinn pining but barely, garland mentioned before i found out he followed trump and tucker carlson on instagram..., PROTECTED p in v (for once), the smut in this is not as strong as previous pieces of mine, use of Y/N. pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: when fem!reader moves in next to qh, there are two instances where she forgets just how thin the walls are. the second time, quinn is sure to remind her. wc: 5746

Your first grown-up job out of college has been great. You like your coworkers, you’re not bored with your daily tasks, and they gave you a very generous relocation package for your move to Vancouver. You were lucky enough to find a nice apartment with the money, and you paid the first three months’ rent easily. It’s your first one-bedroom apartment, finally living on your own for the first time in your life, and almost everything is perfect.

Almost everything.

Your one gripe is that you can hear your neighbor through the wall when he gets home from his job at weird hours, or when he has friends over during weeknights when you’re trying to prepare for work the following day, or even when he hosts holiday parties for what sounds like fifty-plus people.

It happens often enough that you’re annoyed when his presence makes itself known, but you’re not the kind of person to go over and tell him to knock it off. Plus, you decided that you’d give him a pass because it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose.

Well, that, and he’s cute.

The first time you met was on move-in day. You were lugging your suitcases up the stairs leading to the apartment and he offered to help you carry them in. He took them both– one in each hand– and lifted them like they were nothing. He brought them all the way to the lobby, then smiled softly at you instead of saying “You’re welcome” when you thanked him. You had to talk to the security guard to get your key before ascending up to your floor in the elevator, and in that time, the cute boy had disappeared. You hadn’t caught his name, but you had texted your best friends and informed them that there was at least one hottie in your building.

You learned his name the second time he helped you carry something up the stairs. You had gone grocery shopping at the market down the street and had conveniently forgotten your reusable bags. Before you realized your mistake, you had gone a little crazy with the fruits and vegetables. You’d had to pack all of your goodies into two bursting paper bags that one of the vendors had on hand, and they were filled to the brim. You made it all the way to the bottom of the steps to your apartment when the handles of the bags tore off and all of your hard work was suddenly for naught.

The bags went crashing to the pavement, dirty and littered with the fallen leaves that hadn’t been corralled when they first made their way to the ground, and the prized red onion that you were going to chop up tonight as part of your dinner rolled about a foot away. 

All in all, you should’ve been glad it was the onion. You always peel the skin off of an onion before you cook it, and you always wash it thoroughly before cutting it up, but you reacted like it was the end of the world. Your prized onion was tarnished by the ground, which was silly, because they come from the ground in the first place. 

The onion rolled all the way to your neighbor’s feet. He was arriving home with a friend, a short brunet with floppy hair and a mustache. “You okay?” Your neighbor asked. He picked up the onion and cradled it in his palm.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just not sure how I’m going to carry all of this upstairs without the handles.”

“We’ll help out. You live next to Huggy, right?” The friend said, bending down to lift one of the bags. He cradles it in his arms and your neighbor does the same.

“Huggy?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

Your neighbor, in the meanwhile, had blushed beet-red and stooped down to pick up the other bag of groceries. “That’s me. It’s a nickname.”

“Huggy Bear,” his friend cooed, bumping his arm and knocking your neighbor off balance. 

“It’s Quinn. My name. You can call me Quinn,” your neighbor said, diverting your attention from the silly nickname.

“How do you know which apartment I live in, Quinn?” You questioned. You walked alongside the men as they took your groceries up the stairs, into the elevator, and into your apartment.

Quinn had cut his friend off by replying first. “Moving in makes a lot of noise. I live next door and we share a wall. You weren’t really quiet when you built your bed. I’m glad you have somewhere to sleep, but I could live without the expletives.” He reveals the information with a smile, the same slight curve of his lips that you’re starting to really admire.

That was that. They dropped the groceries off on your kitchen counter and you thanked them for the help, then sent them on their way.

The third time you saw Quinn– well, it started this whole mess. He’s been nice to you twice, so you thought you would repay him with the best thing you could think of: brownies. You’d just gotten the recipe from your aunt to make them from scratch and, hey, he’s a guy, right? Guys like baked goods. 

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Not that you’re trying to get to Quinn’s heart. You wouldn’t mind it, but you’re not… trying.

Thirty minutes later, you’re knocking on Quinn’s door with a plate of brownies. Half of your goods are on the platter, ready for Quinn to dig into. The rest are on your counter, their yummy scent rising in waves from them like in a cartoon and waiting for you to return. 

You only know that he’s home because you can hear him through the wall. After he told you that the walls were thin, you’d been noticing the same thing. It wasn’t just when he gets home or when he has people over. You can hear him moving around and cooking throughout the day. You can hear his sports channels through the wall– yes, that’s right, channels. Multiple. You’re not sure, but he might have two or even three TVs. 

Long story short, Quinn’s home. It takes him a few minutes to come to the door when you knock. “Who is it?” He asks, voice muffled through the door.

“Your friendly next door neighbor,” you reply. “With a plate of fresh brownies.”

The lock slides open and Quinn appears from behind the door. You hold the plate out to Quinn and he takes it from you with one hand. The other rests above his head on the doorframe. He leans over you, smiling softly. 

Suddenly, you don’t know what to say. You don’t know where you were going with this. Your eyes are drawn to his neck, which looks muscular and, well, biteable.

“Enjoy the brownies,” you squeak out, then you turn on your heel and bolt away.

Like any normal woman who is shocked by her sudden visceral attraction to her admittedly-hot next door neighbor, you call your best friend. She talks you through it for a little while, then starts to stray into enemy territory: “Go out, Y/N. Get your mind off of it. Have a drink, get a little tipsy, then go over to his place and tell him how hot you think he is. You’ve never heard a girl’s voice, right? I feel like you would’ve, if he has a girlfriend. The worst he can say is that he’s not interested.”

When you try to weasel out of it, speaking in low tones so that Quinn doesn't hear you through the wall, she reminds you that your resolution for this “new stage of your life” was to stop being so anxious about what someone could say to you. You had declared that you wouldn’t let your own anxiety affect your ability to be vulnerable, especially not with the people that you find attractive. 

Damn your best friend. How dare she look out for you. She even promises to call you in four hours to check in on your drunkenness.

You make plans with the girl in your office that you’ve been taking lunch with. She’s also new– not compared to you, but within the past year. She remembers what it was like to be brand new to Vancouver, so she’s eager to go out with you and offer up her friendship. She takes you to two bars in the downtown area: when the first one gets too full with what she calls “the sport crowd,” you move to the next.

Your coworker’s favorite liquor is tequila. After three shots, which make you cringe despite filling your stomach with warmth, she pulls your troubles out of you. You tell her all about your “sexy” roommate– that’s right, Quinn has been upgraded from “hot” to “sexy” as a result of the alcohol– and she encourages you to try and bag him, just like your best friend did. She agrees that there’s no reason not to and that you should be fine because you’ve been bolstered by the tequila.

She tells you about the person she’s currently seeing and how confusing it is, rambling on and on. When the time comes, and you’re still out, your best friend does call. You talk to her for a second, then she meets your coworker through speakerphone, and they bond over the fact that they both think you should hook up with Quinn.

You party into the night, getting more and more loopy. Your confidence skyrockets by the end of the evening and your drinks are tasting like water. You’re probably too far gone to actually talk to Quinn tonight, but who cares? You feel good. You needed a night out like this.

By the time you’re getting in the Uber, there’s a goofy smile that hasn’t left your face since maybe your fifth drink. You’re able to stumble up the stairs to the lobby and gleefully greet the nighttime security guard at his desk, then you ride the elevator up to your floor. You look up and see yourself in the mirrors on the ceiling of the elevator, which is a treat for Drunk-You. It’s almost a shame when the elevator dings, having finally reached your floor, and you have to leave.

You walk down the hall and consider going up to Quinn’s door, but your phone vibrates in your pocket and you dig it out. It’s the newly minted group chat between you, your coworker, and your bestie. It distracts you, and the clock in the top left corner informs you that you’ve gotten home at a crisp 1:30am, so you decide to go to bed. 

You go to bed, alright. You get ready, you get comfy, and then you remember Quinn’s neck. 

The skin looked so soft. The hair from his beard had started to creep down towards his adam’s apple, but it was neatly maintained. You can imagine how scratchy it would be in your palms, or against your cheek when he graces you with a little kiss, or against your neck while he sucks hickeys onto your skin… or against the sensitive expanse of your own thighs.

You know just how sensitive and delicate the skin is on your thighs because it’s where your fingers are dancing. 

As you drift off, mind still foggy from your drinks, your touch starts to feel much more like you imagine Quinn’s would. His big fingers, on that manly hand, would touch you so carefully. He’d be so determined to play you like a fiddle.

As you imagine your very sexy next door neighbor touching you, you’re making a lot more noise than you realize. It starts with a whimper here and there, then crescendos into actual moans and desperate keens. You’ve shoved your face into the pillow below you, but it does very little to muffle your moans– considering you’re a big fan of breathing, your face is more turned to the side so that you don’t actually suffocate yourself while in the middle of getting off. Your middle two fingers are shoved into your cunt, your index finger erratically sliding against your clit. 

“I know, baby, you feel so good. You want it so bad, don’t you?” Quinn’s imaginary and gently deprecating words wash over your brain like an intrusive thought. 

You bite your lip and turn into the pillow, pleading with him belligerently into the cushion. You’re fighting for your life in this little fantasy, feeling so overwhelmed, and the man you’re imagining isn’t even here. But, in your mind, he’s the one with his fingers inside of you, making you gasp out his name once when his finger passes over your clit just right. In your mind, he doubles down and turns you into a mess. The drinks clogging your mind are able to make it feel more real.

You’re so caught up in your own pleasure that you forget just how thin the walls are. You miss the sound of your neighbor tossing and turning in his bed, even standing at one point and pacing around his bedroom.

It’s only after you come that you hear his bedframe creak with the weight of his body and the faint music that he seems to be playing– maybe just as white noise to fall asleep. You write it off and succumb to the clawing hands of your own slumber. 

You see Quinn again the next day. You’re heading to work with a heavy hangover weighing on you– why did you listen to your best friend when she told you to go out on a Sunday? Why did you listen to your coworker when she brought out the second and third round of shots?– and Quinn seems to be heading to his own job. You still don’t know what that is.

You meet him in front of the elevator, waiting for its doors to open and let you in. You’re honestly not sure if the movement will make you feel more sick, or even push you over the edge and make you dizzy and on the verge of throwing up, like getting out of bed did when you woke up later than you meant to and you had to rush to get ready. Everything is too bright.

Quinn yawns three times in two minutes. You’re the only two in the elevator and the silence is growing more uncomfortable than the ache in your head, since you consider Quinn to be your… friend now? General acquaintance, distant crush, or next-door neighbor might be a better categorization. 

“Long night?” You ask. 

His cheeks turn pink, bizarrely, and Quinn seems determined to face straight forward. His eyes look a little more deer-in-headlights today, rather than the calm and serene blankness that you’re used to. Not that you’re used to looking into Quinn’s eyes. “Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling for him. You’ve been the victim of a restless night many times over, so you know how dreadful it is the following day. “Do you know why?”

Quinn swallows harshly. “Um, I have an idea.”

It’s a weird answer, only because he doesn’t elaborate any further. You keep waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. That is, until the elevator arrives in the parking garage under the complex, when Quinn starts to head one way towards his car and you start to go the other way to your own. To make things even more confusing, Quinn says in a very stilted voice, “Thanks for the brownies.”

Then, like you did when you dropped the brownies off the previous day, he bolts. 

At first, you’re confused, but you let it go. Maybe he was late for work. At least he took the time out of his day to thank you for the brownies, right?

You consider gifting him some of your sleepy-time tea, since he was having trouble sleeping and it’s clearly affecting him. Then you think to yourself that if you kept bringing Quinn treats, you would seem like a cat dropping a mouse at their owners’ feet… so you decide not to.

You feel vindicated with your choice in the coming days. Each time Quinn sees you, his eyes go wide and he scampers away as quickly as he can. It proves itself to be very confusing because he was so nice before. 

After a tough week at work, and another near-miss with Quinn, you’re just… tired. It’s been a weird few days. What you really want is to snuggle up in your bed, throw on some ambient music, drink a glass of wine, light a candle, and fall asleep early– after blowing out your candle, of course. You’d be damned if you were the reason the entire apartment burned down in the middle of the night.

You’re lucky enough that your plans for the night work out. You get to settle in with a book– a spicy romance novel that your coworker recommended to “take the edge off if you won’t knock on Quinn’s damn door.” She seems to think that the reason you’re having a bad week is because you haven’t hooked up with Quinn yet. You don’t think there’s any correlation.

There does seem to be a correlation between the spicy book, the mention of Quinn, and what happens later. You fell asleep with your book open against your chest, having been lulled to sleep by the comfort of your own home. 

It starts simple. Quinn’s lips are sliding against yours, his hand resting securely on your waist. You’re laying in bed and you’ve got a thigh over his hip, grinding into his generous length. Before you know it, and in dream-land it seems like a flash, Quinn’s length is inside of you. He’s got a thumb on your clit while the other plays with your hair, sweet kisses gracing your lips. Quinn’s content teasing you, thrusting as shallowly as he wants and leaving you whining for more. 

“Quinn,” dream-you insists between kisses. 

“Not enough for you, sweetheart?” dream-Quinn chides playfully, his voice riddled with fondness. “You weren’t even supposed to take my cock tonight. But no, you just had to be full. You couldn’t be content with warming me either, huh? You need me to fuck you whenever you want. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Quinn, I need you,” you confirm, whining a little bit and pursing your lips so he finds them again.

“Music to my ears,” Quinn tells you with a smile. “Let me make you come, yeah?”

“Quinn,” you moan again, his touch reducing you to a mess that can only say one word: his name.

You wake to a loud knock on your apartment door. “Y/N!” The person calls, and it sounds like a man, which alarms you in your freshly awoken state.

You roll out of bed and tug on your bathrobe, which you had thrown in the dryer during your first stint in bed, the one that had sent you into sleep. And– and– had sparked that weird dream that has you wet in your panties and wishing Quinn had been there when you woke up.

You tie the belt of the robe around your waist and look through the peephole– it is Quinn. Your wish came true, in a bizarre way. He’s here and he looks concerned. He’s lifting his hand to knock again, but you open the door.

“Quinn, what’s–”

“Are you okay?” He asks. He’s wearing sweatpants and an undershirt, as well as his tennis shoes. He probably just slipped those on to come over here. “You were saying my name. I heard you through the wall. You said you needed me. Are you hurt? Is something wrong?”

The barrage of questions leaves you rattled. You blink in surprise, trying to process all of his inquiries. “What?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut hard to try and wipe the sleep away. 

“You were saying my name,” Quinn repeats. 

You squint, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was asleep,” you say, aware of how confused you sound.

“You were asleep,” Quinn repeats. He blinks twice, then repeats himself, sounding more sure. “You were asleep.”

“I was asleep,” you agree.

Quinn goes to leave, then faces you again and tilts his head to the side. “What were you dreaming about?” He asks. 

You feel your face flood with embarrassment. You’ve never been good at controlling your expression. “It was nothing.”

“Was I there?” Quinn checks. “Is that why you were saying my name?”

“You were there,” you confirm, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him and he leaves. 

Quinn smiles. He looks extra handsome when he smiles. He was smiling at you in your dream. He was doing a lot of good things in your dream. If only you could fall asleep and jump right back in– you were so close and his cock was filling you so well. 

“What was I doing in this dream?” Quinn crosses his arms and takes a step closer to you. 

You move closer to the door, keeping your hand on the doorknob, ready to slam it behind him as soon as he heads back to his apartment. “I don’t remember,” you lie. “You know, most people forget their dream within ten minutes of waking up.”

Quinn nods, still smirking. “You didn’t forget this one, though, did you?” He teases knowingly. 

“Bits and pieces.”

The next thing Quinn says is Earth-shattering. 

“Were you dreaming last time, too?”

You wish you could melt into the floor or camouflage yourself against the wall. You had a theory that Quinn had heard you getting off through the wall the night that you were drunk, although you don’t imagine that he understood your wanton noises. That was why he was running away so much. 

But… he’s not running away this time. He’s here and he’s pressing you for more and more details.

“What do you mean?” You ask, swallowing hard.

“The last time you were saying my name,” Quinn prompts. “Were you asleep then, too?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t think so,” You reply, scrubbing over your arms. It’s a sign of being uncomfortable. Hopefully Quinn picks up on that and goes, sparing you any further humiliation. You’ll never talk to him again. He’s heard you make sex noises twice, and now you know that he knows. It’s embarrassing.

Quinn takes another step forward. He’s right in the doorway now, inches away from stepping across the threshold and entering your apartment. “If you have another dream,” he says, pushing his long sleeves up to his elbows and revealing his arms. He dips his head, lowering his voice to a timbre that has you growing damp again. “You know where to find me.”

Like a final stamp of approval on an official document, Quinn touches the knot at the front of your robe. It’s a brief, fleeting touch and it’s so close to where his hands were originally planted in your dream.

He turns to leave and gets all of three steps away before you call him back. “Quinn.”

“Mhm?” He asks, knowing smile on his face. 

“How, um… how much did you hear?” You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. 

“The first time?” Quinn asks. “Or this time?”

You don’t really want to know the answer, but you nod anyway. “Uh...both?”

“Well,” Quinn says. “Today, you didn’t seem to get very far.”

No thanks to you, you think bitterly. I would’ve liked to see how that dream ended.

“But the first time, I heard everything,” Quinn informs you with a little shrug. “You… you sound really pretty when you come.”

It’s a sheepish admission and it has your jaw dropping. You fishmouth at him for a second, unable to think of something to say. He can just say shit like that? What? How?

“I guess I was hoping…” Quinn licks his lower lip, then looks you up and down. “That if I interrupted you this time, I’d get to… experience the real thing. Not just listen in through the wall.”

“You want…” you trail off, overwhelmed by the information he’s giving you. Quinn wants to have sex with you? But he’s your neighbor crush– this is a new development in the dynamic that you were not expecting. You’re not usually the kind of girl whose little crushes are reciprocated, at least, not like this.

Quinn raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to complete the sentence. When you don’t, he asks another question. “What was I doing in your dream, Y/N?”

“We, um, we were in bed,” you stammer out, feeling unsure. He wants to know– he’s made that very clear. Still, you’re somewhat reluctant. It might be coming off as coyness by accident.

“Can I come in?” Quinn asks. “I need to get the full picture. I don’t know what your bed looks like.”

You stand aside and allow him in. You close, and, out of habit, lock the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom. You try to see it through his eyes for the first time, although you’ve been living here for a while, so it’s hard. It’s just your bedroom.

“So this is where we were,” Quinn says. “Then what?”

“We were laying down,” you explain.

Quinn starts to take off his shoes, then his socks, then he climbs into your bed. “Like this?”

You feel lightheaded. What is he doing? This is so bizarre.

“Kind of?” You reply. You join him. “It was more like– this?” You pull at his arm until he lays on his side, facing you. You face him, bringing his elbow up so it rests on the pillow. 

He asked, you remind yourself. He wants to know. He asked. It’s weird, but you’re just showing him. 

You resolutely avoid his eyes, which have been trained on your face this whole time. Your cheeks are probably going to remain stained pink from the constant blush on your skin. You lay your head on the curve of his arm, then touch his cheek. Just his cheek. You’re still avoiding his eyes. It’s getting harder. “And then, um, my leg was over your hip, too.”

“Like this?” Quinn asks, bringing his warm palm to the curve of your knee and guiding your leg into place. He leaves his hand there.

“Like that,” you confirm faintly. 

All of your neurons are firing like crazy, making you question if this, too, is a dream. Has your subconscious gotten so meta that you can’t decipher what’s real and what’s fake?

“What else did we do?” Quinn’s voice has dropped to a whisper. His hand is still on your thigh.

“Well, your hand was here,” You say, correcting him and bringing his hand to your waist. “And you…”

Quinn gives your waist a little squeeze. “I… what?”

“You were kissing me,” you say, your voice barely a breath. This can’t be real. 

Quinn surprises you. “Good,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do that.” He leans in, letting his lips ghost over yours before he meets you completely. He’s hesitant, waiting for you to relax with him. 

You don’t fully, still confused from waking up and the fact that this happened so quickly and in such a bizarre way. When he pulls away, you voice your confusion. “Are you real?” You question under your breath.

Quinn chuckles, leaning in to kiss you again. “I’m real.”

He continues to kiss you. Over and over, until you finally melt into his touch and start to do exactly what you were doing in your dream– grinding against him. 

“Were you doing this in your dream?” Quinn asks. He’s helping guide your movements and you can feel him swelling beneath you. He’s not wearing underwear– you can tell. You want it, bad, and now that you’ve been kissing him, you’re more willing to explain the rest of your dream to him.

“More,” you breathe out. “I needed your cock inside me.”

Quinn makes a noise of surprise, but the way he kisses you after you say that reveals his enthusiasm.

“And you were talking to me,” you reveal as Quinn starts to meet your rolling hips. “You were– you were teasing me for being so needy.”

“What was I saying?” Quinn’s hand twitches against your waist, pulling you closer. He licks into your mouth briefly, then pulls back. “What had you begging for me, sweetheart?”

“Making fun of me,” you exhale. “Saying– I couldn’t get enough of you. That I was greedy and that I couldn’t be satisfied with just warming you–”

“Warming me,” Quinn repeats quietly, interrupting you.

You talk over him. “So you had to fuck me, but you weren’t really fucking me– you were just, inside, barely moving and your thumb was on my clit.”

“As if I could hold myself back like that,” Quinn scoffs. You grab the sides of his shirt and tug petulantly, bringing him in for another kiss. You’re addicted. 

“Show me,” you invite. “Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me what you’d do differently. Please. You came all the way over here– I want to make it worth your time.”

Quinn groans into your mouth, bringing his hand from your waist to the tie of your robe. “Really?”

“Don’t make me ask again,” you say. “I was so close in my dream.”

Quinn reacts to that in the same way. “Fuck, let me get my fingers in you first–”

“No.”

“No?” Quinn repeats, pulling away from you. 

“Not no,” you correct, bringing your hands to his waistband and snapping the band impatiently. “Just– I want your cock. Just your cock. Please fuck me, Quinn.” You kiss him sweetly one more time. “Please?”

“Undress yourself,” Quinn says. “I want to see all of you.”

“You too,” you reply. “Take your clothes off.”

As you undress, untying the knot of your belt and tossing the robe to the floor of your bedroom, you talk. You take your big t-shirt off, asking, “Condom?”

Quinn digs into the pocket of his sweats, having shed his shirt. He pulls out a foil– just one, sadly– and tosses it to you. 

You catch it, tearing the edge of the packet and taking out the ring of plastic inside of it. You push your panties down with one hand, while Quinn loses his sweats. As soon as his cock is revealed to you, hard and pink at the tip, you jump into action. You’re rolling the condom on quickly, unable to help yourself from pumping his shaft a few times.

“Quit,” Quinn remarks, batting your hand away and laying back down. He’s on his side, pulling your thigh back over his hip and resuming the position from before. He puts his hand under your jaw, then guides his cock to your opening. He pushes in, rolling his hips until every single inch is sheathed inside of you. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.”

“You’re big,” you reply, holding his shoulders and tilting your pelvis forward to encourage him to move. “Filling me so nice, Q.”

“Q,” Quinn echoes, his voice sounding a little strangled. “That’s– that’s nice.”

You wonder if he’s holding back. He always seems to when it comes to talking to you. After a while, maybe he’ll give you something more than his shy words and his hesitant admissions. He’s in your bed now, but he’s still holding back.

He starts to rut against you, finding a rhythm in which his cock slides in and out of your heat. The movement is smooth because you’re so wet from dreaming about him, then kissing him, and now having him inside. Even though there’s the barrier of protection between you, he’s warm and you can feel the way his skin stretches over his veins and his tip. That, combined with the scrape of his member against your fleshy walls, creates something so warm inside of you that you can’t help but ask for more.

Quinn gives you everything you ask for like he can’t imagine doing anything else. Soon enough, he’s holding himself up slightly by his elbow so he has some leverage to fuck into you harder and faster. 

You’re moaning, pulling him closer and threading your fingers through his hair. “Quinn,” you’re saying, repeating the word that inspired him to come over in the first place. 

He’s saying your name, too. He’s whispering it into your ear and into your mouth as he presses kisses wherever he can reach. He thrusts, he says your name, he kisses. He thrusts again, he says your name again, and he kisses you again. It’s an endless cycle, a perpetual loop. It’s soft and sweet, even though the way he’s fucking you is anything but. His thrusts are sharp and pointed, hitting the right spot inside of you as often as he can. 

The kiss to your neck is your undoing. He’s sucking a bit, biting down just barely, and his tongue works against your pulse point. It’s too much, too full of something deeper. You let go, making the noise he likes so much– the noise that he said was pretty, and he meant it, even as bashful as he looked when he said it. Your moan mixes with his name again.

Quinn spills into the condom shortly after, touching you reverently and letting his hips jerk and twitch through his release. 

You feel innately close to him, like you’re part of him. It’s bizarre how one hookup with your cute neighbor leaves you feeling satisfied and unsettled– ‘unsettled’ because, well, why would you feel so close to a man you’ve slept with once and only had a few genuine conversations with?

Quinn eases your thoughts by letting you know that he feels, at least, a little bit similar to you. 

“Can I take you to dinner?��� He asks. “I’m busy most of the time, but I want to take you out. Let’s make time to have a real date.” Quinn pauses. “Unless you don’t want to– if you just want this, that’s okay. I just– I’d feel stupid if I didn’t ask.”

You touch his mouth, effectively silencing him, even though you hadn’t meant to. You just wanted to feel his lips move while he spoke. “I’ll go to dinner with you,” you agree. “If you sleep here tonight.”

Quinn smiles. “Done.”

[goldsbitch]

You texted...

Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.

angst, one shot

The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.

Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.

Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."

Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.

"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."

"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.

"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"

Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.

"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.

"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.

Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.

"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.

//

Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.

"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.

"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."

"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.

"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.

"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"

"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.

"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.

"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."

"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."

"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."

"Does he know that?"

"No?"

Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."

"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.

"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."

"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"

Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."

"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.

"What did you text?"

"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."

"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."

They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.

//

A doorbell rang.

"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.

"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"

"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"

"Gotcha."

She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?

But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.

"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.

"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"

"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.

"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.

The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.

She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"

"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.

"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."

The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.

"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."

She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.

"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"

It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.

Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.

"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."

He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.

"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."

"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."

She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.

"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.

"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."

He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."

She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.

She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute

➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!

ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?

besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 

you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 

logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.

you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).

still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 

recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.

the conversations usually go a little something like:

“oh, you really don’t need to—”

“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”

it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 

while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 

tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?

the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 

the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 

he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 

“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:

“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”

“... wedding’s been canceled…”

“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.

“she was seeing someone else…”

“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”

“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”

“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”

“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”

“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”

he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.

“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”

“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 

then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 

the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.

there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.

his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.

“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”

after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.

“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”

“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.

“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”

“well, yes, but—”

“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”

“... you do?”

“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”

logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”

“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”

“although?”

“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”

“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”

you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”

“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”

“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”

“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 

you hummed, “of course, you can.”

even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.

you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”

“i thought you would never ask.”

tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[writerpeach]

Anytime, Anywhere

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x m!reader

19k words

Happy Minju Day!

---

Read on AO3

“I’m not looking for a roommate, Minju.”

The conversation should have ended there. But it didn’t.

Your front door is wide open and you can’t seem to close it shut. Like there’s something in the way. This something is a girl standing by the open door, carrying a suitcase, looking as pathetic as could be. Her hair is a mess, and the way she's been crying makes her eyes all swollen, nose still red. The only way she could look any more pitiful would be standing in the rain without an umbrella, but here she is with this disappointment on her face because you’ve given her an answer she wasn’t expecting. 

You’ve known Kim Minju since your first year of college. The first person to talk to you during orientation when you were too nervous to even look at anyone. Now you’ve graduated with a stable job that pays well, and moved into your first apartment, a place you can finally call your own—you’re not about to ruin it all. 

Minju was the first person you shared a meal with at campus, the first person you walked to class with that was just as awkward as you were, and you’d practically do anything for her—except let her live with you. 

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun!” 

Minju has a strange definition of fun. 

“Fun? One more mess to clean up? Having to buy more ice cream because you’ve eaten it all? Running out of hot water to take a shower with? No thanks. I'm not looking for a roommate.”

The girl doesn’t budge from the doorway, like giving up isn’t a part of her vocabulary. “Hey, I can clean up after myself. And I don’t even eat that much, so I won’t steal your ice cream. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

There’s some truth to that. All those years you’ve known Minju, she’s always been the quiet, demure girl who’s always cleaned up after herself and others without asking. You can’t exactly picture her the type to throw loud parties, and she’s probably the biggest homebody that you know. But still—that’s not enough a reason to let her live here on a whim. You enjoy your privacy, your quiet, your hot showers, and most importantly, your time alone.

“Minju, the answer is still no. The last thing I need right now is a roommate.” 

Your answer is firm and resounding, but Minju expects that to change. Like she’s got this laundry list of ideas that will convince you otherwise. 

“But don’t you get lonely? Look, I can clean. And I can cook. Kind of. And I can—“

“No, I enjoy not having anyone around. And I can cook just fine. I have a housekeeper that comes in twice a month. I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Every last word you’re saying puts a big frown on her face. Minju’s great, a terrific friend, but hearing the word no has never been one of her favorite things. 

“But I—“ she starts, and you can tell there’s about to be a double down you can’t prepare for. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” 

There it is. The pouty lips, the desperation, the puppy dog eyes. This triple combo intended to make you feel every pang of guilt, yet you’ve seen it so many times over the course of knowing her that you’ve grown immune to it. And you know it’s not exactly true. Kim Minju was always the popular one. Always the one with a plethora of friends. So it’s not exactly like she’s about to be homeless if you refuse her. 

“You had friends. So many friends, Minju. I never got to have lunch with you because you were always spending time with them. What happened? Surely you can live with one of them?” 

Minju looks away and down to her feet, like you’ve accidentally found some weakness of hers. Obviously, something has happened to have her standing in your doorway right now, looking so defeated, but when you’ve barely spoken the past couple of years outside of birthday messages, there's really no way for you to know.

“I’ve lost contact with most of them. The others, they’ve moved on. They’ve graduated, have lives, careers, families…” Minju says, as she stares off into space, like she’s seeing everything play out again right before her eyes. 

“And you think I don’t? What happened to you, Minju? You were top of the class. The most popular girl. And now you’re begging for a place to live?” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, there’s a long moment of hesitation before she speaks up again. “I made some mistakes."

Minju pauses again before delving into details. “I made so many mistakes. I moved in with my friend. Chaewon, do you remember her? Kim Chaewon? She was my best friend. We dated for six months and then moved in together. Then, my priorities got really screwed up, I guess. I focused more on going to parties with her instead of studying, and then that caught up with me when exams came around. Lost my scholarship, my interest in classes, and then eventually—lost Chaewon.”

It's a lot to take in all at once. 

Minju has never struck you as the type to be so reckless that she would let everything else spiral out of control. Not when she's the most hard-working and smartest person that you've ever met. Then again, you haven’t talked to her in years, and people change. But at the end of the day, that's still not enough reason for you to let her stay here. 

“I'm sorry to hear that, Minju." That's the only thing you can think to say, but even that seems to come across as a bit hollow. 

“The only person that offered to take me in was Sakura, said she could get me a job where she works. But… I can’t move to Japan. I don’t want to take my clothes off on camera for a living. You know she's an adult actress now? I can't do that."

“Minju, I understand, but I like living by myself, and I really don't want someone else. It’s nothing against you. Things here are nice and—“ 

“I’ll pay extra rent! I’ll pay more than my share. I’ll make sure the fridge is always full. I’ll…”

It doesn't seem to sink in that you're not interested, that you don’t want this at all, that you value your privacy above all else. “It’s not about money. I'm sorry, Minju, but no.” 

Minju isn’t listening. 

Or rather refuses to hear it, like she can't accept your rejection. So there's only one thing left for her to try as she falls to her knees—begging like her life depends on it. 

There's plenty of neighbors around, and having her on your doormat draws all this unwarranted attention that you don't need. But at this point, Minju still can't seem to fathom that your answer will never be the one that she wants to hear.

“Minju, stop.“

“Please, just for like a few weeks? So I can figure things out? I won’t be a bother, I promise.” Minju clutches onto your legs. It's embarrassing how desperate she looks right now, and the few people that walk by staring while this plays out aren't helping one bit. 

“Look, I’ll call around. I’m sure I have some friends with empty rooms that aren’t even getting used.” 

That sounds like a good offer, the best one you can give—but not to Kim Minju. She just clutches harder, so desperate that her nails are almost digging into your thighs through the thin layer of fabric of your pants. It's only been seconds since you've suggested the idea, but already, Minju is giving her rebuttal.

“But I don’t know your friends. So you want me to live with strangers? With people I’ve never even met? What if they try something weird?” Minju whines while finding a way to twist your words, and any last remnants of pity you have left vanishes. 

“Minju, I said stop,” you say with more authority, but it just makes her cling on even tighter. The iron grip she won’t relinquish almost causes you to lose your balance as you push away, trying to peel her off you to no avail. 

“Get up, Minju. This is beneath you.” 

She knows it is. Minju has always been so composed, and she knows that even if all other options are exhausted, there are less extreme measures to take. But there she is, clutching at your legs like there's no other alternative. Like this is her last resort.

"Minju, you need to leave." This isn’t your fault, and yet, somehow, it feels like it is.

"I can be a good roommate!"

Minju gives up on begging, finally rising to her feet with this adamant look on her face, like she’s going to give this one more dire attempt. “Please. I can give you something that's even better than rent."

It should end there. You should apologize that you can’t help, close the door on Minju, then grab a cold beer out of your fridge and forget this day happened. 

“Look, you still like women, right?”

What an odd question. You have no idea where this is going, and Minju has gone from begging to, well, whatever this is. Either way, you don’t answer.

“Come on, I’ve never known you to be shy. Surely you have needs, desires—and I can help with that. Just let me stay for a little bit while I get back on my feet. I can repay you in a way no one else can."

“Have you lost your mind, Minju?”

Clearly, the desperation has gotten to her head. Minju may sound as coherent as ever, yet you can’t comprehend these words. Maybe you need more sleep, maybe you’re a bit dehydrated—

“We’ve been friends for years… and you’ve never thought about me that way?“ she asks, sauntering closer towards you with this new sense of confidence in her step. Minju, she’s hot—very hot, this supermodel body with an angelic face you can stare at for hours. But that doesn’t mean you’ve entertained such thoughts. 

“Now, tell me. Wouldn’t it be nice if you had someone who gets you off as soon as you walk through that door? Someone who drops to their knees without any command. It must get pretty stressful, living on your own, without anyone to even talk to…” 

“It doesn’t, Minju. I’m fine. I really don’t need anything.“

“You keep repeating that, saying the same thing. You’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t enjoy getting between my legs right in the morning? Or having a way to destress after all those long hours at work? You would never want any of that?"

“Jesus, Minju, I’m not paying you for sex. This is ridic—” 

"That's not what I'm saying at all. All I need is a roof over my head, and in exchange—you can use my body as you wish. It can be as quick or long as you want. As many times as you desire. Anytime. Any day. Anywhere. No strings attached, that's my offer.” 

What an insane offer this is. 

“Get inside,” you beckon, because if the absurdity of this exchange won’t stop, at the very least you don’t want anyone else to overhear these suggestions. Minju follows inside, her suitcase still on wheels dragging along while she shuts the door behind. 

“Sit down, please.” 

Taking off her jacket, Minju takes a seat on the couch and crosses her legs, making herself comfortable. She sits right against the backrest, both arms sprawled wide across it while you wait for her to fully explain this ridiculous proposal. 

“Well?" Minju asks, a big cheeky grin, convinced she’s already won. “Sounds like you’re interested. If you weren’t, you would have kept insisting on me leaving, wouldn’t you?” 

Like you could ever get Minju to leave. 

Without much of a reaction, you sink into the armchair to her right. It's hard to find the words to say because she has a point. There were countless ways you could have asked her to leave, but you chose not to. Or maybe you’re just too exhausted by this whole thing.

“So—“ you pause, because you’re sure if you can call her bluff, this little game can end. “You’re serious?” 

Minju curls her lips. An eyebrow raises. She leans forward and folds her hands in her lap. This devilish little look in her eyes doesn’t have an ounce of doubt. “Absolutely. Just hear me out.”

You let out a sigh at the idea of ever entertaining this. “Explain it all. Don’t leave anything out.” 

Minju can’t help but laugh. “I’ve pretty much told you everything already. For as long as you let me stay here, I’ll be available at your disposal. As simple as that. Whenever you want to fuck me, you don’t even have to ask. I’ll drop everything.” 

“I don’t have to ask?” you repeat back, still in disbelief that Minju is capable of coming up with such an arrangement.

Minju nods. "If we come to an agreement today, then you won’t ever need to ask. You can have me in any and every way that you want. No restrictions."

“None?” 

“None whatsoever. You want a blowjob first thing in the morning? No problem. Need to fuck me at night before I sleep? You just say the word. Whenever you get horny, you can go right ahead and shove your cock in me. No need to hold back, ever."

"And you would be okay with that?”

“I’m the one who suggested it, didn’t I? I need a place to live, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some help getting off. So we help each other out.”

This doesn't feel real, to hear the girl sitting next to you is essentially suggesting her body to be a form of rent, and yet, this has been Minju's solution like it’s nothing. 

“And I meant anytime. If you’re hard at two in the morning and you wanna fuck a load into me, well, go right ahead.” 

“Jesus, Minju,” you say, and if you had a drink in your hands, you would absolutely be spitting it out right now. ”I’m not gonna wake you in the middle of the night to fuck you.” 

“Hey, I’m just saying. Totally okay if you wanted to. It’s all part of the rules.” 

“And are there any other rules?” Saying no to Minju is never simple, and this offer on the table seems almost impossible to resist. 

“Nothing too painful outside of spanking. Nothing too out of the ordinary or illegal. That should cover it. I’ll be looking for a job to help out as soon as I settle in, that is—assuming we’ve come to an agreement?” 

Maybe you should think this over, sleep on it even. But Minju, she looks like a goddess, with a banging body to go with it, and hey, she’s a friend, not a stranger, so there’s no way this could go wrong, right? 

“I promise you won’t regret this. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this place, and then whenever you need it—I’ll take care of you.” 

Minju really can’t help but be pleased at herself at that.

“Okay, sure. Fine.” 

“We have a deal?” 

“Yeah. Deal.” 

That's all it takes for it to happen.

“One more thing. We’re getting a contract made, to make sure this is all clear and consensual,” you say, and Minju has no complaints with that at all. It’s not that you don’t trust her, but putting it on paper seems only wise given the situation. 

“Understandable. Whatever you need.”

Pleased that this is all settled, Minju stands up from the couch with relief on her face. Then, with a radiating smile, she makes her way towards you, leaning down until she presses her lips against yours, sealing the deal with a kiss. 

“Thank you. You won’t really regret this at all.” 

✦ ✦

The rest of the night is relatively uneventful. 

It’ll take some time to adjust to having someone else in your place. At first, there’s not much conversation between you two other than an exchange of pleasantries while you help Minju get situated. She doesn’t have much in terms of belongings. A couple of boxes, an extra suitcase, a laptop bag and her purse—nothing that can fill a bedroom, which makes sense given the story she’s told you. 

You lend a hand in bringing it all in, and Minju gets her phone charger set up before running herself a long, hot shower that leaves plenty of time for you to think. This ridiculous arrangement starts to feel less surreal when you look around and find your apartment looking less empty. Yet, you’re not exactly sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

After giving Minju a quick tour of the place, she winds up sleeping on the couch, since your spare bedroom has served as storage for months. 

Aside from the agreement, nothing really changes overnight.

The next morning, there’s fresh coffee already made when you head into the kitchen. Minju has taken advantage of your breakfast offerings, pouring milk into a full cereal bowl when she notices your presence. Seated at the kitchen table, there’s this innocent expression on her face as she eats, wearing a white tank top and a tiny pair of black gym shorts that do little to cover those never-ending legs. 

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Minju asks as you sit down across from her, pouring yourself a cup of coffee before adding sugar and a splash of milk from the nearby carton.

“Well enough. Sorry about the couch. I’ll try to empty out the spare bedroom today.” 

Taking a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Minju smiles and shakes her head, like your apology is unwarranted. “It's totally fine, don’t worry. I could have slept on the floor if I needed to. I’m just happy to be here at all.”

Minju’s gratitude is every bit genuine, and it looks like she got the best night of sleep that she's had in years. Which is hard to believe, given you’ve spent your share of nights sleeping on that same couch and it's nowhere near comfortable. Then again, you weren’t in the same position Minju was. 

“No breakfast?” 

“Not yet. I’ll cook something in a bit. Need to get some coffee in me first.” 

“Oh, I can do it. Anything I can make you? I don’t mind,” Minju suggests, starting to rise to her feet. 

“No, it’s fine, don’t get up. I like making breakfast.” You sip your coffee, and Minju settles back down to start eating again. Because even if you have someone else sitting across from you now, let alone Minju, you can’t break from routine. 

There’s a bit of awkward silence that happens while the two of you eat, as you’re unsure what to really say. But it’s day one of having a roommate, and you don’t regret it. Not yet. 

"So, are you off to work?" Minju asks, as she gets up from the chair and puts her empty bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.

You nod in response as you tilt your head to finish off the last of your coffee. "Yeah. Well, I work uh, here, actually.” 

“Here? Oh, like from home? That must be nice," Minju replies as she sits back down, like she’s waiting for something else to keep herself busy with.

"It's not the most ideal setup, but it's better than having a commute."

"I can imagine. Well, don't let me keep you then. If you need—you know, anything, let me know.” 

That sentence lingers in your mind while you head to your home office. And the workday starts the same way as it always does: meetings, phone calls, answering emails, the same tedium over and over. The only difference is the addition of Minju when you get up to grab a snack, some water, or more coffee—she’s there to greet you with a smile every time. 

The morning drags on, and you end up working through lunch to get caught up, which ends up being a mistake for many reasons. Now you’re this bad combo of stress and hunger, a recipe for disaster, but one of those problems is easier to solve than the other. So you grab a granola bar out of your desk drawer to tide you over, and as the wrapper lands in the trash can, you realize you can fix the other problem rather quickly as well. 

With Minju. 

It’s the whole reason why you’ve agreed to let her be here in the first place. So might as well test it out, right? And yet, you’re not even sure how to go about it. Summon her and say what, you're stressed, start stripping, and get on your knees? That sounds ridiculous to do, to even think about, especially when Minju hasn't been here for more than 24 hours yet.

Maybe the hunger is getting to you, and you should make a quick sandwich before getting back to work. Or maybe—just maybe, you should ask Minju for what she's offered.

"Minju?" you call out as you lean back in your chair, trying not to sound nervous at all. Within moments, a pair of bare feet enter into the room, arriving like she’s been on standby the entire time. 

You survey Minju from head to toe, this gorgeous thing idly standing before you, as if she’s waiting for orders. It takes you a moment to realize you’re just shamelessly staring at her, but who could blame you? The girl is the epitome of perfection: pale skin, these wide, curvy hips that lead to ridiculously long legs down to her painted toes, and tantalizingly creamy thighs that leave you salivating. 

Her tank top hangs just above her belly button, with the outline of her modest tits completely exposed through the flimsy fabric, the barest hints of nipples brazenly displayed, and there isn’t a hint of anything beneath her shorts besides bare flesh. You’re not sure this isn’t entirely intentional, designed to either tease or lure you into testing the waters, but maybe this is just Minju getting comfortable. 

Regardless, it’s working like a charm to ignite a fire inside you. 

"What can I help with?" Minju asks as her hands meet behind her back, nipples poking through the fabric of her tank top even more visible the closer she gets. She looks completely ready for whatever you’re prepared to throw at her, but you’re not even sure where to begin. 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not at all, just unpacking some boxes. But that can always wait.” 

"Good,” you start out as your eyes drift down Minju’s immaculate body, and can’t help but wonder what she looks like underneath those clothes. “I need—“ 

You take in a sharp breath, not used to something like this—or the fact that Minju might be willing to go along with whatever you imagine. 

“Need what?” She smiles knowingly, understanding whatever it is you need, she’ll happily oblige. You pause for way too long, your mouth suddenly feeling dry at the thought of voicing the idea in your head. “Don’t be shy…” 

Easy for her to say. 

“You need me to get you off?” Minju asks in this sultry voice when you don’t say anything in response, and it sounds so natural when she does, like there’s no reservation of putting herself out there like this. Eventually, you let out this pathetic little nod that doesn’t quite pass as a response, but still gets Minju to slowly drop down to her knees. And the realization of what’s about to happen gets your heart racing. 

“So…” Minju murmurs, as she scoots her body in between your legs. Her palm flattens against your thigh in these slow caresses that send a wave of warmth as it slides to your crotch. “You want my mouth? I bet you taste really good.” 

It's far more direct and open than you were prepared for, and has you trying to find an ounce of confidence. “God, yes.” 

There’s way too much desperation in your voice already, but it’s all Minju needs to get to work. Unzipping your pants, she tugs them down as you lift your hips. Already, your cock aches, getting hard, having no chance of hiding under the thin fabric of your boxers. 

When Minju frees you from your boxers, her hot breath against your bare cock makes you twitch. Her delicate hand closes around your erection, and she pumps with these slow, languid strokes, a motion that gets you to full hardness. In a matter of seconds, your shaft pulsates in her hands, leaking a steady stream of precum to coat her fingers. 

“You’re so fucking hard. This beautiful cock is what I get to play with for the next few weeks?”

Leaning your head back, you groan in response. You stare up at the ceiling while Minju strokes your hard shaft, these painful throbs getting instant relief when she moves in short, but powerful motions that draw a few breaths of bliss. It’s unfathomable, how the smallest touch she offers feels so damn good, this firm grasp she keeps coiling up and down your length at a leisurely pace to make you leak more. 

This is certainly a much better use of your time than staring at screens for hours. 

“You must be so pent up. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Minju asks, dragging a lone finger down from the base of your cock upwards to the head, across your slit, teasing her tongue over to taste precum smearing around, offering the briefest sample of what’s coming. 

“But I know you need more…” As she inches even closer, Minju spits right on top and you gasp at the sensation of saliva on your overheated cock. With each stroke, she spreads the fluid along your pulsing shaft, allowing it to drip down and coat your entire length. Her other hand fondles your balls, tugging on them playfully and doesn’t ignore how heavy they feel, as if it’s her new obligation to do something about that. 

“You needed this, didn’t you?” 

Another weak nod in return, because at this point words fail you. You want nothing more than Minju to guide her hot mouth down, swallowing you all until there’s nothing left. And you won’t have to wait long for that. 

Because even without Minju getting her mouth on your sensitive cock, you’re overwhelmed already. It’s clear she’s no stranger to this, the way her fingers tease and squeeze tightly around your dick, working in tandem with that pretty wet mouth that slides across your balls. Sticky drool spills down her tongue as she takes these sweeping licks against each back and forth, giving them individual care and attention in a way that’s granting pleasure you desperately seek. 

“Delicious,” Minju hums, and doesn’t pause for anything, smirking as her tongue drags up, taking swipes and frantic flicks against the underside of your shaft. 

This teasing, it’s insufferable. 

The soft groans that she coaxes out persist, until eventually her lips hover around your swollen head, and Minju plants a series of wet kisses to coat your dick in that gets you throbbing like crazy. Your patience gets tested as she gathers her messy dark hair into a ponytail in this slow, deliberate way. But you know exactly what’s about to take place. 

Her gaze gets locked tight as her warm tongue swirls around your leaking slit—then she lowers her mouth gradually, and takes just the head into her hot, wet mouth. It’s everything you need. Those perfect lips seal tight, and immediately she bobs her head at a smooth and consistent pace. Not too slow or too fast. 

Minju’s lips work their magic as she works a fist around your throbbing shaft, a grip just right that squeezes right beneath the head that keeps disappearing into her mouth. The tension in your body, it all melts as you sit back and enjoy the warmth of her wet mouth. She’s every bit eager to give everything you desire, this deadly eye contact that never yields, with hollowed cheeks as those soft lips slide down your throbbing cock. 

"Fuck, that’s amazing," you groan out, struggling to catch a steady breath. The way Minju handles your cock is nothing short of masterful, those heavenly soft lips wrapped tight around your shaft, and that equally talented wet tongue that flicks back and forth, tracing along every vein, every sensitive spot. 

It's a little slice of heaven.

Words can’t describe how good Minju’s warm little mouth feels on you. It doesn’t take much for her to get your cock absolutely drenched with a thick layer of saliva, this insatiable hunger to take more, increasing with every stroke her lips make. 

"Just like that, god..." Your voice trails off in a moan as your head hits the back of your chair. “That’s perfect, fuck, Minju—you’re so damn good at this.” 

The words hit her just right. Minju loves the praise, and in return, gives more pleasure, the immaculate pleasure that gets sloppier as she quickens the pace. Her gentle suction increases with every pass of her lips, with every desperate lick and slurp. She doesn’t leave any part out, massaging your balls with her free hand as that delicious mouth swallows up more and more of your length with each and every bob. 

“You really needed this, huh? Needed me to make you feel good?” Minju shows no intention of stopping, your shaft glistening from how much of a sloppy mess she's making. Her soft lips have an intimate way of knowing exactly what you need, this tight airtight seal around your cock every time they slide down, while the gentle tug at your balls gives you a perfect mix of pleasure. 

“It feels so fucking good—ah, fuck, Minju," you say, while your moans fuel this sloppy, absolutely mind-blowing blowjob that you never want to end. If this is going to be a common occurrence, then maybe having Minju around won’t be so bad. And you could get used to the sight of your roommate on her knees. 

This craving for more takes hold, but Minju fulfills it as she goes so deep. Her eyes water the further she gets, but this persistence never waivers, almost reaching the very base as she breathes deeply through her nose to take every last inch to the base. Minju swallows you whole in one motion, and shows no signs of backing down, even as she struggles to hold back her gag reflex.

“Minju—fuck,” you say in between sharp breaths as you stay inside this tight throat while the warmth surrounds you, makes you throb more than ever, building up your release. 

It’s impossible not to stare, impossible not to watch your length disappear again and again between those pretty pink lips as her perfect rhythm continues, this desire that only has one exit. 

“Mm, I can feel you're close," Minju says as she slides your shaft out of her mouth with a wet pop, jerking you off at an agonizingly slow pace. "Tell me where you want to cum. My mouth, my face—or somewhere else?” 

You need a moment to gather your voice before you can even think. 

“Your mouth. Wanna cum in your pretty fucking mouth.” 

Minju quite likes that answer. You aren’t given a moment of respite as she keeps up this same relentless pace, slurping on your length with endless amounts of fervor, with a new goal to suck you absolutely dry. She gets you right on the edge of release, eyes begging, pleading to taste it all, waiting for you to spill down her throat at any moment. 

The desperate look she gives while playing with your balls is more than enough to bring you right over the edge. With a low grunt, you empty into her warm, waiting mouth, thick spurts of hot cum coating the back of Minju's throat like this was just what she was hoping for. The more she drains your balls, the harder you moan, cock twitching with every burst of pleasure, and not a single inch of you isn’t unloading into that talented little mouth. 

Minju happily takes everything, her tongue not letting a single drop spill past those heavenly lips. There's no sign of disappointment on her face as she gulps down your load, with a smile that shows no remorse for taking you over the edge so easily.

"What a huge, delicious load," she murmurs after swallowing it all, running her tongue all over her lips. Minju makes sure to clean every inch of your length, from base to tip, licking and kissing every drop of cum until she's satisfied with her work. 

“Feel better?” 

"Yeah..." you breathe out, struggling to gather yourself, let alone find the right words after the intense high that Minju looks so proud of giving. “Much. Fuck, Minju—you’re amazing. Thanks.” 

“Anytime," she says with a soft laugh, as her hand still clings onto your cock, a few light squeezes and strokes that keep it hard. "Just let me know when you need more, okay? I'll be around."

“I—I should probably get back to work,” you say, sounding almost apologetic. With the euphoric bliss still lingering through your body, you’re not sure how you’ll get any work done, but that’s a worry for another time. 

“Yeah, of course. I still have some unpacking to do.” As Minju rises from her knees, she plants one last soft kiss against your swollen head before getting up to leave you with your thoughts, a moment alone to recuperate. You can't stop yourself from watching as she walks away, drooling over those luscious thighs and that minuscule pair of shorts that her ass practically swallows up. 

Work is the last thing on your mind, but you’ll power through with the help of this appetizer you’ve been given. This little sample is just one dish in a full buffet for what Minju can offer, and there’s no doubt that you’re going back for seconds. 

✦ ✦

It's late in the night by the time Minju stops unpacking. You’ve cleared out the guest bedroom, and she’s settled in enough to make it look like her own space. After working later than usual, you’re slumped on the couch, mindlessly zoning out while the TV drones in the background.

“Hey,“ Minju says as she makes her way in, still dressed in the same attire, this tight tank top that looks even more disheveled, exposing more midriff, and the same gym shorts that you swear look even shorter than earlier. Plopping down beside you, her curves instantly draw your gaze, like this outfit was designed to steal your attention. 

The littlest movement makes her flimsy top ride up, and you have no choice but to stare as Minju adjusts herself, lifting her arms overhead to stretch her arms, which gives a teasing glimpse of those perky tits that seem like they’re just destined to pop out. “Finished with work?” 

Now that there’s a light sheen of sweat worked up from unpacking boxes and organizing her room, her milky white skin looks so good. Minju looks nothing but utterly enticing, which has you dying to get to know that body better.

“All caught up. For now.” 

There hasn't been a moment all day when your full attention hasn’t been elsewhere, when you haven’t been thinking about Minju. She takes another stretch, and you’re sure this is deliberate when it draws a little moan that doesn’t normally come from this sort of relief. This time, your eyes are immediately drawn to her toned stomach, and you can just picture tasting it, covering it in little licks and pecks, this devilish temptation there’s no hope to resist. 

“Well, I should really shower,” Minju says as she starts getting up, but not before giving her stomach a slow caress, like she knows you can't keep your eyes off her. 

“Shower?” There’s obvious intention in the way you repeat it, like you have other plans in mind for her. 

“I’m all sweaty. I’ll be quick. I don’t wanna use up all your hot water.” 

Now, there's only so long you can hold back from testing out the waters, and it only takes a moment to throw aside your own inhibitions. You find sudden courage to give into your urges, and the look on Minju's face can’t hide the surprise from your sudden forwardness. “The shower can wait.“

If Minju’s going to take her clothes off anyway, you might as well give her a head start. 

“Your clothes, Minju." You're still hesitating, even if it's been on your mind all day, even after what she did earlier. "They’ll look better once they’re all off.”

“Then shouldn’t you do something about that, then?” 

There’s a borderline annoyance in her tone, like it’s way too easy if she does it, and wants you to take charge to do it instead. So you’ll indulge that, trailing your hands up her sweaty stomach to take in these perfect abs that flex at your touch.

The sweat that drips on her body, her delicious abs that glisten under your fingertips as you slide up to grab her tits, it heightens your arousal even more. She still isn't wearing a bra, so you give her these light little squeezes through her skimpy top, that makes her back arch, but this annoying barrier of fabric has to go. 

So the moment your hands pull up Minju's top, she lifts her arms to let you slip it off and throw it aside, her tits finally revealed as they spring free. And fuck, are they even better than what you had imagined—soft, round, the perfect size for her body, topped with rosy little nipples that just beg to be touched.

“I can promise you the rest of my body is just as good,” Minju assures as she catches you staring for far too long. No doubt you believe her, because this confidence isn’t just for show, but still, you’ll have to investigate on your own. 

Not the least bit shy, Minju shifts into the couch underneath you, flattening her back on the cushions to bring you down with her. Her slender arms lift high above her head, as if she’s daring you to explore her further, willingly inviting your hands to travel up and down to explore wherever you please. 

You'll accept this invitation without a second thought.

There's an inherent magnetism pulling you closer, as your fingertips caress whatever bare skin is in reach. With so many different paths to explore, all these intoxicating features that you want to taste and lick clean, it’s near impossible to pick where to start. While the gears in your head turn, Minju just stares back, so curious as to what you plan to do first.

It’s impossible to make a decision.

This body, this tight body of a goddess demands your utmost attention. These thick thighs perfect to wrap around your head, wide hips that were made for your hands, and this irresistible stomach that practically screams for you to make a sticky mess on. 

That’s all before you get to see what’s hidden underneath those tiny, barely there shorts. 

Minju’s curiosity doesn’t take long to satisfy while you plant your lips on her stomach, peppering the warm skin in kisses and licks as you taste every inch. This light hint of sweat, the sweetness that you can only attribute to Minju's delicious taste, it all comes from just her sexy stomach. It doesn't take much to imagine what other places would taste like.

The soft sighs that she makes encourage you to lick more, to plant messy kisses that cover every bit of her tight abdomen, while you can hear every breath she takes as you ensure you don’t miss a single spot. 

“God, Minju—“ You continue this feast of unapologetic indulgence, kissing your way upwards towards Minju’s cute chest, roaming between the valley of her breasts. “You’re fucking perfect.” 

“Better not forget that.” Minju gets a shy blush on her cheeks, and her nipples react the moment you tease them by playfully pinching them, rolling them, tugging between your fingers. Before her next breath, you get your lips wrapped around them, and then you take these unabashed slurps, these pretty buds that merit your equal attention. 

The cutest whine escapes Minju when your tongue circles the stiff buds, making them stand out even more under your stimulation. She’s so sensitive, and you relish in that, planning to use it to your advantage later. And fuck, there just isn’t a part of her that doesn’t taste absolutely delicious. 

As breathtaking as the girl’s body is, it’s not even the main event. You’re having too much enjoyment sucking on her cute tits, teasing them with your sloppy tongue, but you just know there’s a growing heat between her thighs, one that mirrors the frustration levels of your dick straining against your pants. 

You’ve got Minju’s body all mapped out, and you could spend all night tasting these delicious curves, devouring her breasts, planting as many kisses on her tummy as you can—but it’s unfair to ignore the other appetizing parts of her deadly figure. 

Besides, you can’t wait to peel those shorts off her ridiculous hips. 

A moment to catch your breath is all you need, because there’s no more time left to hold back your lust. You leave her with one lingering kiss on her stomach, and then your greedy hands peel those annoying shorts off with Minju’s assistance when she lifts her butt up. Through that eager smile, she doesn’t spoil the surprise that there's not even a pair of underwear underneath to stand in the way of her naked body—

That silky smooth, shaven pussy is all you can focus on, already soaking wet when she parts her thighs to give a tempting glimpse at those pink lips, and all you can think about is what they'll feel like wrapped around your cock. 

“Do you normally not wear panties, Minju?” you say, taking a moment to admire the sight of her bare cunt in its glory. 

“Depends on the company,” she admits, this faux innocent expression that is anything but that washes over her. You can’t go another second without getting your cock out, desperate for any kind of relief from this persistent ache while you unzip your pants. Minju watches you strip down with the same hunger in her gaze, shirt pulled over your head in one motion, and then your pants slide off along with your boxers. 

"That's much better," Minju says, and gets her fingers wrapped around your shaft, with no intention of doing anything else except for that. “It's so big, so perfect for me..." 

A firm squeeze gets your throbs going, as if you needed any encouragement to be rock hard, and Minju gets this content little smile at feeling it grow even more between her fingers. 

As the moments pass, her innocent demeanor fades, replaced by a longing gaze fixated on your hardened shaft, where there’s only one destination your length needs to sink into. Sprawling out on the cushions, Minju stretches out her long legs that are practically built to wrap around your body. 

Those wet folds, and your throbbing cock, there's only one outcome when they have their first meeting. 

With no reluctance, you position yourself between Minju's spread thighs, feeling how slick her pussy has gotten with anticipation. You run your cock against her dripping folds that glisten, teasing her slit as your shaft coats itself in her wetness. "It'll fit inside you so fucking well." 

You’re too speechless to apologize to Minju for not eating her out first, but judging by the way she’s looking at you, she’ll live. The initial plunge rips a heavy moan right out of your throat, all these sensations hitting all at once. There's no pause when you pull back, then slide in again unabated, pushing more of your thick shaft into this perfect pussy. 

"Fuck, you're so damn tight, Minju, god—"

“Did you expect anything else?” she asks, before another moan tears through her. There's no resistance to impede you, just inviting wet flesh that wraps around your cock in this wetness, your cockhead sliding deeper into the warmth of her cunt with ease.

“Oh my god.” Her walls tighten around your shaft, this overwhelming heat welcoming every inch into her cunt like it belongs there. “This pussy is perfect. I’m going to use it every chance I get.” 

“I sure hope so. That’s what I’m here for.” 

With nothing else but a confident smile on Minju’s face, and nothing but these erotic little moans as her walls stretch to accommodate every inch, until you can bottom her out for the first time. She’s so fucking tight it’s almost painful, this absolute vice grip that squeezes the life out of your cock, ensuring you aren’t going anywhere. “Your cock is so thick, it’s filling me up so well…” 

The urge to just drive your cock as deep inside of her as possible becomes overwhelming, and Minju doesn't give any signs that she wants to be treated delicately. There's no room for restraint or holding back with how well she takes it all, how badly she craves every inch you've got. “Don’t think for a moment I can’t take you all.” 

So you let the carnal urges take control, grabbing her slender waist and pounding into this heavenly cunt with no remorse. 

“Minju, fuck, your pussy feels so good,” you growl, each thrust only making you want to stay buried in there longer. You’re hitting all the right angles, creating an erotic soundtrack of flesh while Minju's wet cunt swallows you up to the base, squeezing in just the perfect way around every last inch as you pull back and plunge right back in.

“And it’ll feel even better when you cum inside.” 

There’s hardly even any time to think of a response before Minju wraps her long legs around your waist, digging her heels into the small of your back so she can draw your cock in even deeper. “I hope you weren’t expecting to pull out."

Hearing those words is like a shot of adrenaline that makes you pound into her cunt with everything you have, burying your cock balls deep with every long, powerful stroke. 

“Not a fucking chance, Minju. I’m pounding this perfect cunt until I fuck a load inside you.” 

There’s a devilish grin on her face when she hears that, legs tightening to make you backup your words, her dripping pussy clenching harder as if trying to coax that load out sooner. “With how deep you’re fucking me, you better not do anything else.” 

Through all these harsh thrusts, and the rough pistoning of your hips, you need to pull back every once in a while. Only so you can have the perfect view of Minju's body covered in more sweat than before, even more irresistible to not lick the side of her neck, savoring every little taste you can get. 

And the noises she makes only get filthier the harder your hips move, the best encouragement for you to bury your face into the crook of her neck as her beautiful legs keep your body hostage. This pounding is everything you’ve needed, keeping Minju breathless in her moans, a symphony of pleasure that gets siphoned right in your ears.

“This is how I’m going to destroy your cunt when I fuck you. Every single time. Your pretty pussy won’t go a day without getting a huge fucking load inside.” 

“Yeah? You promise?” Minju asks, and you’re fucking her so well, so hard, that she’s getting delirious. “There’s nothing better than getting a nice, thick load filling me up first thing in the morning.” 

That’s all the motivation you need to keep this train of pleasure going. 

Minju can feel it. She can feel how your thick cock twitches with every deep stroke, the pleasure becoming far too much for you to bear. At the tail end of an especially harsh thrust, she wraps her arms around your neck and holds tight, not leaving an inch of space between the two of you while you drill as hard as your hips allow. "Please, I'm going to cum. Keep fucking me, please keep fucking me like this…"

The begging flows freely right into your ears, and these desperate pleas offer another wave of encouragement that pulls you closer and closer to release. And it’s not like you can do much at this point but keep your hips moving, while Minju clings to you, limbs coiled like she never plans on letting you escape.

“Don't stop—I'm going to cum so fucking hard!" Minju cries out, and there's no need to hold anything back as she chases after that release. 

Wanting to speed this up, your lips latch onto Minju's sweaty neck, planting sloppy kisses that make her walls flutter, spilling more wetness while you crash your hips into her. Her thighs can’t stop quivering, breathing frantically until that intense orgasm is almost in range, back arching up in time for the final waves of bliss to crash into her. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ A litany of curses leaves her mouth , filling the room, and then Minju tightens her hold as these messy juices gush all over your cock, unleashing the most unrestrained orgasm of her life that erupts in her body. Through it all, her warm cunt spasms, convulsing, these drenched walls constricting so hard to the point where there's no other alternative than to paint her insides a creamy white. 

“Cum in me, fuck—oh my god, I want it all, fill my fucking pussy,” Minju begs and pleads, her trembling legs with a death grip around your waist. And then she cries out in loud, incoherent moans, only managing to spill out one more thing: "Fucking breed me—"

There’s absolutely nothing that can prepare you for the feeling when you unload inside. Your climax explodes into Minju without warning, several thick spurts of cum flooding deep within her cunt, warm walls squeezing to milk it all out of your balls. Each violent throb is a fresh surge that sends an extra big mess of thick seed into her pussy, an increasing fullness that clings inside while your pulsating cock empties this massive load into Minju. 

During this intense orgasm, Minju’s alluring legs lock you in place, guaranteeing you can't pull out for a second, not until all your pleasure reaches its apex. 

You might be here forever, you think, trapped inside this warm paradise, but you’d be more than happy to never move another inch inside Minju all night. While she basks in the obscene pleasure of her cunt now full to the brim, you can only move enough to pump your load deep, deeper inside her until it finds her womb. 

"That's a lot of cum," Minju says, and she looks absolutely delighted at the mess you've made inside her, like she’s accomplished something grand just by making you explode inside her cunt. 

You have a feeling a hot load inside Minju will be a common sight as coffee being brewed, and it’s almost like she hasn’t drained you once already with this load that’s promising to make a mess whenever it spills out. 

“So, how about that shower,” you suggest, even while Minju hasn't even released the hold from your body yet. She doesn’t have the slightest intentions of getting cleaned up anytime soon, wanting to let this high linger a while longer. 

“Like you said—the shower can wait.” 

There’s never been a better idea. 

"Yeah, it can wait." 

You share a tired kiss as Minju keeps you close, bodies sticky as her limbs finally uncoil and relax. It’s near impossible to not collapse on her from exhaustion, but from the way she gazes at you with thirst lingering in her eyes, there's no such thing as rest. Not when you have this endless freedom to use her as your own personal toy.

When you do eventually pull out, leaving Minju with all of your cum pumped into her tight little cunt, there’s nothing but gratitude on her face to see the results leak out. And when she grabs your cock that’s more than a little sensitive, to give these weak little pumps, you don't have the strength to beg her to stop.

“Minju—“ It feels more like she’s teasing you, rather than attempting to get you back into a proper state of arousal with such lackadaisical motions. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you again?"

“Hmm, maybe,” Minju says, giving you a fleeting glance, and doesn’t mouth anything else, like she’s trying to demonstrate that you can recover earlier than you think, wanting your balls to fill back up sooner than later. “Seems like you might have one more in you…” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

With whatever energy is left, you put it into kissing Minju, to explore these lips that haven’t even gotten half the attention deserved. Also as a poor excuse to extend the time you’ll need to recover. Neither of you have any intention of going anywhere during this lazy make-out session, and even while you’re both covered in fluids, you’ll kiss Minju until your jaw hurts. 

“Not bad,” Minju says, a sudden compliment as the kiss intensifies, until her hand slides between your legs to keep pumping your cock, ensuring not a single inch softens. 

“Which part?” you ask, not that you’re particularly interested in anything other than dominating this lip embrace.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she teases, while you plant these light kisses that purposely miss her lips. “But… the part where you’re good at kissing me. And the part where you came inside me. ”

“Sounds like you want more.” 

“Yeah… maybe….” 

“Then consider me convinced,” you say, helping her stand upright, and lead her towards the bathroom—leaving the remnants of your messy load that leaks out of her pussy all over the couch. That’s a problem for another time.

The walk to the bathroom is short, but still gives you plenty of time to stare at Minju’s tight butt, and the mess that clings to her glistening thighs. One of the best features of this apartment is how spacious the shower is, more than enough to fit a second person—or a third, if you were so inclined. 

But neither of you are interested in the shower. 

Minju leans over the sink to check herself out in the mirror, running fingers through her hair to somewhat put herself back together. Staring at her own reflection puts a grin on her face, proud of how disheveled she looks, while also noticing the dark mark in the shape of your lips on her neck.

“You know, I forgot to pack a toothbrush,” she says out of nowhere, attention turned away from herself to the contents of the sink. 

“I can buy you one in the morning.” 

You lean in closer, and your hands snake around Minju’s perfectly slim waist, eager to feel up her tight abdomen once more. That mark on her neck is like a target, and when you take a deep inhale of her intoxicating scent, you make sure to cover her neck in kisses that make her giggle. 

“You came in my mouth. I think you’ll live if we share a toothbrush for one night.” Minju rolls her hips back, grinding against your erection to reawaken your cock back to full strength. These little kisses turn more lustful as she turns her head to connect lips with you for a more sloppy, wet, all-consuming embrace. 

“Fair point.” 

Your hands are far too greedy at this point to do anything but grope Minju’s naked body. The touch of her smooth skin reinvigorates you, sending blood back into all the right places, something that’s blatantly obvious to this naked girl in front of you. 

“I can feel how hard you are again,” Minju mutters, with this shy little expression on her features that’s so out of place. She pushes away from the sink, pressing her lithe figure back, and it's hard not to picture fucking Minju here, slamming your hips hard enough between her shapely cheeks to ripple them. 

“Yeah? Wonder whose fault that is...” The idea becomes more concrete when you squeeze that supple ass, your greedy fingertips sinking into the tender flesh, like her backside was made for your palm to smack as you get in a few light slaps that echo. 

“Do you think my cock will fit in here?” 

Spreading her round cheeks, you get a glimpse at how her puckered hole twitches, already craving you inside it. That bubble butt is absolutely perfect in your hands, and it’s no trouble at all to spread Minju open, as you wonder how it’ll feel to rub your cockhead against her tightest hole. 

"We can always find out.” Minju gets this sultry tone in her voice, hands lingering on the cool countertop as she bends over even further, her ass imploring you to fill that hole. It makes it hard to stay focused with this perfect cunt and tight little asshole both accessible, but there’s only one problem—

“It’s a shame the lube is in the bedroom. And I can’t be bothered to take my eyes off this tight little ass.” 

"Tease.” 

“I would never.” 

There’s nothing in reach that’s anything but a poor substitute, but you’re not going to walk away for something in your nightstand when you’re throbbing so much between the cheeks of such a perfect ass. So, regrettably, you'll have to postpone your plans to pound Minju's ass. It’ll make it worth the wait that much more. 

Without another word, you guide your length back into her warm little pussy, grabbing her curvy hips to slide back in. 

“Oh fuck— ” When your hardened shaft plunges deep between her legs, Minju nearly collapses over the sink. Her hot cunt feels more than ready for you, all this wetness pooled that’s infused with the creamy mess you left earlier staining her walls. 

The second your hips move, those pretty fucking moans from Minju have no trouble echoing around the walls. Her seductive stare beckons you to fuck her like the toy she promises to be, to use her until she can’t take anymore—a temptation too sweet to turn down. 

"Just like that, your cock is so good, god—just ruin me, fuck, please—“ Minju’s eyes widen from how hard you start slamming into her. This time, there’s absolutely no chance to adjust, nothing less but an incessant replay of your hips as you sink into the hilt, pounding her like the warm, wet, wonderful cocksleeve that she is, getting those heavenly walls stretched out all over again.

With no restraint in your thrusts, you can truly pound this tight pussy without mercy. The warmth that smothers your cock, how slick her pussy has gotten—god, it feels so fucking good that you don't ever want to stop, even after you pump another hot load.

“That's it, right there—right there, harder," she says with these breathless whines that are nothing more than unabashed encouragement. Fingers trembling, they dig into the porcelain of the sink, making the entire bathroom resonate with the harsh, wet smacks of flesh colliding together, in unison with each thrust. "Use that pussy—fuck, make me take it all, use me, god, use me, fucking use me—“

Those words, they make it so easy to do so, to keep up these thrusts, to just ram your cock into this hot little cunt that’s aching to be full, clenching down around you like it'll never let go.

And this ass—Minju’s got a perfect fucking ass, that you're already fantasizing about plowing. There's just no end to how much it bounces, the erotic jiggle that fuels your need to smack your palm against it, leaving red marks that'll stay on that pale flesh. 

"You're so fucking wet for me, Minju, god,” you groan out, pulling your cock out just so you can admire all the slick coating every single inch, before shoving it right back in. Minju bites down on her lip, trying to contain her moans with this near blush on her face from enjoying the rough treatment of her body far too much, moaning in bliss every time your thrusts make her hips jerk against the sink. 

“I just can’t help it. Your cock is too fucking big, my little pussy just loves it.” These constant smacks, they make her cunt clench, the pain forming additional pleasure. After your next heavy slap on her ass, your free hand ventures up her bare back, caressing along her spine in a gentle touch. But that gentleness doesn’t last when your fingers form a fistful of Minju's silky black strands—and a firm tug lifts her back so she's staring right into her reflection.

There's something to be said about being able to see Minju's pretty face as you wreck her body. All these priceless reactions she can't hide as she watches herself getting ravaged in the mirror that her hot breath fogs up. It’s an image you’ll never forget. 

You keep a tight handful of hair, each tug and yank rewarded with another moan, and she can barely even keep her eyes open, drunk on bliss as you dominate her body with every powerful plunge of your cock into that drenched warm flesh. 

Minju, through all these rough pumps and strained moans, can hardly keep up. Scrambling to keep a hold of the sink for dear life, she braces for each punishing stroke that reaches into her depths, your deep, rough thrusts that only grow in ferocity as you're both on the cusp of another release.

"Almost there, god—you're so deep, gonna cum so hard," Minju groans out as a euphoric wave hits her body with no chance of escape. "Make me cum on your big fucking cock—make me cum, oh fuck!"

That’s the only warning you’ll get. When the arrival of her violent climax hits, it gets her legs trembling, that sweaty body so close to collapsing that it leaves you to support all her weight as her toes curl into the bathroom rug, walls clamping down around your cock so snug it makes you grit your teeth. You fuck her right through this tsunami of pleasure, hips maintaining the same brutal pace, following the same path she takes until you’re nearly at the boiling point. 

“Minju,“ you growl, and there’s little else that needs to be said to know where this is headed. 

This isn’t asking for permission, but rather giving a final notice that this thick load that’s about to leave your balls desperately needs somewhere to go.

“Where?” Minju asks, struggling to get one little syllable out, and the question lingers as you get your final thrusts in. Without a response, you stare at the reflection in the mirror, pounding into this unbelievably tight girl with everything you have left to offer, until the last possible moment—

“Get on your knees.” 

Pulling out proves to be a challenge, but you've got plans that demand it as you give Minju enough time to collapse down without a shred of resistance, and you can already tell this is going to be a messy finale. The moment her knees touch the cold tile floor, you grab a hold of that gorgeous hair as you furiously stroke yourself in front of her face, squeezing your length that feels absolutely primed to erupt.

You let out a guttural groan of relief when you start to unload all over Minju's pristine features, this massive jet of hot, sticky seed that she doesn’t even flinch at as it lands square in the middle of her forehead, streaking down her cute nose. Your uncontrollable load blasts everywhere, across those pretty pink lips, splattering across cheek to rosy cheek while she stays perfectly still, letting you paint her like the masterpiece she is. 

It just gets everywhere. The beautiful canvas that is Minju’s face, it’s an absolute mess, cum dripping down her chin, a stray strand landing in her hair, more running down the bridge of her nose as you pump it all out and glaze her.

There's just so fucking much that it has Minju looking at you through this hot mess in a stunned silence, wondering how you even managed to have that much pent up inside—this load that has no right being so huge that you almost feel inclined to apologize. But this is really her doing, this sinful body of hers to blame for such a gratuitous payload. 

"There you go, all over this pretty little face," Minju says as she stares in awe, bewildered by how much of you she’s covered in. Your massive load drips down her lips as her tongue catches it, and not a single drop goes to waste. “How do you still have so much—didn’t you just finish inside me?” 

That’s a really good fucking question.

 One without an answer as Minju gives you a long lick of your cockhead before taking it back in her mouth, sucking the rest of you clean with a satisfied hum as it continues to drip down her face. 

“Well—only have you to blame, fuck,“ you groan, and you might just pass out with the way Minju refuses to let that hot mouth off you. “Yeah, this is definitely all your fault. 

Nothing but elation etches Minju’s face when she kisses the tip of your cock one last time, her gratitude for your cum written on her lips. Using a couple of fingers, she cleans up by swirling cum around her lips until it coats her fingertips, then puts them in her mouth, licking them clean, giving an audible slurp as she sucks every last drop down.

Maybe it’s about time for that shower. 

That is, if you could only move. Because even though the shower is only inches away, it might as well be in a whole different neighborhood with how weak and heavy your legs feel. There’s no time to rush, and you don’t mind a few more lingering moments seeing your messy load dripping across this girl. 

“You’re so pretty, Minju.” 

Minju only smiles with those cum-stained lips as the hot water starts. 

✦ ✦

Over the next few days, you’ve gotten quite comfortable fucking Minju on the regular.

This little arrangement already has lived up to its potential, and you wonder how you were ever reluctant about having a roommate—especially with these benefits. The only possible complaint you have is that there just aren’t enough hours in the day to spend balls deep inside Minju. 

There’s no routine to it. When the mood hits. When the clock ends in a seven. When you’re waiting for leftovers to heat up, you’ll seek out Minju to suck your dick, or bend her over whatever surface is closest. 

And it never gets old. 

During work, she’ll sit on your lap, keeping you company during a dull day with your cock all nice and warm inside her, like this little office pet of yours that knows the right moments to keep quiet. In between meetings, you'll bend her over the desk and pump that tight little cunt full of another thick load that she’ll keep inside while she goes to prepare lunch. 

It’s not unusual to be on a video call with a client, with Minju sucking you off underneath the desk, keeping her sloppy mouth on your shaft all the while you carry on business. And the best part—she’ll straddle you, right on top of your office chair, bouncing up and down on your cock with a dozen or so other coworkers on a conference call who are none the wiser. 

Minju is well aware what time you wake up, so almost every morning before you've even tossed the sheets off, she knows exactly what you'll want—a warm mouth deepthroating your cock without being told. 

Later that afternoon, there’s a new book to immerse herself in as she finds her favorite spot to cozy up in when you unbutton her jeans, slipping them off to spread those long, smooth legs so you can feast on her delectable pussy. Minju reads as if nothing is happening, like you don’t have your tongue buried in her cunt, warming up her tight little entrance just enough to slip your cock inside her without distraction. You don’t want to break her concentration too much, so you try your best not to make much noise, but well, it can’t exactly be helped when she feels so fucking warm and wet inside. 

The only acknowledgment given is these subtle moans that slip out when you get every inch of your cock in her, hands holding that narrow waist with a tight, unrelenting grip. But Minju, she’s too lost in this completely different world while you fill her up so perfectly, not even looking up as you fuck her. 

And honestly, sometimes that’s for the best—being able to use her while she’s preoccupied, without either of you muttering a word as you slide balls deep into her incredibly warm cunt. It doesn’t mean, though, that you can’t challenge yourself to get a moan out of her. 

When you inevitably cum inside Minju, a faint smile creeps up on her lips. Otherwise, she doesn’t say a word, turning more pages while you pump a hot mess inside her. She only takes notice of the steady flow of cum inside once you exit her warmth, one hand playing with your load and pushing it deeper into her messy folds, while the other hand continues reading her book. 

The following day, as the coffee brews, your roommate is already on her knees, and you’re fucking her face so roughly that tears stream down her cheeks while she gags around your cock. There’s not any makeup yet on that gorgeous face to ruin, but Minju guzzles down your load and goes about making breakfast, like it's all part of her routine. 

First thing, the next morning during work, you’re railing Minju in your office chair, with her gorgeous, sexy legs perched on your shoulders while you’re taking a short break from another tedious conference call. At this rate, your flimsy chair might give way before either of you cum, but that doesn’t matter too much—you can get your work to buy another one. 

You’re absolutely not paying attention to anything but the pleasure of Minju's tight cunt. 

The breathless moans from her lips are a much better alternative than whatever monotonous voice through the speakers drones on about spreadsheets and analytics. Even though your job doesn’t require you to step inside an office often, your cock buried inside Minju is the only way you can survive these remote meetings—but you continuously double-check that the camera is off and the microphone is muted. That’s a mistake you’ll only let happen once. 

Now that you have Minju all to yourself once the call ends, you lift her body up into the air, cock still buried, and impale her pussy just as hard as before while her legs wrap around your waist. 

She feels so small as you bounce her frame up and down, this weightless girl that’s light as a feather. You could carry Minju around the apartment if you wanted, but this is far more satisfying, a test of how many times you can make her cum while holding her up in your arms, absolutely hammering into her soaking cunt until you fill her to the brim. 

Later on in the afternoon, you get the urge again (as you tend to do), and Minju is sitting comfortably on her bed, laptop out, concentrating on what you presume is finding her next paycheck. Once you walk in, the laptop lid shuts, and she takes those big, cute frames off and tosses them on her nightstand, leaning back onto the bed in anticipation. 

You feel guilty disturbing her search, but you're exhausted from a workday that isn’t even over, so this won’t take long. 

Discarding your pants, you climb onto the bed, hovering your crotch above Minju's face, and pull your cock out of your boxers, as you start to stroke in her direction.

The mere sight of that beautiful face is enough to help you get off without any trouble. A few final tugs and you're there, groaning her name as you spray a pearlescent mess all over her face, thick cum shooting onto her cheek, landing on those pretty lips, a line across her nose, some up the side of her forehead. The relief is instant, the stress of a long day fading away while Minju lies there for you to stare at, your cock resting against her lips as you milk out every drop.

"Thanks, Minju. I needed that," you sigh, taking one more look at your impressive handiwork. “Gotta get back to work now.” 

✦ ✦

Minju hasn’t forgotten to hold up her side of the bargain. 

She’s here to get her shit together, not be a freeloader. While she’s financially destitute at the moment, she pays rent in other ways. Ways that aren’t giving head during a movie or being your personal on-demand fucktoy. Almost every night, without fail, Minju cooks up a delicious meal (and she's equally talented at it as she is at sucking you off). She'll even bring dinner to your office if you're working late and forget to eat. Not only does she do the laundry but also keeps the apartment in order, replenishing the fridge whenever needed.

This all buys you more time to fold Minju in half and unload what feels like a week’s worth of cum onto her flat stomach.

So, it goes without saying that your apartment would be in much rougher shape without Minju. That she’s more than just a warm hole to fuck your load into. She's a pleasure to be around, an ear to vent your frustrations to, someone whose absence would leave a noticeable void. 

Sure, it’s nice to fuck Minju senseless whenever you’re all pent up, but having someone across the kitchen table to talk to during a meal, or someone to watch bad movies with on the couch is just as valuable. 

Which brings you to the here and now. 

It's early afternoon, after finishing a mountain of work, and you go looking for Minju to escape these four walls of your home office that feel like a prison. She’s in her bedroom, sorting through laundry, and stops what she’s doing when you enter. 

Because one glance and she already knows. 

Minju lies on her stomach while you stand in front of her bed, stroking her gorgeous face as she gazes up and gets your cock out. With just the lightest of strokes, her delicate hand pumps the length of your cock, bringing you to full arousal in no time. And once you are, you glide the swollen head of your shaft over her glossy lips, coating them in your glistening precum. 

"You always need my mouth so much, don't you?" she purrs, teasing your cock with her hot breath, tongue dancing across the sensitive underside.

Letting out these little gasps is the only thing you answer, unable to give a proper response as your shaft stiffens unbearably so against the wet tongue caressing you, then her lips part with no further need of words, and invite you to guide yourself into the warm heaven of her mouth. 

A full, deep sigh leaves as those beautiful lips envelop your swollen cockhead. And god, her mouth feels so perfect, so warm while you thread fingers through her hair, holding her in place. She drools down your length, giving more playful licks before starting to devour your length inch by inch, all the way until her nose is nearly pressed against your stomach. 

"Minju—this pretty fucking mouth—fuck," you moan, just relishing her slow, steady bobs as she takes you deep, all of you inside her wet throat, looking right up at you. She savors your taste before saying anything else, lips popping off your shaft with trails of spit down her chin. 

"It feels so good, right? My pretty mouth wrapped around you,” she murmurs, spitting on your throbbing shaft to get it even more glistening, stroking it, rubbing that little sensitive sweet spot she knows you love. “Because your thick cock tastes so fucking good." 

That warm, talented mouth returns, swallowing you whole in one go, and you’re tempted to just fuck her throat to completion—but this blowjob isn't meant for the finish line, even as Minju eagerly deepthroats your length, craving to milk out a load from your balls as soon as possible. 

“Minmin, I—really need to fuck you." There’s a pause in her sloppy movements, to acknowledge the nickname you've called her, like she wants to hear it again. In this moment, you let Minju's warm mouth work her magic on your throbbing shaft, indulging in the sinful slurps she makes, as her tongue lavishes your cock until there’s not a single inch unexplored. But as good as her mouth is, it’s not enough—you need to be elsewhere, somewhere warmer, much tighter, to really satiate this appetite. 

“Stay right fucking there.” 

Minju obliges, staying flat on her stomach, and awaits what’s next with this innocent look full of curiosity as you approach from behind. And while she’s still got on all these bothersome clothes, you quickly rectify that, unbuttoning and tugging her jeans down to her ankles to grant a path to that delicious-looking cunt. 

When you climb on top of Minju, her pussy glistens in anticipation. It takes only a few shallow thrusts to bury your needy cock to the hilt, letting out a strained groan when you're fully sheathed inside her tight warmth. Her little whimpering cries tell you she needs this as much as you did, as her wet folds greedily pull you in, demanding more and more. 

“Oh god, fuck, you fill me up so well,” Minju moans, as you start pounding her tight cunt without warning. No teasing, no mercy. Nothing but a rough, relentless fuck that leaves both of you breathless as she takes every inch, laying idle to accept it all.“Please, just—fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can.” 

Pressing your whole body into Minju's slender figure, you pound away with no restrictions, relishing this prone position that lets you get as deep into this welcoming heat as you please. “Oh my god, Minju—your pussy is—un-fucking-believable."

Here, you can dominate Minju without restriction, and she takes it as well as you imagine. A shuddering groan leaves her lips every time your hips collide, when you plow into her at this rapid pace. While she usually can’t stay quiet while you're balls deep in her, all of a sudden Minju goes silent, not letting a single syllable slip as you ram her cunt with such unforgiving thrusts.

“Hey, uh—“ Minju breaks the silence as you keep her tight frame pinned into the mattress, going as hard as your hips will allow. “Do you mind not cumming inside me this time?” 

Your body takes a pause, and your hips slow down as you register her words. There’s only one instinct, and that’s to empty inside her like usual. It's become so natural that hearing her suggest anything else makes it feel… wrong.

“Asking a lot here, Minju. Do you want me to stop breathing as well?” The audacity of this request when you’ve gone all out at it from the get-go. It’s so sudden and unexpected, because Minju’s the first to beg and beg for you to breed her. 

“It’s just once. I have an interview in half an hour, so I’d rather not have to shower again.” 

She’s really asking for the impossible here. 

“But then I can fuck you again in the shower…” you say amidst all this intense fucking, but the look Minju flashes back tells you that isn’t the answer she wanted. So while Minju’s taking you so hard and fast during this rough fucking, with your full weight on her as you’re pounding away in her slick heat, your cock so eager and ready to explode, yet somehow, you’re expected to pull out—

“Fine. But only this once.” And you can’t believe that you’ve agreed to this the moment those words slip out. 

“Hey, you can still cum in my mouth,” Minju says with this proud tone, like it’s any consolation. “I’ll make it worth your while when I come back. Promise. I owe you.” 

You’re never one to doubt Minju, but this is one big favor she’s going to have to pay back, with interest. Even so, a sigh of frustration escapes your lips when you pull out, flip Minju on her back, and straddle her chest to finish yourself off. 

When you shoot your hot load into her mouth, painting her waiting tongue and lips in these white streaks, it’s a relatively weak and unfulfilling climax in comparison. Despite that, Minju’s still happy to take it, to swallow it all down greedily, like she’s dying for a second one that there’s no time for. 

“Good luck,” you mumble out with a strangled breath as Minju slurps your cock clean with her hungry lips. You can see a mix of satisfaction and disappointment etched on her face that mirrors you, because you both know that load belonged in her pussy. 

“Thank you. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Then you can breed me as many times as you want.” 

✦ ✦

Minju has spoiled you to no end. 

There isn’t a single day when she doesn’t so much as wish good night without draining your balls. Whether you prefer a quick, sloppy blowjob, railing Minju from behind, or watching her fit body do all the work, riding until you finish deep inside her, she doesn’t head to bed without you filling her up.

It’s routine to fuck a load into her first thing in the morning, whether she's brushing her teeth, putting on makeup, or simply eating breakfast. 

This agreement, it's been long enough that you no longer feel the apprehension about using Minju, no qualms about spending every morning with her lips on your cock, to spend afternoons with her face in the couch cushions, drilling her wet little hole while she answers her phone to respond to appointments and interviews.

Nearly two hours pass before Minju returns. The door closes shut with an exhausted sigh, and she sets down her bag, kicking off her heels, and takes a seat right next to you on the couch.

“How did it go?” 

Minju doesn't have an immediate answer. Her focus is elsewhere as she stretches her legs across your lap, settling into a more comfortable position on the couch before responding.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe it went well. Maybe it didn’t. I think they liked me—but that doesn’t mean I’ll get the job.” 

There's a certain hesitation when she answers, like there’s more she wants to talk about but chooses not to. You know firsthand how taxing these interviews can be, as you’ve been on both sides of them, especially for Minju, who tries to look as flawless as can be, only to be passed over because her resumé isn't a mile long. 

“If you don’t, then it means they picked the wrong person.” 

Minju smiles shyly before her eyes drift away. Now, it feels strange to watch someone so usually full of confidence look so unsure of herself. But she shakes that off quickly, like that self-doubting voice doesn’t belong to her, reverting back to that same bright expression. “Whatever happens happens. I'm just thankful you're letting me stay here practically rent free.” 

“Well, you can stay as long as you need. Even if you find a job, there's no need to rush out. This place would be too quiet without you around."

In her black pleated skirt, Minju climbs up and straddles your lap. She leans in and presses her soft lips on your own in a quick kiss, making no attempt to hide her affection.

“So. I owe you a promise."

The insinuation hangs heavy on her words as a shameless smirk takes over her lips. Even after the stressful events earlier, Minju never misses a chance to satisfy your desires, so quick to change from this somber tone into her role as your plaything, like a switch being flipped. 

“If I remember correctly… you keep your lube in the bedroom drawer, right?” 

You’ve done almost everything to Minju; fucking her brains out in every corner of every room, in practically every position imaginable, yet you've done almost nothing to appreciate her exceptional ass. At the bare minimum, you've enjoyed the sight of those perfect plump cheeks as she endlessly rides your cock, but aside from giving them a firm squeeze or some light spanks, it hasn't had the attention it deserves. 

While you have this insatiable hunger to wreck her ass, this is still entirely uncharted territory. So you respond to Minju with a silent nod, getting your hands on her underneath her skirt, grabbing that taut butt through her thin underwear to enjoy this divine handful. 

“I’ll go get it,” Minju offers with a lingering kiss to your cheek, but you grab her wrist to stop her path before she can get off your lap.

“Not yet.” 

Your hold on Minju doesn’t falter as you knead her asscheeks, not willing to part yet. ”Stay here. So I can see how pretty you are.”

Those cute pink cheeks that you covered in your load earlier now have a rosy tint as she looks up, letting you savor this moment a little longer. Your mind races with all the things you’ve yet to do, this perfect hourglass body that’s yours to explore, to use, to do whatever you can imagine. Yet, there’s only one thing you haven’t done to this beautiful girl, one place your cock hasn’t had the pleasure being in—

“What was it you wanted? To see if your cock would fit in my ass?” 

There’s no need for this extravagant fantasy to drag on, so you lift her up still with a firm grip on her ass, and bring her into your bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Minju.” 

“Me neither.” She sits in your lap as she admits, and with your arms propped back against the mattress, you watch Minju with unwavering attention. 

Every button on her blouse gets undone one by one, tantalizingly slow until it falls open to reveal more pale skin that complements the pink lacy bra you've bought for her. Once that comes off, you take in all that wonderful skin, drinking in those breasts that spill out, and her tight tummy that you've painted with so many loads already. 

“Now the skirt,” you tell her, and Minju flashes a smirk at your impatience. But she obeys, gets off your lap, unzips, then lets the garment fall down those smooth thighs until it lands in a pile around her feet, leaving Minju standing before you in only matching pink lace.

Before her underwear comes off, she spins on her heels to show off this perfect little ass in front of your face, bending over so you can take in the sight of those ample curves that frame your view so nicely. "Care to do the honors?" 

The answer is obvious. 

Giving those cheeks a nice little smack, you hook a finger under the waistband of her thong and slowly peel this little pair of lace down, leaving no detail of her round, scrumptious cheeks unseen, and exposing this tight little asshole you're dying to stretch.

"Hey—are you just going to stare all day, or are you going to put your cock in my ass?”

A difficult choice for sure—with the latter infinitely more enticing. Minju answers the question for herself as you stay perched on the edge of the bed, your focus never shifting from that delicious backside. She heads towards the bedside table, opening a drawer to fetch something. When she returns, you’ve matched her state of undress, getting your own clothes off in a flash. 

Bottle in hand, her gaze trails down your body to see this aching hard length that needs somewhere to sink inside; the sight making her salivate as she reaches for your shaft and pours a generous amount of lube into her hand.

Minju coats your entire cock in the cool, slick lube that only heats up once her hand pumps it, leaving every single inch drenched. This liquid has other plans too, slicking up her fingers before they slip between her own asscheeks, spreading herself and working the lubed digits inside her puckered hole in preparation for what's next.

“You look like you're ready to tear me open," she says, eyes widened at the sight of your big, thick cock, all lubed and primed for her asshole. This isn't an exaggeration as you lie back, watching the beautiful body of Minju straddle over your hips, hovering above you until she finds the right position.

"And you look like you can't wait to have this entire cock inside you."

"Of course I can't," she breathes out, lining you up with her tight asshole. One deep breath later, and she lowers down on you, trying to breach through that taut ring of muscle. You’re not sure how even a single inch plans to fit, and already it feels like it's stretching her beyond what's reasonable. Regardless, Minju still lets out these desperate moans as she tries to work your cockhead inside. 

“Shit, oh fuck—" Minju swears this isn’t her first time taking something up there, but with how tight this ass is, you’re not sure that you believe her.

The intense stretch has Minju crying out in bliss, doing all the work as she takes it nice and slow at first. Her fingers find her plump cheeks, spreading them just a little wider so she can fit more of your girth in. You can feel the desperation, that she really does want more of your thick cock buried in her asshole, and you’re aching to make her take your entire shaft with one swift drop of her hips—but she can barely manage your tip.

"You're really getting all in my ass, aren’t you?” she says with a moan, and you’re getting too impatient with the tease of this tight, gripping warmth as more of you sinks into Minju, disappearing past her puckered rim.

Minju puts in all this effort to take more, but there isn’t enough resistance in your muscles to just sit back and enjoy it. Patience thrown away, your own hips rise to meet her halfway, unable to keep your body from moving at all, getting a good grip as you guide her down, bit by bit.

"Keep going, Minmin, that's it," you encourage, and she does her best to obey, lowering her ass until she has almost every inch of you buried. That final push makes her cheeks come in contact with your balls, and her eyes shoot open.

"Oh fuck, oh my god—" Minju sounds so strained and overwhelmed that it almost sounds painful, but her nails only dig into your thighs, anchoring herself to keep you balls deep in her asshole as she looks over her shoulder to reassure you that she's content being this full. 

It takes a few deep breaths before she's ready for more, to get herself accustomed to having you so deep inside, before beginning to ride your cock with this tight, slick hole. All of this warmth around you, this ass, this tight little ass of hers feels like heaven, clenching around you. Minju can’t stop bouncing herself on you, ass smacking down on your thighs as she fucks your cock into her, impaling herself again and again.

"That's it, that's it—this big fucking dick. It's so deep.” Minju groans through ragged breaths, keeping the tempo until her hips move faster. She keeps riding, bouncing that tight little ass of hers, addicted to stretching that hot little hole wider as it accepts every single inch of you.

Your cock, her ass, there's no better combination. 

It's an amazing view, watching that asshole get stretched open, so wide around your shaft while her own hand wanders between her legs. This impossible tightness encourages you to thrust into her, drilling your cock, wanting to get in even deeper than humanly possible. 

You know that Minju can manage on her own, but your greed takes over as you lean her body back, hooking your arms under her knees, and pin them to her chest with your cock still inside her ass. Now it's her turn to let you take over, stretching her wider so she can really feel this deepness inside, opening her up in new unimaginable ways. 

The new angle offers much deeper thrusts, with you holding her weight, wrapping your arms behind her neck and slamming up into Minju with little regard for how wrecked she’ll get, balls deep with every drop of your hips against hers.

"Fuck, please—keep, oh shit!" Her voice sounds so fucked out, the delirium taking over her as your cock fills her, every last inch stuffed to the hilt. And the sounds Minju makes during this assault on her ass are unreal, deep whines ripped right out, fucking your entire length at the fastest pace you can into this tight asshole. 

"Your ass loves taking this fucking cock, doesn't it, Minmin?" You barely have it in you to speak at all, and all Minju can offer is another desperate whimper, unable to voice anything beyond swears at how full her tight hole is with your cock. 

"Please, god—don't fucking stop, don't you dare stop fucking my ass—"

This poor, helpless thing that you take your lust out on, legs spread obscenely wide in a v-shape position you've folded her in just pleads and cries for more. She’s unable to do much but take this pounding, and her mouth stays agape through your relentless thrusts, hammering into such a stretched, full, gaping hole.

Her flexibility comes in handy at times like these as she just lets you ruin her tight asshole without a care, feet helplessly dangling midair in the most pornographic display of carnal bliss, using her body to wring out every bit of pleasure. 

"Use me, oh my fucking god, please use my asshole until you fill it up."

As all those words spill out, there's no reason to fight it any longer as you fuck into Minju with reckless abandon, arms locking her in place to do as she asks, not daring to stop for any reason. With no end to your onslaught of violent thrusts, your balls begin to tighten, the start of an inevitable flood in her tight asshole. “So tight, fuck, gonna blow my fucking load right into your tight ass—“ 

Minju offers no response but her asshole clenching around your swollen shaft, urging you to release into her wrecked hole with everything you‘ve got, and nothing can stop this orgasm from building.

And with one last thrust, you can't hold back anymore. Buried deep, your release explodes into Minju, sending your seed shooting deep into her asshole as you fill her up to the brim with these endless spurts. Her desperate mewls escalate as her ass, this perfect, tight warmth milks your throbbing cock until your entire body shakes with pleasure, draining your entire heavy load into her tight little hole.

You savor this feeling, remaining balls deep into her ass, riding this high for as long as it’ll linger. You're breathless and panting when your grip eases, guiding Minju down as she topples onto her back, pressed up against your chest while your cock slips out of her ruined hole. Your thick seed oozes right out of that tight ass, dripping between her cheeks and leaking out onto your stomach, a beautiful mess of creamy white.

"Still had so much inside you," Minju gasps out, barely able to move a muscle after your merciless pounding. Her entire body stays limp on you, a satisfied wreck with cum still trickling out her ruined, gaped asshole. "I knew you would love my ass." 

“Best thing I’ve ever been inside in.” 

Neither of you has the will to move, staying like this just to catch a breath for a little bit longer, until she rolls off and shifts onto her side, tucking herself into your chest. Minju gives that smile of hers, the one where she's content that you enjoy her as much as you do. "I don't think I can walk out of here... "

"Then don't. You look good just where you are," you reply, glancing at Minju, who lets out a tired laugh at what an utter mess you both are. It's almost a guarantee that she’ll share your bed every night after you’ve made a mess inside her. She spends more nights with you than in her own bed, sleeping next to you, limbs tangled together under the covers. 

Other times, after a quickie before bed, Minju will keep you inside her, too tired to do anything but fall asleep in your arms with no urge to move an inch until the next day. It’s a nice tender moment through all this lust, the realization that she’s more than some mindless fuck whenever you need release. 

Maybe this arrangement has shifted into something more. 

And maybe you’ve really taken a liking to Minju. 

✦ ✦

“Yeah, it’s really nice here,” Minju says on the phone in her favorite pink pajamas during a video call from a friend. The TV plays low in the background as she gets comfortable all sprawled out on the couch, playing off the fact that she's been living at your place for nearly a month now. 

This temporary thing was supposed to be just that—Minju staying only until she could afford a place on her own, has now spiraled into something beyond that. Several weeks later, here she still is, wearing your oversized shirts to bed, shampoo and body wash occupying a lasting residence in your shower, and of course, her own toothbrush next to yours. 

And neither one of you is planning to change that.

Minju’s a near permanent addition to your household. While she's picked up some temp work to keep her bank account from reaching zero, you wouldn't exactly call her employed. Though that matters little; even if she doesn’t help out financially, she contributes in much better ways. 

"Hey! No, it’s not like that. No, I don’t, but I help cook, I clean, and I—“ Minju says in this exasperated tone when you join her on the couch. Cheeks growing red, she stays on the defensive, trying to starve off this teasing on the other end that you're attempting not to eavesdrop on.

"No, not like a maid. It's not—no, he isn't making me. Yuri-ya! I said we aren't together!” Minju almost forgets that you're sitting right next to her, remaining just as loud and whiny as she presses her knees into her chest, desperate to defend herself. 

Clearly, this isn’t a conversation you’re supposed to be a part of, so you should probably excuse yourself—but when you attempt just that, Minju pushes you back down with a bare foot from where you were rising, insisting you stay right where you are. 

"It isn't like that at all!" Minju pouts, and the camera captures every cute little flustered expression that makes her friend cackle. There isn't an ounce of persuasion behind those words as her friend shares in this same amusement with you, face growing more flustered by the second. Still, she remains steadfast to deny these accusations, holding you hostage to listen in by the pressure from her heel digging into your leg, pinning you there to hear these hearty giggles at Minju's expense.

You think you like this friend already. 

Minju is clearly more stubborn than she lets on when it comes to these matters, because Yuri refuses to back down. And well, if she wants you here, then you're more than willing to stick around—but you're not going to stay idle. 

"Okay, maybe once. But that was it. I swear," Minju defends, even if it's an obvious lie, and Yuri calls her bluff as her laughter continues from the other side. She's backed the poor girl into a corner, and you're somehow working together with this person that you've never met, all to make your mutual friend as bashful as she can possibly get. 

When Minju's bare feet land on your lap, it sparks an idea. Your thumb presses into the sensitive arch of her foot, massaging the targeted area with care, causing her eyes to plead not to escalate. 

"You've definitely hooked up more than once," Yuri insists, and you're unable to hide a smirk to see that you're on the same page. "There's no way it didn't happen again."

Minju’s got this ticklish spot that you once found by accident, and it’s so easy narrowing it down to send her into an uncontrollable giggle fit. The longer you linger over it, the more she tries to keep her mouth shut, eyes going wide as she panics when Yuri asks what's so funny. 

That's the opportunity for the killing blow as you press hard into the pads of her feet with both thumbs, overwhelming her as she struggles not to burst into laughter, which Yuri only sees as confirmation that she's right. 

"I knew it!" 

"S-seriously, nothing happened. Don't get the wrong idea…“

Minju’s never been a great liar, and it doesn’t help that she can’t hide her flustered reactions on screen. So rather than continue this drip feed of torture, you just spell the entire situation out for Yuri to understand—playing with the waistband of those cute pajamas, your intentions clear as day. 

“Hey, wait—the video is on!” Minju protests in disbelief as you threaten to yank her pants off her hips. But if she really doesn't want this, especially with Yuri there to watch, then all she has to do is say the word and you'll back off. 

"Then feel free to end the call…" 

But no, the truth is, Minju wants this.

Her eyes shift from Yuri back to you, a nervous look on her face—knowing exactly how this'll play out. All it would take is a second for the call to disconnect, one little goodbye, and you can do this privately. But when you work these pajama pants off past Minju’s hips, there's no such thing. Yuri remains right there on the call, watching on camera while you finish the job and strip your roommate below the waist, leaving her half-naked in the middle of this video call. 

There's a darker redness on her face, looking mortified to be exposed so easily in front of her unseen friend. She struggles for words, and you do the same to her upper half, unbuttoning her pajama shirt as you slowly peel it open, tossing it aside to leave this impeccable body entirely bare. 

With this display of her nude beauty, Minju stops any charade of denial the instant you slide a finger inside, and then a deep groan rolls from her lips at having your finger penetrate her in front of another person's eyes. 

"M-maybe it's happened more than a couple of times,” Minju admits, divulging this secret she no longer has the desire to hide. There's no point holding back, not when you're going to have her moaning on camera. 

"A lot more than that…" you say as you tease her tight entrance with another finger before your pants come off, hardness poking at your boxers until you toss them away as well.

"Hey!" Minju says as you spread open her gorgeous pussy with two fingers, exposing that warmth that's ready for you to sink into. "It's n-not a lot."

"Four times yesterday isn't a lot?" 

Minju just tries her best to not completely dissolve on camera at your immediate betrayal—but it’s not like she doesn’t want it either, as she guides the tip of your cock between the heat of her slit, teasing up and down before the inevitable push. 

“I knew it. Come on, no secrets," Yuri says on the other end as Minju lays there obscenely spread, already whining pathetically, when your throbbing cock demands to slip inside her warm, welcoming pussy. 

“Hey, if you’re going to watch—then no talking.” 

"Not another word,“ Yuri promises her, and that silence holds as you sink inside Minju, so deep and hot inside your roommate. 

A soft groan escapes from her the instant she's so deliciously stretched around your cock. With this additional pressure to perform for a new set of eyes, that makes the arousal much more palatable as you bury your full length into that slippery, wet warmth.

"Oh f-fuck, you feel so good," Minju whimpers, eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head. You can't help but bottom out in her cunt as she looks right into the camera, sharing this moment with Yuri who stays true to her word, not interrupting a second. 

All your initial strokes are anything but gentle, and Minju makes no attempt to keep any moans in that make it to the other side of the video call. It’s something so out of the ordinary, this girl that’s usually so timid, so reserved, watching her crumble underneath every deep pump, her folds absolutely dripping with honey to help guide the friction. 

Even so, it’s not quite enough. While this is all great and everything—it could be even better. You’re supposed to be giving Yuri a show, and you might as well give her a good one.

Minju has no complaints, only uninhibited deep moans when you lift her legs up, knees up right by her shoulders as you fold her up in such a vulgar display of her flexibility, plunging more of yourself to wreck this little hole. 

"So deep—fuck, I can feel you so deep in me,” she mutters out as she takes it all, barely able to hold her phone still in such a vulnerable position, utterly helpless while you're demolishing her tight little pussy with no mercy. You've done this to Minju more times than you can count, this perfect position designed to bottom her out in the easiest way possible—to fuck a massive load right into her pussy in no time. 

"It's so good, please, it's so fucking good—“ Minju becomes nothing more than a whimpering mess, head thrown back against the pillows as you keep pounding into her cunt, thrusting deeper in a rough, erratic pace that's more showing off than anything, and all she can do is keep taking it. 

It's just too easy to fuck Minju like a toy, especially when you've got a show to put on.

"Look at you taking me like this, Minju, oh my god," you groan, watching this warm little hole spread wider and wider around your throbbing cock as it disappears into her depths.

Her cunt feels tighter with each thrust, squeezing your shaft in a slick, unrelenting grip that brings you closer to the edge as she loses any semblance of decency. You don’t let up as she struggles to stay on camera, nearly dropping her phone while trying to hang on through all this ecstasy. 

“Keep going, oh fuck, keep pounding my fucking pussy,” Minju begs, and it's impossible to even focus with how deep her sloppy cunt swallows you back up inside. She lets out all these throaty, helpless moans from the animalistic fucking she's taking, perky tits bouncing from the force of you bottoming her out in front of her friend. 

And again, Yuri plays her part by being a viewer and nothing else. 

Minju, this wet little toy, lets you hammer into her cunt without remorse, and each impact of your heated bodies sends her jolting against the cushions, turning into such a lewd metronome. 

You're close, already so close—all thanks to those eyes of hers, filled with a desperate need to have you shoot your hot cum deep where it belongs. "I'm gonna fucking breed you, Minju—fuck, gonna dump this thick fucking load right in your cunt.”

Minju lets out a long moan of approval, equally on edge from having your shaft thrust right into her slick depths, ready for your balls to empty and pump her full of all your seed. 

“Give me that load, don’t cum anywhere but inside—“ That’s the last thing Minju says before this unavoidable release, face red from being so vulnerable on camera while her legs dangle up in the air, toes curling with every rough pump. 

You're so worked up that it doesn't take anything else but burying your cock into her sopping cunt one final time before you burst, unloading everything your balls have stored up. Your release triggers her own, that peak making her legs tremble in the air, writhing underneath your weight. Both of you let out a collective moan that competes in volume as your combined release gets milked into her womb, spurt after spurt until there's nothing left to empty inside of your roommate. 

Shallow thrusts drag out the pleasure, making sure not a drop of your load isn’t fully deposited inside Minju’s sticky folds until you stay there buried to the hilt. 

While you both pause to catch your breath, there's an unfamiliar satisfied moan of pleasure that you realize comes from Yuri on the other side of the phone call.

“F-fuck,” Minju breathes out, while you still have every inch throbbing inside her delicious warmth. ”Yuri, did you really just get off to this?"

"What? No, of course not," Yuri says, an unconvincing denial of a lie. "Maybe. Did you really expect me not to?"

Minju smiles as best as she can. "I can't blame you. God, there's just so much cum—he dumped his whole load inside me…" she says in smug satisfaction when you reluctantly pull out. 

Her poor little cunt is a wreck, all soaked in her own arousal and yours, this hot load eagerly dripping out onto the couch cushions while just laying there spread in such an obscene way, phone still in her hand, held out to display every detail.

Yuri doesn’t quite know what to say when she sees her friend like this, Minju the innocent angel being fucked absolutely senseless on camera, with a thick, creamy mess that oozes out between her legs.

"So, maybe we've done this a lot," Minju finally confesses to Yuri, who still struggles to respond to all this despite witnessing it moments ago. 

"Maybe?" Yuri replies. 

"Don't act all innocent now." Minju shifts her position on the couch to get a better angle, so the camera can get a good shot of the sticky semen running down her cunt. "You got off to it."

"Maybe. A little bit," Yuri admits, with a low voice shaky in response. "So what if I did?" 

“And maybe I jerk him off when I'm on the phone with you..." 

"Minju!"

With a hand covering her mouth, Minju laughs, unable to hold in her amusement. “You don't have to sound so ashamed. It's just you."

“That doesn't mean I need to hear this!" Yuri responds, the embarrassment coming through in her voice. "Oh my god, I can't believe I was talking to you like normal—while you were doing that? Ah, Minju!"

Minju's smile transforms into a devilish grin, enjoying every second of this like she’s earning revenge for Yuri’s earlier teasing. 

“Doing what, Yuri?"

“I—need to go, talk to you later, Minju!" Yuri stammers out, her cheeks brighter than a tomato. The video call immediately ends, with only Minju's soft laughter remaining in response. Looking at the end call icon on her phone for a moment, Minju sets it to the side on the coffee table, then lays her head back into the pillows.

“It's just you and me again," Minju says in her sweet voice, almost like she’s not the least bit exhausted after the rigorous fucking you've put her through. “What now?"

"Maybe we should clean this couch..." you answer, aware of the mess you and Minju have created all over her legs and the fabric, something that certainly can't be ignored.

"Later," Minju says, as if she could even care about that—at least for now. "Right now I need a shower. A nice long, hot one. Come join me. It's not fun washing off all by myself..."

Yet once again, neither of you make it to the shower. 

You follow her right into her bedroom, into the bedsheets that are still warm from earlier today. She doesn't have a chance to clean herself up, still dripping down her thighs when she pins you down into those same bedsheets and has you deep inside her in no time.

“Round two,” Minju says, as if it's not even a question, like this is how it’s going to go for the rest of the night.

“Minmin—wait. Give a guy a moment, fuck."

"No time to rest," she says, with another wicked grin on her face, and you're not used to being on the other end of this. You're the one that keeps the ecstasy going, the one that always makes the first move. This girl, she’s never been so forward like this before, not in the way she takes complete control, so shameless to get what she wants. Certainly not in the way that she grabs your arms and pins your wrists over your head with strength that you didn't realize she was capable of.

"I see why you like using me so much." 

Minju holds you down so tight that you can't even fight this. You're at her mercy now, pinned right under her in this vulnerable state with the weight of her body pressing into you while you can't help but feel like you’re the one who’s a little plaything.

And honestly, you like it.

"I get it now,” Minju purrs while you stay right under her control, a finger caressing the outline of your jaw. She has you helpless, completely trapped by this lust that's making you ache for more of what Minju's offering. "You know, I found a job. One of my friends recommended me, Hyewon. I think you’ve met her before. And it pays well. I'll be able to finally support myself. But you'll let me still stay here, won't you?" 

"Of course, Minju. You know I wouldn't—"

"Good," she says, cutting you off as if there's not any chance of rejection. "But I won't be around in the afternoon like before." 

Minju trails a finger right down the center of your chest, tracing circles along your abdomen. "So that means I'm going to need my fix every morning. And maybe even before I go to work, when I come to wake you up for me."

You've never seen Minju like this, so brazen with her desires as she tilts your chin up and makes you face her directly. 

"And as soon as I get home, I'm just going to jump on your cock for hours, until your balls overflow my little pussy again and again. How does that sound?"

"That—that sounds—"

"Great. It's settled then." Minju gives you the cutest smile as she kisses her way down your neck, lips lingering around your collarbone as she nibbles gently on the skin, leaving her mark. 

"Maybe it's a lot of fun being used by you. But maybe it's even better to use you, right?"

Biting her lip, she slides off your shaft that's still glistening in the mix of her mess and yours, leaving it throbbing in the air. "Oh my god, your poor cock. So fucking hard. And there's nothing you can do about it, huh? It must be torture for you. All this build up inside and nothing to take it out on."

"Minmin—"

"Now I understand—it’s so much fun to fuck you like a toy," Minju interrupts, right as she slaps your cock with her palm to watch you wince in response from how sensitive you are, doing it over and over again, these utterly relentless smacks that make every part of you quiver. 

"What's the matter? Don't wanna cum again?" 

Without waiting for a response, she slams back down on you, taking you to the hilt in one easy, fluid motion that doesn't leave you without her warmth for long. Even as spent as you are, Minju rides this aching cock of yours like it's the first time you've been inside her today.

"You’ve got my greedy little cunt addicted. I can't live without you filling me with this hot cum every single day. How many more times can I get you to breed me today? Three? Four? Maybe five?"

"Jesus, Minmin, please—" You groan at the thought. As much as you love finishing inside Minju, there's no way you'll be able to survive that—you're exhausted after this round and your body hasn’t gotten anywhere close to recovering. But she just carelessly continues, head thrown back in bliss as she fucks herself on you, spreading her walls that still drip with your load, and yet so needy to have another thick one fill her up to the brim once more.

"I can't wait to find out. You're not going to run out of cum, are you? No, I don't think your balls could do that. They're always so full, just for me, right? Maybe we'll have to keep going until we make sure."

You don't think your poor cock can stand that, but there's nothing to do but watch helplessly while Minju bounces on top of you, using you as nothing more than a toy—a nice hard cock that she can just ride into ecstasy over and over again.

And maybe you'll allow her to do just that.

---

No, I didn't finish writing this fic the day before realizing her birthday, shut up, this was definitely planned all along.

#BreedMinju

[yelenasdiary]

Request for the little au c: little reader is 6 and gets all turned around while wanda is out grocery shopping with her. Little reader does what momma told her to do when she gets lost and goes to find a grown up to help her find Wandie but the grown up tries to kidnap her? Wanda to the rescue! Big bonding moment?

Big Bad Wolf

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda picks you up from school and has to make a stop at the store on the way home. 

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of near Kidnapping | 1.5K

AC: Thank you for sending this, poor reader just did as they were told haha! I hope you enjoy! x

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Hand in hand, Wanda led the two of you into the grocery store. The same store you and your mother, Natasha often would go to. You felt a little sad that you’d been at school all day and had only seen your mom for breakfast before she dropped you off. Wanda assured you that your mom would be home before dinner and had a surprise for you when she would finish work. So, to help cheer you up, Wanda asked what you would like for dinner and to no surprise, you asked if you could make home-made pizzas. 

“Wanda, can I go look at the plushies?” You asked, trying to drag Wanda towards the aisle where the cheap toys were. You always loved to see if there was any new plushies to add to your growing collection. 

“In a minute love” Wanda replied with a light chuckle as she pulled a shopping cart out with her free hand, “do you want to sit in the cart today?” She asked but you shook your head. “Okay but make sure you either hold my hand or the cart” Wanda reminds you before you can run off to the toy section. Your small hand latched onto the metal cart as Wanda began to push it into the direction of the vegetables, checking her shopping list on her phone that she had pulled together quickly in the carpark. 

“What is first on the list?” You asked, looking up at the brunette. 

“We need some bell peppers” Wanda replied, smiling softly. As soon as the red and green bell peppers caught your eyes, you ran towards them. “Found them!” You called out to her as she followed behind you, pushing the cart. “Good job!” Wanda praised before she picked up a pre-packed set of three. “What’s next?” You asked, eager to get to the toy aisle. Wanda looked down at the notes app on her phone, “uhh, we need an onion” she replied while she read the next couple of items listed. 

You patiently followed the cart's wheels as Wanda pushed it gently towards the onions, Wanda could see your eyes wandering towards the stuffed toys. “Now we need some shredded cheese” Wanda spoke after she placed an onion into the cart.

After grabbing the shredded cheese, the next item was tomato paste which just happened to be next to the toy aisle. Wanda was just about to turn the corner when she stopped in her tracks. When you looked up, you saw Aunty Pepper with a basket in her hand. The two adults smiled at one another before they started small talking. 

“Wanda, can I please go look at the plushies?” You begged, Wanda looked down at you and chuckled, “okay, but don’t go anywhere else, okay?” She replied. You nodded with a smile on your lips before you raced off down the aisle where your eyes were met with the many different plushies. 

You took a few moments, digging around the pile of toys before you finally found one that you fell in love with instantly, a lion plushie with an extra soft and fluffy main. This was the one, you knew you couldn’t leave your new friend behind.

On your heels, you turned and ran back to the end of the aisle where Wanda was, well, last was. You turned around in a circle, your eyes searching for Wanda, but you couldn’t see her. Suddenly you felt alone and soon enough a scared feeling started to settle in. You held the lion plushie a little tighter when you remembered what your mom would always tell you.

“If you ever get lost, go find an adult worker and ask them to help you, okay? Can you remember that for me?” 

Your mother's voice ran through your mind, you couldn’t tell who worked here and who didn’t, so you walked up to the first adult in sight. 

“E-excuse me, c-can you please help me? I’m lost” you asked, looking up at the stranger with watery eyes. 

The stranger kneeled down, “well that’s a shame, isn’t it? Do you know what your mommy was wearing?” He asked. You shook your head, “my mommy isn’t here” you corrected him. “Who are you here with? Your daddy?” He asked. You shook your head once more, “I don’t have a daddy, I am here with Wanda but I can’t find her” you replied. 

The blonde haired man with green eyes looked friendly enough to help you as he stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, “come with me, I’m sure she’s outside looking for you” he said. He didn’t have a cart with him or a basket, he just had a loaf of bread in one hand. You clenched the plushie in your arms a little tighter as the man led you towards the check out. 

“Just the bread and the toy?” The woman behind the counter asked, the man nodded. He let go of your shoulder to pull out his wallet and pay for the two items before the woman smiled softly at him and told you both to have a good day. He handed you the lion plushie and placed his hand on your shoulder once more, this time his grip felt a little tighter than before. 

You were a foot out the sliding doors before you heard Wanda shout your name. You looked over your shoulder and saw Wanda running towards you. 

“DON’T LET HIM GO!” Wanda yelled as security looked over towards the door. You wiggled free of the stranger’s grip and ran towards Wanda, crashing into her arms. “Sweetheart, are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asked you. You weren’t sure why she was in such a panic, “I’m okay Wanda” you smiled softly, “this man was helping me. He said you were outside looking for me” you added. 

“Is there a problem here?” The security asked, blocking the door from the unnamed man to leave. Wanda looked up at him and saw the panic in his eyes before her mind flashed with the image of his intentions. “Yes!” She replied, “he tried to kidnap her!” Wanda added, making you confused. 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you come with me” the security guard turned his attention to the stranger. “This is all just a misunderstanding” he said. 

“Then you should have no problem coming with me” 

You felt Wanda hug you tighter while you watched the security guy take the stranger who you thought was kind to the back of the store. Wanda gently placed you back on your feet, “Wanda, why did you get that man in trouble?” You asked her. Wanda felt her heart melt at your innocents, but she knew this would be something Natasha would have to explain to you in better terms. 

“Honey, did your mommy ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” She asked you. 

“Yes, but she told me if I ever get lost that I need to find an adult who works here and ask for help” you replied, looking into Wanda’s eyes, “I couldn’t find a worker” you added as Wanda gently brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear, “did I do something wrong?” You asked. 

Wanda shook her head, “no darling, you did the right thing, but that man didn’t do the right thing” 

You could only nod at her words, unsure of what they meant. “How about we go home and order a pizza tonight?” Wanda asked. 

“Was he a big bad wolf?” You asked Wanda, ignoring her question. Natasha must’ve told you something, Wanda was sure of that given the words that left your lips. She nodded softly, “yes darling, he was” 

Without a second thought, you wrapped your small arms around Wanda and hugged her tightly, “I want to go home please” you said softly.

----

Like Wanda told you when she picked you up from school, your mother came home just before dinner. She was just in time, kicking her shoes off as the pizza delivery knocked on the door. 

“Delivery?” Natasha questioned, “I thought we were doing home-made pizzas?” She added. 

“We were at the store getting stuff but then a big bad wolf tried to take me outside” you answered, giving your mother an almost heart attack. “What?!” She said in a panic before scooping you up in her arms instantly, “are you okay? Did they hurt you?” She asked. You shook your head, “no mommy, Wanda saved me” you smiled softly while Wanda paid for the pizza. 

“I’ll explain it to you after dinner” Wanda assured the redhead who held you close. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there baby” your mother spoke softly, not wanting to let you go. “I’m okay mommy, can we please eat now?” You asked as if nothing in the world bothered you. Nat slowly let you go, placing you back on your feed while her eyes checked you over, once she was sure you didn’t have any injuries she placed a kiss on the top of your head, “let’s eat” she said softly.

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[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart

pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au

word count: 1.9k

rating: 18+

warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)

summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.

authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)

PART 1 | part 2

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.

you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.

it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.

after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.

you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.

jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.

you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.

"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.

he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.

"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.

the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.

the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.

"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.

"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.

you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.

"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.

"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.

"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.

"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.

"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.

suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.

you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.

jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.

dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.

you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.

thats her.

thats the girl who saved you outside.

the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.

the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.

you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.

...5

...4

...3

...2

as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Bachira Meguru assuming he's unlovable.

Being called a monster for their whole childhood really makes a mark on a person's life and self-esteem. But for Bachira, it was unavoidable.

At first, he tried to ignore the mean comments and pretend he didn't hear them. Maybe that would make the loneliness go away. Maybe it would make the problems disappear.

"He's a freak!"

"Eww, don't get too close to Bachira! You'll get lice!!"

"He's stinky"

He heard the whispers. He just used to pretend he didn't. For both his and the children's sake. So he could pretend he was normal. At least for a while.

And, sometimes, even parents, grown-ass adults, called him weird. Shouldn't they set an example for their kids? They tell them: "Don't judge other people! You never know what they're going through!", but are always the first to talk shit about someone, even if said someone is a little kid.

"Poor kid. It's probably the parents' fault."

"He says he sees a 'monster'! He's probably schizophrenic."

"My son is afraid of him. Specially when he's playing soccer. He said he's very scary"

He tried to ignore them. He really did. He tried to smile through it all and treat people the same way he always had nevertheless: with respect. Because crying would make his problems real. He didn't want them to be real. And he was doing a good job at it! But one faithful day, he snapped. The final nail in the coffin.

"When I grow up, I want to be a football player, just like Zico!" 11 year old Bachira said, showing the whole class a drawing of him, Zico and his monster playing soccer together. His smile was as bright and blinding as ever, specially because he was talking about his passion: soccer. He loved it so much. It helped him escape the harsh reality for a while.

The class went silent. They used to think Bachira was weird, to put it slightly, but this? It just made him even more weird! They all knew that he could never be a football player. He was an outcast. A freak. He was a monster. And monsters couldn't live with humans. Nobody wanted a monster on their team.

And so, instead of clapping like they did with the other kids' drawings, the class started to laugh. It started out quiet, but later it turned into a full, loud laugh. All of them. And Bachira always dreamed of making everyone there laugh, but not like this. They weren't laughing with him or because of him, they were laughing at him.

"Uh? What's happening, miss?" He asked the teacher, confused and on the verge of crying. He couldn't cry here. Not in front of them, please. That would be another thing for them to laugh at.

He swears on his life that he heard the teacher laugh a little, before the adult crouched down to match his size, grabbed his drawing and put it on his desk, while the other kids' drawings were being stuck to the board with tape. And then, he heard one of the worst sentences he ever heard in his life. One that he knew would definitely keep him awake at night:

"Meguru, being a football player is too hard for you. Why don't you settle for something more real and reachable? Like a doctor or a lawyer?"

He didn't understand. Some kids here wanted to be astronauts, others wanted to be models. Hell, one wanted to be a dinosaur babysitter. And their drawings were hanging on the wall, like they were going to be achieved. Bachira felt like no one believed in him. Like he was being put aside.

He then realized the problem wasn't what he wanted to do. It was him. Anyone could be a football player, but he couldn't. Because he was a monster. He was different from others.

And so, the tears began to fall. One by one, first from his left away and then from his right eye. His vision began to blurry. Left eye, right eye. Left, right, left right. Kids laughing, teacher laughing. His drawing on the desk. Left, right. Left right. He couldn't even see his own hands anymore from how blurred his vision was. He looked to his side. Left, right. The door. His escape. He needed to leave.

So, without second thought, Bachira ran towards the door. He couldn't care less for the teacher calling his name. He wouldn't come looking for him anyway. Nobody would. Nobody cared enough to do it.

He sat behind a tree, protected by it's shadow. He continued to cry. Hard. He put his hands in his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling, but he couldn't. He needed to let it all out. He just wished he had someone by his side during his breakdown. He really wanted a shoulder to rely on.

"Hey"

Maybe he was, indeed, schizophrenic. Because, the moment he looked up, he saw a girl he swore was too pretty to be real. The sunset made her have an angelic glow, and the wind made her hair flow just the right way. Her face was like a greek statuate, and he swore he could hear a soothing symphony playing in the background when he met her eyes: they were the most beautiful color he had ever seen, and he could imagine himself being lost and found in them. She was just too pretty. Too pretty to be here for him. And so, he managed to stop crying for a while and said, between sniffs:

"Did you lose a bet?"

The way your face contorted was almost comic.

"What?"

"Did someone pay you to come here? Where are the cameras? And how much was it?"

"I didn't lose any bet" you said, frowning. "I came here to check on you because I wanted to. I don't get why everyone laughed at you. Your dream is not stupid. Nobody's dream is."

"Even Richard's? He said he wants to be a dinossaur nanny" he said before he even thought about it. He then widened his eyes, because what if you were Richard's friend? What if you hated him now because he said something bad about your friend? What if he already screwed everything up? What if...

"Okay, you win. That one's actually stupid." You laughed. He made you laugh. This time, someone was laughing because of him. He felt like he was capable of everything at that moment. Your laugh was a sweet, infecting, honey-like melody. It made him wanna laugh too. He didn't realize it, but he had already stopped crying, and was now just staring at you with big, blown and unwavering eyes. His mouth slightly parted, like he was studying you and comitting everything about you to memory. Almost as if you were indeed an ilusion, and would disappear the second he blinked. He couldn't believe you were real. You were real, and you were talking to him.

After a while, you stopped laughing and finally noticed his intense staring. Suddenly bashful, your cheeks turned a bright red.

"I-I just want you to know that you shouldn't be ashamed of your dream. I think- no, I'm sure you can achieve it. You just have to work hard for it. I-I've seen you playing sometimes, and it's honestly amazing how focused you are. Bachira, I want to be your friend. That's it, if you'll let me-"

He hugged you. Hard. If it was any other time, he would have been afraid of scaring you off with the sudden hug, but he couldn't care less right now. He needed this. He needed a friend. You were just what he needed. You were perfect.

He started to cry again. This time, the first tear came out of his right eye. Right, left. His vision was getting blurred from how hard he was smiling. Right, left. Right, left. Your arms hugging him back. Right, left. The sound of the school bell, signalizing the end of the school day. People would see you and him hugging and you would probably be called weird by them for being next to him, but you still didn't break the hug. Right, left.

He didn't want to escape like he did during the class incident. No. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted time to stop, to be in your arms for eternity. He didn't want to pull away. He finally made a friend. You were his first friend.

Bachira Meguru used to think he was unlovable, but you proved him wrong. You proved he could, in fact, be loved. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a freak. He was Bachira Meguru. Your best friend. And he wore that title with pride. Later on, he had the honour to be called your boyfriend, and he was even prouder of that one.

He used to think he would never find happiness. That's why, the moment the ref blew the whistle signalizing the end of Japan U-20 against Blue Lock eleven match and securing Blue Lock's victory, he couldn't think of anything else besides his girl. He ran across the field to you. Because you were like a magnet. He couldn't be apart from you, or else it felt like the whole earth would explode. He was yours and you were his. You both were meant to be.

"You did it! I love you, Meguru!"

He laughed. A pretty, genuine laugh followed by a couple of tears, beginning from his right eye, of course. His mother was recording behind you both, the blue lock team was smirking and whistling at the sight of you two and the television was streaming the moment for the whole world to see. But neither of you cared about the extra eyes. You were the only ones on the world. You always made him feel like that, and he hopes he makes you feel that way, too.

"I love you so much. Thank you."

Thank you for being with me. Thank you for being there. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for accepting the title of being my girlfriend proudly. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything. Thank you.

He then lifted you and spun you in the air, smiling hard. He brought your lips closer and then kissed you. A kiss full of emotion and love. So much love: raw and pure.

You proved he wasn't just lovable. He was also capable of loving. And there's nothing prettier than loving someone.

Bachira Meguru was lovable, and you made sure to show him that. You loved him, and he would do everything to keep it that way forever.

~A/N: there's a "saying" that says that if you're crying and the first tear is from the left eye, you're crying from sadness. If the first tear comes out of the right eye, they're happy tears!!

Masterlist

[just-jordie-things]

I know he's not your favorite but consider... #73 with Itadori... short reader has a crush on him but is too afraid to confess bc she knows he likes tall girls lol I think this could be super cute

kiss prompt 73: height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

a/n: first time writing for itadori !!! ___

if you had to think about it, you'd had a crush on itadori yuuji since the day you met him.

after getting a call from megumi where he'd begrudgingly asked for your help tracking down a cursed tool that some spooky-loving school club had snatched before he could, you hadn't expected things to take the turn they did.

as soon as you'd run into the pink haired boy, it was like a daze took hold of you. megumi honestly could have believe you'd been poisoned with how you stammered over your words and moved awkwardly. he'd never seen you so out of it when exorcizing curses. you were sloppy, defensive maneuvers delayed, offensive maneuvers... megumi would have gotten the job done better when he was ten, so, let's just leave it at that.

but nothing would have stopped itadori from eating that finger, and, well, we all know what happens from there.

you were surprised with how quickly he adapted to an entire world he'd never known the existence of. he was an avid learner, eager to train, eager to educate himself. he was always asking you questions that megumi found silly having grown up in jujutsu society, but you'd been happy to talk to him for hours about the ins and outs of it all. that was how your friendship began to blossom, you supposed.

it was easy to crush on yuuji. he was kind, handsome, silly, and had a warm energy about him that just drew you to him like a moth to a flame. even with your harbored feelings for him, being around him was easy, and comfortable. you'd only known him a few months, but the way he treated you made you feel like you'd been close friends for years.

however, due to how close you'd gotten, you were well aware that you were not his type. he'd joked a few times about how he liked tall girls like jennifer lawrence, and you didn't exactly meet that standard.

after he'd casually let that information slip, you found yourself comparing the height difference between you two more often. it was no shock that he was taller than you, you could remember the first time you'd met him you'd tilted your head back to stare up at him- your eyes had been blown wide like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. he'd just leapt through a window like it was nothing and fought alongside you like his entire reality hadn't just flipped upside down- but now that he'd made his ideal type clear, you'd frown when it would dawn on you that you were barely even an average height.

you'd stand up a little straighter when you were standing before him, but even still you'd tilt your chin so you could look at him properly. he'd noticed the sour expression on you a few times, but you always brushed it off as something else. it felt sort of childish to tell him that you were upset for not being taller.

it's one afternoon that you're out shopping with the other first years that you finally tell him the truth. not that you'd planned to, of course, you were ready to take this secret to the grave.

but you're wandering around with yuuji, half avoiding nobara who was on a rampage and throwing armfuls of clothes at megumi, and half looking at the display of silly hats. some of them were cute, but most of them were pokemon themed, or beanies with funny saying.

yuuji had excitedly picked up a fluffy pikachu hat, complete with the tall ears, and fluffy yellow flaps that hung down your face, ending in paw shaped pockets that you could stick your hands into. he was grinning as he turned to you to tug the hat over your head. you had half a mind to scold him for ruining what was a good hair day, but you keep it to yourself. he looked too happy to have you model the accessory for him.

and you'd thought it was cute, at first. then you take note of how he has to stoop over to reach your level in order to properly adjust the dorky hat, and you're made aware again of how short you are in comparison to him. of how small in general you are compared to him. his tall stature complete with broad shoulders and biceps that were starting to display how hard he'd been training himself- as appealing as he was to look at, you're frowning due to your own self pity.

and when he's done playing with the droopy ears on top of your head and sees the look on your face, he's frowning, too.

"what's wrong?" he asks, quietly, worriedly, like a good friend. "you don't hate pikachu, do you?"

it makes you laugh, even just a little bit, and yuuji gives you a small smile in relief that his joke worked to ease your sad expression, even just a little bit.

"no, it's not pikachu," you huff, pulling the hat off your head and placing it carefully back on the mannequin. "i'm just short"

his brow furrows, assuming at first that he'd heard you wrong, but when you don't say anything else and give him an awkward shrug, he realizes you're serious.

"so?" he asks, chuckling to himself. "what's so bad about that?"

you avoid his gaze while you pretend to take interest in the other hats on the wall, despite you not being a hat person, which he knows.

"it's pretty dumb" you say, running your fingers over a fluffy sylveon cap that was similar to the pikachu one.

"try me" yuuji smiles at you, leaning into the display to catch your attention again. his smile reaches his eyes, and he seems to genuinely hopeful to ease your foolish concern, that you find yourself giving in.

"promise not to laugh at me?" you mutter.

he raises a hand to his chest, drawing an x over his heart before raising his palms towards you in silent promise. you crack a smile at how serious he's taking this.

you take a deep breath before confessing the thought that's been plaguing your mind for the last few weeks.

"i know you like tall girls," you say, staring straight ahead at the sylveon hat like it had been the object of your desire for our entire life. "and i know i'm not even close to being called tall,"

yuuji blinks a few times, his brows raising as he processes this information.

you were upset because you didn't consider yourself his type? did he understand that right? so this was because... you wanted to be his type?

"well, maybe a fifth grader would think i'm tall," you began to mumble to yourself. "but that doesn't really make me feel better-"

"you think you wouldn't be my type because you're so short?" he cuts off your rambling, and she turns to him with a bewildered expression.

"well you don't have to put it like that," you mumble with a furrowed brow. "kinda makes me feel worse-"

"(y/n), i promised i wouldn't laugh," he cuts you off again, stepping forward to wrap his hands around your shoulders. "but that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard!"

you frown up at him, not comforted at all at his attempts to make you feel better.

"you're really bad at this" you tell him, and he begins to break his promise as a few giggles escape through his toothy grin.

"are you kidding?" he teases. "you're the cutest person i've ever met!" he reaches his hands up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together playfully. "i don't want you to be any taller, i like you just the way you are!"

your face begins to heat up under his touch, and with his hold on you, you have no choice but to stare back at him, only making your blush burn hotter.

"you are my type, even as a tiny lil' tater tot," he says, and despite his laughter, you can tell he's being completely genuine. you can see it in the shine in his eyes as he stares at you. "that doesn't matter. what matters if you're a really awesome fucking person, and a badass"

the knot between your brows begins to relax and your lips curl into a smile at his sweet words.

"you're not just saying that?" you ask quietly, just to be sure he wasn't spewing out bullshit just to make you feel better.

yuuji laughs at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pure joy. he doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to say anything else.

instead he leans over you, bending almost dramatically to reach your short stature in order to press his lips against yours. it's a short kiss, but it's sweet, gentle, warm- all things yuuji.

when he pulls away, before he can stand back up properly, you're shooting up to the tips of your toes, your hands flying towards his shoulders for balance as you return his kiss. it's fast, eager, curious- all things you. he can't help but smile against your lips as he drops a hand from your face so he can wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you close.

you both distantly hear a harumph! from a passerby in the shop, having forgotten you were still in public. you pull away with sheepish smiles and pink cheeks.

"you are short though" he tells you point blank.

"i know, yuuji" you huff.

"but i like it" he says proudly, and you turn away so he won't see how your blush is spreading down your neck.

you still notice the significant difference in your height often, but it's mostly due to yuuji pointing it out every time he bends over to kiss you from there on out.

___

a/n: i love him sm it's criminal that i haven't written for him :'( xoxo ~ jordie