#their dad wanted to take a few pictures before they left the house

[simmingonthelow]

You ask your brother to dress up for once, and this is the best you get......😒😪

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[sushirrrry]

wrangled

a harry styles one-shot. 14k words. cw: age-gap, sexual content, spitting, spanking, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation kink, coarse language, dom/sub kink

Forte Ranch.

Kettle Falls, Washington.

June Forte is the 24 year old daughter of Travis Forte– the owner of the largest bison ranch in eastern Washington. When she returned home from college, her wishes of becoming a teacher in the area land her with a few different jobs– one that also includes the family business.

It's not lost on her that when she starts noticing that a superbly handsome, older ranch-hand who introduces himself in a deep-posh accent as Harry Styles, that she seems to lose a bit of focus on the picture: make enough money to leave Kettle Falls for good.

But, the older man seems to keep running into her no matter how many times she tries to leave. Maybe, she recognizes, that it isn't a coincidence.

When Harry and June are one day left alone, the tensions are higher than ever. Once June gets a taste, her intuition starts to let her know that maybe seeing the dimples underneath the brim of the Stetson is easier to lean into rather than run from.

He's not letting her run away that easy.

"Goddamnit, Fury– let's go!"

She pulled at the lead; the rope pulled at her hands a bit when the horse continued to stand his ground, obviously more powerful than her.

A quick sigh, a puff of air to move some of the hair off of her face. June couldn't help but groan at the horse's stubbornness that kept him inside the confines of his stall.

She had a lesson in an hour now. Not that it would have been a huge deal— the family that she taught for were very laid back, but her need to follow a schedule made Fury's outburst quite annoying as it would take a bit of time to get him out now.

The horse-riding lessons that she had been giving were supplementing the cash flow through the summer. Next year, she would be starting a position as a teacher at one of the local schools in the area. June had gone to school in Seattle; it was the biggest culture shock for her when she arrived in the big city.

From growing up on the ranch to moving to the big city with just what she could fit in her dad's pick-up–she had loved every moment of it. She loved seeing the way that the traffic built up everywhere in the early mornings, the honking horns, the sleepy travelers in the coffee shops every morning.

It was a learning experience that she had been blessed with. But, in reality, her heart stayed in the eastern mountains; the smell of the fresh air every morning gave her such a high that she hadn't been expecting to miss with her whole heart.

Living on this ranch, in this small town, had been in her heart this whole time. She hadn't recognized how much of her she still had to learn.

When you're young, you want so bad to leave. Then, you see the rest of the world, and you find home so much more appealing. It feels secure, it feels like a place that you can come back to when you're finished exploring.

It's a place to relax. A place to replenish. A place to house your soul.

Now, she say her fighting with her horse who seemed to have the upper-hand.

"Fury, if you don't come on," She rubbed the horse's nose, giving him a look as he tilted up his head quickly. "You're being so stub—"

"Might wanna give him something to entice him."

The sound behind her makes June jump with a fright, a gasp escaping as she had been lost in her own world. There's a man standing on the opposite side of her now, unlocking the gate of the horse stall. She hadn't noticed him before, so she wondered how long he had been standing there watching her struggle with the ropes her hands. 

A chestnut mare stands, grunts softly in front of him as he looks back at her. June recognized the man, which didn't seem to happen often. The farm has lots of people coming through, many stay for weeks– months, maybe. The summer months are preparing for the winter; she knew that a lot more came around at this time of the year.

But she recognized him.

There wasn't a person who wouldn't.

The man's accent threw her for a moment– not realizing if she had heard him speak before. She mustn't have, or she'd know the low drawl of a foreign tongue.

But there's a few certain men that have been around for a bit. This man, in particular, she thought. He wears his hair longer, a bit down on his ears. He pushes it back into his Stetson, the chocolate curls have grown every time she sees him closer.

He has a soft scruff along his jawline that was really only visible up close; a white tank top that has seen better days when it was a pure white on the rack. June lets her eyes wander for a moment before she sees that he notices, a hint of pink painting her cheeks as she watches that he seems to go on about his day without another word.

Not to mention: if you stared at him in the heat of the eastern Washington sun, it was entirely too close to see the shade of green that his eyes shone. They practically became translucent at how luminous they became.

June was a bit taken; her hands adjust on the lead as she watched the man throw a bridle over the large mare's nose. He clicked his tongue to get her to follow, the mare following him out of the stall easily. June watched at how easy it was; she knew Fury was a bit hard-headed to begin with, so it couldn't have been that easy no matter what he had said to her.

As the man started walking away just a bit, Fury took a step forward which helped June aid him out of the stall. It threw her for a moment, her body moving forward to help lead the horse where he needed. He followed, though a bit slowly as he shook his head when she pulled in the lead towards the saddling. 

"See, told you," The man spoke once again, nodding his head a bit towards his mare, "Men are always enticed by pretty ladies."

He had taken the saddle off of the stand, throwing it over the mare's back. June's eyes stared at the way his muscles popped through the sleeveless shirt, pushing the heavy riding saddle up further on the horses back.

"Going for a ride?" The man spoke again, watching as June hooked Fury up to stand so that he was secured. June hadn't spoken yet, feeling her voice caught in her throat over the way that he had been a bit chatty with her.  Her eyes drifted over to him, knowing he had been talking to her again which elicited a response.

She bit her lip, pulling up on the loops of her jeans that hugged around the curve of her hips.

"No, I teach, actually." June commented, brushing down Fury's neck before pushing some of his mane out of his eyes.

The horse chewed a bit, making her smile as his lips tried to nip at her arm. "Have a lesson soon. He's the best with kids, gives them a hard time but it's good for them to learn how to be a bit more assertive. He listens when you're real strict with him, just not well."

"Really all the qualities of a man, huh?" The man smirked; they stood next to each other at the station before June looked over and he had started to move towards her. His hand outreached, his eyes truly on her now as they became closer with each step he took. "Harry Styles."

June swallowed back, her hand moving out towards his as they locked together in a moment. "June Forte. You're a worker here?"

Harry's eyes shift for a moment when he notices the deep blue of her eyes and the familiarity of her generational smile. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes drag over her a moment. June squirms under his vision, her breath halted as he takes his hand away and their touch loosens.

"And this is your ranch, I presume." He speaks, his words standing in the air.

June shrugs her shoulders up as if his comment didn't mean much. "Not mine– well, my family's, so technically will be mine or my siblings someday. My dad's dream was to own it, and I guess now he does. Was my grandads, and my great-grandads. He built it, and it's just a family heirloom now. But yeah– we live up there."

Harry's breath baited for a moment, a small scoff of a chuckle leaving his lips as he moved back towards the mare. The mare stomped on the ground, his hand moving to comfort her outburst.

"Guess I don't need to be flirting with the ranch owner's daughter, then. May be a conflict of interest."

June raised a brow at his words, feeling a hotness come across her neck as she moved to throw the big brush through Fury's chestnut coat. She faced away from him now, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the way he continued to smirk at her.

For the first time in a while, June's sharp tongue felt dull. She didn't know what to say as she felt some hair fall into her face as she managed to push the heavy brush through the horse's coat.

"Never been a huge rule follower, though." He followed up, pulling the reins of the tacked horse; he walked backwards out of the barn with his eyes on June– the shape of her body only let his eyes fall down and around her curves.

A soft chuckle came from her lips as she heard the clicking of his tongue, guiding the mare out. "Easy, cowboy." She called back, in a surprising quip, "My ranch, my rules."

"So now you're the boss?" He quipped, "giving me mixed signals, June." Harry paused for a moment, giving her a moment to comeback.

"Let's just say I'm pretty close to the guy in charge." June tilted her head, "But I'd say that flirting with the boss's daughter isn't in your best interest if you want to stick around."

June watched the man quickly bite his lip as if he was stopping himself from another remark.

"We'll see about that one." He called back, his boots crunching on the gravel once again, his eyes staying on her even when leading the large horse out of the barn. "Might be the opposite effect if I'm lucky."

June bit her lip at the thought of him– wondering if he had seen her before. Her legs adjusted just at the thought of his low, raspy voice. She hasn't heard it before, but now all she could hear was his words in the back of her head.

"Hope you find a four-leaf clover out there, gonna need it." June said back, watching as he moved away, a wink flying back at her.

She huffed, looking at her horse before a shake of her head made her feel a bit dizzy.

Maybe it wasn't the head shake that made her feel that way.

***

The following morning, Fury continued to give June quite a time. He was a stubborn horse, but she knew that he trusted her and vice versa. June never felt that she had a problem with him, he had been her horse for over ten years now.

June grew up with horses, riding and watching them was in her blood. She loved riding and watching people become more comfortable as they rode more. It was a pleasure for her to teach young kids to be comfortable and confident while riding, especially when it taught discipline and hard work.

Nothing about riding horses was easy– she continued to learn that the hard way. It took trust, and lots of effort to make sure that the animal underneath you trusted every part of you. The hardest part was putting your life in their hands. But, it was always worth taking that chance.

He kicked a few times, the young girl that she had for the lesson this morning was mostly scared that she was going to fall off. June reassured her that she would hold his lead, but that she needed to be strong.

"When you're scared, he's going to be scared," June tried to reassure her, watching the young girl— her name was Natasha, she was around eleven. "You have to be in control of him, and he's going to respond to you. But we can end the lesson a bit early if you're feeling some nerves— that's okay, too."

Natasha gave June a look; she was unsure, and June could read all over it. However, Natasha pushed through some of her nerves, which led to June eventually letting go of the reins and letting the girl trot some laps around the outside arena space.

"You got it!" She yelled over, staying on the fence, her eyes lighting up at the girl's excitement over her accomplishments of getting the horse to where she wanted him. "Let's loop around one more time, and then bring it back to the center."

June pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The outside training grounds was a large area of the ranch, covered by trees and small patches of grass. She tucked some hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the messy bun she pulled at the base of her neck.

A small noise caught her attention as she started to make her way to the center of the arena to meet Fury and Natasha. June bit on her lip as she squinted in the early morning sun that was casting over the field down to the bison pasture. The gates had opened, watching the man from earlier in the saddle atop the chestnut mare.

His head turned to check that the smaller bison calves had made their way through to the other side of the fence.

"Shut 'em in!" He yelled, pulling at the reins of his horse before the other ranch-hand pulled at the metal gate on the other side.

The field sat opposite of the smaller training field that had been built for June's benefit; she absolutely loved teaching, loved the elements of getting young riders out on the back of a horse to feel the fresh breeze in their hair. It had been so therapeutic to her growing up when everything felt that it could have fallen apart at any moment— this was her world.

Growing up on the ranch had been a saving grace for her. It was the yin to the yang of the city that she had grown to love. She had never had the opportunity to fall in love with another place like she had with Seattle.

It didn't hurt that these were the kinds of views that she had, either.

June hadn't been paying attention as she heard her name being called; her head whipped around as she watched Fury stomp a few times and start to buck and push the young girl. June watched her expression as she held at the fence, watching the young girl struggle with the large stallion.

"Hold on, Natasha!" June yelled, sitting up on the large fence before she cupped her hands over her mouth, "Pull the reins real hard to the left!"

She could see the fear on the girls face as she tried to brace, tried to do what June had told her to. She wasn't strong enough to manage the horse as her foot slid from the saddle and her body flung to the side and off into the dirt of the ring.

June gasped outwardly with a few curses as she ran towards where the girl was flung off. Fury moved away now that she felt safe enough that she could grab her and move out of the ring. She felt horrible not being to stop it before it started, not reading the language of the horse before it was too late.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" June asked, the young girl sitting up on her elbows as she tried to brush herself off. "You're not hurt, are you? Nothing feels broken?"

She shook her head, the helmet bearing her fall as she seemed to just be a bit more traumatized than hurt. The adrenaline must've been moving through her as they stood up, June helping her as she looked around the ring to notice that the horse had made his way out of the ring through the gate she had opened, ready to lead them out.

"Shit!" June yelled out, her head moving around at an attempt to find the horse that had been trotting away. She tucked the hair behind her ear as she turned to look around.

"I'm so sorry," Natasha started, obviously in shock, "I-I didn't– I got scared."

June turned to the girl, shaking her head profusely. "No, no, sweetie. It's fine– as long as you're okay."

June took Natasha out of the ring, climbing up the fence and over to the grassy knoll. Her hands landed on her hips as she searched around for Fury who had gotten loose.

"Fuck," She whispered under her breath.

She didn't expect him to get so agitated. She hasn't had that happen before, which set her alert on high. Fury was the horse that she trained on, and without him, she couldn't hold onto her lesson schedule.

The next one was in twenty minutes, so she needed to figure out a plan on how to catch him.

The first part of the plan was to find the horse that had seemingly run away and out of the gate. Her attention moved back towards the young girl, who had taken off her helmet and seemed to have calmed down just a bit. She rubbed at her elbow that had a bit of a scratch.

"You head back to barn," She told Natasha, "If you see him, holler really loud for me. I'm going to go to the other fields, see if I can catch him."

The young girl agreed, making her way back down to the barns where her mother had been while she took the lesson. She would tell them what had happened, and to make sure they could catch him if he got around.

June started up towards the bison fields– the ranch handlers had been up there just a few moments prior to the incident, and she may have an idea of where the horse had run to. The property was large, almost three hundred acres of land. But, with the number of trees and wooded miles, it would be harder to catch him than it was with the open spaces.

The Forte ranch was surrounded by mountainous regions, which was good for the bison and the elk that were seemingly farmed in the area. June's family kept bison and yak, which was separate to the ranches out in the southwest. Their ranch was green and grassy, surrounded by lakes and streams with glaciers and chilly mornings.

The summer heat didn't always feel like summer, which was what made the mornings so delightful. It was June's favorite parts about the lifestyle of working outside, she felt like there was so much more to see and so much more to take in. It was her own sense of meditation.

"Hey," June called out to the two men sitting on the fences. "Did you see my horse run by? He threw my rider off and fled, and I didn't really see where he went."

The two men seemingly similar looked at one another before shaking their head, practically ignoring her as they continued to haul a few bales of hay into a truck that was backed up to the fence. "Sorry, hon, no."

June placed her hands in her back pockets before she stared at them for a moment. "Okay, well, he's black. Long white stripe down his nose, kinda pink on the end. His name is Fury, but he doesn't usually respond," She blinked a few times, starting to ramble as she thought for a moment, "Probably why he's being a pain in the ass."

She could tell that the men were seemingly uncaring for her request, so she sniffled out of awkwardness before her boots started to move her to the other end of the field.

A good thirty minutes flew by as she walked along the edges of the property, whistling softly for any sight of where the horse could've gone. The sudden sound of clicking made her head turn towards the wooded area; a strike of fear spooking her as she turned. It wasn't that she feared being on her own, but something about being vulnerable ate away at her.

Her heart instantly dropped as she saw two horses, one ridden and the other being held close by the familiar leather reins. The rider in question familiar as she felt her lips quirk up in a smirk at the look on the man's face. She released the breath she had been holding in.

"Think you're supposed to stay on the horse, not let him run away." The deep voice teased. He had been holding the reins of Fury while riding his own.

"He threw my rider," She told him, "I was trying to make sure that she was okay, and he ran off."

"She was quite young," He commented, obviously seeming a bit worried now. He slowed his horse down, the horse standing in front of June as she went to pet down the mare's nose. It crossed her mind that he had noticed her earlier, possibly been staring. "Was she okay?"

June shrugged, nodding. "No broken bones. Maybe a bit of broken spirit."

"You know what they say," He licked over his lip, "Gotta' get back in the saddle." It was then that a smile broke on his face, which halted her breath at the beauty of it.

She laughed at his dry humor, raising her brows. "They do say that, but I'm going to have to do a bit more training with him. He needs to be better for younger riders."

Harry threw the reins over his horse's head, June caught them in her own grip. She looked back up at him again with a small smile. "I appreciate your help– catching him and all that."

"Pretty good portion of my job," He told her, turning the horse a bit so he could face her better.

June had started to lead the horse back in the direction of where the ring and the barn were before Harry stopped her with his words.

"C'mon, hop on," He told her, shifting in his saddle, "We're almost a mile away. You don't want to have to walk."

June's eyes shifted a bit as she pulled at Fury's lead, walking backwards as she thinks about his request for a moment. It catches her off guard, but she shakes her head.

"I think I can walk," She assures him him with a chuckle. He sways a bit in the saddle as he starts after them, obviously going in the same direction.

"Didn't say you couldn't," He remarks back, June hears his tone and looks back instantly, watching his eyes lay on her. Her stomach dropped at the way his gaze felt; his words playing off the sharpness of his jaw, "Also wasn't looking for an answer, just action."

June eyed him for a moment, almost a stand off from her spot on the ground. She inhaled sharply before she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't understand the feeling in her chest that had anchored its way down to a bit of heat. The authoritative speaking of his voice made her swallow.

"But what if I wanted to walk?"

June watches the twitch of his face when she denied him– when she didn't do as he asked. When she didn't succumb to his request; which, she was learning was more of a nice way to demand rather than request.

The man slipped off the saddle, moving away from the mare before he was now standing in front of June with her hair pulled from her face. The freckles on her nose were surrounded by a bit of sun-kiss, which the man took as a reward for being so close. His eyes trained in her for a moment before he noticed the hitch in her breath as they were toe to toe.

June subconsciously took a small step back before she felt the touch of his hand on her wrist. Her eyes stayed along the collar of the navy t-shirt that seemed a bit pulled at the collar. While a contrast to the white tank he wore yesterday, this accentuated the bronze of his skin from working out in the summer heat. The warmth of the summer sun has bronzed him, leaving the ink of his arms darker in contrast.

He took a package out of his back pocket, the cigarette between his fingers and dangling from his mouth now as his bright green eyes have a playful lift to them. She watches him teasingly as he lets it dangle from his tongue before placing one on her lip too, waiting for her lip to catch it.

She doesn't tell him that she only smokes when she can't sleep, or when she's stressed out by something her family has said. But she doesn't say anything, just sends him a smirk as they stand toe to toe. His fingers snap the lighter to his, hers next as he takes a draw.

"Anyone looking for you?" His voice was as smooth as leather as he kept his eyes directed to the way her cheeks sunk into breath in the smoke.

"Probably." She responds, drawing her lips between her teeth. She felt the stare down but folded as soon the dimple popped through the right of his cheek. "I have a lesson that should be starting."

He shrugged, "Your horse ran off, nothing you can do."

June went to speak, her head turning towards Fury before Harry looked down the gravel road towards the home– over a mile away like he had mentioned.

Her words got caught in her throat before she can respond, just putting the cigarette up to her lips before she licked her tongue over her bottom lip that had turned into a smile. June bites the inside of her cheek before she looks over Harry who's already moving away from her.

"What're you doing back here?" He asked her, his European accent ringing a bit different, "thought you moved to the city."

Her thoughts ran to the fact that he knew that much about her. She wondered if her dad had mentioned her before, or if he was just paying attention. Either way, her answer to him stayed true.

"I knew I wanted to work my way back here," June told him honestly, "I wanted to work back home. But I need to save some money."

Harry bit his lip as he held the reins of the horse, pulling his over just a bit to start back down the path. It was slow, but it was moving a bit. June knew she was late to her riding session, but she figured it would've been fine anyways– she wasn't going to let her students ride Fury at this point.

"You're young," Harry told her with a chuckle, as if he was trying to explain the world to her, "You've got to explore a bit before moving back home. How do you think I got here?"

June tucked some loose hair behind her ear, "How did you end up here, I mean? It's quite far."

"Five thousand miles, give or take." He tells her, walking alongside her now. They seem to be moving at a slower pace. Either way, Harry knew that he wanted to be next to her.

June took a last draw of her cigarette, throwing it on the gravel. "Way too far for me. I'd miss my family way too much."

Harry flicked the cigarette, the ashes falling a bit before he nodded a few times. "That's because you have a really great family," He looked ahead, chuckling a bit, which June caught before furrowing her brows. "I don't miss my family at all, truthfully. Not much to miss there. So, maybe I just don't get it."

June nodded a few times, understanding the implications and biting her lip at his words. There's silence in the air before she takes in a breath and pressed her lips together then, as if she's trying to find words to help alleviate a pressure that she added in. But, he speaks before she gets a chance to.

"I just think people maybe need to take a few more chances," He says, "Live a little more freely. What's the worst that can happen if you do what you want?"

"Well, most criminals live by that narrative," June tells him, which makes him laugh a little bit at her remarks before she looks at him with the blue eyes that he can't seem to fully grasp could be that color blue.

"Within reason." He adds, and he stops mid step before he watches as she turns to face him at his abrupt stop in the road.

June looks at him, a fluttering feeling in her stomach as his body moves, letting the leather reins go before he stops in front of her again. It's the proximity that sends her thoughts on a tailwind of what could happen next; the adrenaline pushes in her veins as she stares up at him. He's closer now than before, his head has dropped a bit so he can really look at her, but she's acknowledged that, pushing her chin up to make sure she can hear exactly what he's saying.

"Maybe it's the fact that I don't like playing by the rules, though." The smell of the tobacco was filling her nose as they stood so close. His eyes remained deferred from hers, watching the way that the lips and chin were pulling up, almost subconsciously.

"Seems a bit criminal, if you ask me." She teased, tilting her head a bit as she begged him to look at her. 

"I mean," He chuckled, letting his fingers move up to her chin as he took it between them to steady her, "It would be criminal to let you beg any longer. Bit pathetic to watch."

"Not begging." She pushed back, pulling her chin away from his grip, which tightened his jaw. She noticed the way that her defiance made him react, which sped her breathing up.

"Tell your body that, sweets," He bit, "I could say anything, and you'll react to it."

He licked over his lips, watching as she tried her best to stay calm, to keep her breath under control. Her lips were pursed, her stance was trying to stand off a bit, but he could see right through her—he saw that she was trying her best to stand on her own but knew that she would fold right then and there.

It was the game that Harry liked, he liked watching how she would react to him when he spoke to her. She was young, practically ten years younger or so, he could assume—she was so impressionable and the fight for dominance was almost sweet. Harry ached as he watched her try to stand him down and his eyes moved to her lips before they drew up to her eyes, watching the ocean waves of blue.

June pulled away, suddenly. She gave him a smirk before she clicked her tongue to have Fury follow her down the road.

"You think you've got me figured out," She called, looking back over her shoulder. "Not going to work with me, cowboy."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away. His eyes fell to the way that she walked, seeing the swing of her hips as a tactic to use against him. But, he did what he needed to do. He followed close behind, watching her every move—the silence in their walk back not lost on him.

"Something enticing?" June teased, noticing the way that his eyes had danced over her curves from behind. Harry's eyes lifted just a bit, settling in her eyes before he sent a wink her way.

The silence on the walk back to the barns felt good; it felt understood. It's why they both smiled to themselves, neither one seeing the other.

***

"You think I can really pull him?" June looked at Shelby, "He's older– I don't know, Shel."

"You aren't even seeing the way he looks at you," Shelby said to her friend, taking a swig of her beer. He's not taken his eyes off of her, and somehow June knows that deep inside of her, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's a bit timid like that; a sharp tongue when confronted, but a tail between her legs when she thinks of it.

The next night, June had gone out with her friend, Shelby, for a drink. It wasn't lost on her that the town was small. Most everyone knew each other, which made the Friday nights out on the town hard to avoid people you didn't want to see.

You really needed to want to be there, or you would be seen by someone you didn't want to see. June hadn't even thought of it when they went out, that she could possibly see him there. After their encounter yesterday morning, June had kept her distance. Not in a way that she felt was stand-offish, but in a way that felt like she was trying her best to let him come to her.

Dating and flirting weren't new to her, but the idea of playing this game scared her a bit. He wasn't new to this; they weren't trying to figure this out together like she had experienced in college. He was older than her, he had experience with this game.

It scared her a bit, because she didn't know how to handle herself in this type of situation. She wanted to come across as confident, but she knew that he had the opportunity to make her fold.

"You need to be drunker," Shelby stated, pushing her half-empty beer to her, watching as June wrapped her hands around the bottle. It was warm to the touch, not fresh in the slightest. "Let's go to the bar to get more."

June looked at her friend after downing the rest before she fully understood what that meant for her.

Shelby had gotten up, which made June follow her. The strawberry blonde realized without another second to spare that she had walked into the lion's den– eyes were on her as she approached the countertop bar.

One pair of eyes, specifically.

At first, she hadn't recognized him. Without the hat and the dirt-ridden t-shirt, she saw the way that the denim jacket hugged his back. The curls had a bit of bounce to them, and her mouth felt dry as she tried her best to divert her attention away.

But they were almost arm and arm and she had wondered if he would notice.

Of course he had. The scent of cherries and lime only made sense when his attention turned back towards a person who had brushed against him now. He had seen her across the room as soon as she came in with her short skirt and boots. He noticed the way that her waist dipped in with the form-fitting top and the slight curl to her hair.

He sat with his beer in his hand, a rowdy few friends were next to him as he kept his attention on her. June felt heat down her neck as she tried to ignore the staring but started to enjoy the feeling of being seen.

"Two whiskey sours," Shelby leaned across the bar to ask for before June looked at her with confusion, knowing that adding a bit of liquor in the mix would either make it better or worse—she didn't know. Her friend smirked at her, watching the bartender start to assemble their drinks.

June kept to herself for a moment before she heard a stealthy voice next to her. The jolt of her head towards him even surprised her as she licked over her lips at the way that he was looking at her.

"You following me, doll?"

June scoffed; her sharp tongue ready. "You don't think I have better things to do?" She quirked her eyebrow at him; feeling the closeness of them as she stood, and he sat on the barstool under the dim light of the grungy pub.

"No," He shook his head, taking a sip from his bottle before he turned to face her now. She was practically between his legs, his knees on either side of her as she stood closer to him than she thought. "I don't think you do."

He looked the same as he had yesterday morning; he was clean shaven on his cheeks, a bit of scruff on his lip and a twinkle in his eye that was undeniable among the green. A denim jacket covering his shoulders and tattooed arms that were on such display this morning. The hair sat longer on top of his head, just enough to add the definitive addition of chocolate curls.

June could barely look at him without her knees buckling at the bar top. But she took the drink from the bartender with confidence, trying to anchor herself.

"Well, you're wrong." June tells him, taking ahold of the cocktail before taking a sip and trying to play hard to get. A game she knew– a game she played far too often.

Harry watched the way she popped her hip, knowing she did it on purpose.

"I'm never wrong," He bit back, still playful. His eyes met June's, and she didn't dare look away. "So, try again."

June cleared her throat, standing against the bar as she let a breath out. What she hadn't anticipated was the way that his bent knee fell behind her own, pulling her closer between his legs at the busy bar.

June went to speak, a small gasp leaving her lips as she placed her hand on his shoulder as she lost a bit of balance. Her hair fell into his face as she felt herself push away. The smirk on his face only made her blush as she pushed off from him.

"Go on," He urged, "Try again."

She raised her eyebrows, noticing her hand still placed on his shoulder. "What if," She cleared her throat, "It's you who is following me?"

Harry took a sip of his beer, lazily, eyes staying on June as he shook his head softly.

" 'Course I am," He bit his lip, "Who wouldn't?"

His honesty came across, making her feel a bit speechless when she looked at him. She downed a good amount of the whiskey drink quickly, knowing that the quicker it went down, the quicker she'd feel it.

"Looks like what I said about criminal activity seems to be true," She let the straw of the drink rest on her tongue as she looked at him, "You're a bit no good."

"Never denied it," He downed a bit more of his drink before he raised his brow at her, "But you keep coming back, don't you?"

Her tongue rested on the straw, playing with it a little bit as she felt the flirtatious spirit running through her. The cat and the mouse were at their height, now.

"Just gathering all the facts on why I should stay away," She told him, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder. The small top only leaving little to the imagination; Harry tried to hold it together as he swallowed dryly.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked, his hand making its way to her hip as he pulled her a bit closer. June took a step, finding her balance as she stared at him for a moment. He knew the look on her face as he had seen that look a few times before.

A part of him felt the words deeper, which initiated him to reach for his wallet.

"Mind if you let me drive you home?" His voice was thick with a dry, hoarseness that only solidified her position backing into his lap.

June practically melted at his touch, his hand on her hip as she nodded a few times before turning towards him then.

"Don't think that should be a problem." She muttered over the music playing across the bar.

June's eyes found Shelby who was standing at the bar, just a few people over before she winked at them. She moved away, just so that Harry could stand on his feet as she watched the man throw a fifty down on the counter to cover the drinks.

"Drinking fifty dollars' worth and then driving me home?" Her attention turned towards the man as he gave her a lazy smile. "Feels a bit dangerous to get in the car with a drunk stranger."

"Feel like it's my job to pay for you too if I'm getting you to leave your friend to come spend time with me, hm?" Harry walked backwards a bit, reaching for her hand before they reached the door to the bar. "You looked like you were having a good time. But I got something to show you."

Her hand fit into his, her breathing escalating just a bit at the way that he maneuvered her grip, making his stronger instantly as he led them back to the Ford pickup he sport around town.

"I was having a good time," She tells him with a bit of a flirty essence, one that held a bit of attitude as far as he was concerned, "And now you're taking me from it. Wherever you're taking me must be pretty good."

Harry bit on his lip as he sniffles, scrunching his nose at her comment. Her comment only pressing his buttons.

"I'd apologize but I don't know if I'm sorry." He commented, cocking his head.

"You'll only have to apologize if I'm left disappointed–"

When they reached the blue pick-up, his hands instantly grabbed at her hips. They pushed her body into the iron to hold her captive against the side of the truck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to ground her. She hoped there'd be a small amount of pain as a reminder of the moment.

"You're not gonna question me, are you?" He asked her with the softest voice; the threat in his tone only heightened her senses as she flinched at the way he spoke.

The inside of her thighs fluttered at his growl of a voice. "N-No," June answered, "No, no, never."

His lips brushed against the side of her ear, pulling his body away from her just for a moment before he nodded and found the moment to understand her.

"Good girl," He praised, moving his hands upwards to her waist. The slim part of her torso melted into a perfect hourglass figure. Her hips were wide and held his sight, but his hands loved the feeling of the curve.

June's breath halted at the way that he held her– at first with a physical grip so tight, and then an invisible string of persistence.

The small pub rested just on the outskirts, in the mountains, but just far enough from the ranch. The radio played lightly; the windows were rolled down as the horizon line were just baring a bit of light.

Harry had driven the truck up to one of the horse barns that sat just close to June's guest house, where she had been staying. It was a bit further on the property, but she drove past it almost every day.

"What are we doing here?" She questioned him before he opened the door. He went to the other side to help her out, taking her hand as she jumped down. He had taken her waist in his hands to help her, the touch of him on her was enough to make her breathing hitch.

"Have something to show you, I told you." He said, taking her hand in his as he led her back up to the darkened barn. When they arrived at the open door, he flickered on a switch that gave the large space a bit of light.

When they both walked into the small barn, the only lights were overhead, the sound of the crickets chirping filled the silence. June followed Harry's lead before she noticed that they stopped at the stall at the end of the row, down closer to the tack room.

"Here we are," Harry nodded, leaning his arms on the side of the stall gate. When June turned towards the mother horse and baby that were laying on the ground before them. She felt her heart melt at the sight of the small, brown foal that had two white spots on the top of its forehead.

"Oh my god," She gasped, watching as Harry smiled at her surprise. "Aren't they the sweetest thing?"

"He was born this morning," Harry leaned against the gate, watching the two horses on the ground before he turned back to June. The mare simply in awe of the small baby, seemingly tired as she laid next to him. "Needs a name."

"The ranch has a history of naming them after the stars, you know," June tells him, walking over to the little foal. His legs tucked under him, two bright white spots perfectly in the middle of his forehead.

June leans down a bit, hesitant not to scare him. Her hand reaches out to pet the small foal before she runs over hand over the white spots.

"Well, mum is Forager of Stardust," He tells her, keeping against the gate with his arms crossed, "So, we'll keep it in the family."

June starts to giggle as she turns back to Harry, eyes wide, "Ziggy Stardust– hands down, has to be."

"Ziggy Stardust? Alright, then. Sounds like a perfect name to me." Harry questions with a laugh; his smile becoming a bit more than the typical lazy one he likes to sport. June noticed that the crinkles by his eyes were a bit more defined, her nods insinuating her answer.

June turned back to the little foal before watching as his dark brown eyes blinked a few times with the lashes so long and fluttered. Her heart was built from the small creatures around the farm, the life that had been put into this lifestyle.

It reminded her of the sweetness; the parts of her life that continued to only get better the older she got and the more she enjoyed the peacefulness of simplicity.

This was it– this was the simplicity she craved. The rebirth, the gentle touches that reminded her of what life really was all about. She loved watching the ranch run on its own, watching as it grew everyday with small details.

Harry had moved towards a bale of hay that sat in the corner, taking a seat on it as he leaned against the stable wall. He watched June nuzzling the foal before she turned her head towards him again. He gave her a tilted smirk, dimple pressing into his cheek as he watched the nurturing love that nestled out of her.

"Did you grow up on a farm?" She asked, looking back at him before standing up from her spot. She managed to make her way through the tall stable hay before taking a seat on the bale with him. The small spot was snug, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"I did," He nodded a few times, "But it was a lot different. Sheep and goat, mostly. England is also a bit flatter, so it was a lot easier to ride than it is here. But I just figured that this would be a bit of an adventure."

"Think you made a good choice?" June asked, crossing her arms as her legs settled straight out just like his.

Harry raised his brows before he felt that he couldn't stop himself from smiling all the sudden. He wanted to believe that the few beers had something to do with it, hours ago now, but he knew that it wasn't. His eyes were downcast as he started to nod a few times.

"The views here are incredible." He answered, looking up at her, "But the scenery around here is good, too."

June nodded a few times, sniffling.

Harry decided to return the question, looking back at her. "Do you think you made the right choice coming back home? Assuming you liked the city, I guess."

June shrugged her shoulders, knowing that being home was always difficult in some capacity. She loved her family, loved the ease of being able to go places and knowing exactly what to expect. Home seemed to be a place that was easily accessible to her, all the time. Her family would always bring her back—she always knew that she could lean on them without an issue or judgement of feeling pressured to leave.

"I think I made the right choice to come home and to do what feels easy right now," She nodded a few times, "I think coming home from college is scary because you're like," She shrugged, "You feel like you don't have a direction anymore. You're in school practically your whole life—it's all you know. And then to think that you could go somewhere else and live a new life after that. It's just a lot. They're letting me stay in the guesthouse until I can get my bearings."

Harry understood, to some degree. But he was the opposite—if it wasn't new, it wasn't exciting. He wanted to see new things and to not see the same view twice. It meant that you weren't settled, even though the idea of settling wasn't bad. It was just different.

"It's probably good to know that you have a space in the world somewhere," He agreed, settling a bit, "I understand that. I didn't go to college, but I get that you want to feel like you're... you. And you're not having to reintroduce yourself to a new place or new people."

"My family knows exactly who I am," She smiled, "And that's what I want right now."

That was the truth—June wanted to just stay here until she was able to get her own place, maybe down the road. She could have the best of both worlds—one day she'd be able to live on her own, but still be able to stay connected to the place that felt so close to her heart. Teaching riding lessons was her only income, but it helped pay her loans and aided in her weekend ventures with her friends, specifically Shelby.

There wasn't much more she could have wanted now. Happiness seemed to manifest itself in the little things.

But, of course, after the small incident with Fury yesterday morning, she didn't know that she would have been able to trust him. It felt that there was more she could do about it, but she knew that his outbursts had been due to her lack of maintaining his trust and boundaries. He was also just an asshole half the time, and it wasn't something that she could put up with if he continued.

June sighed a bit, thinking of it when she noticed that Harry had taken interest in her sudden displeasure.

"What's wrong?" He asked. She blinked a few times, watching as he seemed to understand that her sigh was of annoyance.

"Well, I'm not going to be able to give anymore lessons until I can get Fury figured out," She shook her head, watching the man as he listened to her quandary. "I have to get him straightened out or I'll have to get another horse ready just to train on, and work with Fury until then."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes move to the side, seeing if he would get the reaction he was looking for.

"Bet you're a real good rider, huh?" He teased, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably give good lessons, too."

June pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from the smirk that was approaching, but she rolled her eyes instead. "What a line."

"I'm just asking!" He lifted his hands in defense as he chuckled out a bit, "Was maybe looking into some lessons to help you out."

Their outstretched legs bumped into one another as she pulled at bent knee up to hug into her chest. "I charge a hefty fee."

Harry shrugged, running his hand through his hair. The unruly curls were a bit out of control as he sniffled gently at the way that the hay tickled his nose. "I'll pay up-front."

June shifted her jaw as she licked over her lips. It was a bit dangerous, this game that they were playing. But she had an idea in her brain that she was going to take his advice.

What was the worst that could happen?

She sat up, back straight. Her eyes were downcast as she looked over at him, then. He didn't know how to respond to her stare before he felt the way that she pushed her knee over his lap. Her hands steadily placing on his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smirk that said all of the words that she desperately needed to hear.

"Alright, then," She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, "Let me give you a lesson or two, cowboy." Her hips sank into his pelvis, pushing gently with the added pressure as she took a seat like he had inquired for.

Harry sat up a bit straighter, watching as she straightened up, too. Her skirt flowed over her thighs as he let his hands place on the outside of her hip for helping her balance. A smirk coated her blushing cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit.

"I'm already learning so much," He teased her, waiting for her to make another move. She thought she may have a grasp on how to approach him but became nervous as she started to take charge. It was evident to him as she settled into his lap, but he loved the initiative.

They faced one another and she bit her lip at the way that he talked to her. He paid attention to her, let his hands get to know her before he pressed further.

"Dare you to kiss me, though." He said to her, watching as she gave him a look of confusion. She chuckled at him, as she shook her head, but he just smirked, "No one can pass up a dare."

She did exactly as he had dared, pressing down so their lips met. It was like finding water in the desert as she immediately pushed forward, needing more as soon as she got a taste. Her hips rolled at the feeling of his hand making its way to the back of her neck, almost like he was guiding her closer. He was showing her what she needed without words.

The kiss allowed him to press his tongue into her mouth which elicit a whimper from her, his cock straining underneath the jeans that she had been pressing on. He followed, letting his own whimper strain out at the thought of her pressed against him. The skirt not allowing anything between them except the panties he imagined she'd have on.

Deepening the kiss, he pulled her hips forward just enough that he was allowing her hips to ride into him. The coolness of his belt made her shiver, her thighs immediately reacting to the touch.

"You wanna let me take the reins?" He offered, his voice deep and raw as he felt the closeness of them. Her back arched into him, his words giving her a break as she nodded fervently.

"Please?" She asked, practically pleading.

It didn't take any longer before he threw his arm around her, picking her up into his lap as he found the grounding of his feet. Swiftly, he held her up on his waist as she wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on as they pressed their way through the barn.

The small tack closet next to the stable was the closest they got before he threw open the door and led them in.

Harry threw her on the table, letting her sit as he continued to let his lips fall over her again and again. With her help, his hands pulled the denim off of his arms and back, pieces of clothing seem to fall off easily.

He gently allowed his hand to move to the inside of her thigh, pressing down a bit to gauge her reaction.

Her skin was hot, his eyes were down as he guided his hand to the place that she needed him most.

"Please, please," She continued to plead, his ears ringing from the way that she needed. It was so innocent and cute, almost like she hadn't any idea how badly he could wreck her.

"Turn around." He demanded, pulling away just enough to give her room to move. When she didn't, all he saw was a deer in headlights, watching him for a moment like she didn't know what he was asking of her. She swallowed, licking over her lips as she got to her feet.

Her slow movement initiated him to grab her by the hips to turn her around quickly. His hand pressed on her back, pushing her to her elbows on the deck of the tack room.

"When was the last time you were fucked?"

Her throat was tight just at the words that left his mouth; her breathing racing as she anticipated the quickness of this. She had been waiting for it; hoping he'd understand she had been quietly asking for this.

"Been a while," She answered breathlessly, her legs pushed apart as he stood behind her. The flow of the skirt barely covered over her ass before he pushed it up to reveal it all. "N-Not that long."

His eyes grew three sizes larger as he took in the detail of the black lace that lay over her milky skin.

Harry pulled himself down, letting his knees sink to the ground. His eyes were level with the lace as he quickly let his fingers rest on the waistband, pulling them off of her and down her thighs.

She gasped at the feeling, his eyes never leaving.

"Goddamn," He commented, his thumb pressing softly into her. She jerked forward at the initial contact, eyes shutting as she leaned into his touch. "Knew it," He chuckled, "Knew you'd get yourself wet for me."

His thumb moved out slowly, her reaction exactly what he wanted. She pulled back with him, wanting to be filled– he knew exactly where he needed to get her.

"Needy," He berate, his words having a bit of edge. Her eyes flickered open as she gasped at the feeling of his hand slapping the harness of her skin. His thumb removed as he spanked her again, lurching her forward. "So fucking greedy."

Her knees trembled at the feeling, left untouched as he stood behind her. The sound of his belt made her eyes shut as he undid the button on his jeans and smirked at the way she settled underneath him.

"Don't mind that we don't have a condom, right?" He asked, his hand moving to the reddened spot on her skin that she ached took feel again. He smirked, knowing the words he would say would only make her a bit restless. "Can wait if you really need me to."

Her head turned around, her lips a bit raw from where she had been nibbling on it.

"No," She shook her head, "No– no. I'm safe, we're okay." She pleaded, and his smirked lifted at her neediness.

His hands pulled on her hips to arch just a bit for him. June quickly felt the teasing way his tip pressed against her soaked cunt, her hands turned white knuckled as she gripped tightly onto the wood. It was just the feeling alone– she hadn't even seen him, but her anticipation was high.

"Just letting you know," He pressed the tip right into the softness between her, giving her a sensation of euphoria just from how turned on she had been. She let out a moan, her eyes shutting. "We play by my rules. When I say down, you go down. When I say suck, you suck. No backtalking. I'm giving you the best fuck of your life, so you listen to me to get what I know you want. Got it?"

He hadn't even given her a reason to moan, her words caught in her throat as she nodded with. A subtle whimper— the strawberry blonde hair flinging over her shoulder as he moved it away. His lips found their home on the back of her neck, sucking gently at the skin.

"You're going to be such a good girl, though, aren't you? You would never disobey me, huh?" He cooed; his lips continued to ravish at her hair line as she threw her head back in an ache to feel the pleasure he was offering.

June's hips moved back gently, but his hands gripped at her before she could push herself onto him. The slight action gave him a sense of power; his hand smacking onto the curve of her.

The cracking sound familiar to one of a whip— she gasped at the feeling, her eyes closing shut just at the pain that radiated in such a burning sensation.

"Fuck," She whispered, knowing that she was simply dripping at the need. She had never been in a position of such need— she had never needed someone to give her what she needed in such a way that it brought tears to her eyes just to think about it. "I-I'm sorry— I—"

"I'm not." He stated, his breath hot on her neck. A coolness laying underneath—the metal of the cross hitting at her shoulder when he grabbed her hips towards him. When he pushed in, it took a fluid motion before they both moaned out in pleasure. It was a shock of intensity that Harry had truly never felt before.

Sure, he'd been in this position before— but like this? He had been with beautiful women, seen beautiful things. But the enticing scent of wildflowers and sweet vanilla only flourished as his nose brushed the softness of her shoulder.

Harry tried to keep his composure— trying to follow the red behind his eyes, but suddenly feeling the urge to cum at any moment which made him a bit nervous at the quick build-up. It was exceptionally better than he had expected; he had been more turned-on than he had thought.

His forehead rested on her shoulder blade; the small strap of her tank-top the only small detail that was between his forehead and her skin. Harry bit his lip slightly as he wondered when he would be ready to pull out to continue fucking her into an oblivion that would send her to the stars.

But he felt incredibly, incredibly close to the edge just at the initial feeling of her. He grunted in a bit of frustration as he shook his head to try to clear all the thoughts that had gathered there. The curls of his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. His hands kneaded into the fleshy skin that curved over the small skirt that still rested on her thighs. He had just pushed it up enough to give himself access to what he really needed.

Focus, he thought to himself.

"You are so goddamn tight," He watched as her back arched a bit at his words. Her chin turned to the side, just enough where he could now see her side profile. Her eyes were shut, mouth parted in a small, dainty way. "No one's fucked you in a while, have they, darling? You lie to me?"

Harry pulled himself out just a bit, watching where they connected as he felt himself slip back in. The tightness surrounding him made his eyes clamp shut. She felt incredible to him on every level that he couldn't think of anything else that moment.

It was dizzying.

"N-No, not like you— not like this," June muttered. The way that her hands gripped over the table in the tack room was almost pain to her fingertips. "You're so deep, fuck."

The sound of her voice elicits a response of his hips bucking into her, the rasp and grunt of June's voice painted a beautiful picture in his memory.

"You like me deep like that?"  Harry licked over his lips, eyes moving down her body as he moved his leg to her thigh. "Pull this up on the table— go on," He urged, "it'll be good for you."

June felt the pat on her thigh, Harry's hands slid the remaining clothes down her legs to leave her completely free on the bottom. He pulled out for a moment to help her lift her leg, balancing herself as she felt suddenly empty without him filling her up.

Watching as she lifted her leg on the table, pushing herself up, Harry dropped to his knees as he took in what he saw. A certain hunger elicits his eyes as he grabbed onto the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. In an instant, she felt the spit on her already dripping cunt as his mouth attached to her almost like it was made for his lips to wrap around.

Her head drew back at the feeling of his mouth on her, the knot in her stomach was undoubtedly loosening as she felt the nudge of his tongue against her clit; the feeling of his nose gracing her. In the last twenty-four years, she had never been blessed with a partner that would have given her the opportunity to feel this way. She had never been with an older man before, either.

Maybe her innocence had been brushed away by the complete raging needs of his wandering hands.

Either way, she didn't know if she could get any better than this. The softness of his tongue with a stiff edge and control, the scruff of his upper lip taunting her as he spread her thighs further apart while his mouth took her from behind.

"Could ruin you in so many ways." Harry hummed, his tongue dripping from her arousal that coated it. "You want me to ruin you, doll?"

Her hair fell into her face as she nodded fervently, her hand pushing the locks away as she tried to catch a glimpse of him but leaned forward instead.

"Yes— I want you to ruin me, please." Her voice was a shy, timid tone but it held all of the power of her needs. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would gladly give her every bit of it.

Harry immediately felt the words go straight to his cock; the feeling of arousal only tempting him further and further. What was it about this girl that gave him such an issue? He hadn't always been so easy to please, but something about the way that she moved her hips, her small movements only made him want to be rougher.

A girl that didn't know what she wanted was always the best— it was the moment when she found exactly what she was looking for, but never knew how to express it that made him cum the hardest. Harry wanted to push every ounce of her until she was begging for it.

June lurched forward just a bit as he stood back up from his position, moving to enter her once again. The slickness of his spit mixed with her arousal created the perfect lubrication that guided his swiftly back into her.

Deeper this time— much deeper. He held onto her thighs, pushing his hips into her at a steadier rate as the soft hums of her whimpers started to go deeper and become significantly more adulterated versions of moans. He felt the way he slipped in and out of her like she had been made to pleasure him.

"Keep quiet," He urged, "You're going to get us into trouble if someone hears us."

"I want them to hear how good you're fucking me," She urged, a whimper coming out as he slowed his motions to tease her further. "Fucking me so good."

He leaned in a bit close to her ear, pulling back her neck as her body contorted to meet his needs. She was in his grasp, only moving in the way that he needed her to. His hand pulled at her throat; the coolness of his undone belt buckle was against her thigh as he pushed in completely to get as close to her as possible.

The moan that escaped her lips was cut short by the hand that cupped over her mouth, which only pushed her further.

"You're going to be quiet or I'm going to pull out, do you understand me?" His voice was deep, low, and cold as she shut her eyes to the sound of it. She felt the push of two of his fingers into her mouth, a surprise at first. "Brats get punished and I'm going to leave your little cunt wanting more if you don't listen."

June hadn't felt this way in years— there had never been a man to satisfy the needs that had been built up in this way. It really hadn't been that long since she hooked up with someone, but she had never felt this way in her entire life. She had never felt this full— this satisfied. It was extraordinarily rough— it was to the point where she hadn't ever known a pleasure like this before.

She couldn't have imagined this.

"You understand?"  He says finally; she hadn't recognized that he had truly been waiting for a response before continuing. She had concluded that his pleasure was aided with being in charge. June couldn't understand the way that she became extremely, unbelievably pleasant for him. A few more thrusts pushed her to the brink of extraordinary delight before she dipped her head at the throbbing feeling between her legs.

"I understand— I do, I do, fuck– fuck." She whimpered out, unaware of the way that his thrusts had pushed on her enough that her muscles involuntarily ached as her orgasm became all the sudden wet— a solid gasp releasing her lips as she felt him pull out just at the feeling.

Harry's eyes darkened to a color of coal before he watched her inevitably drip down her own legs, the sight only causing his own mind to fall to a place of filth and absolute insanity. The gushing liquid was only a sight that he never thought he'd see like that– especially from her.

The innocent act was truly just an act.

"Jesus Christ," He commented under his breath, a bit taken by the sight. He choked back for a moment before he looks at the way he left her cunt dripping with need over the dark brown boots that had pushed her legs open. "So, fucking messy, aren't you?"

He watched the way that June's breathing heaved for a moment before he let his hand run down her spine— almost like she had been a bit surprised, like she hadn't expected her body to do anything like that.

Harry paused for a moment, watching to make sure that she was okay. Even in the rough moments, he watched to see if she seemed alright— his head tilting a bit as he hadn't heard anything else from her. A small coax from his hand on the small of back made him pause for a moment.

"Hey," He spoke quietly, "You're okay, doll, hm?"

June felt extremely exhausted already, almost like her body had started to fail her with how her legs trembled in this position. Her head turned back to look at him, a small nod coming from her without any words as she tried to find herself back in the moment.

It was an odd feeling in his chest as he started to feel an ache that went from extremely vile— filthy as he fucked this girl against the tack closet desk, to a sense of vulnerability that he made have started to push her a bit further than she was ready for. She didn't know it until her body was giving her pleasure that she hadn't felt before.

In an attempt to aid in some relief, especially to the legs that shook a bit more than a small foal, he pulled June back to a standing position. Her confusion on her face was obvious before Harry grabbed her by the waist to place her on the end of the desk instead. The skirt that had been pulled around her thighs had been pulled down completely.

"Get you off your legs so I can finish you off without you falling out on me," He told her with a sly smile, "Anyone ever made you feel this good?"

He watched the girl— completely wrecked with a face of pure softness. Her eyes were dazed, her attention stayed on him as he she shook her head. He felt better that she was conscious, even if he had taken practically everything from her.

"I can tell," He tells her softly before he tucks the hair out of her face, "Sorry you've been so deprived," Harry comments, "Would've done it for you sooner, if I would have known. Good thing I know now, hm? Won't let this happen again, angel, promise.

The feeling of their lips presses together as June grabs at her thigh so that Harry can move into the position between her legs once again. His tongue tastes like tobacco, a hint of the gum that he had been chewing.

Harry pressed the tip of his cock back into her to finish what he had started. His muscles ached in his abdomen as he felt himself tense at the feeling through a few more thrusts as he faced her now.

"Feels so, so good," June's words had whimpered out of her, a bit surprising at how quiet she had been and started to become even more so. "I-I'm— it's— fuck. Please, please more."

Harry's hands had made their way to her hips, making sure she had been pulled completely to the front of the desk so that he could feel her deeper. His vision moved down to the place where they connected; a hint of heat on the back of his neck as he thought of the moment more intrinsically.

"C'mon," He coaxed, their noses brush as he lets his forehead rest against hers. His breathing hitched for a moment as he felt her hand move to grab at his bicep. "C'mon, give me one more. You can do it."

His hips snapped further into her; June breathed into his mouth with a hot gasp as she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of his cock nudging at a place that elicit such a firework of intensity that she hadn't ever felt before. It didn't matter how many college nights, bar hookups, serious relationships— none of those had the control that Harry had over her.

This was a feeling that he had crafted to ensure that the other person felt extraordinarily vulnerable and taken. She recognized that she wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last. 

She was okay to just be his right now.

"Mm," She bit on her lip at the thought of what had caused her to be sent over the edge prior. She wanted to know what to ask for; she didn't know what she needed, but she was certainly going to try. "W-Want you to...to c-call me a slut," she said with a small voice, just heard between them. Her eyes had turned away from him with a sheepish-shy feeling. "Need it."

Harry paused for a moment before he let his hand move to underneath her chin, propping her up to look into his eyes. He needed her to say it to him— needed to see her embarrassed and shy, wanting him to treat her like a one-night rather than a forever.

"I only call it like it is," He tells her with a grin carved like a devil, "I just have to call you a slut so you drench my cock? Is that it?" He knew he had to push her further, get her to a place in her head where she felt sexy, where she felt loose to the point of unraveling. "Letting me fuck you in a little closet on your daddy's ranch— such a pretty little brat." 

"Fuck me," She whined, knowing that her words would travel if she were any louder. "I-I'm gonna–"

"Do it." He coaxed.

Just at the sound of his words, he could feel the way that she unwound herself— simply, he didn't recognize that his words really did have the effect. His lips part as he watched her body fully shake with a convulsion the wetness coated his front with a small spray of her. Drenching his clothes and their boots as they sat with gasping breaths, he stared at the way that her pussy reacted to him, wondering how his words affected her so easily.

She was wrecked.

"That's such a good fucking girl," Harry told her softly, pressing himself back in, nodding fervently as he reassured her. Her cry was let out of the feeling of sensitivity that came after her explosive orgasm.

His hand placed on the back of her neck, pulling her forward a bit as he snapped his hips harder into her so that he could reach a place of pure euphoria. He couldn't begin to replay the actions of her pretended innocence, wondering if he would ever get to see anything like it agan. "Not going to last—fuck."

In an instant, his muscles tensed with an aching feeling that pushed his hips deeper into hers. Harry's lips placed themselves on her neck, kissing at the spots with a gentle softness—he knew what he had been in for in this intense, heated hook-up, but his cock had found a ferocious love for finishing inside of her all of the sudden.

It was all encompassing.

"Shit– shit." He hadn't even thought of the repercussions of not having the condom but needing to be careless for a few moments of time. He fell into her grip, holding onto her softly as he felt their breathing becoming less heavy.

June's legs were wrapped around his hips like an anchor, her head sat heavy on his shoulder as he mustered up the courage to pull away. He didn't really want to pull out completely, knowing it felt too good to let his cock feel the tight confines of her walls.

He slowly pulled his hips back, letting the mess fall out with him.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, watching the display of a horribly sexual sight. One that someone would pay money to see. "I've never felt anything like that."

The way that she breathed against the wall, up on the table. Her eyes were shut as she held herself up and wondered if her choices had been worth it. She blinked a few times, almost like her body was now shutting down after the intensity of their passionate love affair.

Harry waited for her to respond to him, to look at him. He watched as her chest raised and lowered, knowing she was still breathing, but seemed to be missing from behind her eyes.

"Hey," He pulled her back from against the wall, whispering to her sweetly as he felt himself breathing a bit fast, too. "C'mon, doll, we should go clean up. I think we can sneak out the back."

Her movements felt heavy as Harry tried his best to bring her back to her feet. When he felt that she was steady enough, he let go of her to place his jeans and belt back into place, watching her shakily redress herself. The quietness of the small tack closet didn't hinder them, as Harry placed a kiss along her cheek before he let his hands fall on the doorknob.

"I'll go first and then you can follow me," He tells her, watching her nod in agreement. "Front door or back door?" He asks, in reference to the small guest house that June had been staying in. Her breathing had finally fallen into place. The desperation of need still on her eyes, which only excited him to get her back alone.

"Back." She tells him, quietly. Using her words wasn't so bad, but her legs became a bit unsteady, so she held onto the table behind her.

Before he opens the door, Harry gives her a quick once over. His eyes land on her lips before he steps forward to leave a kiss along her pout, letting her sink into him once again. The taste of her instantly feeds him as he groans into the feeling.

It was about time he found the feeling everyone told him he should be looking for. It was a myth for so long, but just in the way that he lips melted into his was enough to make to him blush. Her hands in his hair at the back of his neck, the feeling of her nails along his jaw settled his need for the moment before he pulled back and gave her another peck.

"Don't be too long," He told her, "Don't want to have to wrangle you back to me." 

She smirked at his challenge as he opened the door to slip out. Her eyes shut at the way moved, closing the door behind him. A settled feeling in her chest only made her stumble back just a bit, letting herself rest on the table before she took in a solid breath.

Home had seemingly never felt so right.

[crypticminx]

i saw u were taking reqs for jacob elordi x reader so what about like cute, giggly morning sex if that makes sense

i’m so down bad for this man 🙏

Yessss ofcccc! Also making this husband and dad Jacob bc I need him so bad too :((( tysm lovey ~ also I didn’t do sex just him eating u out (sex w Jacob soon heheh)

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You woke up to the feeling of budding hands caress your cheek, the softness of his hands were enough to make you doze back into your interrupted sleep. Gentle motions sent waves of comfort down your spine.

Up and down, they graciously glided until you resorted to opening your tired eyes. the sight laid before you left you irresistibly smiling while squinting as the sunlight poured its beam to light up your bedroom. Creating an abundance of bright hues.

Your husband, Jacob, pierced his eyes at you with an enchanting grin that washed over his face; highlighting the esscense of his beauty that reminded you of one of the many reasons he charmed his way into your heart.

Jacob’s hand slowly retracted away from you as you shifted your limp body into a somewhat sitting position, letting your arched back rest on the bed headboard behind you.

“Good morning,” he whispered with radiant eyes.

You let out an amused sigh, your hands rubbing the remainder of sleep that was left inside. “Mmm, what time is it?”

He glanced at the tiny clock on the night side table, “half past seven.”

You groaned in realization that you could get away with thirty more minutes of rest before enduring your daily routine. Shuffling back down to let your head rest on your silk pillow, you admitted, “it’s too early, love.”

He paused and blinked slowly for a slight minute, moving closer to allow his hand to comb through your undone hair.

“Just missed you…” he almost sounded sorry as his tone was full of remorse for not being able to spend intimate moments like this with you all the time.

You knew what he was referring to.

Jacob’s schedule with acting had been extremely busy the past few months. Leaving him to fly out for specific casting calls or meeting with certain producers who admired his talented work. You were proud of him and wanted nothing more for him to continue succeeding in the field of film, but every time he had a last minute flight to catch, your heart ached with a familiar homesick feeling.

One that wouldn’t exit your soul until you got to reunite with your husband. Having the privilege of feeling his warmth and love in physical form was enchanting.

However, you were never alone.

Your little daughter, Lilly, kept you occupied and was the best form of sweet company. The spitting image of her father with her large curious brown eyes and silky chestnut locks, she was always there to remind you of him.

The two of you would lounge around your secluded house, watching movies, making crafts to gift for daddy when he would return home and FaceTiming him whenever he had the rare moment of free time.

And of course, there was Jacob’s beloved angel of a dog, Layla, who was an adorable companion that would cuddle beside you anytime you’d relax on the sofa and played long rounds of fetch with Lily in your large backyard. It was obvious she missed her loving owner just as much as you did.

“We missed you too,” he smiled at your courteous words, leaning to kiss your soft lips, letting his tongue swirl with yours. Loving the taste of your sweet mouth no matter what time of the day.

With no hesitation, his touch starved hands glided down to your tank top, gently tugging the straps down to reveal your chest.

“Jacob!” You exclaimed, followed by a quiet laugh, completely aware your daughter was most likely still sleeping in the room beside yours.

His hands cupped perfectly around your boobs, your nipples growing hard at the smooth contact that was the palms of his hands.

“Come on, baby,” his thick brows raised with his slick charm, “you think all those pictures you sent me while I was away is better than having the real thing right in front of me?

You blushed with hot, red cheeks as he brought up all the little things you’d do for him while the distance between the two of you left him aching for you.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Oh hush you,” you playfully rolled your eyes, feeling him squeeze a tad bit tighter at your breasts.

“Mmm,” he hummed moving down to latch his mouth on one of your exposed boobs. Your nails clutching deep into his hair as his head laid on your chest. You dug deeper as his tongue circled in brisk motions. Leaving Jacob to pause for a swift moment.

“Ow,” he exaggerated in a comical tone. You ruffled his shaggy hair down to his forehead as he licked his lips. “I wasn’t done.”

“My bad,” you winked, letting a tiny yawn escape you.

“Well,” he purred, moving his body down to your stomach as he moved the sheets to go gently over his head. “I’ll just continue down here.”

“Babe,” you pleaded with pouty eyes. “I don’t wanna make too much noise.”

Jacob was just too irresistible.

He perpetually longed for your body laid in front of him. He constantly missed you at all times you were forcefully apart. Having the long awaited freedom of getting to spend a relaxing morning with you was more than a luxury to him.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, stroking your thigh with his nimble fingertips, “our little love sleeps like an angel. She won’t hear us.”

You pretended to stall, placing a finger on your soft lips for effect. You knew the answer though and you didn’t have to think twice. You needed this—you craved this.

Giving him the look was the green light for the hungry man. He inched himself further down until he was hidden beneath the sheets and placed perfectly in between your bent thighs. The amount of small stubble he had neglected to shave gently tickled you and having no urge to fight off the feeling it provided, you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“When’s the last time you shaved?” You snickered with amusement, hearing him groan as you lifted the sheets only to not receive a response from him, but his face diving deep into your exposed parts.

He was smooth with his actions, he got straight to business and you could barely remember him taking off your panties.

A build up of heat and tingly vibrations inside of you began to stir your sex drive into motion. Having Jacob’s tongue wither it’s way into your partially wet lips was a luxurious feeling, he knew how to let your tension go by the ways of his mouth.

Your clit was caressed and it felt loving. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy. It was perfect because he did it with love.

“Taste so good, baby,” you heard a vacant mumble in between his swirls, he always made sure to praise you. After all, you were his main source of inspiration and the very thing that kept him striving for more.

You were his wife; the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his happy life with. You were the woman who gave him the best gift of all; his daughter. With everything he ever did to your body that pleasured you to no end, he always wanted to reassure you that you were more than a heavenly angel to him.

“Keep going, honey,” you tried your best to surpass a moan from exiting you, but failed miserably. Jacob’s mouth playfully tugged around the surface of your wet inner parts, something he knew you adored and always left you with insane build up.

Warm waves flowed down to your inner core, passion from Jacob’s mouth worked its magic into always providing you with a quick release.

You breathed heavily as his tongue surfaced deep into you, feeling so stimulated it reminded you of the old days when the two of you had a free house and could be as obnoxious as you pleased.

He made you feel warm. The pressure of his suctioning lips gave you sanctuary bliss.

You craved nothing more than the simple action of cuming on his face. Watching him suck all of your juices as you’d pour out your ecstasy was more rewarding than anything else in the heat of the moment.

As you could feel yourself letting go into a haze of vibrations there was a small, frail knock at the door.

“Shit,” you heard rumble from under the sheets as you slid up with the most energy you could gather while Jacob eagerly covered you back up with your undergarments.

You slid your tank top back to cover your chest, seeing Jacob mentally cursing at the interrupted moment, but smiling because he knew who was at the door waiting to be allowed entry.

Regaining composure and trying to wipe any of the remaining stamina left in the two of you, Jacob called out, “come in.”

Your daughter slowly opened the door, looking energetic as ever as she appeared to be ready to start the day. Her movement turned quick as her face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing her Father. She was thrilled that he was home and raced to his opened arms as she jumped on the bed.

“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried out with glee as Jacob smothered her with his large arms. She still seemed so tiny in comparison to him.

“Of course, angel,” he planted a kiss on her head, smooching loudly as she nuzzled deep into his bearing chest.

She looked up at him with doe eyes, revealing how much she missed her dad, “Layla and I missed you so so much.” It made him chuckle at how much she grew to adore that dog. She was nurturing just like her beautiful mother.

Your heart melted at the scene and Jacob grinned at you with a beaming smile before he turned to Lilly again. “Oh sweetheart, I can promise you daddy missed you more.”

“And what about me?” You poked the young girl, who in response, leaped onto your lap as you kissed her cheek.

“Good morning, my love,” you showered her with affection as she flung her arms around your neck. Slowly cradling her in a soothing rhythm before she left your embrace to sit in front of you and Jacob.

“Sweetie,” Jacob gestured her attention back to him as he began to slowly dress himself, throwing on a loose throwover you placed on the laundry basket next to his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go downstairs and feed Layla and then mummy and I will be right with you, okay?”

She nodded, the loose braids she slept in swayed with her motion. “Yes daddy,” she crawled off the bed as she happily ran out of your room and into the long corridors outside.

Jacob chuckled and shook his head, finding himself so relieved to be back home with his girls. He faced you as you slowly stretched your way out of bed and shuffled yourself to where he was slowly fixing himself up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as your head laid on his back. He shifted your arms around to where you could view his ecstatic face.

“Don’t worry,” he looked down at your twinkling eyes that never stopped sparkling, “I’m not finished with you yet, angel.”

You bit your lip, “I’m looking forward to it.”

What a beautiful morning it was turning out to be at the Elordi household.

[toji-girl]

tags: repost + drunk! fem reader + alcohol + age gap + Toji is soft and sweet but also possessive and jealous + you feel him up + he carries you + slightly suggestive + self-ship piece made for everyone to enjoy + lmk any missing tag please!

Three missed calls and one unheard voicemail.

Saturday 2:30 am, September 2nd; Hey…I called you two times, first one rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, and the second call the same thing happened, now this is the third and final time I have attempted to reach out before I come out looking. Where are you? Don’t make me ask again princess.

You stared down at your phone screen with a scoff at your boyfriend’s behavior. Dating an older man is not for the weak or the people who get annoyed easily. It was Friday night and you left his place after staying there all week.

So weren’t you entitled to go out and have some fun? You did ask if he wanted to go but said something along the lines of my back hurts not tonight doll but apparently not enough for him to come out and look for you.

It wasn’t as if you were going out with a bunch of your guy friends, sure there’d be a few but mostly it was just you and your girlfriends wanting a night out, and being twenty-eight it only made sense, right?

You stood in front of the mirror in your best friend’s bedroom flanked by your group of friends. Aya stood behind you and cupped your breasts when you took a picture. “Send that to gramps, he’d lose it.”

Cackles could be heard from your close knit of women who leaned in and made pouty faces taking another one to send to Toji who was currently at his house waiting for you to call him so he can come and pick you up.

It was after the fourth bar everyone decided to stop by Aya’s apartment since it was the closest one at the time and you were beyond tipsy sending him random messages throughout the evening. “He’s not that old.” You shot back.

“Old enough to be your dad! His son is close to our age! Have you thought about a little son vs. dad duo? I wonder who’s better at eating pussy?” She teased and changed into yet another outfit before going back out again.

Your face scrunched up as you threw a balled-up dress at her head. “You’re disgusting, and I can promise you that it’s Toji. That man had me crying last night just from - ”

You stopped mid sentence feeling your face flush, your inebriated brain played the memories of just that; the way he had your legs thrown over his shoulders as he made out with your pussy slowly fingerfucking you until you squirted.

Em who you also haven known since preschool snatched your phone from your hand to open the text thread between you and Toji. “Just from what? Maybe an older dude is the way to go, they can dick you down good.”

She sighed wistfully already like she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Do not look through our messages because you will be disappointed in me, I’m dirty.” You squealed trying to reach for your phone only to get smacked on the hand.

“Oh my god! You sent him a picture of your whole pussy?" She shrieked shoving your phone back in your chest with a loud cackle as the other girls joined in falling on Aya's bed with more laughter.

They all sat up and looked at you like you were their momma bird and they were waiting to be fed. "You are dirty, do you like it when daddy spanks you?" Aya asked in a deep tone trying her best to mock Toji.

You picked up a small plushie and threw it at her head feeling your cheeks flame to a level of uncomfortable warmth. "Stop! You guys are making me want to go back to his house and get fucked dumb and I did yes, he loves it and I love showing it off to him." You huffed.

With everyone ready you and everyone else linked arms and squeezed through the front door of the apartment and down the street not having a single clue that Toji was already two steps behind you, after the first time you didn't answer this was the only way to check on you and make sure nothing was going down.

He couldn't help but click his tongue a little as you swayed and clung to Aya who wasn't much better than you as everyone got shoved through the line and into the doors. It was a split-second decision he made to follow after, one he wouldn't regret one bit.

Toji was sure he would never fall in love again after his first marriage, the idea of his heart being shattered again wasn't something he wanted to go through with which is why he was here at almost three in the morning stalking you making sure you were okay and stayed safe; his pretty little girlfriend who keeps gushing about him.

It wasn't hard not to hear you giggle and talk about how much you love your boyfriend who does everything for you and how could you really not? Thankfully you were drunk enough that you didn't notice him standing in the corner dressed darkly with a hat covering most of his face.

"I think you should just move in with him but then we'd never see you again, what about our weekly date nights? You've been putting it off since you met gramps." Aya pouted as you and her danced close to the edge of the bar keeping your eyes on your friends and drinks.

You glared at Aya and let her tug you closer indulging in one of her favorite love languages. "Stop calling him that. He's barely in his forties and treats me so well, I do love him Aya, I really do." You admitted wishing you were in his arms peppering his face with kisses.

Aya handed you your drink with a shit-eating grin. "I just love teasing you is all, and I know older men are all that and a bag of chips but babe...you have to remember that he is way older than you with a kid younger than us, I think maybe your daddy issues are showing."

"How about you butt out of my relationship." You hissed feeling the fun bubbly feeling of being drunk turn into something else; a hot red rage that took a hold of you like a vice. You stumbled back away from her and broke away from your group of friends for a breath of air.

When you came back inside you still didn't see Toji who now moved after hearing your conversation with Aya and knew you were going to cry about it to him later which he'd happily lap up and soothe away any thoughts that would even begin to push him out of your life.

The booze in your veins pumped along with the blasting music as you nursed another drink while trying your best to pull out your phone to text Toji.

[You - 3:26 am]

srry im drink plz pick me up

Toji who was a mere few feet from you when he felt his phone vibrate which he quickly slid from his pocket to read your message clicking his tongue again as he looked over at you and his heart melted. You looked sad and defeated which is not a good thing paired with the alcohol you drank.

You hunched over the oak bar and sighed when you felt a pair of hands on your upper back, you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "What's the matter with my princess?" He asked.

Toji grasped your shoulders and pulled you back a little into his chest, the back of your head rested on his abs as he tilted your head up to look at him, unshed tears swam in your eyes. "How'd you get here so quickly?" You asked slurring your words together with a giggle.

He bent down to press a soft chaste kiss to your forehead before collecting you in his arms letting you hang off his left one almost as if you were a doll, his hand pulled your dress down before patting your ass with a heavy sigh looking for your friends to update them on you.

"I'm taking her back to my place, and I'm sure she will call you in the morning," Toji told your group of friends who only nodded in response watching you hang off of him, your head hung low. "Byeeeee!!" You squealed when he made his way to the exit.

Once he got you both outside he sat you down on your feet holding your upper arms. "Can you walk to the car? It's down the street." He asked immediately getting his answer when you stumbled back again, thankfully you were close enough he was able to wrap one large arm around your waist keeping you upright.

Toji used his strength and sobriety to his advantage to hoist you up again tossing you over his shoulder carefully, one hand rested on your ass to make sure it didn't bunch up. "Mhm! Toji!" You screamed reaching your hands down to squeeze and slap his ass hearing him grunt and huff your name.

"Making sure my princess gets home. Stop." His hand came down with a little force on your backside to catch your attention when you tried to interrupt him with a string of unintelligible noises.

You hung from his shoulder like a lifeless rag doll until he finally made it to his car and unlocked it with the key in his pocket. When he sat you down again your hands reached up to grab his pecs with a grin. "Love you and your big 'ole tits. Wanna bite 'em." You squealed.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at you but still let you get your way as you used the extra height from your high heels to motorboat him with a loud laugh. "Me and my big tits love you too, now get in the car so I can get you into bed." He ordered with a grunt.

Ten minutes later you found yourself settled into Toji's bed watching him as he cleaned your face with a washrag before he took off your fake eyelashes the best he could. "What's the point of these? They look like fuckin' spiders." He said and tucked you in earning a giggle.

Toji never got his answer seeing that you were asleep, your hand curled into his shirt still. His mind wandered about your conversation with Aya earlier and knew that you two would need to have one of your own.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Eighteen - School Is Scary

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.7K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

When Y/N got back from her date with Daniel, Milo was already asleep. "Thank you so much, Mol," she said as she fished her purse from her bag.

Mollie thanked her and took her leave. As she did, Daniel walked into the house. He loved the house. It was small and cute and oh so her.

She took his hand and pulled him up the stairs. Daniel couldn't stop grinning as he followed her into one of the few rooms at the top of the stairs. There was a faint glow coming from beneath Milo's door, which was completely shut, but they pushed on to the bedroom.

She switched the light on and let Daniel into her bedroom. "It's not huge, I know, but I promise it's comfortable," she said and Daniel shrugged off his jacket.

"It's perfect," he said, hanging it over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. "The size just means I'll have to hold you closer," he said and pulled off his tie.

She couldn't help but smile as she looked down at her feet. "Corny," she mumbled, but that smile on her face was undeniable. She quickly got changed out of her dress and into a pair of cosy pyjamas. "I'm going to go and check on Milo. Feel free to make yourself comfortable," she said and walked out of the room.

Daniel did just that. He stripped himself down to his boxers and took a look around the room. There were pictures up on the walls, one of baby Milo, crawling on all fours towards the camera. He had a smile on his face as he crawled through the grass.

The next picture was of the cat, Poppy if Daniel remembered rightly. He looked from picture to picture. There were no pictures of her ex, but that was understandable. But there were no pictures of her family, either. Daniel found that a little strange, but he didn't question it.

Soon Y/N returned to the bedroom just in time to see Daniel climbing into bed. He held the blanket out and she yawned before climbing under the covers with him.

Immediately, Daniel wrapped his arms around her. His nose was pressed against her neck and he let out a content breath. "This is so cosy," he said and she nodded her head, lifting his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss against his skin.

"Goodnight, Danny," she whispered, gripping his fingers.

"Goodnight," Daniel whispered and kissed the back of her neck.

They woke up like that, still holding each other. The sun had only just risen and the both of them were incredibly tired. There was a satisfying ache between her thighs as she got up. "Breakfast?" She offered, taking Daniels hands and pulling him up from the bed.

As soon as he was standing, his arms were wrapped around her and he kissed the top of her head. "I should probably get going before Milo wakes up," he muttered.

She gave him a pout, but she understood. Daniel was giving her a chance to tell Milo before they surprised him like this.

While he got dressed, she watched him. Watched the way he moved, how he covered up his tattoos with his clothes. As Daniel pulled on his shoes, Poppy the cat pushed open the bedroom door and made herself comfortable on the bed, in the space Daniel had left warm for her.

As soon as Daniel was dressed, she grabbed a hold of the tie around his neck and pulled him towards her. She pressed a kiss to his lips and Daniel wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"I have to go," he whispered, his forehead against hers.

Nodding her head she pulled away. "Come on," she whispered and laced her fingers through hers. They crept along the short hallway, past Milo's room and down the stairs. Carefully, Y/N pulled open the front door and stepped aside to let Daniel outside.

Just outside if the front door he stopped and turned back to her. His hands cradled her face and he kissed her again. He'd never stop, if he had the choice.

But he pulled away slowly. "I'll see you soon," he said and pecked her lips once more.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Daniel walked away from the house. She couldn't look away, not until he was out of view. Even then, she could barely pull herself inside.

It was only when there was a noise from upstairs, creaking floorboards and a squeaky door, that she closed the front door and turned around. Y/N walked up the stairs, always looking through the banister at Milo's door. "Munchkin, are you awake?" She called as she walked up the stairs.

Milo didn't walk out of his own bedroom. He walked out of his mothers bedroom, clutching Rexy in his hands. He rubbed at his eyes and walked towards her, letting out a little yawn.

"Should we go have some breakfast?" She suggested as she crouched down to his height.

Milo nodded his head and the two of them headed down the stairs. He sat in his usual seat at the kitchen table and sat Rexy in the seat beside him. "How about some pancakes?" She asked, pulling the ingredients out of the cupboard.

Again, Milo nodded. It wasn't lost on his mother just how quiet she was being. But she played music, singing along as she mixed the pancake batter and poured it into little circles in her pan. She flipped them until they were golden on both sides, plated them up, poured on the syrup and placed them in front of Milo.

She grabbed her own pancakes and sat opposite him. "Was Mollie fun last night?" She asked him. Milo nodded his head. He didn't use his knife and fork to cut his pancake, instead grabbing it with both hands and ripping off little chunks.

"Munchkin," she said, putting down her own knife and fork. "Is everything okay?"

"Mollie said school is scary."

They were the first words Milo had said all morning. Mollie said school is scary. Shit, she hadn't expected Mollie to say anything to Milo about school. In just a few months he'd be starting his first year at school. No more daycare, he'd be going into education.

She'd wanted to send him to the same school as Olivia, but she and Daniel hadn't been that close when she was looking at school. No doubt Olivia would be going to one of the best schools Daniel could find, but Y/N couldn't afford that for Milo. She had to send him to what was closest.

She didn't know what Mollie, Mollie who was still in high school, had said to Milo, but it was clear it had terrified him. But she couldn't blame Mollie, she didn't know what she was doing.

Y/N pushed her chair back and walked around the table, joining Milo at his side. "Munchkin," she said as she got down to his level. "I promise you, you don't need to worry about school. It'll be different and unfamiliar, but everybody around you will be thinking the same thing. It will be new for everyone and you have nothing to be worried about."

He sniffed but nodded his head. "I guess," He mumbled, picking up the next pancake. "Do you think Olivia will be in my class?"

She sat there still for a moment. It was something she was going to speak to Daniel about, but she didn't know how to bring it up. "Maybe," she said and stood up straight, ruffling his hair before she returned to her seat.

***

Daniel picked Olivia up from daycare on Tuesday. It was his week to have her, but he was jetting off to the last grand prix before the summer break. He and his ex had come to an agreement. He'd get Olivia for tonight, would get to say goodbye to her before he set off.

I know what you guys are thinking, why isn't Olivia staying with her grandparents, or even Y/N? There were better people she could stay with than her mother while she was supposed to be with her father. But as soon as summer break hit, Daniel got Olivia for two weeks. He was taking her to their house in Monaco, and then to Texas. He got Olivia for two weeks, so her mother got her for two weeks before.

Y/N picked Milo up from daycare on Tuesday. Neither of them had told the kids yet. Tonight, they had texted each other. They were going to tell Milo and Olivia that night.

They stood together outside of the daycare, waiting for the kids like they always did. "Come with us to Monaco and Texas," he said. He wouldn't hold her, not until they had told the kids.

"Danny, I can't," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't get the time off."

"Just Monaco, then."

She looked at him, looked at the way he was looking at her, and nodded her head. "Just Monaco."

Perfect, Daniel could live with that. Actually, he was incredibly happy with that. He didn't kiss her. As much as he wanted to, he didn't kiss her. Not until they told the kids.

When Milo and Olivia came running out of daycare, Daniel and Y/N resisted the urge to step away from each other. "Great news, badger," said Daniel as Olivia came running towards him. She slipped off her bag and handed it to her father. "Y/N and Milo are gonna join us in Monaco."

Olivia gasped, her eyes lighting up. She immediately turned her attention to Milo. "Really? You're coming to Monaco with us?" She asked, unable to hide her smile.

Milo looked at her mother. "Yeah, munchkin," she said and took his bag. "We're going to Monaco."

Suddenly Olivia grabbed Milo's hands. "We're going to Monaco!" She cried as they both jumped up and down.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

My Girls - Max Verstappen

<word count - 4,848>

"Y/N, liefde, go. We will be fine," Max said, trying to push you out of the door for your first day back at work since Aleta had been born. You hadn't left her before, and it wasn't like you didn't trust Max because he was a brilliant dad, but you were already getting separation anxiety. 

Christian had told you to take all the time you needed, but you decided it was time to go back or else you didn't think you ever would. Max tried to get you to you to quit your job and become a full time mum, but you didn't want to and he respected that.

As he shoved you out of the door, you turned over your shoulder to see your beautiful baby girl bouncing in her carrier with a gummy smile on her face. You knew she'd be fine, but you didn't want to go. "You're going to be late," he tried to convince you as you stood on your doorstep.

"I know, but one more cuddle won't hurt," you said, trying to lunge past him to no avail. Max grabbed you and picked you up, walking you down the stone path to the car. All three of you had gone back to the UK so that you could carry on working, and Max would still be flying around for races. 

"I love you, and I will see you later," he smiled, kissing you quickly and opening the car door. Begrudgingly, you clambered into the car, started the engine, and pulled away before you had the chance to turn back. 

Max sighed once you had gone, glad that you were getting out of the house for a bit. When he was sure you had definitely gone and not turned around, he headed back in the house to check on little Aleta, who was still bouncing about in her carrier. 

"OK princess, we have some work to do," he said, picking up the infant as she flashed him a toothless smile and gargled happily. It shocked him how much he loved the little person, and he didn't believe it when people said that you love your child in a special way. Now, nothing seemed truer and purer that the bond between parent and child. 

—

Walking through the doors to the Red Bull HQ, you instantly felt at home in the building. The people smiled fondly at you, and almost everyone asked how Aleta was doing and you proudly showed off pictures of her.

It took you around an hour to actually get to your office, but you were glad to be back once you had settled in. You walked through the door to see a huge bouquet of pink flowers perched brightly on your desk. 

The note read, 'Dear Y/N, we hope you've enjoyed your time off and are well rested, and we all hope to meet Aleta sometime soon! It is brilliant to have you back - Christian and the Team'. By the side of the flowers, was a framed photo of you, Max and Aleta that you had taken a few days after she was born. 

A few tears stung your eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and you pushed the frame to the side of your computer so that you could always look at it and have it there. 

You smiled at the note and the kind gesture, but you quickly got back to work, planning some challenges for Max, Checo and (new recruit) Daniel to do before the opener in Bahrain. As you were brainstorming, there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" you shouted, expecting it to be Christian since he said he would pop over to your office at some point in the day. "Hi," someone curtly said, closing the door behind them. That voice was familiar - and painfully so. 

"Get out, Scott," you bitterly spat, glaring at him over the top of your computer screen. The sight of him made your blood boil. You didn't feel hurt anymore, because Max had patched up the cracks that he had left in your heart. You just felt anger towards the pathetic excuse of a man that stood before you. 

"Can we just talk?" he sheepishly asked, approaching the desk and lifting the photo frame from it. Before you could snatch it off him, he got a good look at the perfect daughter he had abandoned. "Don't you dare," you scoffed, plucking the picture out of his hand and setting back on your desk. 

"Can I see her?" he asked, and the question just pissed you off more. 

"You lost the right to see her the moment you told me to get rid of her," you coldly said, fidgeting in your seat. You couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't hit him if he came nearer, so you stayed in your seat. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, and you found it rather amusing. 

Lifting your hand up to scratch your head, Scott spotted the ring on your finger glinting under the office lights. "So you're marrying him?" he half scoffed half asked, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. 

"Yes, I am," you dead-panned, waiting for someone to walk by so you could send them to Christian's office. "How the hell could you marry him after what? 5 months?" 

"Well 5 months was a hell of enough time to realise that he's a whole lot better than you could ever be. Max cared about me when you didn't have any fucks to give. Max took care of me when you left me by myself. Max loves our child more than you ever could," you yelled at him, losing your cool completely. 

"How do you know when you won't give me a chance!" He shouted back, squaring up to you as you got out of your chair. "You didn't give me a chance, did you Scott? You told me to get rid of her and forget about it," you spat back at him.

"This is me giving you a chance, Y/N," he said, and you couldn't believe the audacity of him. He decided to show up, nearly a year too late to try and right the wrong he had made. But, no apology would ever be enough. "You can stick your chance up your ass," you scoffed, seeing people gathered outside of the door as they had opened it to see what was happening.

"He isn't her father," 

"Max was there for the scans, through the morning sickness, through the moodwings, through the late nights. Where were you?" you asked as he realised that people were there and listening. Scott stood there, wide eyed in surprise. 

"Where the fuck were you, Scott?" you asked again as more people appeared in the doorway. Before he had chance to answer, Christian walked through the door. "Scott, my office, now," he instructed, and Scott scampered away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

"Y/N, someone will come for you shortly," your boss said, ushering all of the people away from your office. You felt bad for letting that unfold how it did in an office environment, but there was no chance you were letting him speak to you like that.

While you waited for someone to come through, you tried to focus on your work, but your mind always wandered to Scott and how much of a dick he was. After around half an hour, Christian's secretary came through and told you to go to his office. 

There was no point in knocking as the door was already open and he waved you in. "So, tell me what happened,". You smirked in your head - this was going to be good. 

"So, I was doing my work, Scott knocked and I told him to come in because I didn't know who it was. He asked if we could talk, and I said no because this is not the right place to do that. He saw that I was engaged and asked how I could marry Max after the short time we have had together. He asked if he could see Aleta, I said no, then he asked for a chance and I started arguing with him. I am at fault, because I did argue back instead of being mature, so I apologise for that," you said. 

"I shouldn't have allowed him to rile me up like that, especially at work, and I am so sorry you are having to waste your time doing this," you apologised, a small part of you terrified that you were going to lose your job. 

"To start, thank you for being honest with me, it makes this a lot easier. Secondly, I appreciate that this situation is difficult, but that is not a reason to have fights like that in the office. However, we have decided to let Scott go," he said, and you worried even more. 

Even if Max did want you to stay at home, getting fired was not the way he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be on your terms. "But we can't cope without you and this wasn't really your fault, so you're safe... For now," he joked, and you let out the air you had been holding in your lungs as he spoke. 

"Thank you, Christian. Again, I am really sorry," you said, standing and going back to your office. The rest of the day went by without a hitch, and you were free to drive home. 

—

"Right Leta, do we think mommy wants steak or chicken?" Max cooed at the infant as she sat in her carrier on the floor of the butchers. Of course, she didn't understand, but she gargled along just because it was her daddy talking to her.

"Yeah, I think she'd prefer steak too," he said, and the burly butcher behind the counter couldn't help but smile warmly at the pair. "Which steak are you thinking of?" he asked as Max turned to face him. "The best ones you have," he said. 

Max paid for the steaks and headed to their next destination. Now, this one was a bit of a peculiar stop, but you had burned up your entire store of them and the evening wouldn't be complete without at least one. 

When he walked into the store, he was washed over with a wave of different scents of floras. He looked around, each section labelled something different. After sniffing pretty much every candle the store had to offer while also being asked by the staff of he needed help multiple times, he was torn between two different scents.

"OK schatje, what do we think of fresh cotton?" he asked, holding the candle in front of Aleta. Did she have a clue what was going on? Absolutely not, but she was just smiling because Max was pulling funny faces at her. 

"I like your thinking, Lita, I like it," he said, picking up the rose scented candle and giving it a sniff. He held it out to Aleta, and she was just smiling because it was pink. "Yeah, I think this is the one as well. Good choice," he smiled at her, thinking he was going crazy since he was talking to a baby like she could understand.

He finally had everything he needed, and took Aleta home so that she could take a nap. Thankfully, she was a really easy baby when it came to falling asleep, so that didn't take longer than 10 minutes as she was tired after her big day.

Now, it was time for him to get to work. As the potatoes were boiling, Max headed upstairs and got extra dressed up in a suit to really make the night special. 

Just as everything was finished, he heard your car pull up onto the driveway and he stood in position by the dinner table. You trudged up the driveway with the bouquet of flowers from Christian in hand.

When you opened the door, you were greeted with the sight of the kitchen, lit up with candles and the table was all set up nicely. Walking through, you spotted Max stood there, looking handsome as ever. "What's this?" you asked, taking in the scene around you. 

"Nothing, I felt like treating you tonight," he smirked, walking towards you and taking the flowers off of you, "Who are these from?"

"Christian," you said.

"I'll put these in a vase," he said, taking them over to the sink to put some water in the container. "I'll go and get changed, give me a minute," you said. 

"No, you look perfect," 

"Max, I want to blend in," you laughed, running upstairs and dashing to the wardrobe. You flung your work clothes off and picked out the fanciest dress that you had here. You had more back in Monaco, but you brought a few home with you. 

You walked back downstairs, the soft pink fabric pooling around your feet. "You looked amazing before, but wow," he stuttered, pulling your chair out for you. 

"Thank you, darling," you smiled, sitting down and getting comfy at the table. Max brought out the first course before taking a seat himself. "So, how was work?" he asked, desperate to know how your first day had gone.

"Well, I missed the two of you so much it was unreal. I've planned some very fun things for you, Checo and Daniel to do, so look forward to that. Oh, and Scott got fired," you added quickly on the end. You really didn't want to tell him about the argument because you knew he'd get annoyed. 

"What did he do?" Max asked. Scott was a very good mechanic, to be fair to him, so there must have been some reason that he was fired, and he had a feeling you were involved. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to hide the obvious fact that you were lying. 

"He was a perfectly good mechanic, he must have done something wrong," Max explained, and you could tell by the smug look on his face that he knew he was right. "We just had an argument, it was nothing," you shrugged, hoping he would move past it.

"Has to have been more than nothing if he got fired for it," Max pressed, waiting for you to tell him everything. He knew you would, it would just take a bit of pushing. "He was just asking about Aleta," you told him.

"What did you say?" 

"He asked about Aleta and he said he wanted to see her, I told him not a chance, then he saw we were engaged and went batshit nuts," you deadpanned, hoping he wouldn't ask about how he went nuts. Max would be pissed off. 

"What do you mean nuts?" he asked. Well there goes those hopes. 

"He started banging on about how you aren't her real father and this and that," you said, and you sheepishly watched as his face contorted into anger, near on rage. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" he half-shouted, before quietening down when he remembered that Aleta was upstairs asleep. 

"Max, it's fine, we won't have to see him ever again," you tried to calm him down, but you could see his blood was boiling as much as yours was when Scott came in and yelled at you. "He doesn't have the right to say those things to you," he seethed, putting his knife and fork down. 

"Darling, don't worry about it, really," you said, as it looked like Max was accepting the fact that there was nothing he could do that wouldn't damage his career. "I just can't believe the nerve," he said, resuming his food. 

Finally, the two of you had finished dinner completely and you were just gazing at each other across the table. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate it," you smiled, looking into his eyes. So blue and so calming. 

"You deserve a hell of a lot more, but this is the best we can do with a newborn," he replied, taking your hand from across the table. You didn't exchange any words, Max just stood up, and you followed suit. 

He led you over to the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Yes, it was sudden, but that didn't mean it was unwelcomed. "I have missed this," he mumbled against your lips, before capturing your lips with his. 

You tangled your hands in his hair as the kiss deepend. Your hands snaked to the top buttons of his shirt as you fiddled with them. Just as you had undone the top few buttons, a loud cry sounded out through the house. 

"For fucks sake," you mumbled, but your small amount of anger was quickly dissipated and replaced by a need to take care of your daughter. You clambered off Max's lap and up the stairs, into Aleta's room. 

"Hey, sweetheart," you softly said to your crying daughter as you scooped her up in your arms. Pressing her to your chest and bouncing back and forth with her. "Shhh," you shushed the infant, hoping she would calm down and you could take her downstairs. 

"You can't be hungry," you sighed, trying to imagine what could be the matter with her. You checked her nappy, but that wasn't the issue. Wandering over to the rocking chair in the corner, you sat down and gently rocked back and forth. 

"I know sweetheart, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back as she slowly quietened down. After around 10 minutes, it seemed like she had calmed down and she had decided that she didn't want to scream the house down.

"Oh Leta you can be a handful," you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the top of her head. She was sprouting some fine, blonde hairs and you could have easily believed she was Max's with her hair and big blue eyes. 

As you rocked back and forth in the chair, you felt your eyelids become droopy and heavy as the weight of Aleta on your chest relaxed you. "I'll just nap for twenty minutes," you mumbled, letting sleep carry you away to a peaceful numbness. 

Max sat downstairs, missing the feeling of his lips on yours and the feeling of your hands running through his hair. The crying had stopped a while ago, so he didn't understand why you hadn't come downstairs yet. 

He figured you were just having a snuggle with her as it was your favourite way to spend time. Max had allowed you a few more minutes, but he wasn't hearing any signs of you coming back. He skipped up the stairs and quietly opened the door.

The only light from the room was the small, warmly coloured light that the lamp next to the rocking chair emitted. The light cast a shadow onto the figure of you, with Aleta snuggled up to your chest as the chair still lightly rocked. 

He couldn't help but smile to himself, the sight of pure perfection itself sitting right in front of him. You looked like something right out of a fairy tale: his queen holding the heir to the throne of their carefully crafted kingdom. 

You and Aleta were everything to him, and he would give up every championship, every podium, every trophy for the pair of you. You were his girls, and you were perfect. 

Checking the time, he realised that it was already half past eight, so he accepted that you were very tired as you had had a long day. "Liefde, come on," he gently shook you awake, careful not to wake up Aleta in the process. 

"Huh?" you sleepily murmured, not fully able to see Max until your eyes had adjusted. Aleta was pulled away from your chest, leaving your skin exposed to the cold of the room. "Max, give her back," you whined, closing your eyes and holding your arms out for her to be put back in. 

"Come on, you're coming to bed," he said as he made sure Aleta was safe and comfortable in her cot. "But I was comfy," you complained to him. You had to stifle a squeal of surprise as Max hoisted you up into his arms and walked you across the hall to the bedroom. 

He dropped you down on the bed, walking over to the wardrobe and plucking out one of his shirts from the hangers. "Can I take this off?" he asked, even though he knew the answer was going to be yes. You nodded, before the entirety of your dress was slipped over your head and thrown to the floor.

The soft t-shirt replaced it, and you wasted no time shuffling under the covers and shifting into a comfortable position. Max was wrapping his arms around you in no time, hands mindlessly trailing up and down your stomach. 

A part of him had been wanting to ask if you were open to a second child with him, maybe in two or so years time. He thought he'd let you get settled in married life combined with parenthood before he sprang that on you. 

He had already asked you two life changing questions when Aleta was born, so he thought he'd hold off for a while. 

—

Today was the big day. The day you had been waiting for your whole life. The day you would marry the man of your dreams. 

It had been exactly a year and three months since Aleta had been born and Max had proposed to you in the hospital. You had created so many memories together, and you hoped to create many more in the years to come. 

For now, it was time to focus on the moment and embrace the space you were in. As you stood at the altar, looking as stunning as ever in your flowing white gown, you gazed around the room to see everyone you loved, all gathered in one place. 

Aleta had done a brilliant job of being flower girl with Max's sister Victoria, and you couldn't help but cry a few happy tears as you watched on from the doors. Once all of your bridesmaids were stood in their places, it was your turn in the spotlight.

Max was stood there, eyes glazed over with tears of joy, looking incredibly handsome in his suit. It was like a light flashed before your eyes and you were there, his hands in yours as the officiary spoke unintelligible words to you. 

The noise was cancelled out by the bubble that entrapped you and Max. The pair of you had been through a lot, and now, you could leave all of that behind and carry on with life, together. Side by side. 

"And now, we will allow these two to share their vows with each other. Max, would you like to start?" Max nodded, and shifted where he stood.

"Y/N, liefde, the love of my life. I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for letting me into your life when you were most vulnerable, and it made a lot more sense to push me away rather than let me in. Thank you for letting me love you, because it is the thing that keeps me going when times get tough," he started, and tears were already forming in your eyes. 

"Finally, thank you for letting me be a father to Aleta, because it is the best thing I will ever get the honour of doing. I am so grateful that I am able to be stood here with you, because I may be a racing driver professionally, but above all of that, I am a husband and a father to the most beautiful girls in the world. It doesn't matter how many trophies I get, because none of them will mean half as much to me as the two of you do."

Now the tears were flowing like salty waterfalls, and you didn't want to go next. "You just had to make it hard for me, didn't you?" you laughed, the audience chuckling along with you. "Max. Being stood here with you today was something I didn't think would ever be possible. I was alone, I was scared, I was struggling. But then, there you were, like a beacon through the darkness that lit up my world,"

It was Max's turn to cry now, and you saw a few tears slip down his rosy cheeks, "You were there for me when nobody else was, and you gave me everything I have ever dreamed of and more. There is no one else that I would want to raise Aleta side by side with, and I will forever be in your debt for that. You are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbows, my sunshine on a rainy day, my everything. I know that, with you, I can do anything and everything," 

There was not a dry eye in the house, and you were finally pronounced husband and wife. He held you as the pair of you skipped down the aisle, the world beneath your feet. 

As you waited behind the doors to the reception room for your introduction as Mr and Mrs Verstappen, Max took your hand. "This is the second best day of my life," he smiled, squeezing your hand lovingly. "And the first?" you asked, but you knew what it was. It was the same for you as well.  

"The day our angel was born," he smirked as the music started and everyone was cheering. You clapped along with them, taking your spot on the dancefloor. 'Can't Take my Eyes off You' by Frankie Valli sounded out through the hall.

He held his hands on your waist as your arms linked around his neck. As you swayed to the song, your friends and family shed a few more tears of happiness at the sight of you, and there was no wiping the ecstatic smile off your face. 

Max had an equally goofy smile plastered on his lips, and he never wanted to let go of you. "Ik hou van je," he lightly laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I love you too," you smiled against him. Max let you go and spun you around, your dress and hair fanning out all around you. As you were brought back to him, he detached himself from you and quickly dashed over to Victoria, who was holding Aleta. 

He plucked your daughter out of his sister's arms and brought her over to you. He laced his other arm around you as you swayed with Aleta, who was giggling along happily. "I needed both of my girls here," he said, making your heart swell even more - despite the fact that you didn't think that was possible. 

Aleta was looking all pretty in her little pink dress and her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. She was making some happy noises as the three of you twirled around the dancefloor. 

You took her off Max, wanting to dance with your daughter. Holding Aleta in one arm, Max spun the pair of you with the other as she let out fits of high pitched giggles. As if life couldn't get any more perfect. 

Max brought you back into his chest, Aleta resting comfortably on your hip. She had been making sounds of squeals and laughs, but then she said something.  Max looked at you for a moment, confirming that he had actually heard what you had. 

You nodded at him wearily, not completely sure. "Dadda," she said, louder this time. 

"I'm not hearing things, am I?" you asked, looking at Max's dumbfounded expression with a stupid happy smile on your face. "I don't think I-"

"Dadda," she repeated, but with a lot more confidence. 

"Oh my god I am so proud of you, my clever girl!" Max exclaimed, pulling the pair of you closer to him and kissing all over her face. She kept on repeating the word, and it sounded better each time. "That's me," Max cried, his voice cracking.

"Yes it is, darling," you responded. For the rest of the night, Aleta was showing off how clever she was to everyone in the reception. As the night drew on, people eventually started retiring to their rooms, and Aleta had gone to bed a few hours ago since it had been a long night for her. 

"You tired?" Max whispered in your ear, lazily slinging an arm around your waist. Less people were dancing, and more people were sitting around, idly sipping at the remnants of their drinks.  "Yeah," you confirmed, resting a tired head on his shoulder. 

"I hope you're not too tired," he smirked, gripping you tighter. 

"I think we could head back to our room early," you mumbled, before making your rounds and saying goodbyes. As soon as you could, the pair of you ran out, hand in hand, skipped up the stairs, and stumbled into your hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other. 

Now, you officially had forever ahead of you, and you had your favourite people all around you. 

A/N - Do we want a bit more? Because I have more planned...

Tag List! (The wonderful people who commented on the last part <;3) @inkfablesandstories @luckyladycreator2 @rd14 @basicallyherondale @purplephantomwolf @halaxxxx @giffywiffy3408 @hauntingtherosebush @rosalysaoirse @mehrmonga @itsmytimetoodream @aundercover @glow-ish @hc-dutch @jorbridgerton1

|masterlist|

[tatoda]

Mine || conrad fisher x fem!reader

!!MINORS DNI!!

masterlist

request

summary: attending the same college as your best friend has its highs and lows, but conrad sees you flirting with another dude he finally does something about his feelings

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warning: slight angst, male receive, jealous conrad CHARACTERS ARE 18

wc: 1.1k

im a little rusty on my smut writing I apologize I'm trying to get back into it still. edited but I may have missed stuff

You and conrad grew up together as the oldest siblings, you to your brother and sister, steven and belly, and conrad to his brother jeremiah. Your birthdays was just a day apart from conrad’s. To say that your mothers were so excited to have babies around the same time was an understatement. They were best friends and it was their dream to have kids at the same time. Also as mothers, they knew you were both meant for each other. To be the first two little kids to run around the beach house, to attending your dream college together.

At the end of the summer before college started in the fall is when conrad broke your heart. It was the 4th of july and Jeremiah dragged everyone out of the house to go to nicole’s party. You hung out with Belly most of the night not trusting the drunk guys around her. With your mind occupied with her most of the night, you never got to talk to conrad. You wanted to watch the fireworks with him and not come to this lame party, you wanted to kiss him and tell him how you felt about him after all these years. Belly took off with nicole letting you have your fun. Who knew that fun could be ruined in 2.5 seconds? You walked into the living room looking for the brown-haired boy only spotting him with a girl on his lap and her eating his face out with him doing the same thing.

You ended up leaving the party and cousins that night. Telling your mom that you needed to finish a ton of college stuff before moving in at the end of the month. She didn’t push to ask you what happened and let you leave knowing you would call if it was anything serious. When everyone arrived back home that night conrad looked for you. He wanted to talk to you about your midnight plans to go watch the fireworks, but everywhere he looked you were gone. He looked in your bedroom seeing the nicely made bed and your bags gone. He sat on the edge of the mattress looking around softly.

“she left.” laurel walked into the room slowly

“where did she go? everything was fine before the party.” he stood up walking around your room and to the picture of you and him as babies. laurel walked behind him placing her hands on each side of his arms

“two peas in a pod, you two are inseparable.” laurel paused “she went home to finish college stuff.”

“and she didn’t ask me to go with her?” he brought a hand to rub over his face and sighed in defeat.

You didn’t talk to conrad the rest of the summer. He texted you, but you decided you better not get your heart broken again.

It was a few weeks into the school year. Your roommate dragged you out to another party that you didn’t want to attend, only because conrad would be there and almost every time he didn’t see you but you saw him. And you saw the girls he would leave with. And it just broke your heart more. So here you were trying to distract yourself with Josh— a boy from your math class— as he talked to you about his frat. You acted as if you cared only trying to hook up with him in the end.

“yeah my dad wanted me to follow him in his footsteps so he decided to pay for my school year.” he bragged taking a sip of his drink

“wow.” you acted interested

“if you want, one day i can take you for a ride on my boat back home?” he leaned towards you as if it was a secret

“i’d love that, yeah.” you put a hand on his arm rubbing it a little before a shadow crept over the both of you, it was conrad.

“sorry to bother, i need to talk to her,” he grumbled in josh’s face

“can it wait? i’m talking to her?” he tried to protest and you didn’t look at conrad, it would only make you fall and say you’re sorry for everything

“no it can’t.” he grabbed your hand off the dudes arm and walked you to an empty room before shutting the door “what the hell are you thinking!” he moved around you and away from the door

“i don’t know.” you shrugged slowly lifting your gaze to him, he was wearing a white shirt, plaid pullover, and jeans, you had never seen the boys other than in the summer and it was nice to see conrad dressed in jeans

“he was practically fucking you with his eyes!” he stood in front of you now

“grow up conrad, we’re in college now.” you scoffed. putting your drink down on a nearby dresser

“yeah, and it’s my job you don’t get an std from a frat boy like him.”

“oh and you’re any different?” it slipped out of your mouth

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he was taken back by your comment

“i’ve seen the girls you take back to your dorm. how do you know they aren’t carrying anything harmful when you stick your dick inside of them!”

“y/n what the fuck are you talking about?” his eyebrows furrowed

“the girls.”

“what girls! not one has stepped into my dorm other than our damn family when we moved in!”

“b-but you take girls home.” you tried to make yourself believe it

“i walk them back to their dorm. they are a drunk mess and my mom raised me that way, you should know.” his voice softly said

“i-“

“i’ve only had my eyes set on you since we were kids.” he blurted

“w-what?”

“yeah but i wanted to give you space to figure out your college life, but not get dicked down by a frat boy at one party.” he smiled to himself

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i didn’t see it earlier.”

“i tried for years, for you to see how i feel.”

“i felt the same way, i was going to tell you at cousin’s, but then i saw you with this girl at nicole’s party and she was all over you so i just left.”

“the party? is that why you left cousins early?” you nodded looking back down at the floor

“i was heartbroken con. you were making out with her what was i supposed to feel?”

“i don’t know you should have talked to me.”

“i talked to jere and he said that it wasn’t worth it, so i just left to get a head start to move in.”

“that’s why you were so distant when college started? we were so excited to be going to the same place, my mom was excited!”

“i felt heartbroken and i didn’t know what to do you’re the only boy i’ve ever loved, i didn’t know how to work around it!”

“i kissed the girl at nicole’s party because jeremiah told me you went on a date,” he whispered

“i-i hung out with a dude at the arcade for 10 minutes trying to help in figuring out a game. jeremiah was there!” you tan your fingers through your hair

“well, how was i supposed to know!”

“it seems like jere is just against us.” conrad laughed softly

“he’s always had something for you, you know.” you nodded knowing how the other fisher boy liked you, but you only had eyes for conrad

“he doesn’t matter. i’ve only seen him as a friend.” conrad let out a soft breath

“come here.” he gestured at you and you walked towards him as he opened his arms for you. the comfort of his arms secured you leaned against his chest hearing the raging of his heartbeat

“your heart is going crazy.” you twisted your head to look up at him with your chin on his chest and conrad looking down at you

“because of you.” he brought a hand to the side of your face and leaned in to kiss you, for the first time. conrad fisher was kissing you, it felt like a dream

He held your face so softy. He didn’t wanna break you, not again. His arms tightened around you pulling him closer to you. The kiss became deeper and stronger than you have ever had before with anyone. That’s when you felt the effect you had on him, he was hard, from you. You didn’t know you could do that to anyone ever but it felt amazing and an accomplishment.

“sorry.” he smiled against your lips as you both slowly separated lips turning red

“don’t be.” bringing one of your hands to his hair moving a few pieces away from his eyes the other hand you had slowly descended towards his pants

“y/n” a warning tone came out of his mouth

“hm?” you looked at him innocence in your eyes as if your hand wasn’t messing with the button of his jeans before moving to the zipper

“no one’s ever-“ his breath hitched as your hand cupped his erection “no one ever touched me down there.” you looked at him confused

“you’ve had sex though?” he nodded

“that doesn’t mean foreplay was involved, they just skip to the sex.” you kissed his lips

“don’t worry, just sit down and relax.” you pushed him to sit on the bed

Dragging down his jeans he lifted your hips to help get the fabrics down to his calf’s. He looked scared and nervous. You were touching him, the girl he’s been in love with forever, finally seeing the effect she has on him. You slowly swiped to get some pre cum off of the head and conrad shuttered under your touch.

“like that?”

“fuck, you have no idea.”

You coated the sides of his dick before slowly moving up and down at the right movement. He looked down at you breathing hard and deadly to your touch. A loud clatter came from outside the room and his eyes turned to worry.

“y/n, i don’t think this is such a good place to do thi-“ you cut him off licking the side of his shaft shutting him up immediately and the sounds from outside passed “fuck” he brought a hand to your head holding it as you bobbed up and down on him “keep going.” you didn’t plan on stopping, you hollowed your cheeks taking him in deeper and his groans filled the room

The way you moved made him jealous of the guys who have seen this image before. You on your knees sucking him off like no tomorrow. But the thought disappeared as soon as it came because he realized that this will be his view for the rest of his life. You looked up at him making eye contact and he felt the warm build but he didn’t wanna release just yet.

“just a few more, yeah.” he started to take control by moving your head with his hips as they came up off of the bed making you gag “just-“ he moved faster feeling the edge start. he pumped all the way into your mouth and let his release into your mouth as he groaned into the air

“fuck.” you pulled off of him and swallows the salty taste “did you just-“ he couldn’t believe you were real

“is that bad?”

“no, no, god no.” he moved your hair from your face. “all i know is no man is ever touching you again, you’re mine.”

[murdrdocs]

having a baby w mike and it being the baby’s first halloween :’) you mike and abby take lil dude to baby’s r us and spend HOURS trying to find smth perfect, mike and abby bicker over costumes bc “he’s my kid??” vs “i’m a kid and i know what kids like, and he’s MY nephew”, taking him trick or treating w abby and her staring down anyone w a mask or smth scary like “>:( don’t scare him he’s little”, mike being a Dad and wanting to take pics/vids of everything

oh my god clementine this is so sweet i actually had to silently squeal for a second !!

it’s like there’s a general buzz in the house for all of october. each of you thoroughly excited for the first real holiday in baby schmidt’s life, apart from the fourth where he’d worn an american flag swimsuit at your parents cookout. he seems to be excited too, constantly flashing his newly grown teeth even when no one’s looking. 

the outside of the house is brandished in cheesy decorations, little cobwebs and faux tombstones, abby’s hard work as she likes to remind you and mike every so often. it seems like she has just as big of a role in baby schmidt’s life as his parents, which eventually leads to the infamous babies r us argument. 

standing in the infant section again, it’s at least the fourth time the four of you have found yourselves here, the three times before ending in frustrated walks to the toy section (where mike put entirely too many toys in the buggy), a lunch break, and a feeding break for little schmidt. 

now, you’re determined to find a costume this time. the section isn’t that big so it really shouldn’t be as difficult as it is. but the two equally stubborn schmidt’s are the ones making it difficult, dual hardened eyes staring at each other. 

“he should go as mickey mouse, it’s cuter.” 

“and i’m telling you again, abby, that he’s going as a little astronaut.” 

they each hold their respective costumes in tight fists, and it’s really a funny sight to see; mike bent down to eye level with his little sister, face just a tiny bit red from the argument that really shouldn’t be as heated as it is. 

“every other kid is going to be an astronaut.” 

“and how do you know that?” 

“because dina’s little cousins are all astronauts. i’m a kid. i know what kids like, mike.” she spits his name with such a matter-of-fact attitude, that you start to see her point. 

but little schmidt is starting to get fussy in your harness and your back is really starting to hurt so you cut the argument short just when mike states, “yeah but hes my kid” and abby is starting to counter that he’s her nephew. 

you punctually grab the first costume that you see, the lion from wizards of oz, and throw it in the basket. 

“neither of you carried him and went through 17 hours of labor so i get to choose.” and they can’t argue with that logic. 

but to make the two grumpy ones feel better about losing, you all stop for ice cream on the way home. 

and weeks later, when halloween finally rolls around (because of course abby and mike were so excited for little schmidt’s first halloween that you’d gone costume shopping extremely early), they’re both on guard. 

abby’s trick or treating with a friend, you and mike left as guardians for the night, and as soon as dina rings the doorbell abby is giving her a lecture. 

“and he’s really little still so you can’t scare him, okay?” 

you and mike stand a few feet away in the hallway, coordinating outfits with baby schmidt who’s still down for the remainder of his nap. 

when it comes to trick or treating itself, mike has his camera out the entire time. he refuses to let you all leave the house without pictures. every few houses he has to take a picture of you and abby and dina walking back from the porch, or baby schmidt with his fist in his mouth. by the end of the night, he’s gone through two rolls of film, and there’s new family photos framed around the house by the time thanksgiving rolls around.

[multifandomgirl08]

From Three to Four [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Reader tells Max that your expecting, he doesn't have the best reaction at first.

Warning(s): Slight angst, Flashback to four months before

A/N: This one is a little shorter then normal. It's set before the third social media posts of The Verstappens but takes place before Stones To Throw At My Creator.

Words: 1.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

You had suspected before you had been sure. There were no signs that you could be pregnant other than the obvious. Making the appointment was the most nerve-wracking thing. Waiting for the results was stressful, but the confirmation took a bit of the pressure off.

You stared at the sonogram pictures again before placing them back in your bag.

You heard Max coming up the stairs into the kitchen where you had been waiting for him to see the box that you had left for him.

“What’s this?” Max asked picking up the wrapped box.

“Open it,” Your eyes rested on Max to see his reaction to what was in the box.

He ripped into the wrapping paper and pulled the top off the box before seeing a little Red Bull onesie. You had taken the time to go online and order one as soon as your test results had come back from your doctor.

Max was quick to drop the box and the onesie on the kitchen counter.

“I..” Max tried to get out. His expression was too blank for your liking. “I wasn't expecting this.”

"I know that it's sooner than what we talked about." You immediately said.

"I just… didn't think that we'd have them so soon." He looked so lost.

You and Max had talked about waiting for a year or two before the possibility of trying for a baby. He had just won a fourth world title and was in pursuit of a fifth, you understood that.

January 10, 2025 - Saint-Jean Cap Ferret, France

From the moment that you had woken up that morning, you had been unpacking boxes. You started in the kitchen having finished putting the last of the cups and dishes away just before Nico had come in asking about lunch.

You had made him a sandwich and taken a few bites of the leftovers from dinner yesterday because you didn’t feel like cooking after putting all of the pots and pans away.

Max had been in one of the spare bedrooms getting his racing sim all setup. It had been the last thing that had been packed and moved and unfortunately for Max, it was the last thing that was brought into the house after all of the furniture. He wasn’t happy about it sitting in the garage for a week.

After eating, you had finally gotten to the boxes that lined the built-in bookshelves that would house Max’s ever-growing collection of trophies. You were down to the last two boxes when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the lower part of the house.

Looking over, you saw Max come into the kitchen and take a Red Bull out of the fridge. You glanced back down at the trophy in your hands, seeing the little plaque on it, the words Spain 2016 on it.

You heard the clang of the Red Bull can against the marble of the kitchen counter.

"Mijn leeuwin?" You heard Max turning your head towards him.

His hands went to your hips pulling you back against his chest. "What are you thinking about?"

You lightly shook your head. The more that you unpacked things, you couldn't help but think of the possibility of having kids with Max. He was such a good dad to Nico, and you knew that you eventually wanted to give Max more kids.

"Tell me." He whispered into your ear. That was always his way of getting you to tell him things when you didn't feel like you could.

You turned in his arms to look at him, "What do you think about Nico eventually getting a sibling?"

“Checo and Daniel had asked me this." You hadn't realized that Max was already thinking of the possibility of you getting pregnant.

“And…” You wanted to know what Max thought about this. Sure, you would be the one to have the baby but you wanted to make sure that you were both on the same page about when would be a good time.

“And I told them that one day we would have more but not now.”

You nodded along with Max’s words. He was right, one day you would have more kids, but it didn’t make sense for it to be now. You had just moved, and the wedding was in less than a month. Any children could wait until after.

“Maybe in a year or two?” You asked.

“Maybe,” Max said before pulling the trophy from your hands and placing it on one of the empty shelves.

“For now,” He pulled you into his arms. “I want to enjoy all the free practice that I can.”

“Yeah?” You asked. He quickly nodded back as you let yourself melt into his arms.

He took your hand pulling you away from the boxes towards the master bedroom, getting a small practice session in before you had to start dinner.

It seemed like life or fate, whichever one had different plans for you. 

You walked closer to him pressing yourself up against his chest, trying to ground him back to you. It didn't take long for him to place his arms around your waist, his hands not traveling down to your hips like they normally would.

“What’s going on Max?” You asked. You weren’t sure why he was having this reaction. Whenever you had talked about having kids before he seemed excited. He didn’t seem that way now.

“I… I, just. I wasn’t there when Nico was born or with my ex when she was pregnant with him.”

Max had never referred to his ex as Nico’s mother. You had accepted that she was just the woman that gave birth to him. That had been easy to accept when you had found out that she had given up her parental rights to him. When you signed the adoption paperwork, something settle inside of you.

“Max,” You reached for his hand to place it on your lower abdomen. You could feel the strain in his hand, he wanted to pull away. “Max,” You started again. “You’re already a great father to Nico.”

“It’s not that. I thought that the first time that you would get pregnant I wouldn’t be driving anymore. I could be home and experience all of it this time around.” Everytime that you and Max had talked about him retiring, it had always seemed like he intended to finish his current contract with Red Bull before that happened.

“Max there is nothing stopping you from driving and us having more kids.” You offered up.

You moved your hands up to Max’s neck, pulling his head down to meet yours.

“You have done everything right by Nico since the day that he’s come into your life. Moving around your schedule so that you can be there for his first day of school, putting off an endorsement deal so that you would be there the day that he started karting.” Max finally looked down at you as you kept talking. “You have been there for all the major moments of his life, spending every moment that you can with him. Besides your not going to want to spend every moment of this pregnancy with me when I’m hormonal and get emotional for no reason.”

Max broke out in a laugh at your last sentence before he started to nod.

“You are an amazing father, this baby is going to be lucky to be raised by you.” You reached up to cup his cheek.

“Really?” He asked with baited breath.

You nodded. You could feel Max’s hands go lax under the fabric of your clothes, his fingertips just lightly tracing over the non-existent bump.

“That means no more free practice.” He muttered as he pulled away a little.

You laughed, “Free practice ended when we got back from the honeymoon.”

Max was fast on the track but it took a little longer for your body to give you those signs.

Your and Max's honeymoon had been two weeks, spending the first week in The Bahamas before flying back home and christening the new house.

Nico had spent time with Sophie, Victoria, and his cousins back in Belgium before they all flew out to see the house.

Your time alone with Max had been nice, just the two of you sleeping in before Max would go and sit on the sim for a few hours. You would eventually get up and make yourself a coffee and something that resembled breakfast before pulling him off the sim and back into bed for a while.

You hadn't been trying to get pregnant, but birth control only did so much.

“I don’t know how Nico is going to feel now that he won’t be getting all of the attention,” Max said leaning his back against the kitchen counter.

"I'm sure he'll find a way to get our attention. He is related to you after all."

“Doesn’t mean that he hasn’t picked up things from you as well.”

Nico had started picking up things that you would do, from the way that you would use certain words in a sentence, to how he would mimic you when you were doing something around the house. In those moments, you felt the most like his mother.

You couldn’t wait for this baby to be a part of such a loving family.

“You want to call your mom and Victoria and tell them, or should I?” You asked.

Max lightly groaned before dropping his head to your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair before feeling his head come up off your shoulder.

"Tomorrow?" He asked. You nodded back before noticing Max's eyes drop to your abdomen, his large hands not leaving your sides until Nico had come into the kitchen.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover

[stevesbipanic]

"It's just a weekend trip." Steve tries to remind himself as he watches Eddie's van drive away.

Eddie's band got a gig in Indy for two nights and Eddie looked so excited and Steve would've gone too but he had an really shift Sunday morning and after all, "It's just a weekend trip."

Eddie calls of course the moment they get settled at Jeff's cousin's apartment. Steve can hear his smile through the phone and picture it clearly in his mind. He can hear the others teasing Eddie in the background, classic fake kissing sounds from the other boys.

"I'll be home before you know it, sweetheart."

"Yeah, it's just a weekend trip."

Eddie is back in his trailer happy and smiling ready to tell Steve everything that happened by the time he's back from his shift two days later. Just a weekend trip.

Except it wasn't.

"You're going again?"

"Yeah just for the weekend, no biggy."

"Right, just a weekend trip." I was the fourth in six weeks.

Eddie wasn't in Steve's bed by Sunday night and there was a voicemail left on the machine.

"Sorry sweetheart,"

"Sorry Steven,"

"They want us to play a couple more shows this week."

"Your father has a few more meetings to go to."

"This could be really great for the band though!"

"It's going to be great for the business."

"I'll be back soon."

"We'll be back soon."

"Love you!"

"Goodnight Steven."

He's back by Wednesday night. He looks so excited, Steve wants to be too.

"Are you going next weekend?"

"Of course not, that's your birthday baby, can't miss that."

"Course not." See it's fine Eddie isn't them, he's different, he loves Steve.

"I've just gotta go for a meeting in the morning sweetheart I'll be back by the end of your shift you won't even notice, then we'll have cake and I'll make you dinner which will be burnt but burnt with love Stevie!"

It's easy to get swept up in it, to take the kiss on the cheek and the wave goodbye and the promise of later.

There's a leftover slice of cake in the fridge when he gets the call.

"Hey, sweetheart I'm so sorry I missed your birthday, the fucking van carked it a mile outta Indy, I'll be there when you wake up ok? I love you."

"Love you too Eds."

It's easy to accept the excuses because they're easy, the van breaks all the time, Eddie's band is getting more shows, just one more weekend, just one more night.

There's boxes scattered around the trailer.

"Going on a trip?"

"Three months."

The Harringtons last three month trip was four years ago, Steve wonders if they even remember the house phone number.

"It's just three months."

Steve can feel the end is standing in front of him. He wants to freeze this moment, he wants to hug Eddie and he wants to tell him he'll see him Sunday night and he wants to get excited hearing about Jeff tripping in a wire and he wants Eddie to stay and he wants Eddie to go and he wants this moment to just freeze and never end.

He wants his parents to choose to stay in Hawkins and not miss his birthday or graduation or hospital trips and he wants his mom to have kissed his cheek goodbye or his dad to at least wave, he wants one more phone call of we'll be home soon.

"I won't go if you don't want me to and if you want me to go I've gotta have you there, Stevie."

Steve feels his heartbeat stop.

"What?"

"I don't want to miss your birthday ever again, sweetheart, I don't want to come home and you're already asleep, I want you there or me here no more it's just one trip. I don't want to be your parents, Stevie."

Slowly, Steve's heart starts beating again, and the moment doesn't have to end.

[hellishjoel]

pretty little thing

4.9k /  dbf!joel/brat tamer!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary:  After Joel misses two of your secret hookup dates, you send him a picture to show him just what he’s missing… while you're in Joel’s bed and he’s across the street at your dad’s house. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), sending/receiving nudes, dbf!joel, brat tamer!joel, a lil choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, denial/edging followed by overstimulation, temperature play (kind of?), reader’s dad being a cockblock (TWICE)

A/N: based on this lovely request! I love dbf!joel, I’ll never get enough.  Masterlist

You had to take the perfect picture, one to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination.  Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked.  “Gonna have to start without you xx” And you weren’t lying.  Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking his rules felt like a flood of excitement.  It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered, to Seen at 9:02 PM, to the little … messaging dots.  “Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back.

You have been so careful these past few months. You had followed his rules. 

1. Time Limit: If you were sneaking out of your dad’s house to meet up with Joel, you couldn’t stay the night. 

This usually meant you running barefoot across the road from Joel’s house before the sun peeked over the hill of your cul-de-sac and back through your cracked open window with time to spare. Joel wasn’t really a “sleep over, I’ll make you coffee and breakfast in the morning” type of guy. You snuck over, did your dirty deeds, and always left him wanting more by the time you slipped out of his dark gray sheets. Not so much more that he was begging you to stay, but just enough for him to invite you back over.

2. Exposure: Don’t awkwardly avoid each other in public. 

Joel, being your dad’s closest buddy, meant he was often over at your house for a number of reasons. Your dad had a boat down on the lake, so the two liked to fish. Your dad also owned a few nice motorcycles and always lent one to Joel so they could ride together during the summer. Sometimes, Joel would just come over because he was bored. With Sarah away at school, his entertainment was down to whatever beer he had in his fridge and the worn-in spot on his La-Z-Boy recliner catching a Rangers game. It was crucial not to avoid each other, or else it would just look out of the ordinary. Like something was going on between the two of you.

3. Paparazzi: No photos. 

It’s as basic as it sounds. No taking photos of each other during your hidden moments away from the rest of the world. That meant no snapping pictures of Joel while you were out at dinner a few towns away, no videos of him railing you (no matter how many times you begged him), and definitely no nudes. 

He had a bunch of other rules he had initiated over time, ones he made after you had broken an unknown boundary. 

“It’s better for us this way, darlin’.  Don’t want no one findin’ out ‘bout us.” 

It had been well over a week since Joel invited you over last. And you were actually going insane. You both kept a standing reservation for the other on Friday nights. Fridays were at the request of Joel. After a long week of work, all he wanted to do was to come home, have a shower, and fall into bed with you. 

You’d tell your dad you were going out with friends, and if your dad tried to hang out with Joel, he would say he was FaceTiming with Sarah that evening. 

However, that plan harshly backfired when your dad insisted he wanted to hang out with his friends on Friday nights, too. 

“Come on, Joel, call Sarah tomorrow. We’re going out to the bar for a drink!”

You loved your dad, but he was a fucking cockblock. 

“We’ll meet tomorrow night, baby girl. Can’t say no to your daddy when he just wants some company.” 

His text message to you Friday night left little comfort to the aching between your legs, a whine leaving you in annoyance when you hid away in your bedroom, having to help yourself for the night. 

Apparently, Joel missed the memo that he was supposed to join your dad for one of the Rangers’ night games that following Saturday. 

“Come on, Joely, it’s the Rangers against the fuckin’ Padres!”

Your dad did have a certain distaste for the Padres, a distaste he thought he would share with Joel over beer with chips and dip in the den. 

Now, you were angry. So sexually frustrated that you could punch a hole through the damn drywall. You had to watch Joel come over to your house, wearing the dark green flannel that was labeled yours on Friday nights, with his freshly trimmed beard scruff that he probably trimmed just for you the night before. 

His eyes read slightly apologetic when he glanced in your direction upon entering the house, but your revenge plans were already drawn out. 

“Daddy, I’m going out.” You said as you leaned down to kiss his cheek and grab your keys from the dish. 

“Two nights in a row, kiddo?” He asked, his eyes not straying from the TV, munching on a chip as he watched the wind up of a pitch. 

A simple “mhm” left your lips as you started to exit the den. Joel’s curious gaze slyly followed your exit, glancing over you slowly. “Well, that’s 23 for ya. That will be your Sarah soon. Going out every night, makin’ trouble.” Your dad laughed as he told Joel, but you could see there was no smile on his face as he let out a forced little grumble.

With little curiosity from your occupied father, you went out the front door and hastily moved across the street to Joel’s house. It tasted like rain in the air, the dark clouds looming overhead confirming it. 

You used the hidden key, your key, from under a plant at the back door and let yourself in, shimmying into the darkness that veiled the inside of his home.  

You didn’t need to turn on a light, the home had become a blueprint in your head from all of your late-night rendezvous. Besides, a light on might signal the attention of your dad or Joel from across the street. 

Your breath was tight in your chest, you were so excited. It wasn’t often that you had the upper hand with Joel, but if your plan worked like you hoped it would, he would be the one begging for you. 

You shimmied out of your top and pants, revealing a dark green lingerie set. His favorite color. You pulled back his comforter and got into the familiar dark gray sheets, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment at his smell that soaked the material. You missed him, you missed his attention. Focus. 

You took a deep breath and pulled his sheets back, your phone in hand as you lifted it above your silhouette with the flash on. You smirked as you looked at your beautiful body through the camera’s lens, admiring each curve and dimple. He loved every inch of you, he told you so himself. 

You had to take the perfect picture, to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination. 

Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked. 

“Gonna have to start without you xx”

And you weren’t lying. 

Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking Joel’s rules felt like a flood of excitement. 

It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered to Seen at 9:02 PM  to the little … messaging dots. 

“Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back. 

He sounded angry, the dark gray sheets caressing you suddenly felt territorial. You were in his house without permission, breaking cardinal rule number 3. What if he didn’t want to see you again? Those rules were there for a reason, it’s what kept this little relationship going for so long. What if breaking the rules meant breaking off things? How many strikes did you get? You never truly asked. Did he even give you any strikes!?

Your heart thumped as your phone buzzed again, staggering to grab it and flip it over to see another text from him. 

“New rule. Don’t touch yourself without me there. I’m leaving now.” 

Your lips parted at the sight, a sly and excited smirk gracing your lips as you let out a fawning sigh. You were happy to know it was okay to break a rule as long as he was into it. Typical man thing, but duly noted. 

You decided to watch him leave your house from the corner of his bedroom window. He left in a hurry, his flannel clutched in his hand as he angrily paced himself across the street. Droplets from the sky left darkened dots on his short sleeve t-shirt, his pace kicking up for more than one reason to get inside his house. 

Hearing him set foot in the house made your legs flutter tighter together. You concealed yourself with his comforter, just your head popping out as you eagerly awaited for his body to peer through the doorway. You almost didn’t know what to do. Being in his house unannounced felt like you should hide. 

He didn’t immediately come upstairs, he was taking his time. What was he doing? 

Finally, you heard his thunderous boots hit the stairs, trudging their way to his bedroom. You purse your lips eagerly, one of your hands under the sheets slipping into your lacey green panties again. 

Joel pushed open his bedroom door, your face dropping at the sight. You had never seen him so angry looking. His eyes narrowed on you in that stone-cold way that made your lips part. Oh, look, his half-age situationship was holed up in his bed, begging to be fucked. 

You needed to muster up some words and fast. 

“Joel, I-”

“What.. the HELL do you think you’re doin’ in here?” He barked so loud that your eyes went wide, and you held the comforter over your body as a shield now. Any nerve you had running over here like this was fucking gone. 

Was his text only a ploy so he could make sure you were here so he could yell at you? 

Your lips parted when you realized what was taking him so long downstairs. He was lowering the fucking thermostat. A shiver shuddered up your spine, grasping the comforter closer to be tucked under your chin. 

You whimpered again, but this time more loudly, your desperate eyes meeting his stoic face. His fist was still clutching his flannel, his knuckles white, and the material surely crumpled up. 

“I asked what the hell you were doin’ over here, fuckin’ answer me.” Joel’s words were growled and low, a sorry spot in your stomach forming where your body’s heat drained. You had never seen this side of him before. With one foul move of his arm, he ripped back the comforter to reveal your half-naked body.

The cold rushed over you once more, leaving you whimpering as you pulled your hand out from where you were previously feeling up your slick. You needed to coax him out of his mood.

“I just wanted to see you, baby. Needed you yesterday… still need you tonight.” Despite the chill, you laid back in his sheets and accentuated your body, your hands smoothing over yourself. One hand cupped your breasts, fingernail gently tugging on your bralette strap while your other hand guided over the curve of your hip and played with the thin lace of your thong. 

He couldn’t help but let his gaze slip, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his eyes fell lower to the curve of your breasts amplified by the bralette. You were his pretty little thing, always have been, always will be. How could he resist you laying in his bed like this, all prepped and primed for him? Wearing his favorite color…

It didn’t take him long to decide, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

Joel’s hand reached out first, his rough fingertips delicately brushing up the skin on your thigh, instantly causing goosebumps in their path.

“What did you say to my dad that he let you leave the watch party early?” You asked curiously, your eyes fluttering up to his amber ones. Another soft lightning strike hit in the distance and highlighted his taut jawline. 

He hesitated before answering, a sly smile slowly growing on his pretty lips. He grunted and rolled his eyes before answering. 

“Told ‘em I couldn't watch the shit show the Rangers were puttin’ on. Wanted to come home.” 

You giggled a bit as your hand reached up to tug at his belt a bit. 

“Emphasis on come home.” You teased, your heart fluttering thinking of how he showed up for you. 

Over time, Joel had developed this stupid hold over you, and when you didn’t get his attention, you could turn into a bit of a brat. Listen, once you have Joel Miller’s cock inside you, it changes your life. Going without it feels like a sick detox. 

“You wore this little thing for me, huh?” His southern drawl was enough to make your stomach churn in excitement, letting out a shaky breath as your head nodded against his pillows.

His pointer finger hooked into the material of your thong, your long eyelashes batting up to him. 

He was going too slow for your pace. You were about to speak up about it, but he interrupted your thoughts. 

“You were touching yourself.”

Your lips parted, and your lusted-over eyes began to focus again on his face. Suddenly, it got frigid again. 

“What?”

“When I pulled the covers back, your hands were in your panties. You were touching yourself.” The statement made your lungs tight. 

“I told you not to touch yourself without me here, you didn’t fuckin’ listen.” His words were spat with punishment, a loud whine leaving you as he pulled his hand from you. 

“Joel, please, I wasn’t-” “You really lyin’ to me right now?” His voice boomed, guilt soaking over you. 

“The new rule was established long after I touched myself, Joel.” Your tone was all sass, eyes glaring up at him for not giving you what you wanted. 

He let out a quiet little scoff and looked over you with a half-smirk. 

“Is that so?” His eyes were daggers. 

“Yep. When you ditched me last night, and I was left all alone, I..” Your voice trailed off, lips parting as you suddenly felt shy about getting off in private. At least, telling him off about it. 

“And you what?” His voice gritted, his head cocking up as he looked you up and down. 

You took a big inhale through your nose, sitting up as your body scrambled to get on your knees on the mattress. 

“And I fingered myself until I came. Since you weren’t there to take care of me, I did it myself.” You snapped, your arms crossing in front of you, shuddering a bit with the cold. Your nipples were taut peaks under the green bralette now. 

He slowly nodded, assessing what to do with you behind his eyes, weighing his options. 

“Is that so?” 

Your lips parted as you glanced down, his bulge resting heavily against his thigh. Ugh! Why wasn’t he putting it to use? You were right there!

You supposed he decided enough was enough, and Joel was ready to play. 

Your skin was doubling in goosebumps, whimpering as his warm hands nearly felt like they were searing you as he pulled you in by your waist, leaning down to connect your lips in a dirty haste. 

A happy moan was released from the depth of your throat, arms instantly locking around his neck and tugging his hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close. You could feel him shuffling with the kiss, smirking against him as you felt him kick his boots off blindly. 

“Joel, baby, it’s too cold.” You whispered to him as your lips moved to sponge kisses up his bearded jawline, a new patch of silver and white hairs adorning his lower cheek that you paid special attention to. 

He pulled away for a moment and got a better look at your face. “You really want me to go downstairs right now and change-” 

“No.” You quickly said, with a slight smile as you pulled him back in. 

He settled on the bed, clothes on and all. You were about to fall between his legs, but he was already positioning you where he wanted. 

He was sitting up now with his back against the headboard, an empty space between his legs where he encouraged you to sit. You moved in with a small smile, your back to his front with his jean-clad thighs around your hips. His hands began to explore you, his lips attaching to your neck as your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes blissfully falling closed. His calloused hands felt over what he pleased, cupping your chest as he bit into your neck before moving down to your wet panties. 

You had been aching for hours, days even for this man’s touch. 

A stray moan left your lips, head still lulling around on his shoulder. You felt his arms constrict around you, arms pinned at your sides, and when you tried to move them, his only grew tighter. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, his digits slipping into the front of the material as he slowly moved his fingers up and down your slick. 

You yearned to hold him, kiss him, do anything to keep yourself distracted from his neurotically slow pace. 

“Joel-” you said in a short-tempered warning tone. 

Suddenly, his free hand was on your throat, your eyes clenching closed as he held you in one spot, fingers slowly circling your now throbbing clit. 

“You got started without me, figure’ you’d want all this attention.” His low voice growled into your ear, a futile whimper leaving your lips. 

“If you’re gonna act like a brat, not gonna give’ya what ya want.” An exhausted sigh left your lips, head slacking back against his shoulder again as his hold on your throat loosened.

It was painful the way he tortured you. His ankles had locked yours to be spread wide, your trembling legs giving away your impending orgasm. 

You were damn near lapping like an overworked dog in the sun every time he got you close and stopped all movements, tears threatening to spill at the frustration. 

He had been circling your engorged clit for who knows how long now. Your head had fallen limp on his shoulder and bicep, your back was either strictly straight with electricity or slumped against him with Joel practically holding up your weight. 

“J-Joel, I can’t keep taking this, please,” you whimpered. You looked like a wreck. Your mascara made your eyes teary, smudged black on your waterline, and your mouth was dry from all your broken moans and gasps. 

Your desperation didn’t change his mind. He was a stone wall right now. This was maybe the third time he denied your orgasm. You lost count. Your body no longer had the strength to hold itself up. And no matter how hot your body got each time you came close to an orgasm, the cold chill rushed back in just as he pulled away. 

“Gonna have to keep takin’ it, naughty girl. Broke more rules than I can count on both hands tonight alone.” You let out a disgruntled sigh, feeling his boner nudging against your back. 

A soft smirk graced your lips as you took what strength you could muster, your heels digging into the mattress as you grinded back against him. Your lips parted at the feeling of him poking into your ass, purposely moaning his name against the shell of his ear. 

The action only worsened your punishment, his fingers moving at a lightning-fast pace suddenly.

“F-Fuck! Joel!” A clap of thunder concealed your cries, harsh rain pitter-pattering against Joel’s window. You wiggled in his hold, breathing heavily as you begged him to let you cum.

“Please! Please! Please, Joel! Please!” One of your hands gripped his large thigh for stability, your nervous system a wreck as you tried to muscle through another one of his denials. Your heart raced, just at your peak and ready to pop, nails clenching into his jeans as he went to an all-halting stop once more. 

This time, he let your body go and moved out from behind you, your body in shambles as you fell into his pillows. You felt numb, yet so short-circuited. Your brain could barely hold a thought besides what he made you say after every denial. 

“I will not disobey the rules.” Joel’s voice scolded, whimpers leaving your lips as they parted, but you couldn’t work out the words for a moment. 

“I will not..” He started to lead you, your trembling thighs begging for more attention.

“..disobey the rules.” You mustered up, eyes fluttering open to meet him. 

This may seem like torture to anyone who didn’t know the full context, but Joel was quick to console you into bliss after each denial. 

“So good for me baby girl, come here.” He mumbled quietly as he cupped your cheek and turned you to look up at him,  stars in your eyes as he kissed your forehead, nose, and pouted lips. 

You hummed happily, your lazy hand slinking up to hold his hand that was on your cheek. 

“I learned my lesson.” You whispered, throat swollen from crying and begging all night. 

“Yeah, did you?” He asked almost mockingly. 

You nodded tiredly against the pillows, thighs still twitching at the thought of cumming. 

“You wanna cum tonight, baby? Think you deserve it after acting like a brat all night?” Joel muttered, his hands gently throwing his dark green flannel over your top half to keep you safe from the cold. 

You nodded eagerly and took the peace offering, snuggling his warm flannel around your body. It smelled like him and a little like the rain outside. 

Your eyes glanced at the comforter across the room. Better not to ask. 

“How do you wanna come tonight, darlin’?” Joel muttered, his warm hand cupping your outer thigh and gently shaking it to watch your ass jiggle. It made you feel your warm, sticky arousal still soaking your pussy. 

“Mm, want your warm tongue, Joel. Keep me warm.” You moaned softly, turning your head to see a slight smirk gracing his lips. 

“Alright angel, perk up now.” Joel directed as you moved onto your knees and bent over in front of him, your head laying to the side as your ass was up and spread for him. 

The cool air breezed over your panties, biting down on your lip as you felt him pull the material down and stretch around your thighs. His greedy hands gripped your ass, your cheeks flushing as he admired you from behind. 

“Like what ya see, old man?” You hummed teasingly, rutting your hips back until his firm hands stopped you in place. 

“Watch it.” His tone was warning you, squeezing at the flesh. 

You eagerly waited, your jaw dropping as you felt his warm lips kiss down your wet slick. 

“Oh-, Oh, Joel..” You moaned quietly, your hands at either side of your head gently gripping the sheets. 

His mustache and trimmed beard hairs tickled your upper thighs, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm tongue flattened against your core. 

Such a greedy fucking man, licking up all the slick he caused since he came home. You were just a feast for him now, getting all your juices worked up and on display for him. The thought made your stomach churn. You were already so close to coming, he didn’t even plunge a finger into you yet. 

It’s alright, you thought, because as long as he kept giving your clit attention and you could cum, it was a win in your book. 

A shaky whimper spilled into his bed sheets as his fingers gripped more into your juicy ass, spreading you open as he worked slow figure-eights around your clit. It was like a gentle massage to your throbbing core. He was practically milking you. 

What made you even wetter was hearing him moan against your pussy, the vibrations throwing your body forward. You would have fallen away from him if his hands weren’t gripping your hips so tight. 

Oh god, it was a lot now. You were so tender, so aching, now he was showering you with affection and it was too much. 

“I- Woah, Joel, wait-” You gasped as your back arched, and you threw your head back, hair going everywhere as Joel began to feast your orgasm from you. 

His tongue didn’t stop, lapping and licking with generous speed. 

“Too-too much, I- fuckkk,” you whined as you began to pant, eyes widening as you felt his mouth pull off you.

“You said I could cum.” You breathily pointed out at his absence, about to turn your head around and complain until you felt two of his meaty fingers slowly push into your fluttering pink walls. 

“Love watching your cunt get filled up, baby.” His words were purring, rolling off his sick tongue and pooling right into the base of your stomach. It left you whimpering. 

You could feel him fill you up to his knuckles, your eyes reeling back into your head as your head laid defeatedly in his mattress. 

His lips resumed their place around your clit, suckling just enough that you could feel his teeth grazing your sensitive nub. 

It was so much, too much, sooo good. 

Your breathing grew labored, your stomach clenching every time his tongue massaged your pussy in just the right way. He had you right where he wanted you. You were worried he would stop again, just like he did the time before, and the time before that, and the time before that. 

“Please-” You whimpered tiredly into the sheets, mumbling into the material.  “Please don’t leave me.” 

You could feel his cheeks quirk up in a smile on your skin. “Not goin’ anywhere kitten, you know I love how you taste.” His words made you gasp, grinding your hips back into his face. Joel was going to let you cum. 

The squelching noises of your pussy being fucked by his fingers filled the room, his tongue relentless on you now. You were a whimpering, moaning mess. You could feel your slick trickling down your thigh, a loud moan bellowing out of you as you felt Joel lick up the trail before returning to your cunt. 

Finally, you were giving way. Your hips were shaking in his hold, his name coming out in pants as his facial hair tickled you into an unexpected orgasm. You were surprised he finally let you cum even though he had promised you would, your body grilling into the mattress at the pressure points of your body. 

“Yes- yesyesyes- Oh! Fuck-” You breathed out, your face crinkling as your long-awaited orgasm thrilled your body. At last, you came. You felt like you could breathe again, think again. Why wasn’t he-

Your tired head looked back at him, watching as he didn’t back off long after your orgasm had come and gone.

“Joel- Joelll-” Your voice went out in half-ass warning since it was a moan. He wasn’t letting up. 

“No- Fuck Joel, no, please, I can’t!” Your voice was high-pitched and raw, letting out a long, drawn-out cry of his name as he overstimulated your throbbing clit. 

“Yes you can, baby, know you can.” His voice was drenched in sex, dirty old fuck. 

You heard a tear, one of your hands having ripped the sheets and making them shred in your hand. You didn’t care, neither did Joel. 

His fingers massaged at your walls, curling and searching for that spot that was just right. But you didn’t need it anymore, you could have been done. But Joel never did anything you expected. 

The noises of your wet cunt filled the room, along with moans of your name from Joel. He finger fucked you so good you thought you might squirt on his tongue. You were restless, your body moving all around as much as he would allow as you tried to find comfort. It was pointless. 

His tongue continued to lap and lick at your swollen clit, feeling it desperately tingle from all the attention. You craved Joel’s touch for over a week, but it was suddenly too much once you finally had it. 

Your body was hot despite the cold he conspired against you, your shaky hand reaching back, clutching the hair at the top of his head and fisting it as you kept him against your core. It was so good it hurt, it hurt so much it was good. And since he was already back there, he might as well make you cum again. 

The tension was unbearable,  your clit begging for a break. But Joel just kept going and going, and suddenly, you were cumming again. Your brain went blank, the orgasm making you numb as you slumped in his hold. It was sweet, overwhelming, but still sweet. He always made you feel good like this, heavenly. Like you were the only woman on Earth he ever spoiled like this. 

He cleaned you good, even teasing your clit with random licks that made your body jolt. 

You panted tiredly, sweat in every crevice of your body. Your tired eyes only focused on the sheets you shredded, twirling the piece around your finger. 

“Joel..” You whispered breathily, your soft eyes looking slowly back at him. Your walls were still fluttering around the intrusion of his fingers, watching as he slowly reeled them back. Now you felt empty. He spread the two digits apart, watching in a sweet fascination the way your slick clung to his fingers. He was sick in the head the way he put them in his mouth and licked them clean. 

He looked effortless as he laid down beside you, pulling two whole orgasms and three almost orgasms from you.

“I hate you.” You murmured as your head nuzzled against his shoulder, feeling his arm swing up to let you into his side as his strong arms reeled your limp body into his. 

“Y’owe me a new pair of sheets.” His voice also sounded tired, but it was laced with teasing. He reached behind you for his flannel and threw it over your upper half again, a comfort after the storm. 

“Needed new sheets anyway. I’ll help you find a better set tomorrow.” You hummed as your tired arm came up to lay on his chest, drawing shapes over his shirt as his hand gently stroked the hair away from your sweaty forehead. 

“Let’s see how well you can walk tomorrow. Then we’ll talk.” He sneered, a shy grin on your lips.

“Deal.” —————- Taglist: @jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please reply on this post.

[jksprincess10]

'Tis the damn season || DBF!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Each year, you go back to your hometown for Christmas, hoping to get a special treat from Mr Miller. This year might just be your year.

CWs: dbf!joel, a bit of soft dom!joel, innocence kink, big ol' age gap (20s and 50s), reader didn’t have many partners before but she had sex a few times, reader has a crush on Joel since she was a teenager so maybe a bit of power imbalance, alcohol consumption (no one having sex is drunk), explicit smut, protected p in v, fingering, daddy kink, size kink, choking on a dick, lots of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc), not wearing underwear, reader is a menace, praise kink, reader is a bit insecure, mentions of religious figures, somehow very fluffy for some reason ??? anyway (4k words)

The drive home is long and boring, music and your own voice being your only entertainment. You usually had another friend going back home riding with you, but she decided to stay on campus for Christmas. The radio predicted a storm like you haven't seen in years. So, you just hoped you wouldn't be stuck in your hometown longer than necessary.

Your parents were simple people. Christmas was never a big thing. Until they started celebrating with the Miller's. Both of your families were small, yours consisting of three people and the Miller's of Joel and his daughter. Sometimes, Joel Miller was even alone.

You convinced yourself every Christmas that you came home for your family. But you knew deep down that you came back every year for Joel Miller, your dad's best friend.

You had a crush on him since you were a teenager. The first time you had a fantasy, it was with Mr. Miller in mind. The first time you touched yourself it was with Mr. Miller in mind. When you lost your virginity, you had Mr. Miller in mind.

Since you were now in your 20s, you had hoped he saw you like the woman you were and not the daughter of his friend.

This year, you were on a mission: get Mr. Miller's attention. Whatever it took.

When you get home, you exchange small talk with your family and help your mother with the food. Your family wasn't the gifting kind, but you always brought food and lots of alcohol to the table.

While you waited for the hours to pass, you got ready in your childhood room, changing your outfit at least three times. You chose a black velvet dress that hugged your body with a deep V in the back back and matching tights that had a hint of sparkle to them. You also did your makeup: bloody red lips, shimmery lids, and fine black liner that finished in a sharp wing. You had hoped it made you look mature enough to finally get what you wanted.

When you get downstairs, your parents compliment you. You all get in the family car and take the road to the Miller’s house. It’s a 20-minute drive, as he lives in another neighbourhood.

This house was his pride and joy. Joel didn’t like to buy extravagant things for himself – hell, he still wore his old hole-filled t-shirts and jeans old enough to have kids. But his house was nice. and he liked having people in a comfortable setting.

When he bought the home after Sarah left for college, it was nice enough first, but it got even better when he renovated it with the help of Tommy and his wife, getting rid of walls to make it mostly open floor, changing the whole kitchen, repainting, the whole shebang.

He was always anxious and happy to have your family over, especially when you were there. Of course, he had seen how pretty you’ve gotten on the pictures you posted on Facebook. You were his best friend’s daughter, but he was a man with eyes and needs... and he could see beauty.

Sarah wouldn’t be there to entertain you with her girl talk. Her flight got cancelled due to bad weather, so it would be just him and his best friend’s family. He had to act natural around you.

The bell rings and he walks to the door, beer already in hand. Without any surprise, his favorite family is in front of him. He kisses the cheeks of your mother and hugs your father tightly, stopping when he gets to you.

Since you had gotten older, he didn’t really know what was the proper way to greet you. A kiss to the cheek? A hug? He was afraid to touch you, afraid of what it would do to him.

 Joel opens the door, the warmth of his house spreading outside as he hushes you all inside. You see how he freezes in front of you, so you go in for a short hug. You can smell the cologne he wore every year for special occasions. You had memorized it, but you liked having a reminder. It was a complex fragrance of sandalwood and freshness.

He also wears the same red flannel – his festive flannel, he calls it. Joel seems to love routine. The only thing that is different this year is the black-framed glasses on his nose. You immediately notice them. You can’t deny the electric feeling of arousal it sends through your body. He looks amazing.

“Already old enough for glasses?” You tease him with a smile.

“Don’t go around tryin’ to take Sarah’s spot at teasing this ol’ man, sweetheart.” Joel responds with false anger.

“I would never.” You bite your lip in a flirty manner and disappear into the kitchen.

Your mother takes everyone’s coats and hang them up like she’s in her own house. You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you feel Joel’s intense gaze on your bare back as you bring the food to the kitchen.

Of course, you had to wear that stupid sexy dress. It’s like you were on a mission to taunt him. He wondered how it would feel to kiss the soft skin of your back, how long it would take him to kiss every single mole there. Joel does stare, until his best friend catches his attention and asks for a beer.

When you’re all sat and eating together, conversation drifts to the usual small talk.

“So, why isn’t Sarah here?” You ask innocently.

“Her flight got cancelled. There’s some bad weather comin’ our way. I’d rather have her safe and see her later than not see her at all.” Joel answers between bites. He doesn’t look at you, only at his plate.

“Yeah, I’m happy you got here before the storm.” Your mom tells you.

Joel visibly tries to ignore your presence at the dinner table. He really does. But he sees the way you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, the way your red lips close around your fork for a little too long, the way your eyes linger on his arms stuck in the sleeves of his flannel that were getting just a bit too tight. It didn’t help that you looked like sin in that dress. He just wanted to tear it off your body. 

Like every Christmas dinner, you all end up in front of Joel’s fireplace. Like every Christmas dinner, your parents are loud and laughing too hard while you’re still sipping on your first glass of wine.

Unlike every Christmas dinner, the weather outside is ugly; wind loud, snowflakes coming down the sky and covering the ground in thick coats.

“Y’all should stay the night. Don’t wanna be responsible for a crash.” Joel says as he looks through the window, where the city is getting covered in a white coat.

“We’ll take the guest room; the bed is so comfortable.” Your dad slurs his words, and you roll your eyes discreetly. You hated the way they still acted like teenagers who didn’t know when to stop drinking.

“I’ll take Sarah’s room.” You mumble.

“Maybe y’all should rest. Drinkin’ doesn’t do no good for old people.” Joel jokes and helps your parents climb the stairs to the guest bedroom as your dad curses him for laughing at his old age.

Your stomach twists in anticipation; you could make a move on Joel when he comes back. You decide to make yourself look busy, so you load the dishwasher while you wait, your body bending down in hopes that Joel catches you.

And he does catch you, his eyes catching the curve of your bare ass and your glistening pussy under your tights. His grip on his empty beer bottle tightens and he takes a deep breath. You’re too young. Too sweet. You’re his best friend’s daughter. Why are you doing this to him.

“Oh, Joel.” You sound surprised, like you got caught. You turn around with a soft smirk dancing on your red lips, lips that he stares at. “Did mom and dad get to bed without any accidents?”

“Y-Yeah, they did.” He stutters. Joel abandons his empty bottle on the counter. He should stop drinking now. Maybe two cups of hot chocolate would help.

His neck is red and warm, he feels sweat on his eyebrow.

“I always tell them they shouldn’t drink so much.” You giggle sweetly, and he wants to swallow the sound and keep it for rainy days. Your fingers tease the flannel covering his arm. “Let’s go back to the living room, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, just gimme a minute, sweetheart. I was thinking about makin’ some hot cocoa for us. What do you think?”

“Sounds lovely.”  

Joel drinks a glass of cold water in one go like it’s a shot in hopes to clear his mind getting clouded by dirty thoughts of you. He makes two cups of hot chocolate, just how the two of you liked it. He remembers you staying over and drinking hot drinks with Sarah on cold nights. Yeah. All of this was so wrong.

But when he finds you laid on his couch like a pretty painting, he loses any hope of redemption. He prays to God in his head and sits near your feet.

“So, how’s school? “He clears his throat as he sets the fuming cups in front of you too.

“Oh, school is fine. I have good grades. How’s Sarah? I should text her more often.”

“She’s great. She’ll be an amazing psychologist when she’s done. I’m so proud of her.”

You both take your cups at the same time, your fingers so close to his you could take his hand in yours. You smile shyly and follow the sight of the cup in his massive hand. You wondered how it would look around your throat.  How his thick fingers would feel in your pussy.

“And boys?”

You laugh.

“College boys are… very immature and have nothing in their head. You see, I prefer older men.”

You look at him from the side and your smile widens when you see him try to speak, but the words get stuck in his throat. You were feeling very bold and you hoped that the signs you detected weren’t false.  

“M’not sure what you mean, sweetheart.” He finally says after swallowing some of the warm liquid. You watch as it goes down his throat. You both abandon your mugs on the table after that.

“I think you know, Mr. Miller.” You say as you straighten up. “Or if you don’t understand, I can demonstrate.” You throw your leg over his and straddle his thighs, looking down at him with lustful eyes. He tries to keep his hands to himself, looking up at you with restricted want.

“Older men will also break your heart. ‘Specially this one. M’not good for you. We shouldn’t…” Joel looks like he’s about to list every reason that keeps him from wanting you. But you stop him with the sweetest whisper in his ear.  

“Please, Joel.”

“God forgive me.” He says as he looks up to the ceiling and puts his hands on your waist. He’s barely touching you and your body is already hyperaware, goosebumps forming on your skin. You bend down and your lips latch onto his. His scruff is rough against your skin, his hands are traveling lower and lower. He lets you have control for a few seconds before he pries your mouth open with his tongue. Joel kisses you deeply, without restraint. It was even better than what you had imagined in your numerous fantasies. When he leaves the comfort of your mouth, his lips go down your jaw, your neck. You tilt your head to the side to grant him better access.

“You fuckin’ filthy girl. Not even wearing any underwear. You did that on purpose, huh?” Joel growls. “Your pussy’s out just waitin’ to be touched, huh?”

Your eyes roll in the back of your skull, and you whimper at his words. When you don’t respond, he slaps your ass, as soft as he can. He doesn’t want to scare you with his roughness.

“Respond.”

“I-I did. Hoping you would finally notice me.”

“You’ll be a good girl if I give ya what you want?” He asks, teeth scraping against your skin.

“Y-Yes, Joel. I will.”

He helps you out of your tights, and you grind your bare pussy against him, trying to get some relief. His big hands stop you from moving.

“Nuh-Huh. You said you’d be good, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Turn around.”

You obey, your back now facing his chest and your ass resting on the hardness in his pants. Joel keeps kissing your neck, until he gets to the bare skin of your back. You shiver and repress a moan.

“Open up your legs for me baby.” He helps you, though, a rough hand spreading your thighs. You hike up your dress, so he has better access. He puts two thick fingers against your bottom lip and you open your mouth, taking them in and wetting them.

“You sure you want this?” He asks as he pops his digits out and bring them to your bare pussy, just hovering over where you want him the most. You nod enthusiastically, but it’s not enough for him. “Tell me with words, sweetheart.”

“P-Please Joel, I want you. I want everything you can give me.”

Satisfied, Joel starts caressing your slit with the pad of his fingers, going up until they hit your clit. You already feel like putty in his arms and you’re thankful that one of his arms is holding you. He draws tight, expert circles on your bud of pleasure, and it’s better than your own hand or anyone you had before. His name comes out of your mouth softly because you know you can’t be too loud. Joel finds a fast rhythm that is guaranteed to rip a rapid orgasm from you. When you’re just over the edge, he slows down. You feel his hot breath against the skin of your neck.

“I’d usually take my time with you, darlin’. Discover every little thing that makes you spasm and cry. But you’ve been teasin’ me all fucking night and I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

“I-I’m sorry…” But the little smile tugging at your lip tells him you’re not.

While his thumb keeps circling your clit, his thick index finger enters your hole. You squeeze around him, and the sounds of him touching you are already sinful.

“Already havin’ a hard time taking my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock, huh?”

You try to relax, your back laying against his chest and you spread your legs a little more, your feet holding you up on the couch.

“I can take it.” You assure him.

He thrusts his finger in and out a few times, before slowly adding a second one. You feel a slight burn, that is soon replaced with blinding pleasure.

“How many boys have ya had sex with?”

“F-Four. Couldn’t stop… thinking about you, Joel.”

“You bad girl.” Joel tuts. “Thinkin’ about your dad’s friend like that… What am I gonna do with you?”

You feel Joel’s fingers curl inside you as his thumb keeps circling your clit. Your legs spasm lightly and your head falls on his shoulder, your mouth slightly open.

“Fuck… T-That’s it, Joel.”

He keeps hitting that spot again and again until you can’t take it anymore. Your walls close around his fingers as you come like never before. You could never find anything better than this. He leaves you empty as you try to control your breath.

“You did so good.” The contrast of the soft kiss he leaves on your cheek with the dirtiness of the words that came out of his mouth earlier is striking.  “What else do ya need, baby?”

“Need to suck your cock.” You turn your head, so he has access to your lips. His rough, still wet fingers are on your cheek as he kisses you softly, ignoring the heaviness in his balls.

“C’mon, let’s go somewhere more comfortable so you don’t hurt your legs, hm?” He slaps your thighs as if to prove his words and you get up on wobbly legs. He hooks a strong arm around your waist and helps you move upstairs to his bedroom.

The guest bedroom’s door is closed, and you can hear the familiar sound of your dad snoring. You follow Joel to his bedroom, and he closes and locks the door behind you. You realize you’ve never been in this room before, it felt so personal. You only got glimpses of it when you went to Sarah’s room. Joel’s bedroom is messy, on the contrary of the rest of his house. But you like it.

“Quit snoopin’ around and c’me here.” He’s sat on the edge of the bed, shaky fingers trying to get rid of his old flannel shirt. You smile and stand in front of him, your hands coming up to his face to delicately take off his glasses. You set them on the bedside table, and you come back to him, fingers helping with his flannel.

Of course, you had seen Joel shirtless before. But not in the quietness and secrecy of his bedroom. His shoulders are wide, freckles are decorating his chest. His tummy is hanging over his belt a little, and you just want to lay your head there. Joel pushes his pants down and kicks them off, before laying down on the bed, looking up at you with attentive brown eyes.

Your fingers find the hem of your dress, and you pull it off your body slowly, before letting it join the mess of clothes on the floor. You’re not wearing any bra as it would ruin the backless look.

“Jesus.” He sighs, like your beauty physically pains him. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you. Not so bad yourself, for an old man.” You crawl on the bed between his thighs. Without waiting, you slide off his boxers that do little to hide his erection. You had imagined his cock countless times, the color, the shape, the size of it. But your fantasies didn’t do justice to the real thing. You press a kiss to one of his strong thighs as you take the base of him in your hand. You leave a little red mark on his skin. His breath gets stuck in his throat. He’s so sensitive, more receptive than you thought.

You start by licking the head, red and angry. You discover every sensitive spot there, everything that makes him twitch, before taking the tip in your mouth. You suck on it softly as you move your hand against his length at a slow pace, wanting to drag this moment as long as you can. You want to memorize the way he tastes; how big he is in your mouth. Joel threads an encouraging hand in your hair, guiding you without putting too much pressure.

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart.” He encourages you in a low voice.

You tighten your grip a little as you slide your hand at a faster pace, the tip sucked in your mouth. You simply feel euphoric when you hear him moan. You can’t believe you’re doing this to Joel.

You feel bold, so you take more of him in. You really try to get to the base, but you feel yourself choking. Joel pulls on your hair to take you off his cock.

“Oh baby.” He soothes you as he attracts your body closer to his. You lay on him and hide your face in his neck, ashamed by your failure. “C’mon, look at me.” He cups your face and pulls you to his level, his fingers making the tears on your cheeks disappear. “You’re such a good girl. You did so good. You were just a little greedy.”

“I’m sorry. Do you still… do you still want me?” You ask shakily, suddenly all your confidence drained from your body.

“Of course, I do.” And you believe him with the warm smile he gives you.

He rolls over you, his strong body trapping you beneath him. You can’t describe it, but you feel safe. Joel leaves a kiss on your forehead before he stretches his arm to fetch a condom. You wish you could have him bare, but still. Safety first.

You watch as he pumps himself a few times and roll the protection over his cock. He uses his knee to open up your thighs, before grabbing your legs with his hands. You slowly start to feel him, the burn of the stretch. You try to keep your eyes open so you can burn the image of him fucking you in your mind. He stops when he’s fully sheathed in you, and that already knocks the breath off your lungs.

“I know it’s a lot.” He coos. “I’ll go slow.”

You nod, thankful that he’s so soft and caring with you.  He rests his palms on each side of your face, his stare holding yours as he starts moving his hips slowly. You try to repress any sound, but you still let out a soft moan.

“Feels so good, daddy.” You don’t miss the way his face gets red at your dirty words.

“I know sweetheart. You’re choking my cock.”

“Hmmm.” You close your eyes for a few seconds, taking the time to just feel. “You can fuck me harder. Please.”

“Yeah? Stop me if it’s too much.”  His hands grab your legs and he pushes them up slightly, making half of your body bend, and accentuating the sensations for both of you. The snap of his hips becomes more powerful, and you have a hard time keeping your eyes on him as they just want to roll in your skull.

“So fucking good, daddy. Never had anyone like you.” You let out, completely shameless. The words seem to encourage him, as he fucks you deeper and harder with every thrust. You feel him hitting every sweet spot in your being, and you feel like you’re gonna burst. No man has made you come on his cock before.

“Think you can gi’me another one, sweetheart. C’mon. Touch yourself.”

One of your hand cups your tits as the other one travels down your body. You draw fast, tight circles on your clit as Joel keeps fucking you harshly. You feel your walls clamp around him, and his thrusts getting messier as you hit your own high. You think you feel him spasm in you as he spurts in the condom.

Everything feels blurry, like a dream when you come down your high. You feel him coming out of you, vaguely see him getting up to put the condom in the trash. He sounds out of breath. You feel his weight beside you on the bed, and you feel the soft caress of his fingers on your cheek.

“You should go pee.”

“Hmmm.” You lazily get up and disappear into the bathroom linked to Joel’s bedroom. When you’re done, you open the door to see him already under the covers, with a spot open for you.

“You can stay.” He offers. “Your parents will probably sleep forever… We just need to wake up before them.”

You nod and take the spot beside him. He pulls the blanket over you and he brings you closer to him, warm arms around you as you lay against his chest.

“Can we make this a new Christmas tradition?” You ask, looking up to his face.

There’s a smile tugging at his lips, even though he can’t promise anything. “We can.”

[snuggerudsz]

NAP TIME AND BABY FEVER l QH43

SUMMARY: Quinn comes home to his wife and children napping, and it leads to a very important talk.

PAIRING: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hi!! I'm on such a Quinn phase always right now. And dad!Quinn actually owns my heart, so I needed to write some more for him. I don't know why the kids are always sleeping when I write these, but I have more dad!Quinn coming out soon, pinky promise. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Thank you for reading!!! <3333

The house was silent when Quinn got home. It was peaceful and quiet. That’s never a good sign with children, he thought, worried. If there’s one thing having children taught Quinn Hughes it is that silence is never a good sign. Upon entering the house, he felt immediately unsettled, his eyes darting around, searching for the little ones, who usually came running into his arms, celebrating his return as if he hadn’t left only a few hours ago. 

The defenseman left his equipment bag in the foyer, throwing his keys on the table and hastily taking off his shoes, hurrying up the stairs, looking for a sign of life from his wife and children. Worried, Quinn was skipping steps. He goes into your shared room immediately feeling his heart full. Quinn opened the door to the bedroom quietly and saw his wife, sleeping peacefully in the middle with their two children, Oliver and Aurora, snuggled up against her body. He looked over, a soft smile on his face, mentally wondering how was it possible to live such a good life, surrounded by so much love. Sometimes Quinn still couldn't believe this was his life. Not even his wildest dreams would come close to reality.

He hesitated for a moment, watching the peaceful picture before him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stepped into the room, carefully made his way over to the bed, and knelt down, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face. Quinn got up, preparing to turn away and let them rest when you stirred awake, sleepy eyes fluttering open. A bit confused, you quickly took in your surroundings, your gaze finding your husband's. You smiled up at him sleepily and beckoned him closer, doing your best to not wake up the children.

Holding out his hand, Quinn helped you get up without disrupting the two kids. You smiled at him gratefully as he guided the both of you out of the bedroom.

You and Quinn tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen, sitting at the table, drinking some tea. Quinn told you about his day, sharing the stories of the rink, the fun of living out his dreams, and also the hardships of being the captain; you talk about your day at home, telling him about the kids and about how far you've already gotten in the writing of your new book. The two of you stay there, laughing and joking as the afternoon sun casts golden light across the room.

Quinn looked at you with a loving gaze. He could feel a wave of emotion rush through him. Having that sweet moment with you, after seeing you and the children huddled up together had filled him with a longing he couldn't quite explain. He had thought about it before, but never seriously. Now, though, he couldn't help but imagine another kid. Another little one, the perfect mix of the both of you. The thought itself made him smile.

“What do you think about having another baby?” Quinn questioned suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Are you thinking about it?” You answer, looking back at your husband, waiting for his answer.

It’d be an utter lie to say you hadn’t thought about it, truth be told. Both of the kids had friends with baby siblings and you could feel the want for another one deep inside you, missing the baby days. Besides, the sight of Quinn with his teammates' babies always made your mind go blank, full of sinful thoughts. 

“I just,” The defenseman starts, unsurely, “I wouldn't be against having another kid if you're up for it.” He said shyly, almost afraid of your response.

You smiled softly, eyes sparkling in the light of the kitchen. Leaning in, you've kissed him sweetly, voice warm and affectionate, slightly flirty. “I'd love to have another baby with you, Mr. Hughes”

Quinn grinned, eyes full of relief and surprise at his wife's answer. “There’s no one else I’d rather be the mother of my children, Mrs. Hughes,” He answers, the same flirty tone you’d used.

He rises from the table, pulling you with him. He held you close, sharing a few more kisses. They stood in the kitchen, the same kitchen where they had shared so many memories together, holding each other and dreaming about the possibilities that lay ahead of them. They both knew that their family was about to get a little bigger, and they couldn't wait. The room was filled with a different kind of joy, one that was shared between two people who loved each other deeply and were excited for the future.

[nctsplug02]

i also want you to write for mrs suh and johnny (just like mrs jeong and jaehyun) 🥹🥹🥹

Misses Suh? j.suh

GENRE: fluff, smut, dilf and milf parents, halloween night!

WARNINGS: milf and dilf parents, young children are mentioned in this story (several month old-17 year olds), drinking, fluffy scenes, slight angst scene but not really, kissing, flirting, groping, oral sex (M receiving), sexual commenting, car sex, rough sex, riding in the backseat.

WARNING 2.0: chenle being the absolute cutest in the world.

DING DONG!

“trick or treaters already?” you wipe your hands on the ripped paper towel. “it’s only six?” you look away from the oven clock.

you grab the bucket of candy off the dinner table and walk to the front door only to see your husband has beat you to it.

“come on in, leslie!” a girl with her hair in short braids, a metal head brace on, her thick brown boots on, and books in her arms walk in.

“thanks, mister suh!” she comes in and quickly takes off her boots, neatly setting them aside.

“hey leslie, i thought you were a trick or treater!” you hold the big pumpkin bucket on your hip. “misses suh, you look so good!” she squeals.

you giggle and place a hand on your chest. “oh, thank you, honey.”

you and johnny were dressed as the joker and his ROD, harley quinn.

“now are you sure you don’t want to go trick or treating with your friends?” you pick at your nails while johnny joins your side.

johnny hugs your waist. “you can back out, just say the word.” johnny says with a nod.

leslie shakes her head firmly. “no ma’am and no sir. my friends are going with their families and i think i’m old enough to the point where i don’t need to go trick or treating anymore.”

“is that so?” leslie nods with a giggle and a snort ending it. “yes ma’am.”

“well, i’m gonna get my wallet so i can pay you now. just so i don’t forget.” you wink at the fourteen year old before leaving to the kitchen.

“don’t feel so bad, baby.” your husband follows you. “i can’t but help feel that way. i feel like we’re holding her back from living her childhood life.” you frown and unzip your wallet.

johnny bear hugs you, his chin on your shoulder. “she offered to watch our little min jung on halloween so, we aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“leaving a minor home alone with another minor?” you zip up your wallet after grabbing a fresh crisp $100 bill.

“she lives next door and her parents are home.”

you pause and laugh. “you just have an answer for everything, huh?” johnny hums, lightly grazing his red lips on your neck. “maybe.”

“no no, we start at my neighborhood then we start moving to the left.” haechan says coming down the stairs with his friends.

“hi haechan!” haechan flinches and jumps back. “leslie… how the hell did you get inside my house?”

leslie blinks and smiles. “oh, you don’t know? i’m babysitting your brother!” she giggles and ends off with a snort.

“yeah…okay, just don’t go in my room again.” leslie squeezes her books and nods.

a nudge pushes haechan forward. “uh…yeah, excuse us.” the group of boys squeeze past leslie who follows with her head.

“mom! dad! we’re going trick or treating, now!” haechan shouts with his hand on the door handle.

you usher to the front door. “already? it’s only six.” you frown and return with the cash fisted in your hand. “yeah, mom. we wanna go early so we can get the good king size candy bars. we’ll be back before ten, see ya—!”

“nuh-uh, uh, uh.” you shake your head while putting your hands on your hip. “lemme get a quick picture of you boys first.”

the seven of them line up, three of them squatting for the second photo.

“just one more,” you take a few more shots before haechan begins to whine. “no more, mom! we gotta go!” you glare at him and tsk. “donghyuck suh.”

haechan sighs and poses for the picture. “you boys look amazing!” you giggle at their costumes.

haechan as micheal jackson. (didn’t want to comply in the family halloween costume).

mark as spider-man. (with a big hole in the middle of the mask because haechan cut his breathing source too big).

renjun as a fox. (teased for being a furry).

chenle as jigsaw.

jaemin as a male harley quinn. (he refused to wear the booty shorts/skirt).

jeno as the joker.

lastly, the baby of the group; jisung who’s dressed as a white sheet cut out ghost. (he was lied to by the group that they were gonna go as white sheet ghosts).

“looks like we have ourselves some copycats.” johnny says, eating a kitkat. “it was unplanned!” jeno whines with jaemin agreeing.

“uh huh, sure. now, have fun trick or treating and be safe.” the boys who’s are kneeling stand back up and follow haechan who opens the front door and ushers them out.

“haechan,” you call out for the boy who halts and turns back to you. “what time should you be home?”

“ten.” you nod with a hum. “that’s right. any later than ten— i’m eating all your king size candy bars.”

haechan whines and is taken into your arms. “i love you, be safe.” you plant a kiss on his cheek. “you’re getting too tall.”

haechan was four inches taller than you but he still towered over you.

“i love you too, mom. don’t party too much, you’re getting old.” you scoff and shoo him out the house. “be safe, boys! i love you all.” you shout out the door before shutting it.

you turn to see johnny with leslie and the seven month old in her lap.

“looks like someone’s awake from their nap.” you walk over to the group and join johnny on the floor. “hey little mister, you’re gonna stay with our good neighbor, leslie.” you wipe min jungs’ drool off his cheek.

min jung coos and reaches out his arms to you. the three of you aw as you take him into your arms.

“now leslie, dear. i’ve left some instructions on the fridge. i also wrote emergency numbers—including my number and mister suhs.”

leslie nods. “yes ma’am. i’m sure we won’t be needing to use those emergency numbers! i’ve got it all under control. i took several baby classes so i’m pretty sure i know what i’m doing.”

you nod with a sigh. “alright,” you look at your husband who looks back at you. “you ready to head out?” he nods with a frown.

“okay, we’re gonna head out now. did you need anything before we leave?” leslie looks around and shakes her head. “no ma’am.”

“okay then, here he is. we have a whole bunch of snacks for you if you get hungry—and some backup bags of candy for the trick or treaters if we run out. i’m just gonna grab my bag then we’re gonna leave.” leslie nods and takes min jung back into her arms.

johnny stands and helps you up off the ground. “your bag.” he holds your bag up after helping you off the ground. “oh, thank you. i thought i left it in the kitchen.”

“nope.” johnny pats your hip and guides you to the front door where he watches you put on your boots.

“i’m gonna go start the car first so it warms up for you.” you nod and feel your heart flutter, for you.

johnny leaves the moment you finish lacing your boots. you give one more glance to leslie who makes the sleepy seven month old giggle.

“you sure you’ll be okay, leslie?” she looks back with a confused sound. “oh, yeah! we’ll be just fine, won’t we, min jung-ie?” she lifts the chunky boy up and makes him wave.

“okay then. i’ll see you later tonight. but if i don’t make it back before 10, leave baby with haechan.” leslie nods. “okay,” you extend, holding onto the door handle. “i’m going now. goodnight!”

when you shut the front door after you step out, you let out a deep breath.

it was the first time in months since you’d be leaving your son behind with a babysitter. it was always hard when leaving them even for a few minutes.

haechan was the hardest. since he was always attached to you, whenever you had to leave for work he would chase you out to the drive way whenever you tried leaving. some days you’d cave and stay with him until he eventually grew out of it.

you make your way to the car and johnny is standing by the passenger side with his phone to his ear. “—just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. be back by ten and be safe.”

johnny hangs up and smiles when seeing you. “hey puddin’.” johnny opens the passenger side. “hey joker, who was that on the phone?”

“just my brother.” you climb into the passenger side. “mark?” johnny nods, watching you seatbelt yourself on. “i was just telling him that since he’s the oldest, don’t let them screw around too much.”

“it’s halloween and they’re teenagers. let’s just hope we don’t need to bail any of them out of jail tonight.”

johnny laughs. “if anyone’s going to jail tonight, it’s you. you’re too sexy to be walking around like this, baby.” you roll your eyes as johnny shuts the door and jogs to the driver side.

the two of you take off after johnny seatbelts himself in.

“cheers!” you squeal as you clink your long shot glass with the group of girls.

“nononono,” you whine when your shot glass is gently pulled away from you. “that’s too many shots tonight. especially for you since you’re a light weight.”

you pout and cross your arms. “i’m barely drunk! i’m like 2/4ths drunk.” you slur a bit. “sounds drunk to me.”

“please,” you scoff. “i’ve only had two cans and three shots.”

“yeah and those two cans took you an hour and a half to finish them.” johnny sets down the shot glass. “your point?”

johnny puts his hands on his hips—typical dad pose.

“it’s time for us to go home.” you whine and the girls join you. “we were supposed to be home two hours ago but you insisted we stay a few more minutes.”

“it’s halloween, john! loosen up!” taeils wife says while holding up a shot glass to you. “for real, johnny! don’t worry, dude—you’ll make it home in time to fuck your hot wife.”

you giggle with the girls at johnnys face and wrap your arms under his.

“i wanna fuck my hot wife when she isn’t heavily intoxicated.” johnny says, grabbing your ass under your skirt and then moving his hands up to your waist.

you whine once more and push yourself off johnny. “fine,” you fix his purple blazer with a pout. “we can go home since you’re that horny.”

johnny laughs, “sure, baby.”

johnny drags you to the car and buckles you in with reassurance and kisses. he settles himself in and drives off.

“wanna stop at a 7/11 so we can get some snacks for the drive home?” the drive home was approximately 45 minutes, taeil just had to buy a $3M house on the north side.

“mmm no, i have alcohol in my system and we’re driving—and that’s already not a good mix. but, if you want to get something, you can and i can feed you your snack so we don’t get pulled over.”

johnny laughs, slapping his hand on your thigh and rubbing the spot with his thumb after.

“it’s okay, baby. and, you’re right; beer and driving doesn’t mix well. don’t drink and drive.”

you sigh, “i think i can actually go for something to snack on.” johnny chuckles and makes a turn, driving to the nearest 7/11 and grabbing snacks.

“you got tuna kimbap?” you sort through the bag while johnny drives out the parking lot. “i got two.” johnny holds up a quick peace sign.

“mmm and you got some chocolate mochi balls on a stick?! oouuu! you even got some sweet potato chips!” you whine and pull out the treats.

you rip open the packaging of the chocolate mochi balls and you grab a stick. you yank one of the mochis and smack on the soft chewy dough. “want one?”

johnny looks at what you have in your hand and opens his mouth while his eyes stare at the road. “ahhh,” you say while johnny inhales the last two mochi.

“oh,” you stare at the stick. “oh, i’m sorry.” johnny muffles and laughs. “it’s okay, we have two more sticks.” you place the stick back into the packaging.

you grab the bag of sweet potato chips and you rip open the bag. “mmm, these ones are so crisp!” you nod and look in the bag, finding a nice big piece and plopping it in your mouth.

“me too, me too!” johnny says ahh and munches on the stack of potato chips you placed on his tongue.

as you continue to feed your husband, you realize the mess on his lap. “babe, you’re such a messy eater.” you brush away the crumbles.

johnny smirks and grips the steering wheel. “hmm, somebody’s excited.” you giggle and lightly squeeze the outline of his angry bulge. “and what for, hm?”

“i think you know what for.” you look at his phone, the maps app was open and it was directions on how to get home.

twenty minutes until home.

“this tesla can go autopilot, right?” johnny snickers at the way you asked the question. “we just got this car last week, my love. i’m not gonna risk it yet. not just yet.”

“next week?” there’s hope in your voice. “okay, sure, baby. next week.” johnny giggles.

you bite your lip and fiddle with his belt. “sooo,” you tilt your head and tug on his belt. “no autopilot…but, you didn’t say i couldn’t give you head while you drove us home?”

“you’re absolutely right about that, baby.” johnny glances at you and smiles. “you’re so smart.”

you undo johnnys belt and his pants. he lifts his hips a bit to give you some help on removing his jeans.

“i still can’t get over how lucky i am.” johnny scoffs as you press kisses on his tip. “i know, i’m a great catch.”

you fist him with two hands and smear the oozing precum. “and your dick is amazing.” you mumble before wrapping your mouth around his tip.

“oh shit,” johnny sighs and drops his heavy hand on your head.

you whine and push his hand off.

you’re a grown women, you don’t need assistance giving head. in this moment at least. winky face, winky face.

you moan and swirl your tongue around his tip. johnny curses loudly when you fondle his balls.

johnnys long and girthy, he knows he is. he’s proudly acknowledged that his wife chokes and gags on his dick and isn’t ashamed of it. so, when you force yourself down his shaft, tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“baby,” johnny pets your head. “baby, calm down.” you lift your head and use the back of your palm to wipe your lips. “don’t force yourself, it’s okay, baby. take your time.” johnny wipes your tears and kisses your lips.

you grab him by his base and retry but this time taking your time working down his dick.

while you work with johnnys length and girth, johnny notices your pretty ass in the air, swaying left and right. so, he lifts your skirt and gives you a few harsh spanks.

with tears dripping onto johnnys thighs, you still manage to fit his cock halfway down your throat before you’re pushing yourself off and gasping for air.

“good job, baby. you’re doing so good.” johnny wipes your cheeks, smearing your makeup as he does.

“i’m sorry,” you giggle when seeing his dick all messy with your red lipstick all over it and saliva slowly dripping down the sides of it. “i got a little messy.”

you don’t even notice when johnny pulls into the driveway until he puts the car in park.

“i love it when you’re messy. it turns me on so fucking much.” johnny pulls you in for a kiss, it turns heated and sloppy quickly.

“c’mere,” johnny lifts you out from the passenger side and drops you in his lap.

“uh,” you look back at the steering wheel and at johnny. “wanna push your chair back a little? it’s kind of crowded over here.”

you and johnny laugh while johnny pushes his chair back. “butt too big?” johnny pushes you on him and spanks you harshly that a moan fills johnnys ears.

“wanna just move to the back?” johnny suggests when feeling his legs cramp. “that’s a better idea.” you laugh and crawl to the back with johnny following.

you straddle johnny when he’s seated in the middle of the backseat.

“fuck, you sound so sexy.” johnny says while rubbing your ass.

johnny pulls your skirt to the side and rubs your pussy through your thong before pulling that aside as well.

“how’re we feeling tonight? eager or wanna take our time?” johnny asks, rubbing your clit with his fingers.

“eager,” you moan.

“that’s perfect.” you gasp as johnny pushes your hip down so that your cunt swallows him.

it was only the tip and you were already tensing up. “slow?” you nod, body shaking as you attempt to adjust to johnnys size.

even after birthing two human out of your vagina, johnnys size was still hard to adjust to. a lucky women you were.

“fuck,” you softly cry out when johnny bounces your hips.

your hand quickly grabbing his wrist and squeezing it tightly. “you okay, baby?” you nod, holding your breath.

“i just have to adjust—like usual.” you chuckle and slowly drop your hips, letting out a long hiss.

johnny has his hands on your hips, guiding you and reassuring you that you’re fine and that you’re doing amazing.

after settling for a few minutes, you give johnny a kiss and stare him down. “are you ready now?” you nod and giggle.

johnny smacks your ass and lifts your hips, rolling them down and repeating. “you’re so beautiful.” johnny says.

you kiss him and sit yourself up, letting johnny bounce your hips as you undo your top. “fuck,” johnny laughs and rolls his eyes when seeing your breasts drop in his face.

johnnys hands release your hips and attach themselves to your breasts. you giggle at his reaction and begin moving your hips on your own.

you moan loudly when feeling johnny nibble on your left nipple. his thumb rubbing the other in circles and sometimes giving them little pinches and tweaks.

you roll your hips and eager chase for your orgasm. moaning out loud and pulling on your husbands long locks.

johnnys cock being tugged and hugged tightly by your walls. “have i ever told you that i love your tits?”

“our first date.”

johnny laughs and buries his face in your breasts. it was like heaven with billions of the worlds best and most comfortable pillows around him.

“fuck,” you cry out and tighten your walls and thighs.

johnny releases your breasts and hugs your waist, holding you still and fucking himself into you. your little skirt bouncing with his thrusts.

johnnys pretty moans and grunts filling up the car along with your moans as johnny fucks you through your orgasm.

your tight walls clinging onto johnnys dick as he slides into you without any worries or problems. the sound of wet and skin slapping and meeting blend with the sounds of both you and johnnys moans.

johnny was very vocal during sex—praising you for every little thing you did, moaning when he felt the littlest bit of pleasure.

and johnny would tease you for being the loudest, as if.

johnny lets out a broken grunt when slamming his hips once more before freezing and staying still. his hips pushed up into yours while he forces his load inside you.

johnny pants out loud while slowly lowering his hips and holding his fucked out wife, you, to his chest.

sweat melting down his temples and nose, his makeup running with the sweat. your pigtails all messed up and lipstick smeared all over your mouth area.

“oh, puddin’.” johnny sighs with a big grin.

johnny lifts his head. “happy halloween, baby.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs your hips.

“it’s passed halloween,” you mumble and lift your head. “it’s november, baby. that means no nut november.” johnny laughs and shakes his head. “we failed didn���t we?” you nod and kiss his jaw.

after sitting for a few more minutes, just sitting in silence and making out like teenagers in the backseat of your car.

“ready to go inside, baby?” you nod and slide yourself off johnnys lap.

you and johnny clean up a bit before sneaking inside.

“i’m gonna go start us a shower, m’kay?” johnny presses a kiss on your head before tip toeing upstairs.

you go check on min jung who’s sound asleep in his crib with a bottle and haechans favorite stuffed brown bear next to him.

you leave the room and get jump scared by a tall figure. “misses suh?” it’s a soft voice. “chenle? what’s wrong, honey?” you cup the teens face and examine him in the dark.

“i thought i heard something but it was just you, i’m sorry.” you ruffle the sleepy boys hair and guide him to haechans room where everyone is scattered everyone and all asleep.

chenle stops after taking a step into the room. “misses suh?” you hum, holding onto the door handle. “i saved you some candy bars, it’s in the kitchen for you.”

you smile, “thank you, chenle. you’re a sweetheart. now get some rest, i’m sure you’re exhausted from trick or treating.”

chenle nods and joins jisung on the floor and under the sheets.

you shut the door and join johnny, briefly explaining to him about what happened with chenle before going for another round in the shower.

that’s an amazing way to end off halloween.

AN| happy halloween, my loves! i now i’ve been inactive but i’ve been so busy on the outside of tumblr. i love and miss you guys so so much! please be careful trick or treating (if you guys still go because me and sneakylink are planning to go HAHSKSJ). also, be careful at parties! >:c

AAN| i didn’t know whether it was “jen the babysitter” or a

love you guys! 🩷

[harrygoeswest]

Infatuation On A Mutual Level

You and Harry are housemates and are both secretly quite fond of one another.

A/N: Woooo she’s here!!! I loved writing this one shot a lot and I really hope it shows. I haven’t had motivation to write for ages and this year I’ve really come back to it and I’m so happy. I hope you all love it as much as I do. She’s special to me. Special mention to the only person who ever wants to read for me @all-things-fic​ <3 Please come tell me what you think afterwards!! Katie x

Trigger Warnings: sexual content, brief mentions of loss, nightmares

Word Count: 18,777

~.~.~.~.~

Now

Every morning was the same.

The creak from the only bed on the first floor began the day. Then the gush of the tap in the shared bathroom. The kettle in the kitchen on the ground floor. The door closing when George left for the day. Then again 15 minutes later when Rhys did. Abbie starting the shower immediately afterwards now her boyfriend was gone. And then the only thing that ever made your skin prickle:

Harry’s door opening.

Every morning you would roll over at the sound, away from it. God forbid the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ ever pinned you with that warm, green-eyed stare first thing in the morning through the open gap of your own bedroom door. No, you might never be able to survive such a thing.

Living in a shared house was hard. Not least because you felt responsible for the place itself; owned by your single dad who would do anything to bring in what income he could, including taking more rent off his eldest child than he’d like. An argument arose regularly over your living situation but it was hard enough filling the fourth bedroom with a tenant. Living in the third was the least you felt you could do. The building was in dire need of some TLC but it wasn’t exactly an affordable fete. Sometimes the ceiling leaked on the second floor when it rained thanks to some shabby scaffolding work a few years back; the main reason why it was so hard to let the fourth bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to.

It was also hard in a house share because people were messy and you had a horrendous phobia of general mess. If you could quit your job and play full-time housekeeper you absolutely would. But your dad wouldn’t allow that. “Not in my lifetime,” He’d say with the gentlest scowl.

But the hardest part, by far, was being in such close proximity to the man who rented the bedroom across the hall. You weren’t sure why you were so terrified of him. Scarred by your original encounter with him, perhaps, but he wasn’t actually scary. He was, rather annoyingly, the nicest person in the house. Constantly aloof, yes, but still the poster boy for gentlemen everywhere.

Maybe if you spoke to him you’d learn he’s just a normal bloke, your inner voice trilled.

“Shut the fuck up.” You hissed into your pillow.

You waited for the inevitable sputter of the shower starting up again, and then rolled out of bed, threw on the clothes you’d hung up on the wardrobe door the night before - clean white shirt and grey trousers, ironed within an inch of their life - and scurried downstairs to arrange your usual to-go breakfast. Coffee in a reusable cup and a cereal bar. Hair and makeup could be fixed at work. You were always thirty minutes early anyway.

~

Harry wasn’t sure how you managed it. How every day you managed to evade him to avoid a puffy-eyed “good morning” or a potentially awkward conversation over breakfast.

As he stood in the hallway between your bedrooms towelling his hair dry in nothing but a pair of boxers and a damp t-shirt, he stared into your bedroom and marvelled yet again at how you seemed to have managed to keep it tidied to a borderline compulsive degree.

A large king bed sat against the left wall with ironed white linens and a plush sunflower yellow throw draped across the foot. One lone bedside table tucked against the right side with a tasselled muted green 60s velvet lamp and a book resting atop. A picture hung above the headboard - some vibrant canvas of abstract art. Every morning he wondered if you’d painted it yourself. Against the opposite wall stood a tall regal-looking cherrywood wardrobe next to a matching dresser with a sleek TV on top. It was the most modern thing about the room. In the window overlooking the garden a dream catcher hung in the dead centre. It was the only nicknack you seemed to have, and part of him hated that it seemed like something negative. Something to catch nightmares, to ward off evil.

Did you have bad dreams? And if so, why?

As always, the window had been opened two inches to let in fresh air. You never closed your door, not even at night. You never had clothes left out. Clutter didn’t exist in your vocabulary. Dust wasn’t permitted in your room. Or the bathroom, or kitchen, or living room, he’d deduced. You took Wednesdays off in the week and cleaned when no one else was home to bother you. He doubted the others had picked up on these things about you, but he’d noticed.

Harry had noticed a lot about you.

Especially that in the mornings, you waited until he took his bathroom time to get ready for work and leave without having to run into him. Some chaotic part of him wanted to change his routine so you’d have to. He wanted to know what you looked like straight out of bed with puffy eyes and linen marks on your cheeks and hair in disarray. The other part of him, the gentleman, told him not to. Who knew what might happen if he threw your routine off kilter.

Distress, probably?

No. He wouldn’t be having that.

Shaking his head, he wandered into his own room and shut the door behind him. One day the puzzle of you would finally form a complete picture. Today, he settled for the tethered, jumbled segments he’d managed to collect this far.

~

You stared at your phone, face a picture of bewilderment. Deciphering text messages from the housemates was starting to get increasingly difficult, no thanks to the fact that you were shit at it and everyone else seemed to excel.

Blackpool Tower

🌚 👰🏼❌🧽🍽️🔄

🌝 🙈🖕🏼

👰🏼 😕

Translation: Abbie George didn’t wash his dishes again.

Rhys Oh for fuck’s sake.

George Whoops.

You were on a roll with the emojis. It had started as a joke because George had said he hated people who only used emojis to text each other rather than actual words, so for a week the four of you had sent every text using only emojis. Then it had turned into a bet: how long could all of you go without using words, and who would be the first one to crack. You all knew that, without a doubt, Rhys would crack first, even though he was the one who’d proposed the bet in the first place. It had been two weeks and no one had cracked yet.

🍉 🤔👰🏼🥄🥄🍱🔄

👰🏼 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😠

🌝 😒🙄

🌚 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

👑 ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

Translation:

Harry Maybe George should cook dinner again…

George HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no.

Rhys Yeah right.

Abbie No thank you.

You Absolutely fucking not.

Why did all of you have such ridiculous headers?

Abbie and Rhys were the twin moons because that was the look they always gave each other when they thought something was cute, funny, interesting, or otherwise. They’d moved into the house as a couple and had remained in said couple for 3 years. Sharing a room was their way of saving money to buy a house. It made sense.

George was a blonde bride because he was the most outwardly gay man any of you had ever known and often acted like an utter madam. Madam was actually George’s nickname to his friends now thanks to the house’s light ribbing. He had also chosen his own emoji.

Harry was the watermelon because we were never without it thanks to a frankly concerning obsession. If there wasn’t a watermelon in the fridge, or slices, or packaged chunks, something was very wrong.

And you were the crown because you’d refused to pick an emoji and the house had affectionately bestowed the title of Tower Queen to you. You’d pretended to hate it, but they all knew you viewed it as the highest compliment.

Oh, and the group chat was called Blackpool Tower because you lived together in a tall, two-rooms-to-a-floor townhouse at the top of town. The Eiffel Tower had been suggested but George immediately pointed out that we were not a classy enough bunch to live in such a fine establishment. I’d told him to speak for himself.

The talk of food made you hungry, and it hit you like a landslide that you hadn’t had any dinner. You rolled off your bed and sent a text to Blackpool Tower, then shoved your phone away.

~

Multiple things happened at once. The shower turned on in the bathroom; your bedroom door opened with a quiet creak (which would not happen again since you went through WD40 like a bee in pollen); Harry’s phone vibrated with another text.

Blackpool Tower

👑 👩‍🍳🍝 … 🌚🍝🌝🍝🍉🍝➡️🧊 … ❌🍝👰🏼

Harry snickered.

Translation: You Making dinner. Leftovers in the fridge. None for George.

It wasn’t unusual you’d make enough food for everyone. Harry had learned that you’d picked that trait up from your dad. Sometimes no one would stop you, especially since there was never anything wrong with a meal you’d cooked. In fact, if there were a restaurant with food cooked by you, Harry would dine there every night. But he also knew that letting you cook for all the other housemates all the time wasn’t fair.

🌚 🍉➡️🍉❌🍉➡️🍉❌👑

👰🏼 🚫🚫🚫🚫

“For fuck’s sake.” He muttered.

Rhys must have been in the shower. If George or Abbie were home they’d have rugby tackled you to the floor given the chance.

Harry abandoned his phone and lurched out of his room, down the stairs to the kitchen. He nearly stacked it twice but he made it, with panting breaths to accompany him.

You turned your gaze on him with a startled look, giving him a once over. “What are you doing…?”

“Don’t you dare cook for everyone else.”

You blinked twice and then rolled your eyes. “It’s fine - I’ve got plenty.”

“It’s not fair.”

“If I don’t cook it today it’ll go off. So might as well.”

Harry looked at the produce you’d piled on the counter and back at you, then back again. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You bought enough for everyone.” He straightened and folded his arms across his chest.

You spluttered and scoffed for far too long. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t stop me.” You scowled at him.

It was the most emotions he’d ever seen on you. If he’d known all this time that all he needed to do to get a conversation out of you was wind you up a bit, he’d have done it much sooner.

“Yes I can.”

You put a hand on your hip. Christ. “How?”

He stared at you, statuesque and cursing himself for challenging a bet he couldn’t win. You were right. How would he stop you? He wasn’t going to drag you away from the kitchen and up the stairs without your permission. Hell, he didn’t want to do anything without your permission, threats begotten. He hadn’t thought this through.

You let out a breath, a mocking one, and turned away from him and picked up a knife to start chopping. “Didn’t think so.”

“You can’t do this forever.”

Chop.

“Do what?” You challenged, refusing to look at him again.

Chop chop.

“Look after every person that comes in here because you feel like you owe people something. The world will take advantage of you. Is that what you want?”

Your shoulders visibly tensed over the words that tumbled out of his mouth. They weren’t even spoken with malice. They were soft and cautious.

CHOP.

“This feels like a very deep conversation to be having on a Tuesday evening.”

He growled, frustrated. “Stop babying everyone.”

Chopchopchop.

“If they didn’t want me to baby them they simply wouldn’t let me. And maybe I like babying people. Sometimes it’s nice to have a responsibility.”

“That’s just it, though. They’re not your responsibility.”

You smacked the knife down on the chopping board and turned to face him, an unfamiliar anger in your eyes that muddled with something else murky and grey. Hurt. “Will you just let me cook my fucking dinner in peace?”

Harry stood, tense, staring at you with his fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he said, “Fine. But you’ve got to let me help you.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Harry.” Your head lolled back.

“Two different people, but I appreciate why you might get confused.”

You stared at him for an indecipherable length of time. Or gawked might have been a better descriptor. And then you snatched the tea towel off the side and smacked it in a whip-like movement against his arm. “Git.”

~

Two weeks later and you and Harry had begun a sort of ritual; you would cook with each other every other night. The distinct difference was that when you bought food, you bought enough for everyone. When Harry did it he only bought enough for the two of you.

You hadn’t quite figured out yet if being in this new… friendship with Harry was better or worse. Cooking together four nights a week versus blissful ignorance towards him and his attractiveness? The now near-constant proximity to him was making your head spin for stupid reasons. Namely said attractiveness.

His biceps for one. No one should be allowed arms that had the ability to make one’s mouth water. Pair his strong muscles with the litter of tattoos that were drawn down his right arm and you’d found yourself sweating even on the coldest day. A man’s body should not have such a strong effect on a person, yet here you were - a swoon personified.

Then there was his face, which was worse. Eyes mouth jaw. Those three things individually on a man were the first thing that always drew you in, but Harry had a triple threat. Seaglass green, blush pink and the perfect 100 degree angle. Not too square. And to top it all off, a wispy mop of chestnut waves atop his big head.

The perfect man?

“Aye,” Harry took the knife off you before you started chopping an onion, “thought we established that needed sharpening. A blunt knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.”

A man who cared about your wellbeing?

His bedside manner could use some work.

“Fuck off.” You whispered to your inner voice.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, cheeks burning. Great, he probably thought you were crazy.

You silently passed Harry the stone out of the drawer. He could sharpen it if he was going to make such a big deal out of it.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, and started swiping the edge of the knife along the full length of the stone.

Chalky noises. Sharp noises. Furrowed brow. Biceps flexing. Obscenely attractive. Abort abort abort.

You busied yourself by turning on the hob and drizzling oil into a pan. Basically looking anywhere but at Harry and his arms. Sexy arms.

Sex on legs.

Your legs were wobbling. A flame of burdened heat licked its way between your thighs and you had to lean against the counter to stop from buckling. It had been a long time since a man had touched you.

Yeah. This was worse. Definitely worse. Hyper-awareness of everything going on around you wasn’t unusual, but being hyper-aware of everything Harry did was like some unfound form of torture. There was being attracted to someone and then there was whatever this situation was.

Ridiculous?

It was ridiculous, but at least you could suffer knowing that your inner voice had been wrong. Harry was not a normal bloke. He was some kind of enigma.

~

For the past couple of nights Harry had kept his door open. He’d learned that you did indeed have nightmares regularly so the dreamcatcher you kept in your bedroom window was doing little for your unconscious mind. He’d debated buying a bigger one for you but wasn’t entirely sure how appropriate that would be.

You weren’t loud. In fact, if he hadn’t kept his door open he never would’ve known, because the ajar-ness of his door had come prompted for completely different reasons - that unusual urge to see you first thing in the morning. Now two nights in a row he had been woken up by your little yelp, followed with a hissed string of curses while shifting around your bedsheets to get comfortable again. As soon as he knew you were asleep, he wasn’t too far along after you.

He still hadn’t been able to decide if cooking with you nearly every night was a good thing or a bad thing. While he never failed to enjoy himself during your bi-nightly kitchen sessions, he hated separating from you afterwards. It wasn’t enough. The persistent nearness of you for an hour or so only to be followed by a later severance was almost painful. The bedroom door being left open was just another attempt at trying to get closer to you.

He knew it was you in the bathroom because you took longer than everyone else. Not because you were using up all the hot water but because you used it as an excuse to give it a thorough clean. Being able to hear everything going on in the house was both a gift and a curse, but Harry wasn’t attuned to all the tenants. Only you.

Five minutes later the bathroom door opened, and you plodded up the two flights of stairs. He knew the way all the stairs creaked, and you were going at nothing more than a leisurely pace. He caught a glimpse of you as you passed, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The scent of strawberries and jasmine wafted through the gap in his door after you.

Harry’s phone vibrated.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 Friends coming over tomorrow night for drinks 🍻 we’ll behave

👰🏼 You idiot

🌚 RHYS

🌝 NOOOOOOOOOO

🍉 Pay up dipshit

🌝 😭😭😭

A few minutes later Harry got a notification to say he’d received a £10 payment into his bank account.

~

Then

The cold had crept in again. Not from the weather - it was warm at night. This was a different kind of cold. The sweaty kind that kept you up at night. Medication had kept the nightmares away for some time but now you were locked in the house for the foreseeable future you couldn’t bear the idea of being constantly dimmed down by it in front of your housemates.

Last night was the first time you’d had a nightmare in close to a year and it was just as terrifying as it used to be. Some traumas just wouldn’t leave you be. You’d taken a couple of painkillers to numb your headache and they’d graciously knocked you out for another few hours and brought you right on through to 8am. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept that late. With everyone at home all the time now, it seemed no one wanted to get out of bed.

You had a job to do today, anyway. The room next to yours had finally been rented, so you’d been tasked with giving it a proper clean before the new tenant arrived this evening.

You did need to eat, but before that you wanted to get the window open in there to coax some fresh air in.

Hauling yourself out of bed, you meticulously tidied your room the same you did with every morning, dressed in clothes appropriate for cleaning, and took the short step across the hall to the other room.

The door was closed which was unusual. You always left the doors to the empty rooms open with a wedge so they wouldn’t get stuffy from disuse. Maybe you’d opened the window yesterday and forgot? Had the wind closed it for you?

Shrugging to yourself, you opened it anyway.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, “fuck, shit, sorry.”

Inside, collapsed face down on the bed dressed with only a sheet was a man, near-naked in only a pair of boxers. You couldn’t see much of his features bar a mop of chocolate curls, a heavily tattooed arm, and a particularly nice arse beneath his pants.

He lifted his head, complete with a gorgeous profile, and peeled open an eye. A very green, beautiful eye. He made a confused, questioning noise.

The room was full of belongings, so this must be the new tenant and not some homeless person who’d managed to sneak in without anyone realising. At least you hoped.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were moving in later today. Sorry.”

“Friday.” He managed. A sleep-coated, groggy and somewhat delirious voice. It was delicious. You wanted to taste it.

“What?”

“Friday was moving day.”

“Yes. Today.”

“No. Yesterday.”

You looked at your phone. “Christ. I’m sorry. Isolation is getting to me. You don’t care. I’m sorry. I’m interrupting your sleep. I’ll go. Sorry.”

You pulled the door closed before you could embarrass yourself any further, and then hid yourself in the bathroom out of sheer embarrassment.

If you never saw that marvellous-looking man again it would be too soon.

~

Now

Harry often thought about that first day.

Morning. Just after dawn. Early summer sun casting you in gold. Tiny shorts. Faded creaseless t-shirt. Sleepy face messy hair.

He hadn’t seen you anything of the sort since and he craved it like an addict did cocaine.

A pandemic had ruined many things for many people, and the most recent ruin back then had been Harry’s longest relationship. That’s what had brought him to a double bedroom in a shared house rather than a flat and his own fucking space. He couldn’t afford the latter.

It had been hot that night, moving into a new home in the darkness. He’d picked up the key from the owner, your dad it had turned out, and transferred his possessions from one place to another in the late night simply to avoid having to discuss his situation with people he didn’t know.

But yes, the heat is what had caused him to strip down to his underwear before passing out. The startled look on your face at the sight of him had absolutely been worth it. The sight of you had been worth it. Such a strong attraction to someone fresh after a breakup should be wildly inappropriate, but there you suddenly were, bare-legged and dangling yourself in front of him like a piece of string to a kitten. Still, the fact remained that Harry liked to think himself a gentleman. He tried to be a gentleman, and after living so close to you for so long, it didn’t take long to learn that you liked to keep to yourself. So he had done the same.

Until now, apparently.

“That housemate of yours here?”

Harry’s ears pricked up at the question like a cat’s would if it heard something interesting. He recognised the voice and hated the speaker. He always had. Today was no exception.

“Which one? I’ve got three of ‘em if we don’t include Abbie.” Rhys’s oblivious laughter filtered up the stairs to the sanctuary of the top floor.

“Well I ain’t talkin’ about the lads, am I?”

Harry shivered. He imagined if you could hear them then you would too.

“She’s here”, “Don’t bother,” came simultaneously from Rhys and Abbie. Abbie sounded almost defensive, and that pleased Harry to no end.

“Why not?”

“Because she isn’t interested.”

“Maybe you should let her decide that for herself.”

Unconsciously, Harry rose from the desk in his room and made his way across the hall to yours. The door was open, obviously.

You were sitting up with a book but you had earplugs in. Whether it was playing music or just to block out the noise from downstairs he wasn’t sure. As soon as you spotted him a small smile curved on your lips, and you pulled an earplug out. It was playing music.

Harry had never met anyone who could listen to music and read at the same time. There were surely plenty, but this put you in the Elite Tier in his head.

“What’s up?”

Footsteps began on the stairs, and Harry threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder before he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, sliding the lock across.

You were leaning forward now, a crease in your brow. “What’s going on?”

“Rhys’s friends are here.”

You blinked. “I know.”

“Yes but his idiot friends are here.”

You tipped your head. “I’m not following.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know… Gaz? The one with the teeth.”

“Oh. Right. Why not? He’s harmless, no?”

“Is he? I’m not so sure.”

Your name suddenly trilled from the floor below. “You home?”

You looked at the door as Harry moved to the side, dumbfounded. Harry shook his head at you when you began to move.

Why not? You mouthed.

Harry pretended to drink from an invisible glass and grimaced.

The idiot called your name again and knocked on the door. “Come on, come say hi.”

Harry was really scowling now. You flashed glances between him and the door multiple times.

“She’s probably asleep, mate!” Rhys hissed from outside the door. “She works early some Saturdays.”

That was not true. You’d never worked weekends, not even as a teen. It was Rhys’s smart ruse to get him to back off.

The door handle jostled. Harry suddenly looked more threatening than a mafia boss, and your jaw fell slack from shock.

“Oi,” smack, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What? Worth a shot.”

“No it fuckin’ weren’t, go downstairs.”

Some heated muttering commenced, but neither you nor Harry moved or spoke until you were satisfied they wouldn’t hear anything.

“Did he seriously just try and get in here?”

“While you were ‘sleeping’?” Harry air-quoted around the word. “Yes. He did. Hence the distrust.”

“What the fuck…”

He watched you for a moment and the look on your face said it all. You were upset, in a confused sort of way. Your mind was somewhere else, no longer in this room. Eyes glassy and breathing shallow.

Someone had tried to come into your personal space while they had the impression you were sleeping. If that had been the case there was no telling what would’ve happened. If Harry hadn’t come in you probably wouldn’t be any the wiser to Rhys’s friend’s real character, and that was what scared him. You had a tendency to put too much faith in people as just people. If someone was being nice to you that must mean that they are nice.

“What are you reading?” He asked into the silence, not only to break the quiet but to pull you out of the trance you’d been in.

“Oh, er,” you looked down at the book in your lap and turned it upwards, flashing the cover to him, “some daft romance.”

You put it aside after slotting the bookmark inside to keep your place. He smirked to himself. God forbid you dogear a page.

“Happy ending?”

You nodded, playing with your loose earbud. “Yeah. Has to be.”

“They’re my favourite.”

You gawked at him then. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that so shocking?”

You laughed musically. “I don’t know… I kind of assumed a guaranteed happy ending would irritate you or something.”

“Not at all. Sad endings are rubbish.”

“Aren’t they?” You patted the bed by your lap, suddenly animated. “I hate them.”

“Me too.”

“What are they for? No one wins, everyone is miserable, and someone has almost always died in the middle.”

He folded his arms, brows furrowed in a mock defence. “Now who hurt you? Tell me. Who do I need to beat up?”

“John Green.”

Harry scoffed. “He’s the worst.”

“Paper Towns? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Load of shit.”

“Exactly!”

He grinned, relaxing his posture. A commotion began downstairs, and he turned over his shoulder towards the door. Two phones dinged inside the room.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 🍻🍻➡️🌃➕👰🏼

You were being left alone. Thank God.

Harry met your gaze with a passive smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Wait…”

He raised a single brow at you. “Yes?”

“Why don’t we watch a movie? If they’re pissing off out…”

He was both surprised and elated by your suggestion. All he’d be doing otherwise was looking for flats to move into alone and listening to some murder podcast before passing out. Friday nights were raucous in one’s late twenties.

“Two movies.” He bargained. “One we can bitch about first, and then one we like to make ourselves feel better.”

Your returning smile was prizewinning. Priceless. “And… takeaway? I really don’t want to cook.”

He clicked and pointed a finger at you. “You’ve got yourself a deal, madam.”

~

This was a new low for you. Or perhaps it was a high - you hadn’t decided yet. Using the newfound common ground over a love of happy endings off the back of the fear of a mad man trying to let himself into your room to coax Harry into a movie night with you. In your room, no less. The house was empty yet you chose to suffer the shitty WiFi signal in your tower room because your bed was more comfortable than the communal sofa in the living room on the ground floor. The cold ground floor.

Now, after a shared pizza that was delivered in record speed, you and Harry lay parallel to one another as you batted bitchy comments between one another about the infuriatingly devastating plot of Atonement.

“I wanna smash her face into a wall.”

You nearly choked on your wine, and wiped a pre-existing tear off your cheek. “Harry,”

“What?” He whined. “Every time I get to the end and she tells the real story I see red. Why get people’s hopes up like that?”

His eyes were red around the rims.

You sat forward as the credits began to roll and looked at him with a timid smile. “Opinionated, aren’t you?”

He was draped across the left side of your bed closest to the door, legs crossed at the ankle and hands tucked behind his head against the headboard. He was close to slouched, but he looked so impossibly at ease you wanted to just nestle right into him.

You could do it. Nothing is stopping you.

You repressed a growl.

“Coming from you?” He retorted, amused.

Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. “What’s next?”

He pursed his lips and gave a thoughtful look towards the ceiling. “Notting Hill?”

You gasped. “Fuck yes. Do you fancy dessert?”

“Always. What have you got?”

“I picked up a chocolate trifle on the way home from work.”

“That sounds dirty as fuck.”

“It is dirty as fuck.” You agreed and stood from your bed. “I picked it up on the way home with the intention of eating it all by myself, but… I’m willing to share.”

“How kind.” Harry chuckled. You felt his gaze on you leaving the room.

Two minutes later you returned with an unwrapped trifle and two spoons. Harry had already found Notting Hill on one of the many subscription sites you paid for and had it paused right at the start. He sat up straighter as you settled back down, pressed play, and then the two of you sunk into cake and gooey chocolate layered beneath sweet cream.

“Is Hugh Grant too posh?” Harry asked between mouthfuls.

“Yes, but it suits him?” Your question pondered. “Like, I couldn’t imagine him with a Scouse or Georgie accent.”

Harry’s returning laughter was delighted, magical. “This would be a very different film if he did.”

You gave a gutterall, mischievous laugh. “I would like to see it.”

Once you’d spoiled yourselves with trifle you settled back down, two parallel figures unmoving in the dim room, except to drink wine.

Harry was an ominous presence beside you. Warmth radiated off him in languid rolls, beckoning to you like an evil sea siren. Your hands fisted on your stomach, muscles tense. It really was taking everything in you not to lean into him and inhale his scent. Let it lull you to sleep like a safety blanket.

Occasionally you peeked glances at him. If he’d noticed you he never said anything, and it made you brave. After so long the film became background noise and Harry was the real star. A black t-shirt across a flat, muscular chest, steady breaths causing a rise and fall. Black jogging bottoms that rose higher up his legs with each slight movement, showing more scrumptious leg hair per inch. Big, boney, veiny feet with heinously long toes. Hair taken off his face with a tiny claw grip, a little greasy around the ears.

The overwhelming need to shove your face into his armpit finally gave motive to look away. Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts meant nothing anymore. There was a sexy man sprawled across your bed who ate your trifle and wanted to watch stupid rom-coms with you.

You fell asleep before the end.

~

Harry was sure he was dreaming. It wasn’t possible, the situation he found himself in. It was what he wanted, what he had really wanted for a while now, but the actual possibility of it coming to fruition had been next to none. Zero. Impossible.

He’d woken up in your room. That was the first tell that he was still dreaming. Then he found a warm body curled around him, and him around them in return. Your warm body. Leg draped over his thigh, arm slung across his torso, head tucked under his chin, his arms around your shoulders and inhaling your strawberry shampoo.

You were both still on top of the covers, neither able to finish the movie without passing out. He’d even noticed you had nodded off first but he didn’t want to leave you without making sure you’d lock the door behind you again in case Rhys and his idiot friends returned.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. That was too accurate and not nearly lucid enough for an unconscious mind.

He didn’t want to move in case he stirred you, but he was desperate to see your face. Your beautiful, sleeping face. He refused to believe you’d cuddled up to him while conscious. Because it had been that way around - you were parked up on his side of the bed. His lips pricked upwards at the corners with that knowledge.

It was raining heavily outside. It fell against the window in loud smatters, the room cast in a dull grey tone. It made him want to squeeze you tighter, to keep you from any harm. He still refrained.

Eventually you woke. He could tell from the way your body tensed and your breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t freak out.” He mumbled, voice thick from lack of use.

You took in a deep, obvious breath. “No? Why not?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I think I do.”

“Explain, please.”

You hesitated, wetting your lips, and took in another deep breath. “I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“How?”

“I’ve put myself into your personal space without your permission.”

“You were unconscious.” He argued.

“Doesn’t make it any better. You should’ve run for the hills the second my foot touched your lovely hairy leg.”

Harry chuckled. He tightened his arm around you and brushed his nose through your messy hair. “Maybe I don’t mind you in my personal space. Maybe… I like it.”

“Do you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

He laughed again. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

You sat up and faced him.

Gah. There you were. Puffy eyes, cracked lips, scruffy hair. His stomach did a backflip at the sight of you - a dream he had nightly. In equal measure, he missed having the warmth and weight of your body against him.

“Don’t think about it too much.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Nothing needs to be complicated.”

You remained silent, either awestruck or dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure.

He stood, reluctantly, and pinched your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

That sorted you out. Your face rearranged itself into a scowl, gaze following him as he left the room. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but such a conversation felt too poignant for 8 o’clock in the morning. You needed space to let your thoughts take over.

~

Cooking dinner and movie nights. That had become yours and Harry’s thing. After he’d dropped what you considered a bombshell that he didn’t mind you in his personal space you’d had the longest shower of your life - accidentally using all the hot water - and then spent the morning face down on your bed trying not to scream into your pillow.

Since then you’d been obsessively cleaning, more so than usual by way of distraction from the man living across the hall. The house was spotless. You’d even cleaned the windows at one point, outside, with help from your dad and looked at a way to fix the leaking problem in the empty bedroom.

It still didn’t stop your mind from constantly drifting back to the other morning. Waking up curled around Harry like that had been both terrifying and utterly perfect. For a man with such a hard physique he’d been incredibly comfortable. Too comfortable. Then he’d said a number of things that threw your somewhat orderly brain into complete disarray and chaos.

“You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

Harry hadn’t seemed to take his own words lightly, either. He’d been more comfortable in closer proximity with you since that morning, in the little things like light touches to your arms and back while you cooked together, or a kiss on the top of your head before you disappeared into your room for the night. Some nights you would share a bed after a movie because it was just easier - you were already settled, and you always woke up cuddled against him like a fucking creep.

“This,” Harry said as he pulled the oven door open, a waft of heat filling the cold room, “is gonna be fuckin’ banging.”

“Mhm.” You quipped, shoving a tortilla chip into some salsa, and then into your gob.

It was a Saturday night. By a freak stroke of luck, all the other housemates had gone away for the weekend - George to his parents’ and Rhys and Abbie on a weekend break to Amsterdam. So, a dinner and movie night had been a given, but you’d stuck a portable heater in the communal living room downstairs, found as many blankets as you could and piled them onto the sofa, then queued up enough movies to last all night.

Harry’s carefully crafted pizza sat atop the stove, cooked to perfection with your favourite ingredients on one half and his on the other. Your mouth watered.

You carried everything into the lounge, set it all up on the coffee table, and pressed play on your first movie of the night.

It was civil while you ate, and you were admittedly starving. To Harry’s credit the pizza was delicious and you wished it was bigger because you could’ve eaten another. You filled the hole in your stomach with tortillas and salsa instead. He graciously took all the dirty plates back into the kitchen when you were done, and returned with two bowls of strawberries, raspberries, and of course, watermelon. It was a very healthy dessert but the watermelon looked seriously out of place.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me eat your watermelon.” You joked. “Feels like a sacred honour.”

He snorted but remained silent.

Eventually, after all the food and a couple of glasses of wine, you were horizontal, your feet in Harry’s lap. He had his hands locked around your ankle after you accidentally kicked him in the thigh.

“If you were in a rom-com, who would you want to play your love interest?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Hugh Grant.”

You giggled, turning your face into the sofa cushion. “90s or current Hugh Grant?”

“90s. Current Hugh Grant is into much more sophisticated roles that I don’t care for. Even if they are generally great films.”

“I see…” you mused.

He squeezed your ankle, a smile flirting on his lips. “No, I don’t know. Who’s queen of romantic comedies? Reese Witherspoon? J-Lo?”

“Oh my God, I love J-Lo.” Your voice was a dreamy, breathy sound.

“A fine woman indeed.”

“I love it when you talk like it’s the 1800s.”

He laughed so loudly it was almost a bark. “Noted. Who would you want to play opposite?”

“Sam Claflin.”

“The king of rom-coms.”

“Exactly. Very easy on the eye.”

Harry was smirking again. His hands were moving now, smoothing up and down your leg in easy strokes.

Thank fuck you shaved, you little scruffy bear.

You mentally flicked your inner tormentor behind her ear.

The film played on and held your attention for some time. You were possibly the most relaxed you’d been for a very long time. Not one muscle in your body felt tight.

Harry’s lackadaisical caressing continued, which you were still half-conscious of. It was nice to be touched that way - you don’t think you ever had been. You didn’t panic until you realised he’d been venturing just a touch further up your leg with every stroke; until his fingers tickled your thigh.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist, wrenched yourself upright.

Heat flooded your centre, slick and warm. It was so instantaneous it took you by surprise, and your cheeks burned, the tips of your ears warm.

His eyes were on you, wider than usual. “Sorry,” he tried to speak but it only came out in a whisper.

What is wrong with you, woman? You wanted this.

The inner tormentor was right. You had wanted it, and for quite some time. But the advance of it had taken you so completely off-guard that your body had reacted before your brain did.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Harry muttered, a furrow between his brow. He was angry with himself.

Finally you managed to shake your head. You managed to manoeuvre yourself by taking one leg - the leg he still had his hand on because you were keeping it there - off his lap and tucked it under itself. You pressed his palm flat against your skin, smoothing over each of his long fingers in turn, and met his intense gaze.

You were much closer now, faces and bodies mere inches from each other. You could feel his breath against your face, and you knew he could feel yours too from the way his eyelids fluttered with each exhale. Shiny eyelids, you noted.

He slowly closed the space to brush his nose upwards against yours, and your next exhale was much shakier.

“What are we doing?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.”

You wanted many, many things. And 99% of them involved him.

You licked your lips, and his gaze dropped to them at the action. Your stomach squirmed and your inner voice squealed with nerves.

Harry placed his other hand firmly on your hip and tugged, and you spilled over his lap, straddling him with your hands using his shoulders for balance. Another gasp fell out of you at the feeling of a certain something between your legs. A certain hard something.

“Is this okay?” He asked, both hands tentative on your thighs.

“Mhm.” You managed.

His hands spread wider, and you grew wetter, breathing heavier

He swallowed thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

All you could do was nod.

You noticed the beginning of a smile before his mouth was on yours. That mouth you’d thought of many times, at all hours, on all days of the week. And it was finally on yours, and perfect too. Soft, big, spongy. It felt like heaven against your own.

He took his time, leisurely testing the waters with you. What you would allow and what you wouldn’t. What you liked and what you didn’t.

You liked all of it.

His tongue was reverent as it eased your lips open, but thorough once you’d granted him access to you. He tasted like strawberry and watermelon, a delicious combination. A lethal combination.

His hands still smoothed over your thighs, reaching for your arse but never quite making it there. He didn’t want a repeat of the previous reaction from you.

You held onto him tightly, hands squeezing over his shoulders in an accidental but welcomed massage. You wanted to touch him everywhere but weren’t sure if he was okay with it.

“I never thought I’d be able to do this with you.” Harry’s voice was gruff, strained. He spoke against your lips.

“Neither did I.” You said breathily.

“Thought about it a lot.”

“Me too.”

He groaned into your mouth, hands rising to your hips and waist, tugging on your loose t-shirt.

You continued kissing, mouths bruising with lust, skirting around the removal of clothes. His arousal only got harder between your legs and it made you wriggle. Your wriggling caused friction, and the friction caused whimpers.

“I won’t last if you make noises like that.”

This information gave you immense satisfaction. He practically ate the smile off your face, and you wriggled again over the top of him. More whimpers, more movement. Back and forth, back and forth until you were utterly soaked inside your pyjama shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed.

“Harry,” you moaned, fisting his t-shirt at the chest.

“Keep going.” He practically begged.

You gave a frustrated noise and did as he said, rolling your hips over the length of his clothed shaft. Over and over and over again. Tits began to bounce. Back began to sweat. Toes began to curl.

Harry stripped you of your top and buried his face in your chest. Kissing, licking, sucking, bruising. A canvas of vivid colour. He dragged his lips across any inch he could, leaning forward, arching you backwards, just to access more. More more more.

Rolling, dragging, rolling and dragging your dampness against his erection. It was your sole focus. You needed it - the release you hadn’t felt for some time. You were always too nervous to masturbate with only two walls and doors separating you and Harry. You needed this more than anything else.

He held onto your back with one strong arm, hand gripping your waist while his other cupped your breast, and he took your nipple into his mouth without any further hesitation. Lick, suck, lick.

You squealed at the sensation, grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to yours. Faster faster faster you moved your hips and devoured his mouth until-

“Harry!”

Heat burst through your body, crashing through every cell, corner and crevice. You were tense as you came, clinging to Harry as tightly as possible. Then, as breath left you, you fell limp against him.

Harry stroked your hair and kissed your temple. His nose drew circles on your cheek.

When you pulled back, thoughts catching up to you, you looked confused.

“What?” He asked, head tipped to one side.

“This doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?”

“This,” you pointed between him and you.

“Why doesn’t it?”

“Because,” you gestured at him and then dropped your hands to your lap, “have you seen you?”

“Many times.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m serious, Harry. People that look like you aren’t interested in people who look like me.”

“What a horrifically outdated cliche.” He said in a flinchingly bored tone. “For the record, I think you’re bloody gorgeous. Have done since the day I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because I do! Life is too fucking short to let society dictate who is attractive enough to date who.”

You made a face, one where your eyebrows and your mouth stretched. “Yes, but-,”

“-No buts. I fancy the pants off you and that’s all you need to know.”

“Are you sure?”

He laughed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t have let you do what you just did if I wasn’t sure. Would I?”

“I don’t know… some men are pigs.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look,” he took your face in his hands, “some men are indeed pigs. But I like you. A lot. And I’ve had fantasies a hell of a lot like what we just did together for a damn embarrassing amount of time. About you. That’s all you need to know. Ever since I met you, I’ve been all about you.”

You pulled your lips between your teeth and stared at his chest, unseeing. Giddiness filled your tummy and white noise flooded your ears.

Harry picked up your hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. He watched you closely as he peppered kisses to your skin. “You’re thinking too hard, but I get it.”

“I think too hard about everything.” You mumbled. “Especially when it comes to you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know but I’ve always thought about you more than I’d like to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re very distracting.”

“Sounds like a compliment to me.” He said, and pecked your nose. “Shall we finish our movies and go to bed?”

Involuntarily, and as if prompted by the suggestion, you yawned. “Probably a good idea.”

Harry smiled, wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezed you tightly to his solid frame. “Let’s do it.”

~

Harry worked late a lot over the next week or so. He hated it mostly because it meant less time with you. Less conscious time, anyway. For the first few nights he’d come home to find you asleep and couldn’t bear the idea of accidentally waking you up, but after sharing a bed with you for so many nights now, it had been a hard drug to quit.

It was late now, well past midnight and you’d probably fallen asleep hours ago. But seeing you curled up and facing the window, sheets bunched up to your chin and face buried in your pillow, he couldn’t help himself.

He quietly stripped out of his clothes, save for his boxers, shut the door behind him and slid into bed beside you. He surrounded you with his warmth - arms around your middle and his face pressed between your shoulder blades. He tugged you backwards until your bodies were flush together, chest to back, and sponged a wet kiss into your shoulder.

You did rouse a little, giving out a soft, sleep-filled squeak. “Hi.”

He smiled, leaving another kiss closer to your neck. “Hi.”

“Wondered when you’d be back.” You said around a content sigh.

“And me.”

You giggled. You took a hand that clasped around your chest and brought it up to your lips. “Tried to stay awake for you but failed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

He littered more kisses against your skin, because he could just never get enough of you. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Yes sir.”

~

“You look different.”

You frowned, meeting your sister’s scrutinous eyes between washing a saucepan clean. You were washing, she was drying, like you always did. You didn’t trust her enough to actually clean the dirty tableware. Sometimes she didn’t properly dry things either, but you’d make the most of what you could.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “You’ve got a kind of… air about you.”

“Right…”

“Hey,” your dad appeared, nudging your sister’s arm, “maybe she’s got a boyfriend.”

Embarrassed heat filled your body.

“No, that’s not it.” Your sister shook her head. “Anyway, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“I don’t…” you didn’t know how to finish that.

Perhaps your many nights sharing a bed with Harry had been what she was talking about, but the label of boyfriend/girlfriend definitely hadn’t come up yet. You just liked each other. A lot. Add that to the fact that any night you shared a bed with him you didn’t wake up in cold sweats or choked screaming fits, it wasn’t exactly something you planned to stop doing any time soon.

“Oh my God, don’t overthink it like you do everything else. It’s a compliment. Take it.” She rolled her eyes.

“Aye, don’t be snotty.” Dad swatted your sister’s arm.

“I’m not!”

Your sister was younger than you, and for all eternity most definitely cooler. She was in school and that hadn’t changed into adulthood. It didn’t particularly bother you. Generally you got on very well, she just didn’t have a problem opening her mouth when she had an opinion.

“Anyway, don’t forget family dinner night. Next Friday?” Dad reminded you.

Ah yes. Family dinner night was not here at Dad’s house with just you and your sister. It was at the house with Dad, your sister, and all the housemates. George proclaimed it his favourite time of the month, because Dad, an ex-chef, always cooked. Harry, because of his often awkward shift work, was almost always absent.

“Okay.” You nodded.

After finishing your last dirty dish, you pulled your phone out.

Blackpool Tower

👑 ❌😃

Sometimes a text simply couldn’t be written exclusively in emojis, so you’d come up with a rule whereby if you needed to write one, you’d send a ❌😃 to alert them.

👑 Family dinner night next Friday. Be there or be square 💘

👰🏼 🤯🤩🤯🤩🤯

🌚 🎉🎉🎉

“You’re still doing the emoji thing?” Your sister asked with a narrowed gaze.

“We have another bet running to see who’ll crack first.”

“Right… will everyone come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“That’s me asking if Harry will be there, by the way.” She said with a smirk, nudging your arm.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be hot under the collar thinking she was onto you. The mention of his name got you flustered anyway, but you did know better. As any sensible woman would, your sister had a little thing for Harry that she’d never shied away from.

“I don’t know.” You repeated, somewhat irritated.

“Well, find out! Do I need to make an effort or not, you know?”

“I mean… he doesn’t usually come. So probably not.”

“Double check. To be safe. Or give me his number.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Bore.” She scoffed, and swished away.

~

Sundays were laundry day. Harry knew this, which is why he’d never do his on the same day. Everyone in the house knew that first thing on a Sunday morning you would head down to the basement with a book and a basket full and sit there until everything had been through the tumble dryer (unless it was delicate in which case you’d air it in your window for the day).

Today, though, Harry travelled from the top of the house to the very bottom and slipped inside the utility room, closing the door behind him before any of the other housemates could hear him.

“What are you doing?” You asked, voice light with laughter.

Harry’s gaze rested on you, full of some kind of infatuation. You were sitting atop the industrial-size tumble dryer in the far corner of the room, back against the wall and knees up, book held against your thighs.

He shrugged. “Wanted to come irritate you a bit.”

“You never irritate me.”

He grinned and put himself in your personal space. He found your bookmark and placed it between the pages, and then took it away, abandoning it. “Are you sure?”

You let him manoeuvre you; pulled you forward a little and spread your knees apart. Your legs fell over the side, resting either side of his hips, and your breathing quickened. He placed one hand on your thigh and the other stroked over your cheek.

“Feel free to interrupt laundry day any time you want.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You laughed at his mock genuine tone and brushed your fingertips against his lips. “You know, my sister has a massive thing for you.”

He stood quietly for a fraction of time, gaze assessing. “I would tease you about it but I just can’t. I kind of already guessed.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm. She’s not exactly subtle.”

“No, she’s not. She asked me for your number.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“What do you think?” You rolled your eyes.

He smirked. “You getting possessive of me?”

“Maybe. But she’s too self-absorbed to realise. She thinks I’m doing it because giving out your number willy nilly is morally wrong. Which it is. But yeah, I also just don’t want her to have it.”

His lips tightened, nose flared, eyes light - batting away a smile. “I think I like this side of you.”

You gave an uncharacteristic grunt, but your eyes never left him. “You look like a frog when you make that face.”

His face neutralised and he sucked in a breath. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

This visibly delighted you. “Maybe I’ll start calling you Froggy.”

“Too far.” He pinched your waist

You giggled, hands pressed against his chest. Your palms felt warm over his t-shirt and he never wanted you to take them away.

“How long left on your cycle?”

“Er…” your gaze dipped downwards to the screen on the washing machine. “Like, 20 minutes probably.”

“And then it’s going in the tumble dryer?”

“Yes… why?”

“Because,” he pecked your lips once, “I think I know,” he kissed your left cheek, “something we can do,” then your right cheek, “while we wait.”

Your gaze was curious and intense as he started sponging his lips down your front, from neck to chest to stomach. You reclined some, breathing heavy, and he pulled your legs up by the ankle and planted your feet back on top of the dryer.

“Oh,” you spoke, voice caught.

“You okay with this?” He asked hesitantly.

Even though you’d been sleeping side by side something close to 5 nights a week, your little dry humping session last weekend was as far as you’d gone in the sexual intimacy department.

You made a strangled noise. “Christ, yes.”

Grin fully spread across his face, he smoothed his palms up your thighs to your hips and tucked his fingers into the silky waistband of your pyjama bottoms.

“Can we take these off?”

You hummed an affirmed noise, and lifted your arse off the surface. In one smooth pull he had the garment off your legs and over his shoulder, probably in the same vicinity of the book he’d taken off you.

He met your gaze with a lifted brow. “Not a fan of knickers?”

“Not in my jim-jams, no.”

His smile blossomed like daffodils in spring. “That’s either the cutest or sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Can we go with sexy considering what I hope you’re about to do?”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

You squealed a little at the name, but he couldn’t tell if you loved it or hated it. Regardless, he kept a firm grip on your legs and lowered his lips to your knee. In a slow, measured movement, he kissed his way up the inside of your legs with his hot, wet mouth.

Your breath was laboured as you watched him, eyes wide when he met your gaze again but so incredibly keen. To prove it, you pushed a hand through his curls and massaged his scalp, coaxing him forward.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so fucking long.” He admitted, mouth dragging over the softest part of your thigh.

His hot breath fanned against your waiting lips and you visibly clenched.

“I’ve wanted you to, believe me.” Your voice was but a rasp.

“Yeah?” He sighed happily, left hand moving closer to your centre. He extended his thumb out, “Are you wet for me?” He pulled your lips apart, and the noise he made at the sight of you was practically carnal.

“Harry,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.

He hummed again, face inching closer to your dripping lips. He licked between you, wetness collecting on his tongue. The taste of you was something better than he could’ve ever imagined and he growled because of it. He gripped your legs tighter, hesitant no more, and buried his face right between your soft thighs.

“Oh, God,” you whined. Your head lolled backwards and both fists found purchase in his beautiful hair, twisting and tugging.

He grunted in response to you, spurred on. He collected as much of your juice as he could, firm stroke after firm stroke of his perfectly capable tongue.

He played with your clit in a way that made you squirm and squeal, eliciting the most delectable little noises out of your hoarse throat. Harry didn’t hold back - he never had in that department. He went for it completely and utterly.

The washing machine launched into rapid spinning, filling the room with wheezing, screaming noises.

“Harry, don’t stop.” You begged, body rigid with desperate tension.

He obeyed your every word. He spread your legs further and further with his digging grip. He burrowed his face into your cunt, tongue plunging inside of you and spading inside your heat like a desperate gardener.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you panted as you lifted your head again to watch him.

His eyes were already on you, dark and hooded and filled with keen lust. His head moved with an eager precision like his mouth did. He wanted you this way. He’d wanted it for so long he couldn’t quite believe he was getting it. You were a goddess, ethereal and perfect.

The washing machine’s cycle reached its peak, vibrating harshly beside the two of you. It was deafening yet the least bit distracting.

Harry pursued his advances on your cunt relentlessly and without breath until your body went rigid and then shuddered. You screamed his name, withholding nothing, any cries drowned out by the washing machine. Your body visibly vibrated like the machine beside you, and eventually your limbs weakened to jelly.

Harry stood straight and helped you sit up again, wrapping his arms around your middle. He tucked your head into his neck and twisted his face into your hair.

“You’re right, that was incredibly sexy.” He mumbled.

He revelled in your returning laughter, the sound light and airy. You showed no shame in clinging onto him, fingers raking through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Maybe you can do it again later.” You suggested, lips sponging against the skin on his neck.

“Any time you like.”

After another minute or so you pulled away, eyes scouring his face. “You’re a mess, sir.” You commented as you wiped your thumb around his shiny mouth.

He made a wordless noise, held your wrist, and took your thumb in his mouth. “I’ll be a mess for you.”

“Perhaps I’ll be a mess for you, too.”

His brows shot up and it made you laugh. “It’s cruel to joke about that.”

“I’m not joking.”

He gave you a challenging look.

“Want me to prove it?” You offered.

Was it even worth the question? “Always.”

You grinned. “Let me put my washing in the dryer and I will.”

He took a step back and bent at the waist, arms extending like he was bowing. “M’lady.”

You hopped down from where you’d been sitting and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Sir.”

~

The kitchen was a hive. And a mess. There was shit everywhere and your anxiety was through the roof just looking at it. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight because any kitchen your dad found himself in nowadays ended up looking like a pig sty but it didn’t settle the tightness in your chest.

He moved around the room with chaotic precision while you trailed after him tidying up any unnecessary mess, and your sister sat at the dining table Rhys and George had brought up from the basement an hour ago, scrolling through her phone.

“What about him?” Your sister flashed her screen to the two of you, the next Tinder profile filling it.

Your dad leaned over and squinted. “His eyes are too far apart.”

“Ugh. Knew you were gonna say that.” She grumbled.

This was a game you played regularly. Your sister would showcase potential Tinder matches either for her or for you (which you always declined to comment on), and your dad would garner his unfiltered opinion. It was probably a big part of the reason you were both still (technically) single. No one was ever good enough. That, and you didn’t have a Tinder account. Or any dating app account, actually.

“Him?” She flashed the next profile to you both.

Cute. But…

Not Harry.

Your inner tormentor smirked.

“What’s his anthem?” Dad knew all the terminologies now for the dating app world. He liked to call Hinge ‘UnHinged’, because that’s what the suitors on there usually were.

“Um… Wonderwall.”

You gagged, and Dad scoffed. “Next.”

You carried on for a little while, joining in when you felt like it but mostly just trying to keep the kitchen at an acceptable level of clean.

Rhys, Abbie and George were upstairs getting themselves ready for dinner as if it was some kind of gala they were about to attend. They did it everytime; dinner with Dad felt like an occasion. Harry wasn’t home and you hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask if he was going to be. He left at such a weird time this morning you couldn’t figure out what shift he was on and how that would affect his ‘home time’.

“Lay the table please, poppet?” Your dad asked of your sister, because he knew it was the only task she’d willingly do.

She leapt to her feet in a dramatic flurry and made for the cutlery draw. “Have we got enough for matching sets?”

“Very unlikely.” You muttered. You hadn’t eaten dinner with matching cutlery since you moved in.

The front door opened, cold air blustering in and mixing with the heat of the kitchen. Harry stepped in, bundled up in a big coat and rucksack slung over one shoulder.

“Hope I’m not late.” He said in a gravelly voice, smile sheepish.

“Harry!” Dad greeted him with complete joy. “Wasn’t expecting you, what a nice surprise.”

Your sister looked flustered all of a sudden. She’d convinced herself he wasn’t coming. Part of you had, too.

“I’ll just change and be back down.”

“Sure, we’ve got a bit of time yet.” Dad waved him away.

You’d pretended to busy yourself, but you watched as he headed for the stairs and caught the subtle wink he gave you.

Ah shit.

“What am I going to do?” Your sister panicked. “I'm a disaster - I look hideous.”

“No you don’t.” You grumbled. She’d never looked hideous in her life.

“Can I borrow some makeup?”

It was easier to just give her what she wanted rather than fighting her on it. “Sure - what do you need?”

She listed off a bunch of makeup items, most of which sounded completely foreign so you were sure you didn’t have them. You’d just give her your entire makeup bag and let her do what she wanted.

You knocked on Harry’s door before you went back down, makeup bag in hand. He opened in just his jeans, a light straight-leg pair with gaping holes at the knees.

“Hey,” he smiled, and rested an arm against the doorframe.

“Hi… I thought you’d be working late?”

He shook his head. “I was supposed to be. Swapped my shift ‘cause I always miss family dinner.”

“I see… well, you’ve successfully panicked my sister.”

“That was my plan all along, actually.”

“Mhm, sure.” You bit away a smirk. You liked this playful side of him a lot. “If you need half an hour to mentally prepare… I’d take it.”

“Noted, thank you.”

You left him to change and made your way back downstairs. Your sister eagerly took your makeup from you and dashed to the bathroom on the first floor.

Neither she nor Harry, or anyone else for that matter, came down until it was time to sit down.

Your dad sat at the head of the table as he always did, spread laid out in front of you in the middle. You sat to your dad’s right on the corner, and your sister to the left. You knew she was going to try and save the seat on her other side for Harry, but George ended up taking it instead, which visibly irritated her. She did have a particular ‘gay man’s best friend’ vibe about her - they flocked to her like sheep. Abbie sat at the other head, Rhys on her left, and then Harry sandwiched between Rhys and you.

He squeezed your thigh under the table, and you tried to pretend like it didn’t have some obscene effect on your intimate places. You lightly kicked his shin and started piling food onto your plate.

Like some kind of mafia father, your dad went around the table and asked all of the housemates for an update on their lives. He liked to do this, and fortunately your housemates liked pleasing him. He was a good landlord, and that showed by the way they gravitated towards him. He probably wouldn’t do this sort of thing if you weren’t living there, but he had a responsibility to them as tenants as well as you, his eldest daughter.

When you were done eating you sat back in your chair and put your hands in your lap. Harry didn’t hesitate to take one in his own and link your fingers. You peeked up at him as subtly as possible, unable to fight the giddy warmth that spread through you. He didn’t meet your gaze for the sake of keeping everyone else out of your business, but he did squeeze your hand, which only made the airy, slightly delirious feeling inside of you that much stronger.

Your sister spent 20 minutes talking about herself without breath, and as self-absorbed as she was, she was harmless, really. Not to mention entertaining. You never laughed as much as you did when she had her mouth open.

“Harry, you should come to these more often.” She said to him, batting her eyelashes.

You were about to walk her and your dad to the car and send them on their way. Harry was trying his absolute hardest to escape.

He cleared his throat. “I probably should, yeah.”

“It was good having an extra nice body.”

You gave her a look, brow raised. She shrugged. “I think it’s home time, no?” You prompted, gripping her arms and nudging her away.

“Fine.” She huffed, and began walking towards the street. “Bye team!”

Most people had already disappeared to their rooms but you had to admire her spirit. Dad was already gone, eager to go to bed.

You were halfway to the car when your sister asked, “So are you gonna tell me or what?”

You met her gaze with another raised brow. “Tell you what, exactly?”

“Mate,” she swatted my arm, “I am not an idiot. I know when I’m not wanted, because it’s not often.” She could not get any more vain if she tried. “I always did wonder what I had to do to get Harry’s attention better, and today I finally figured it out. I need to be you.”

Ah. Not as ignorant as she appears, then.

You pressed your mouth closed, looking away. “Er,”

“Don’t ‘er’ me. I saw that wink he gave you when he got home, but I thought he was just trying to wind me up. And then he sat next to you, not by choice it seemed, but there was barely an inch of space between you and practically a metre between him and Rhys. Then he just didn’t stop looking at you, even though he pretended he wasn’t. Let me tell you, that boy has not learned the art of subtlety.”

She turned to you then, a searing gaze heavy. “Look, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, or if you’re already shaggin’ him and lying to me about it-,”

“-We’re not having sex.” Yet.

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Just do something about it, please. If I can’t have him you should. Don’t let a man that beautiful go to waste. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.” She huffed, and then pulled you in for a tight hug. “Fed up of seeing you alone and underselling yourself. You’re hot shit! I know it, and Harry clearly knows it.” She suddenly takes your face in her grasp. “So do something about it.”

~

You appeared in the doorway of Harry’s room around 20 minutes later, fresh-faced and in your PJs. He was reading in bed, having stolen a book out of your cupboard.

“Is he secretly in love with her?” He asked without taking his eyes off the pages, his long finger brushing the spine.

You squinted at the title as you moved closer to him. “Yes. What made you pick that one?”

“Because it’s obviously your favourite.”

“How’d you work that one out?”

“The spine is cracked beyond belief. It’s nearly falling apart.”

“I might’ve bought it from a charity shop.”

He lifted a brow. “Did you?”

“No.”

He put the book aside, focussing all of his attention on you. You’d sat down cross-legged on top of the covers, and you wore a calm yet unreadable expression. There was a hint of something in your eyes. Infatuation, maybe?

“What’s going on?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing. I’m just… happy.”

“Me too.”

You remained quiet for a moment, gazing at one another in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Harry opened his arms in request of your embrace, and you gave it to him without hesitation. You settled against him, head tucked under his chin.

“I like this, Harry. Us.”

“So do I.” He nodded, pressing his lips into your hair. “A lot.”

“You make it easier.”

“Make what easier?” He asked, and then held his breath.

A beat passed. “Life. Sleeping. Consciousness. Cooking. Just… being.”

“That’s a very big compliment.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

When you peered up at him, he lowered his mouth to yours for a slow and tender kiss. It wasn’t abrasive or demanding; it was perfect. Full of an understanding that neither of you expected to find in another person.

“Tell me about your nightmares.”

“I don’t have them when I’m with you.” You admitted, as if he hadn’t already worked it out. When he didn’t respond to you, you reluctantly continued. “They’re about my mum. She died in a car accident a few years ago and I dream about it sometimes.”

Harry’s heart found its way into his mouth. “You were there?”

“No. My sister was. I was with dad - it was a weekend. Me and dad at his work cooking, mum and my sister shopping in town. Were on their way back and someone just ploughed into the side of the car, driver’s side. She died on impact and my sister was in hospital for a week.”

Harry held onto you tighter, his lips against your temple. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“It’s okay…” you swallowed, body tensed in stillness. “I dream about that day a lot. Mostly the part where Dad broke the news to me. Seeing my sister in the hospital plugged in and drugged up. The funeral; the look on Dad’s face. I wake up crying more than screaming, usually.”

He took a deep breath, and he clung to you like you might disappear. “I’m really sorry. Sorry that happened to you and your family, and that you have to relive it most nights. That’s not fair.”

You met his gaze, cupping his cheek. “Ever since we started doing… this, I haven’t had a single one. Not even on the nights we don’t share a bed. I don’t know why, I guess my conscience has decided it’s safe with you. And I do feel safe with you.”

“Then I will stay with you every night to make sure you never have a bad dream again.” He vowed, turning his head enough to kiss your palm. “I like knowing that you feel safe with me. S’a pretty big compliment.”

“I’m full of those when it comes to you.”

His chest swelled, a helpless smile on his face. “Even when you tell me I look like a frog.”

You snorted and hid your face in his chest. “You do, though.”

“Okay, thank you.” He huffed, feigning offence, but he didn’t let you go; didn’t loosen his hold on you.

You talked late into the night until you fell asleep, wrapped around one another and bundled under his bedclothes. Having you so close and being so open gave Harry a sense of clarity. He’d had an attraction to you since the day he met you, but this was turning into something more. Feelings were now coming up to bat, and he had a pretty solid idea of where they were heading.

~

“You are filthy.”

You wiped your brow, meeting Abbie’s gaze with indifference. “I am not letting this garden turn into a jungle again like it did last year.”

“I know, but I’ve never seen you so dirty. You’re the cleanest person I know.”

“Believe me, I’ll be jumping straight in the shower once I’m done.”

It was the warmest day of spring so far, and for once it wasn’t raining, so you’d taken the opportunity the second you had it to get outside and sort the garden out. The winter had turned it into a tangled overgrown mass of green mess, and you’d been desperate to get it sorted.

Abbie had offered to help but had realised very quickly that she was out of her depth, and eventually offered moral support in lieu of the physical kind. You didn’t mind the company - it beat waiting inside for Harry to come home, alone all day.

You chopped away at the forest that had grown, turned the soil over when you found it, and potted some new plants to give it some life. By the time Harry came home your legs were covered in dirt, cuts and fresh bruises, nail beds black, hair full of dead foliage, and just downright sweaty.

Abbie had surrendered to the house to be entertained by Rhys, and George wasn’t home. He was never home much anymore, you were all under the impression he had a boyfriend.

Harry helped you to your feet where you were kneeling in the soil, eyes giving you a thorough once over. “You look…”

“Filthy. Yes, I know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He followed you as you collected your gardening tools and hid them in the shed tucked against the side of the house. “Absolutely. You’re so clean and put together all the time, it’s kinda nice seeing you a bit roughed up.”

You hummed out a laugh. “Interesting.”

Harry boxed you up against the wall, out of sight of any of your nosey housemates. His hips trapped yours, hands holding your sides at the ribs. Without a hint of hesitation, he pressed his mouth to yours, eagerness overpowering tenderness.

You simply let him, never one to deny the most handsome man you knew a hot and heavy kiss. You enjoyed being wanted by him. Who the fuck wouldn’t?

“I’ll let you go shower.”

“Okay.” You murmured, delirious.

He pulled away, giving your hip one last squeeze before he vanished into the house. You spent five more minutes in the garden making sure you’d tidied up after yourself, and took some pictures to send to your dad.

Your shower was longer than you’d have liked thanks to the state of you, and in turn it took you longer to clean the bathroom down than usual. You were starving by the time you got back to the top floor.

Harry was at his desk when you slipped inside his room, browsing something on his laptop.

His room and yours were polar opposites of one another. Where you hid all your belongings, made your bed and kept things as minimal as possible, Harry had more shit than necessary. A bulging wardrobe, unmade bed, things everywhere. He was a man with stuff, and lots of it. Sometimes it made you itch. But he wasn’t dirty in any capacity. It smelled of fresh linen and clean air all the time.

“Do you feel better?” He asked, closing the lid on his laptop again.

“Mm. Loads better.” You gave him a warm smile as you perched on the edge of his bed.

He rolled over to you but abandoned the chair halfway to stand up. Then he crawled over you, forcing you to lie backwards and caged you against the bed.

“You smell amazing.” He said with a voice like gravel.

You ran a hand down his front and slipped it under his t-shirt, trailing your fingertips over his chest. “Thank you,”

He lowered onto his forearm, face an inch from yours and groin against your pelvis. You inhaled sharply, noticing the very obvious stiffness coming from Harry’s midsection. His hand smoothed the length of your side, down your thigh to your knee and then back up again to your arse.

He met your mouth with a kiss, deep and hungry. Dizzying. He led and he was all over you, tongue devouring yours.

“It was a lot harder than it should’ve been to not follow you into the shower.” He admitted.

You let out a soft whine and fisted his t-shirt, pulling him flush against your chest. You wanted to feel the weight of him on you. “You should’ve.”

He returned that with a growl, and his hand on your arse gripped tighter. Your name tumbled off his lips in a husky plea, “I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

Hooking your legs around his hips and pushing his centre against yours, you gave him the silent go-ahead. You looped your arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m right here, and you can have me.”

Something inside Harry snapped. Any reservations about your desire for him vanished. His kisses became punishing and carnal. His hands on you a little rougher than before, than ever. Possessive.

You helped him out of his top and in turn he helped you out of yours. You scooched backwards up the bed as he drank you in. It wasn’t lost on you that this was the first time he’d seen your top half naked. Somehow, amongst all the nights of bed-sharing, you’d never been fully naked.

His eyes were dark, hooded. He looked at you like you were his last meal, and honestly you lived for it. You wanted to die under that gaze.

“You’re so sexy.”

You bit away a timid, flustered smile. Bashfulness wasn’t sexy.

He stalked you like a wild cat as you lay back. His mouth and hands descended on you again, searching and exploring every inch of you, searing hot and wet kisses into your skin.

His hands slipped into your pyjama bottoms, feeling around your arse again before he tugged them down your legs, leaving you completely stark under his burning gaze. A strangled moan fell out of him while he regarded your naked form, hands smoothing and squeezing your hips, your waist, your boobs.

“You’re so fucking soft.” He said the words like praise.

You laid your hands on his as they travelled over you, and he pushed his mouth back to yours in that same eager dance as before. He ground himself against you, hard as a rock underneath his joggers, and it was doing all sorts to your core. Your heartbeat fell down and down again to your middle, slick heat flourishing between your legs.

“Please, Harry,” you begged him, pushing his hand down.

“What do you need?” He asked, a little cruelly, as if he didn’t know exactly what you needed.

“Touch me.”

The man gargled at you. He was fucking strangled. He traced between your thighs delicately to the point it tickled, and swiped a finger easily in a stripe up your folds, wetness collecting.

“Like that?”

“Yes.” You wriggled under him, desperate for more. “More.”

He played with your clit teasingly, enjoying the way you squirmed. “More?” He asked as he slid a finger into your waiting heat.

A small cry left you. It wasn’t enough and he knew it. “More.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

You whined. Now you were the one being carnal. You gripped his head tightly and kept your mouth to his, tongue abrasive and lashing.

While he wound you up in the most irritating way, you found your own ways to move him on. Your feet dug into the backs of his thighs and pushed downwards at an attempt to budge his joggers off. You didn’t want to wait anymore. You wanted him in all his solid glory, right now.

“Are you trying to take my bottoms off with your feet?”

“Yes.” You grunted.

“Oh,” he gave you a dark laugh as his kisses trailed back down your front, “that’s gonna cost you.”

He licked around your belly button, the warmth of his hands vanishing from your body to push his joggers down. He gave your cunt the shortest, most mind-blowing piece of attention with his mouth, dragging noises out of you that you weren’t even aware you could make. Then he turned you over without warning, on your front, and tugged your arse up to rest against his crotch.

You gasped, excited by the somewhat aggressive nature he’d taken on. Your Harry - soft and gentle as they got - man-handling you. You peered at him over your shoulder as he produced a square foil wrapper from somewhere and ripped it open with his teeth. He watched you watching him as he rolled it down his shaft, drawing your attention to it - visually, anyway - for the first time. You had to swallow the lump in your throat.

“This what you wanted, darlin’?” He asked as he smoothed his hand over your arse, but his gaze never left you. “You want me to fill you up with my cock?”

“God yes.” You said without a hint of a waver.

“You want it like this?” He lined himself up, fisting himself at the base, and glided the head of him through your wet, parted, waiting folds.

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Please. Please please please.”

He made that noise again, his large fist grabbing your hip as he hovered at your entrance, and then he thrust himself inside you.

A ripping, searing pain had you wanting to scream so loudly you had to shove your face into the mattress to muffle it. An ache blossomed in place of the initial pain, one that was all too familiar and yet quite unfamiliar. It had been absent, like a friend who lived too far away. Now it homed itself inside of you like it belonged there. Perhaps it did, and the only way to quell it was to entertain it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you feel good.” He hissed, his hands squeezing your hips and your bum in turn.

Harry pulled out, enough that only his head remained inside you, and then he gave another powerful thrust until he completely filled you. “So fucking good, my God.”

He started moving, in steady, sharp movements. He didn’t want slow. Hell, you didn’t want slow. You wanted fast and hot and sweaty, and that’s exactly what he gave you.

Harry started fucking into you so viciously you could feel it in every part of your body, from the jiggle of your tits to the shake of your arse to the rock of your hips. Oh, and the stretch of his cock as he buried deeper and deeper inside you. Every part of your body was aflame with need, a desire, a craving to be fucked into oblivion.

His hands were on your hips again, fingertips digging into your skin. He rocked you back and forth in time with his thrusts, not that you needed him to. You were doing that all on your own.

He grunted and hissed through every single powerful drive of his cock into your cunt, your name tumbling out of his mouth over and over again.

“Harry,” you whimpered, “harder.”

He growled and obeyed, pistoning inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” You cried, head burrowing again.

You felt him on you, all over you then, his chest against your back, lips kissing your shoulders and his arms with a vice grip around your middle. His skin was tacky, as was yours. You were surrounded by a cloud of packed heat, like a humid summer day.

“You are…” Harry began to say, panting in your ear, and his head shook against you, “fuck, I can’t even think straight.”

You moaned, lifting up and twisting your head in search of him. He caught your chin and brought your lips to his in another deep, claiming kiss. You wanted every kiss to be like that from then on - owning, possessing, asserting. You were his and you wanted him to know it.

He gave another round of punishing thrusts before he made a winded noise, “Turn over,” he pleaded, “I want to see your face.”

A whimper fell out of your mouth when his thickness disappeared from inside you, and he helped you onto your back before he got straight back in there. He was low over you, chest on your chest, hand on the back of your thigh, and his eyes roamed your face while it contorted with pleasure.

He hooked your leg over his hip and went harder. Harder, faster, harder, faster. Your head lolled back and a string of curse words fell out of your mouth. His lips danced across your chest and you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him there. There was nothing better than being worshipped by a mouth. Especially Harry’s mouth.

He licked and sucked over your skin until your boobs and sternum were littered with little purple spots of lust, and honestly you didn’t care. You wanted them all over you. You wanted yours all over him.

His hips never stopped moving - pushing, pushing, pushing you towards a beautiful, glorious high like a high-speed train ploughing towards a dangerous cliff edge. God, you wanted that edge and you wanted it now. You wanted to be flung off it whilst securely attached to the man currently pushing you there.

You pulled Harry’s mouth back to yours, holding your body to him as you clenched, milking him towards his end and yours. You needed it. Your head was about to explode with rampant thoughts and you needed to wash them away.

“Fuck, Harry,” you whispered, neck and shoulders spiked with heat. It radiated off you.

“I know.” He groused and bit your lower lip. “I’m fucking close. So fucking close, and I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that.”

“Please do it,” you begged, clenching again to feel his growl in your mouth, “come, Harry.”

And boy did he fucking come.

His body wracked with a shudder, movements ceasing as you wrapped yourself tightly around him. His muscles rippled beneath your fingertips while he came, oblivious to your own masterful undoing.

You calmed together, lips moving in tender kisses until your breath was caught again and your limbs were sore. You deflated when Harry abandoned you to clean himself up, and you dipped into your bedroom to do the same when you found the strength.

When he came back you snuggled up to him in his bed, between his legs with your head on his chest. His lips grazed through your hair, breathing light and content.

“I am… fucking obsessed with you.” He mumbled.

You traced your fingers over the hair and the swallows on his chest, a warmth filling you, like an acceptance. Being wanted hadn’t mattered to you until now. Until Harry.

“I… am also quite infatuated with you. And I have been for some time. Just… quietly.”

“You been sniffin’ my bed sheets while I’m at work?”

You giggled and nuzzled closer to him. “No. Not recently, anyway.”

“Not recently?”

“I’ve never sniffed your bed sheets, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“I’m weird, but I’m not that weird.”

“But you’ve been infatuated with me for ages.”

“Not enough to go into your room and sniff your bed sheets.”

“Did you do anything a bit weird?”

“No.”

“Really? Not even… a little… you know?”

You gave him a bewildered look, and he waggled his eyebrows at you.

Haha. You totally did that, you creep.

“Maybe.” You murmured, hiding your face again.

He chuckled and held onto you tightly. “I did, too. Feeling’s always been mutual, darlin’.”

You heaved a content sigh. “I’m glad it was. I really do like this. Us.”

“Me too.”

~

Harry had been living life with a permanent spring in his step. He had you, living in the same house and sharing a bed, cooking at dinner time, shagging at night time, and just generally being wonderful, fantastic, gorgeous, brilliant you.

Tonight you were at your dad’s house with your sister so he was cooking alone, but George was in the living room watching one of those daft culinary competition programs on Channel 4, the commentary filtering out with an occasional expletive. Abbie and Rhys were out but would likely be home soon. You’d be back eventually, too, and he liked knowing that nowadays you came home to him.

Rhys and Abbie came back first. Harry had decided to join George in the living room, too intrigued by the shouty drama on Come Dine With Me to ignore it.

Abbie gasped at the TV. “This is the one!” She squealed.

“What one?” Rhys demanded. “Oh, yes!”

“What am I missing?” Harry asked, a little bewildered.

George shushed everyone with a finger to his lips. “I’ve been talking him through it but I want him to see.” He flailed a hand in the couple’s direction.

All four pairs of eyes glued to the TV, a vetted interest in the argument unfolding. The contestants from that week’s episodes were gathering in the final host's living room, bank notes spread in a circle atop a silver tray and holding up a scroll wrapped in red ribbon.

The front door of the house opened again, and in you waltzed, a baffled look on your face. Very rarely did you come home to find everyone in the living room.

Abbie squeaked your name, begging you to join before it kicked off on the telly. “Come on, quick.” She patted the space between her and Harry, conveniently.

His eyes were no longer interested in the TV drama, only in you.

“In fourth place is… me.”

“Ah,” you said in recognition of the scene on the telly as you sat down. Your arm brushed against Harry’s as you tucked your right foot under your left thigh, and caught yourself before you settled into his side like you normally would.

A chorus of patronising oohs filled the room from the contestants on the screen. The host was shaking his head.

“Wait, is this the-,”

“You won, Jane.”

Barking laughter filled the room from the housemates, including Harry, but the host didn’t stop there.

“Dear Lord, what a sad little life, Jane.”

“You’ve got that on a T-shirt!” Harry swatted George’s arm.

“Damn right I do.” He grinned. “Cultural icon.”

“You, or the bloke having an aneurysm?”

“Both.”

“... grace of a reversing dump truck.”

More squeals filled the room, as if the entire scene hadn’t been a meme for years now.

Abbie patted your shoulder. “Did you see the video of Penn Badgley doing this?”

“Obviously.”

“Wait, I wanna see.” Rhys frowned.

Episode forgotten, Abbie found the clip on her phone and showed it to everyone.

“Oh my God, I think I’m going to hear it in that voice forever now.” George muttered, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Shall we watch a movie or something?” Abbie suggested, a hopeful look in her eye. “We never do anything all together… it would be nice.”

“I’m up for that.” Rhys grinned, because why would he ever turn down one of his girlfriend’s ideas?

“Yeah, me too.” George nodded.

All eyes turned to you and Harry. You couldn’t very well say no now, it would look odd. Especially if you both did, which is what you both wanted to do. There were two perfectly good beds upstairs, one of which needed to be destroyed. That wasn’t very well going to happen if you both sat on the couch and watched a film with your housemates.

“Yeah, sure.” You finally said, because you hated the way everyone was looking at you.

“Go for it.” Harry managed, much worse at hiding his disapproval than you were.

“How are we going to decide, then? ‘Cause I don’t really watch the horror films you two are into,” George pointed between Abbie and Rhys, “and Harry probably only watches underground indie movies or something.”

Harry had no idea what gave him that impression, but the laugh that came out of your mouth - hearty, loud and delighted - was worth the assumption.

“Why don’t we all write a movie name down on a piece of paper that we’ll all like - a comedy or something - and do a raffle.”

“Okay, but who’s choosing?”

Harry rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable to happen. George and Abbie fought for five minutes, both arguing that one of them should choose, and then the decision was given to you as the honorary house mediator. Everyone wrote their choices down on a scrap of paper and dropped them all into one of Rhys’s beanies. Then you closed your eyes, body screaming reluctance at having to be the decision-maker, and plucked a folded square out.

Your mouth lifted at the corners. “Shrek 2.”

Snacks were brought in, beers were shared out, and someone pressed play on the film where it had been queued up.

“Wait!” George screamed.

You all looked at him, bewildered by his dramatics. He’d even stood up.

“What?” Rhys gave him a baffled look.

“I wanna sit in the armchair.” George pointed to the very one Rhys sat in. “I don’t wanna sit in a couple sandwich. A third wheel is bad enough, but a fifth wheel is a disaster.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, laughter nervous and the ultimate giveaway.

“Oh fuck off if you two think we don’t all know you’re a thing.”

Your body tensed. Harry could feel it, the way you went from soft to rigid in a split second. “What?”

“We’ve known for ages.” Abbie said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, like, the second Harry moved in.” George rolled his eyes.

“But we haven’t been-,”

“-Maybe not the whole time, but definitely recently. I can hear the floorboards creak, you know.” George gave you an accusatory glance. Curse him living directly beneath you. “Amongst other things.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or whether he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks and the tips of his ears had turned pink, and you looked like you were in shock. “Right…”

“I am slightly offended that you didn’t want us to know.” Rhys folded his arms. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

He had a point. What did you think was going to happen? Mild ribbing and inappropriate jokes? It wasn’t exactly any of their business what the two of you were doing on the top floor, but that didn’t mean you’d needed to hide everything from them. Why had you stopped yourselves from being affectionate when around them? They were your friends. You all had inside jokes and a group chat and emoji code names. They were like a second family in a way. Even though you all enjoyed your own company, you liked each other too.

“I think… for a while we didn’t really know what was happening.” Harry finally spoke, twisting in his place. “We just started hanging out and it kinda grew from there.”

“I called this on day one, by the way.” George said smugly.

“It’s true, he did.” Abbie nodded, still smiling. “Two good-looking people at the top of the house? Recipe for heaven.”

“We’re happy it finally happened. Just… don’t hide shit like that from us. We’re all friends.” George was back to scowling.

“Friends.” Rhys cooed, like Jay from The Inbetweeners.

“Anyway, now that’s all out there, can we start the film please? Or it’s gonna be my bedtime.” Abbie flailed her hand around.

The movie started, everyone settled into their places, and you managed to find a comfortable position against Harry’s side.

Even though you chatted along with conversations and laughed at the telly, Harry knew something was off. You were still tense, and you didn’t touch him like you normally would. He wanted you in his arms, not pushed awkwardly against his side. He wasn’t sure if it was because you were uncomfortable displaying affection in front of other people, but whatever it was he wanted to make it go away.

He shifted at one point in an attempt to wrap an arm around your middle, but instead you moved further away. That utterly terrified him.

As the movie credits rolled, everyone started to move, ready to get to bed for the night. Except you.

“Guys,” You said, quiet as a mouse, but everyone heard you. Because you never stopped anyone for anything, “can we all have a chat?”

Dread nestled itself into Harry’s stomach. A chat? About what? Everyone? Why did everyone have to be present? What was going on?

The housemates sat back down, if a little tentatively, gazes wary. You finally gave Harry your attention, if only fleetingly with a worried smile.

“Are you alright?” Abbie asked and pulled your hand into hers.

Harry leaned forwards.

“You’ll all be getting an email tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you in person.” You licked your lips, stare heavy on the stone floor of the living room. “Dad is selling the house.”

~

A little piece of your heart broke that evening when your dad told you his plans to sell. It was a place that you had such an odd relationship with, because while it cost a lot of money and caused a lot of financial problems, it also brought you a family you never asked for and a man you never dreamed of having.

You knew your dad would try and hold onto it as long as he possibly could because it had become your home, and he’d been in bits over dinner as he broke the news. He cried, so you cried, and then your sister cried, too. Everyone had been a mess.

“What?” George said, dumbfounded. Hell, everyone was dumbfounded.

“It’s the last thing he wanted to do, but it’s kind of burning a hole in his pocket and we can’t afford it anymore. Between the leaking second floor and dodgy plumbing there’s also woodworm and stone repairs and all sorts of other crap I don’t want to bore you with.”

“You found this out today?” Abbie asked, bottom lip trembling.

“Yeah, an hour or so ago. I’m really sorry, guys.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Rhys frowned.

Abbie crawled across the small gap between her and you and wrapped her arms around you. “We get it. It’s old, it’s a bit rickety and it needs a lot of TLC. We all know your dad gave it all the care he could afford and it’s okay that he can’t afford it anymore.”

“How long do we have to find new places?” George asked, biting his lip.

“As long as it takes to sell. Given the condition of the place it could be fuckin’ ages.” You managed a laugh.

“If your dad needs us to do anything, he just needs to let us know. And we’ll make sure it’s tidy as fuck for viewings and shit.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

The housemates starting shifting again, collecting up their bits and leaving with softly spoken good nights. You still didn’t move, and neither did Harry. After a quiet minute or so, he slipped his hand into yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“What are you thinking?” He asked in a gravelly whisper.

You took a deep breath, nibbling away at your lower lip. “That I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“Mhm.”

“Scared about what?”

You turned to face him, cataloguing every crease of worry on his handsome face. “Us. What this means for us.”

He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “What do you think it means for us?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m scared it means the end, when I don’t want it to. I’m scared that what we’ve been doing is just… convenient? And now that we have to leave it won’t be so convenient anymore and it will be over.”

“You don’t want it to be over.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. Not even a little bit. I… I don’t want a night without you ever again. I can sleep with you around. I can breathe. I need to breathe, and I can’t do that without you. And part of me hates that I need you, but I do, and the rest of me that doesn’t hate it tells me to fuck everything to the wind. Because it’s not just need, it’s also a want. I just want you around, like you have been. Presence is such a funny thing when it comes from different people, but yours… I like yours. A lot.”

Harry spoke your name in a low voice, gaze on your mouth as he smoothed his thumb across your lower lip, “I don’t want it to be over, either.” He meets your gaze again, cool, calm and collected. “I really hoped it wouldn’t be at any stage ever, least not because we have to leave the house and find another one. I’ve been living with you for three fucking years and I also don’t want to have to spend a night where you don’t live with me. Hell, it’s not even a fucking option. I know you love this place because it’s your family’s, but I don’t care where we live as long as we do it together. I’ve been looking at other places since the day I moved in, and the only reason I haven’t bothered to leave is because you kept me here, whether you meant to or not. And now we have to leave, and I’m sure as shit gonna take you with me, because I can’t live without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, and then launched into his arms, tackling him into the sofa. You peppered his face with kisses until he caught your lips and held you there, happy in the knowledge that you needed each other and that was absolutely fucking okay.

“You’re special to a lot of people, but especially to me.” Harry mumbled into your lips. “I’m selfish enough to not let you go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Good.”

You remained in the lounge for a little while longer, wrapped up in one another, until movement began upstairs and you decided it was probably time to head upstairs to bed. Before you made it to the stairs, Rhys and George appeared in front of you. Rhys looked apprehensive and George looked irritated he’d been dragged out of his room again.

“What’s going on?” You asked, cocking your head.

“Abbie’s in the loo so I’m gonna make this real quick before she comes back.” Rhys threw a wary glance over his shoulder. “I need your help.”

~

Every morning was the same.

This week it had been, anyway. You woke up with the sunrise, wrapped in Harry’s arms, and you listened to his heartbeat and his unconscious breathing for a blissful twenty minutes before his alarm went off. Then he’d fall out of bed with a reluctant yawn, mooch his way around the room and disappear into the bathroom to get ready for work.

Upon reappearing he’d head to the kitchen to make a coffee and leave a cup of tea on your bedside table, then a kiss on your lips, and then you’d watch the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ leave your apartment from the comfiest spot in the bedroom.

Today was the same, but different. He wasn’t going to work today, and neither were you. It meant longer in bed, with enough time for sexy shenanigans, then he’d make for the bathroom, bring you tea afterwards and breakfast.

You spent the day in bed, right up until 5 o’clock when you had to get up and go out to give your keys back.

Yes, your dad had managed to sell the house. It had taken a while, but it got there. The new owners were moving in tomorrow, and you’d all arranged to meet your dad and your sister there to do a final ‘handover’.

George had moved into a studio flat in the centre of town but spent most of his nights at his boyfriend’s place. Rhys and Abbie had finally bought that house they always wanted, out of town but easy to travel into. And you and Harry also had your own place, still renting and in the city, but it was yours together, and that was all you wanted.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked as you walked up to the front of old Blackpool Tower.

“I’m not the one that needs to be nervous.” You shrugged, even if you had been the one to help Rhys with most of the planning.

He’d been a lot of work over the past few weeks. After he initially asked for your help he spent so long searching for the damn jewellery he forgot about the rest of it. You had reminded him on many occasions that it didn’t need a big song and dance, but he insisted, because he wanted it in the house you’d all shared with her favourite people to witness it.

The garden was lit up in the early evening with fairy lights and candles. George, your sister and your dad were already at the far end waiting for Rhys and Abbie to arrive. You gave over your keys - dad had the house professionally cleaned even though you had offered, because it was too big a task for one person.

Blackpool Illuminations

Rhys We’re nearly there…

Yes, Rhys had really named the group chat for the planning committee ‘Blackpool Illuminations’.

You stood next to your sister who wrapped herself around your middle, and Harry kept hold of your free hand.

“I hope she says no.” Your sister said, and Harry snorted. “Just for a laugh.”

“I don’t think Abbie has it in her to say no to Rhys.” You mused.

Five minutes later the couple in question turned up. Abbie had no idea what was going on, obviously. She’d been told they were going for dinner and then for a walk. The walk was always supposed to end here, at the old house.

Abbie gasped at the sight before her, hands on her mouth as she moved through the garden. “What’s going on?”

Behind her, Rhys swiftly dropped to one knee and presented the ring he’d spent months agonising over. “Abbie,”

You all watched and listened as Rhys spent five minutes talking about how perfect his girl was for him. It was very typical Rhys - overboard and unnecessarily long. Most things maybe could’ve been kept for his wedding vows.

Just as your sister was about to explode from restlessness, Rhys finally asked, “Will you marry me?”

“I would’ve said yes five minutes ago.” Abbie giggled, nodding, and held her left hand out.

George and your sister started hollering, your dad was pretending not to cry, and you fell into Harry’s hold again, watching the happy couple with a warm smile.

“I hope to God they don’t ask me to help plan the actual wedding.”

Harry chuckled and pressed his lips into your temple. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

Your sister presented herself in front of you with an assured look on her face. “When are you two getting engaged, then?”

Harry choked behind you, and you gave your sister a bewildered look. “Reel it in, please.”

“What?” She shrugged. “Being in love suits you. A wedding would really suit you.”

“A wedding isn’t something you arrange for an aesthetic, sis.” You reminded her.

“Speak for yourself, but I do recommend heavily considering it.”

After she turned away, Harry lowered his mouth to the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

You tightened his arms around you. “One day.” You said with a kiss to his palm.

His smile imprinted on your cheek. “One day.”

~.~.~.~.~

Thank you so v much for reading if you make it this far. It’s a long one, I know. The longest one shot I’ve actually ever done. Much love to you <3