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wileys-russo · 4 months

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put a ring on it II l.williamson x reader

lil LW6 fic based on this request put a ring on it II l.williamson x reader

"here she is!" you sung out as you launched yourself onto your friends back, alessia stumbling slightly but finding her footing with a laugh. "player of the match! player of the match!" you continued to cheer as alessia hoisted you up properly carrying you round on her back as you did your laps.

"the penalty was perfect less, see i told you they weren't cursed!" you grinned, pulling her into a tight hug as she placed you back down on your feet. "doesn't mean i'll be putting my hand up to take anymore!" the blonde shook her head, though neither of you were unable to keep the smile off her face with a 4-1 win over chelsea.

"i see now why the two of you are so perfect for each other." the taller girl laughed as you both clapped and waved to the fans, nodding toward your girlfriend who was getting a piggyback of her own off manu.

"leah's got an excuse though you're just lazy!" alessia teased, often having you demanding she piggyback you around on national duty and now you played for the same club team.

"you're one to talk! who carries all the bags when we go shopping?" you laughed shoving her, waving at a small group of girls who called out your name. "who buys the most and therefore has the most bags to carry!" the blonde countered bumping her shoulder into yours.

"thats definitely you babe, because its me who carries all the bag when we go shopping!" suddenly your girlfriend appeared, wedging her way in between the two of you with her arms slung over both yours and alessia's shoulders.

"i earn and spend my money the way i want, why all this hate!" you tutted with a playful roll of your eyes, the three of you falling into conversation as you continued on your lap round the emirates.

"heard you've got some competition for your girls hand leah!" kyra zoomed past with a cheeky grin, leah frowning in confusion but unable to ask for any further context as kyra sprinted off chased by vic.

"i didn't know your relationship was open williamson. can i have a crack?" katie was next, playfully kissing your cheek with a wink as now both you and leah looked on in confusion.

your relationship with leah could be described as private but not secret. for years now you'd posted pictures with and of one another, but paid no mind to the spamming of comments asking if you were together.

you lost no sleep to the rumours of what you two were and made no move to placate or deny them, rather just happily existing together and focusing your energy on your relationship rather than what people thought about it or assumed it to be.

however it was most certainly not open.

"what the hell is everyone on about?" leah huffed, annoyance replacing confusion as you squeezed her bicep to try and gain her attention seeing she was becoming upset. "um, i might have an idea." alessia chuckled beside you, clearly trying to cover up her amusement but failing miserably.

nudging the two of you she tried to subtly point something out in the crowd, and it didn't take very long for leah to follow along. "oh you are taking the piss mate." came the scoff and grumble as you tried to catch on, alessia rolling her eyes and moving your head so you finally spotted it.

"ohh." you sighed in realisation, your girlfriends mumblings beside you and closed off body language now making a lot more sense. "do they think thats going to work?" you laughed, which was cleary the wrong thing to say as leah scoffed again and stormed off before you could say another word.

"will you be saying i do then?" you grunted as the tables turned and kyra reappeared, jumping onto your back and wrapping her legs around your waist, vic and teyah not far behind her.

the teasing in question was all due to a large sign reading 'marry me y/n?' held up by a grinning girl who definitely looked too young for you whose eye contact you avoided as you turned away from the sign.

"someone will be sleeping with the dogs tonight!" vic roared with laughter as leah shot you a look over her shoulder and followed into the tunnel after beth.

"i didn't even do anything! this is all of your faults for pointing out that stupid sign and winding her up." you huffed and promptly dropped kyra, who swore after you as teyah helped her up and you hurried off toward where your girlfriend had dissapeared.

though before you could go after her there was a small group of fans calling your name and you diverted, spending a little while alongside laia and alessia signing and chatting things before finally breaking away and heading inside.

returning to the change rooms everyone seemed to be in good spirits and celebrations were in full swing. music was pumping and you couldn't help but laugh at some of your friends and team mates dance moves which were more than questionable.

"having fun wally?" you grinned at the poor swiss woman who was desperately trying to count heads for how many people to include in a dinner booking at one of the teams favorite pubs later tonight, with very little success.

"lee and i will be there." you laughed at her pleading eyes, kissing her cheek and searching the room for the blonde in question. "hey have you seen leah?" you asked beth who finally sat down to take her boots off and stopped singing (yelling) for five seconds at vivs pleading.

"maybe that way somewhere." beth jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the rest of the team as you rolled your eyes. "yeah thanks beffy." you chuckled, quickly changing out of your socks and boots, a twenty minute warning given for the bus leaving you scrambled toward the showers just beating stina into the last free one.

knowing there was a line of inpatient girls waiting their turn who were only growing rowdier now someone had popped a bottle of champagne, you were fast with your shower and the way you changed into clean dry clothes in record time.

you'd think with the way the team was carrying on you'd all won the conti cup again though amusing as the celebrations were a frown was very much present on your face seeing leah was still nowhere to be seen.

you tried calling her as you grabbed your bag and filed out of the change rooms but huffed as it rang out and went to voicemail. "she's probably driving, she drove herself and laura right?" alessia tried to reassure you as your eyes roamed the carpark, leahs car nowhere in sight at all.

"yeah maybe." you mumbled, following the taller girl up and into the bus, loading your bags and settling into your seat. "ah ah no anti social behaviour we're celebrating!" you groaned as beth snatched your headphones from your hands, hanging them around her neck with a wink as jen ruffled your hair and steph smiled apologetically.

much as you did worry about leah a half hour later you couldn't help but laugh and try not to let your overthinking consume your mind too much as karaoke was in full swing and you'd almost arrived back to colney.

"macca please, give our ears a break!" alessia groaned playfully beside you, her head falling to your shoulder as the two of you plugged your ears and the older girl scoffed, making a point to saunter over closer and yell mr brightside even louder, vic belting it out from the other end of the bus.

you continued to check your phone, having still tried to call around to leah and sending her a few messages all of which had gone unanswered. "hey, get out of your head." alessia tapped at your forehead sensing the worried nervous energy pouring out of you.

"why would she be mad at you? you didn't make that sign, you didn't interact with the fan who made it, you didn't encourage anything." the girl rubbed your back comfortingly as she drew you in for a hug and the bus parked up, everyone hurrying off and agreeing to meet for dinner at seven sharp.

"text me yeah?" alessia encouraged as you nodded and sent her a grateful smile before slipping into your car and flicking through your playlists, needing the right sort of music to try and pull yourself from your thoughts as you drove home.

a small sense of relief flooded through you seeing leahs car was indeed in the driveway once you arrived, meaning at least she was home. quickly parking and shutting off your engine you grabbed your bag from the back and headed toward the front door.

though before you could even get a hand on the door it swung open taking you off guard, though the state of your girlfriend caught you even more so by surprise. "why are you-" you started, your girlfriend dressed up in a beige two piece suit with her hair done and light makeup apparent on her features.

"we're going out." leah announced, ushering you inside and grabbing your bag for you. "for dinner with the girls? i didn't think we were meeting until seven and we were just going to the local." you wandered in with a confused frown as leah shook her head.

"no, just you and i. i already called lia and let her know!" your girlfriend answered the question before you could even ask it. "but-" you started cut off by a shake of the blondes head.

"no more questions. our reservations at five and i already laid out something for you to wear. go change please darling!" leahs hands landed on your shoulders, turning and gently pushing you toward your shared bedroom. "you're being very weird williamson." you stated glancing at her over your shoulder as she waved you off and started to unpack your bag for you.

"come on babe it's nearly five!" leah groaned, still refusing to answer any of your questions as you finished doing your hair, nodding happily with the final product and grabbing your bag.

"hey thats not the bag i chose or the shoes!" leah huffed with a frown at your changes. "as sweet as it is that you wanted to dress me love, i get final say." you smiled pecking her lips and silencing any further protests.

"isn't it nearly five?" you reminded as she attempted to argue again, the blonde nodding and taking your hand, locking up after you and hurrying to open your door as you slid inside. "such a gentlewoman." you teased, the defender grinning and stealing a kiss before shutting your door and rushing around to her own side.

"will you tell me where we're going now?" you asked as leah pulled out of the driveway with a shake of her head, nodding for you to select some music. "you're an incredibly frustrating individual sometimes i leah catherine." you sighed but grabbed her phone none the less since it connected first.

"you still love me but." leah smirked teasingly, eyes focused on the road as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. "lee. why did you run off today?" you questioned after a comfortable silence had fallen between you, unable to ignore the topic any longer.

"i didn't, just had to drop laura home." leah shrugged it off as you gave up trying to work out where you were going as she turned the opposite way that you expected her to.

"right. only after we saw that silly sign you seemed-" you continuned softly, cut off as leah turned up the current song and started to loudly sing along, wordlessly sending the message she didn't want to answer.

dropping it for now not wanting to spoil the blondes seemingly improved mood before a meal together you sang along with her as she drove. "oh we've not been here before." you perked up as leah finally turned in and parked, not recognizing where you were.

"some of the girls recommended it awhile back, i think dean took steph here for their anniversary if my memory serves correct?" leah commented, parking up and clicking her tongue at you as you went to open your door.

"you really are something else." you smiled as she appeared in front of you swinging the door open. "i will open doors any day for you my pretty lady." leah bowed as you smacked her shoulder and the defender stood up straight with a grin, grabbing your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your interlocked fingers.

the two of you fell into step as another comfortable silence fell between you, the sun starting to set bathing you in a warm golden glow, the dark clouds from earlier today now long gone.

"williamson." leah spoke with a smile to the hostess at the front who nodded, grabbing two menus and leading the two of you through the resteraunt. "its beautiful in here lee." you squeezed your girlfriends hand with an awestruck smile at the interior.

floor to roof there were old stone pillars, painted to look washed out as plants hung from the tops and vines spiraled around them, gold edged finishing on the dark mid century wooden furniture.

"wait till you see outside." leah murmered, kissing your cheek with a smile as the two of you were lead outside, your eyes lighting up seeing a small fire pit. "here?" you asked as the waitress gestured for the two of you to take a seat, the semi circle bench with an in built table a little sunk into the ground creating a cosy but private atmosphere.

there was a live band playing on a small stage and the soft chatter from your fellow diners just added to the cosy atmosphere as you thanked the hostess and sat down, leah making sure you were comfortable before taking a seat herself.

"like it?" leah raised an eyebrow but curiously and a little nervously, the two of you were creatures of habit and seldom tried new places, rather preferring the guaranteed satisfaction of what you knew wouldn't disappoint you.

"it's perfect leah. but why?" you laughed quietly, leaning in to kiss her properly and pulling away, neither of you overly large fans of pda given your shared 'famous' status and the risk of prying eyes or phone cameras.

"do i now need a reason to take my beautiful wonderful gorgeous girlfriend out for a nice meal?" leah smiled charmingly, resting her chin on her hand. "mm no but its much less suspicious when you do have one." you retorted, knocking your knee against hers as someone arrived to take your order.

not even having glanced at the menu yet you both smiled apologetically and ordered drinks, busying yourselves deciding what to eat and ordering food once your drinks arrived.

"so this lovely spontaneous meal would have nothing to do with that sign today then would it love?" you asked with a quirk of your eyebrow, sipping on your drink as leah rolled her eyes.

"no it would not!" "you do realise i've known you for years now williamson and you are a terrible liar."

"alright maybe the sign had me a little tiny teeny weeny bit jealous. but mostly i realised we'd not had a proper date night in far too long!" she grinned at the last part of her answer, hoping you'd skip over the first bit.

"jealous i might marry a wee stranger with a sign were we? thats a bit rom com cliche for me my love." you chuckled as your girlfriend playfully smacked your leg and finished her drink, setting the empty glass down as within seconds it was whisked away by someone.

"dunno i bet if i turned up outside your window with a big speaker and confessed my undying love for you you'd be swooning quite hard darling." leah smiled, eyes ablaze with nothing but sheer adoration for you.

"that would have certainly been much more romantic." you teased, leahs cheeks flushing pink at the memory. "stop! i was young and nervous and....sweaty." the defender cringed, having practically cornered you in the showers sweating bullets with nerves and practically yelling at you to go on a date with her.

"now babe how did it go again?" you pondered as leah groaned and hid her face in her hands. "go on a date with me tomorrow!" you mocked her accent and hummed. "no that wasn't it." you stroked your chin thoughtfully as your girlfriend groaned louder and smacked your knee, hiding her face in her hands.

"date tomorrow me please really like you!" you again mocked her accent and nervous stutter with a wolfish grin as the blonde was saved any further embarrassment as your food arrived.

the two of you grew up together on the football pitch in your teen years, both growing quite close through the arsenal academy leah made her senior team debut just a season before you and you couldn't be prouder.

though the distance between you now as you stayed training with the b team meant she realised she wanted to be more than friends and harboured quite unfriendly feelings.

feelings she made the mistake of confessing to her new teammates who'd at first teased her relentlessly and then came the ongoing pushing to tell you how she felt.

leah finally cracked once you signed your own contract and were finally training by her side again, the teasing growing worse for a very clearly flustered leah, a side you weren't used to having known her to be occasionally over confident.

you'd chalked it down to nerves for the talks of her impending senior national team call up, everyone else chalked it up to her being disgustingly head over heels for you and surprisingly too scared to let you know.

this meant six agonisingly slow months passed where leah continued to be given shit for the pining looks sent your way when you weren't looking, until one day something snapped and she decided no more would she hide the truth away.

it may have coincidentally also been the day she heard rumours of you allegedly being dragged along speed dating later that night with some of the other older girls 'for a laugh'.

so swallowing every single doubt which screamed at her this was a terrible idea leah had tried time and time again that day to speak with you, but something or someone seemed to pop up and get in the way every time.

which had been what lead to the abrupt and incredibly awkward shower room incident, though really as much as leah was horrifically mortified you'd found it endearingly cute.

given you still teased her for it this day and the two of you had been dating for years and years now as leah got older the regret of how she'd gone about asking you out had begun to melt away.

"ready to go baby girl?" leah asked as your plates were cleared, the two of you practically now sitting on top of one another as you relished in the welcome warmth both from the fire pit and one anothers bodies.

"did you want one more drink?" you turned your head to question, quite comfortable in your current position. "nah, one of us has to be sober enough to drive home." leah teased, ducking her head to press her lips to yours, pulling away far sooner than you'd have liked as she squeezed your hips indicating you stand up.

making your way hand in hand through the restaurant, now both well fed and a tiny bit tipsy in your case you both cared less about the displays of affection, having been papped together many times over the years anyway but just never directly addressing anything.

thanking the hostess leah was quick to grab the door for you, your cheeks flushing bright red as she lightly patted your bum as she walked out after you, causing you to shoot her a playful glare over your shoulder.

the blonde was even quicker to pull off her suit jacket, draping it over your bare shoulders and silencing your protests that now she would be cold with several kisses, mumbling about how she was warming herself up with them causing you to laugh against her lips.

many sweet kisses and cheesy compliments exchanged during the walk back to the car you shrugged off leahs arm and darted to her door, pulling it open for her for once as she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"must be the jacket." you teased as she rolled her eyes but slid into the car, making a point to lean over the console to push open your own door for you anyway.

finally pulling into your driveway with a firm look from your girlfriend you waited patiently for her to make her own way to your door, gasping in mock surprise as she pulled it open and once again bowed.

"sap!" you teased shoving her as you grabbed her hand and stood, leah closing the door and locking her car up after you. "okay before we go inside." your girlfriend started halting you in your tracks by the front door, causing a suspicious frown to grow on your face.

"i need you to trust me please." the taller girl took your hands in hers with a gentle squeeze as you slowly nodded. "i do."

"okay good. now please put this on then, no questions." leah reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a blindfold as you raised an eyebrow but begrudgingly did as she asked, flinching as her hands fell to your shoulders once you'd heard her unlock the front door.

"i got you." she chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and carefully guiding you inside, murmering when steps were coming or there was obstacles.

you heard the back door sliding open and felt your girlfriend carefully help you down the back steps as she asked you kick off your shoes and your feet sunk into the soft grass of the backyard.

eventually you felt yourself step onto something rougher causing your eyebrows to furrow curiously as leahs hands fell from your body and you heard some shuffling around but you knew there wasn't a point to you asking anything as she would just not answer.

"okay, you can take it off now love."

it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust once you'd pulled off the cloth blindfold but once they did your hand flew to your mouth and your body locked up, your reaction clearly amusing the blonde knelt down in front of you.

the roughness beneath you was a large aztec blanket, with two beanbags and cushions scattered all around as lanterns and fairy lights hung from the trees and on each corner of the blanket around you illuminating your backyard in a soft golden glow.

"leah..." you trailed off, shaking your head unable to find words as she sent you a soft smile and held up her hand to silence you.

"now you know why i was so pissed off with that stupid bloody sign today. i've had this planned out for weeks and of course the day i choose to do it, which i promise was long pre planned, some other randoms got a sign asking for your hand and making me look like some jealous numpty whose concocted a last minute proposal just to spite some teenage fangirl!" leah scoffed with a shake of her head making you let out a half laugh half sob as her features softened.

"you're such an idiot." you managed to get out making her grin and shuffle forward a little, reaching into her other trouser pocket as your heart rate accelerated even faster if that was humanely possible.

"jesus christ." you exhaled shakily as she pulled out a small velvet box and popped it open, the ring inside glinting back at you. "not my name love but i'll take it." leah grinned boyishly as you again let out a laugh, hand still covering your mouth in shock.

"my beautiful girl. i've loved you for as long as i've known you and though it took me a little bit to realise i think i might've been in love with you that entire time too." leah started as your knees felt like buckling.

"you are the most warm, caring, kind, attentive, empathetic, passionate and selfless person i've ever had the utter pleasure of having in my life let alone the absolute honor of calling my partner in life. you've always been the one whose better with words between us but i'm going to do my very best to remember all of-" as excitement shot through your body you couldn't help but interrupt.

"yes!" you cried out suddenly, taking leah off guard as she faltered mid speech and your face blushed bright red. "yes?" leah asked wide eyed as you nodded furiously. "yes, yes, yes, a million times yes." you laughed as another sob wracked your body.

the blonde was up and on her feet within seconds and hoisting you off the ground, spinning you around as tears of joy spilt over from her own eyes and you wasted no time smashing your lips to hers.

"i had a whole lovely long heartfelt speech planned out about how much i love and adore you dickhead. i've proposed to laura, lia and beth about three thousand times now for practice!" leah laughed against your lips as she carefully settled you back down on your feet and pressed her forehead to yours.

"save it for your vows?" you smiled guiltily, biting down on your bottom lip as leah let out a pelt of laughter, letting go of you to wipe away her tears before very gently wiping away your own with the pad of her thumb, tugging you into yet another kiss.

"wait! at least let me-" she pulled away and dropped down onto one knee again, carefully pulling out the ring and placing the box down by her side.

"may i please be your wife?" leah asked, eyes once more welling up with tears as you nodded and she grabbed your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger as you pulled her up to her feet.

"you know i also had this to get to, you really are so inpatient!" leah threw her head back with a laugh, stepping back and lifting one of the beanbags pulling out a bundle of red.

as she dropped it open you let out a laugh of your own, seeing it was an arsenal jersey with williamson on the back but with your own number, clearly an indicator of the future to come.

"mm mrs williamson has such a perfect ring to it my girl, i can't wait to be your wife." "i love you so so very much, fiance." "i bet that girl is gonna feel proper stupid now." "leah!" "what? she beat me to the punch but i got the final knockout." "you're forever and always the winner in my eyes baby."

#woso #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso community

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pucksandpower · 6 months

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Family Feud

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Summary: Max thinks it’s bad enough that his sister is dating his emotional support rival … but did they really have to rub salt in the wound by making him want to puke on national tv?

Warnings: 18+ content mildly implied

You take a deep breath as you walk onto the Family Feud stage, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. You never expected to be here, about to face off against your brother and his Red Bull Racing teammates in a battle of wits. But when Fred Vasseur talked to you about potentially doing an episode of the show for charity, you jumped at the chance.

Especially since it meant spending time with your boyfriend.

You glance over at Charles and he winks at you, his smile making your heart flutter.

You could stare into each other’s eyes all day so you force yourself to look away and turn to face the host Steve Harvey as he introduces the teams.

“Welcome to Celebrity Family Feud!” Steve announces. “Today we’ve got two Formula 1 teams ready to compete. Let’s meet the teams!”

Steve starts with the Red Bull Racing team. “We’ve got Team Principal Christian Horner, Red Bull drivers Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, and AlphaTauri drivers Daniel Ricciardo and Yuki Tsunoda!”

The crowd cheers as the guys wave. Max shifts awkwardly, clearly not comfortable being on stage. You stifle a laugh, knowing he would rather be anywhere than here right now.

“And the Scuderia Ferrari team,” Steve continues, “led by Team Principal Fred Vasseur, with drivers Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, Chief Technical Officer Y/N Verstappen, and reserve driver Antonio Giovinazzi!”

You and your teammates greet the audience. As you pass Max, you ruffle his hair teasingly. “Ready to lose?”

He swats your hand away, rolling his eyes. “You wish.”

Steve explains the rules and then it’s time for the face-off. You and Charles step up to represent Ferrari while Daniel and Max come forward for Red Bull.

“Alright, we surveyed 100 people, top five answers are on the board,” Steve says. “Name something you do to get pumped up before a race.”

You ring the buzzer just before Max. “Listen to hype music!” You shout.

“Listen to hype music!” Steve repeats. “Let’s see if it’s up there!”

You hold your breath as the board flips, revealing your answer in the #2 spot. You and Charles high-five triumphantly.

“Alright, Red Bull, you can steal if you have a better answer,” Steve prompts.

Max thinks for a moment. “Visualize winning,” he tries.

“Good answer, good answer,” Steve nods. But it’s not there. You grin at Charles, knowing Ferrari has taken round one.

The game continues, both teams battling it out trying to guess the survey answers.

You and Charles can’t resist teasing your brother every chance you get.

“What might a Formula 1 driver do to unwind after a long race?” Steve asks next.

You buzz in with a sly smile. “Make love to their partner!”

Charles doubles over laughing as Max makes gagging noises, his face turning bright red.

“Wooowee, let’s see if our survey takers agree! Is making sweet sweet love to their partner on the board?” Steve chuckles. Unbelievably, it shows up as the #4 answer.

“Yes!” You shout, kissing Charles on the cheek. Max is shaking his head, looking like he wants to disappear. You blow him a taunting kiss, which just makes him cringe more.

“Red Bull, you gotta come back from this,” Steve says.

“Uhhh ... play video games,” Daniel guesses but the large red X that appears on the screen shows that Ferrari maintains the lead as you head into the final round.

“Alright, this is for the win. Ferrari just needs 9 points to end this right here,” Steve announces dramatically. “Name something you might find in an F1 driver’s motorhome.”

Charles rings in first. “Condoms!” He calls out, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laugh as Max lets out an anguished yell. “Stoooooop!”

“Survey says ... number three answer!” Steve announces. “Ferrari wins!”

Charles grabs you in a celebratory hug, spinning you around happily. You kiss him deeply, not caring that Max is fake vomiting behind you.

You break apart from your boyfriend, glancing back at Max still pretending to gag.

“Ugh get a room,” Max complains.

“Don’t worry, we plan to as soon as we get done with this,” you wink.

Max looks utterly disgusted as always.

“Alright folks, time for the Fast Money round!” Steve announces. “First up for Ferrari is Charles Leclerc!”

You blow Charles a flirty kiss as he takes the stage.

“Name something an F1 driver might eat before a race,” Steve begins.

Charles shoots you a shit-eating grin before winking at the camera. “Their beautiful girlfriend.”

You giggle as Max turns an unnatural shade of red alarmingly similar to your Ferrari branded shirt.

“Let’s see if the survey agrees!” Steve turns to the board.

No match but you don’t care.

Charles fires through the next few questions.

“Name something you’d pack for a race weekend.”

“Handcuffs,” he laughs at Steve’s scandalized expression.

You pretend to fan yourself while Max bangs his head against the podium in agony.

The buzzer sounds and Charles finishes strong. You give him a hug as you take the stage instead.

“Name something associated with F1,” Steve says.

“Fast cars and sexy drivers,” you reply with a wink towards Charles.

Charles blows you a kiss. Max looks ready to walk off stage or stab a mechanic with a fork.

You hope it’s the first option. One mechanic stabber in the family is more than enough, thank you very much.

You match Charles’ style, giving mostly normal answers until …

“Name something you pack for a weekend trip.”

You tap your chin playfully. “Lots and lots of lingerie.”

Charles whistles and cheers as you curtsy. Max is nearly crimson with embarrassment.

“And that’s the game!” Steve concludes. “Congratulations to Ferrari for their big win today on Celebrity Family Feud! $46,000 will be donated to Racing For Kids on your behalf.”

You leap into Charles arms, kissing him deeply. “That’s how it’s done, schatje!”

“We make an unstoppable team,” Charles smiles, dimples on full display, and you swear that some of the women in the audience swoon.

Max just shakes his head as he stomps to the exit. “You two need Jesus.”

But you’re too busy gazing adoringly at Charles to notice. Winning the show was fun but the real prize is having the love of your life by your side.

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ellemj · 5 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read part 1, part 2, or part 3 yet, you should probably head that way first.**

Summary: Round two doesn't go quite as either of you expected.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, near somnophilia, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to let me know in the comments if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I wish I could share the filthy mental image that I have for paragraph 10 of this, but sadly, it doesn't exist. How are we feeling here guys? Also, I'm fckin loving responding to you guys. I didn't expect to be so into it and it's just making me wanna take requests after this even more.

You awake suddenly, your eyes fluttering open and straining to adjust to the darkness around you. You’re on your right side, and as your eyes fully adjust, you realize that you’re lying inches away from none other than Bucky fucking Barnes. You’re already feeling overly feverish, with a flu-like body ache wracking your frame, and a pounding headache behind your eyes, but looking at him and remembering what you did earlier tonight adds a wave of nausea to the mix. How the fuck did the two of you let it get that far? You’re acutely aware of how exposed you are, with both of you having fallen asleep on top of the covers, there isn’t a blanket or anything that you can pull over yourself. You roll over as quietly as possible, moving to sit on the side of the bed and then reaching down to the floor and picking up your discarded t-shirt. You pull it over your head before checking your phone on the bedside table. 11:31pm. You’re three and a half hours in now. The pain that Bucky so kindly relieved for you earlier has returned, but it's rapidly worsening. You steal a glance at him over your shoulder. You’ve never seen him sleep before. Any overnight mission you’ve ever been on either involved one of the two of you being on night watch or, luckily, separate bedrooms. He looks peaceful like this, with his signature scowl missing and a serene expression gracing his features. You wonder if he looks like this every night, or only after sex. Something about the thought of him having sex any night other than tonight leaves an unfamiliar pang in your chest. However, you blindly chalk that pang up to being some random side effect caused by the chemical that’s working hard within you.

As you sit there on the side of the bed, the darkness enveloping you like a hug from a close friend, you feel it. That deep, unrelenting need to be touched again, to be fucked until you’re so full that the pain you feel right now melts away as if it never existed in the first place. You’re stronger than this. Just lay back down and go to sleep. Maybe if you dream about sex, your mind can trick your body into thinking it’s gotten what it needs and you can get through this without splintering your partnership any further. You can do this. Laying back on the bed as quietly and gently as humanly possible, you decide within yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t need his hands traveling along your searing skin, simultaneously cooling you down and making you feel impossibly hotter. You don’t need his dirty words filling the space between you and dancing around your mind until all you can think about is letting him take everything from you. And you most definitely don’t need his cock. His cock. Fuck, why did you let that into your head? Now all you can think about is the way he reached so deep inside of you, his girthy length stretching you enough that for a moment, the pain of his cock entering you for the first time was the only pain you felt in your entire body. You catch yourself tilting your head to the side to look at him again. He must’ve gotten up at some point while you were asleep to put his boxers back on, and honestly, fuck him for that. You’re left staring at his abs, at the way they rise up and drop back down so subtly with every breath he takes. Your eyes travel down his vibranium arm. You always liked his arm. Hell, you liked it even when it was silver with that damn red star. But now that it’s black and gold, built for strength and stealth, it looks like it belongs on him. Biting your bottom lip, you let your hand run up the front of your t-shirt, your fingertips deftly sliding beneath the collar of it and pulling his dog tags out so they’re no longer against your skin. You run your finger over the raised letters that spell out his name, wondering how many times he’s done the exact same thing himself. It’s almost calming. Or at least it would be if you weren’t currently replaying the moment that he pulled you in by those same dog tags earlier and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight.

A soft sigh leaves your lips and you know your resolve is crumbling, you know you’re seconds away from doing something you really shouldn’t do. Your thumb traces over the top inscription once more, James B Barnes. Fuck it. You didn’t have a plan when you threw your rational mind out the window, but suddenly you find yourself moving to straddle Bucky on the bed. As soon as your left leg crosses his lap and your drenched pussy is hovering inches above his clothed cock, he begins to stir, a low, pained groan rumbling past his lips. He needs this too, you’re sure of it, and that’s what encourages you to seat yourself on his lap. His eyes fly open now and he looks first at where your bodies are making contact, and then straight up at your flushed face. He’s died and gone to heaven. That’s what’s happened. He’s positive. When he sees you on top of him, wearing only a t-shirt and his dog tags, he has to wonder how yesterday’s mission went so unbelievably right that he ended up here. His hands are quick to find your hips, pushing your t-shirt up a little so he can touch your skin directly. The touch immediately soothes some of your bodily aching and you lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands resting on the bed, on either side of his head. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to think straight while he keeps his eyes trained on the little silver shapes dangling from your neck right in front of him.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” Bucky taunts after a few seconds of composing himself beneath you, a smirk playing on his lips. Even barely awake and caught off guard, he’s an ass. You shake your head and grind yourself down on his already hard cock, the friction making you fight back a moan that’s threatening to rise from your throat. He lets out a groan of pleasure now, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively and his eyes closing.

“Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Don’t act like you don’t need this too.” You retort, continuing your actions with your hips as you lower yourself down until your face is only an inch away from his. You let the tip of your nose brush against his and he opens his eyes, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “Be honest with me, you offered to do this as some kind of heroic act, but you secretly wanted this.” Bucky swallows audibly and you’re starting to get high off of the effect you have on him. Technically, it’s the effect that the chemical is having on him but you let yourself pretend for a moment that it’s all you. As your breath fans across his lips, he feels an unwelcome anger spreading through him. Anger stemming from the fact that you’d tease your lips in front of him like this, dangle something so tempting right in front of his face yet refuse to indulge him.

“Think what you want.” He huffs, his grip on your hips loosening and throwing you off guard momentarily. You freeze on top of him, backing away from his face a bit and trying to gauge his mood. He’s obviously horny enough to fuck, as evidenced by the hard-on that’s currently pressing against your soaked panties. Is he just trying to act like he doesn’t want it because you accused him of wanting it? God, the pounding headache intensifies and you scrunch your eyes shut. You really need to stop thinking.

“What’s got you so pissy?” You ask, sitting back fully on his lap and rubbing your temples with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand in that way that always worries Bucky in the field. You only do it when you’re struggling to make a decision or when you’re severely bothered by something, like bothered to the point of putting a bullet in some shithead’s thigh just to get them to talk. He wasn’t planning to say anything about it, truly. His plan was to fuck you until the only thing you can possibly do is moan his name. But to hell with it. He brings it up anyway.

“You took my cock so well tonight…” His voice is full of lust and has a teasing air to it, setting your nerves on fire. The way he praises you has your thighs clenching at his sides. “But you didn’t say my name one. Fucking. Time.” Ah, there it is. That’s what’s got him so pissy. You’re learning that he has a possessive streak, which isn’t your problem at all considering you’re not someone he can possess. He can get some other girl to moan his name, but you won’t be doing it.

“You didn’t give me any reason to.” You snap back. You’re lying. You know it and he knows it. He fucked you until you saw stars and made him promise not to pull out of you. His name was on the tip of your tongue more than once, but you restrained yourself for reasons he’ll never understand.

“Fine. If that’s the story you want to go with, that I didn’t do shit for you earlier, you can get yourself off.” He says smugly, that damn smirk appearing again as he sits up suddenly, pushing you off of him. You land on the bed next to him as he quickly shoves his boxers down his legs, tossing them on the floor and laying back once again. This time, that little shit lays back and places his hands behind his head in the most relaxed position you’ve ever seen him in. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, where it’s fully erect over his lower stomach and leaking clear drops of precum. Shit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it a little too hard, nearly drawing blood. You arch a brow at him, wondering why he stripped if he’s going to make you get yourself off. Just like he does in the field, he reads your mind from that one look. “You’re going to get yourself off on my cock…or not at all.”

You can’t say that you’re ashamed at how fast you mounted him and seated yourself down on his cock. You can’t even say that you despised him for making you put on a show for him like that. You lied to him and pretended like he didn’t give you the best sex of your life only an hour ago, so he chose this as your punishment. A punishment that you accepted and used to your advantage, riding the fuck out of his thick cock just like he told you to. At some point, your hands were braced on his chest as you bounced your ass up and down, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time you slid back down. This drew sounds from you that could turn any nightmare of his into a wet dream. Once you were right on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night, he was sure you were going to moan his name. Your head was tilted back, showing off all of that open kissable space along the column of your throat with his silver chain still draped around it, and he swears he saw his name flashing behind your closed eyelids. But you moaned out a simple fuck instead, and then you continued riding him until you both came, hard. For the second time tonight, as he empties his cock into your pretty little cunt, you both feel like you’re floating away on a pain-free cloud of euphoria. He glances over your shoulder a few minutes later when he sees you checking the time on your phone. 12:10 am. If his math is right, he may have as little as four hours left to get you to moan his fucking name.

Little does he know, that as you drift off to sleep next to him, under the covers this time, all you can think about is fully letting yourself go and moaning his name out while he fucks you in every position known to mankind.

Next Part

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praeluxius · 3 months

Text

c'est la vie - Kim Minju

Part 3 of folie à deux.

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male reader smut. (ft. a sprinkle of Wonyoung)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Masterlist word count: 10,553

c'est la vie - that's life

"I'm so fucked."

Fists clenched and eyes scrunched, you’re venting out loud to no one in particular. You repeat it, "I'm so fucked." Louder this time—to the sky. Well, more accurately, to the plastered ceiling of this little hole-in-the-wall. Either way, the solution isn't there.

It isn't at the bottom of a bottle either, but you're determined to find that out the hard way.

"Is there a friend I can call for you?" The woman behind the bar has stopped polishing off the glasses; interrupted by what she would say are the ramblings of a madman.

"There's no coming back from this." You throw your head forward, catching it in your now open hands, elbows resting on the wooden bar top.

"Sir? I'm going to call you a—"

"I don't need a cab." You draw your head from your hands and open your eyes—allowing the light to pour onto you from one of those little round lights above you. The drink sits in front of you, unfinished. Hard liquor in a tumbler just waiting to be thrown back like the three before it—a plea you can’t ignore. The large ice cube rests against your nose as you pour every last drop onto your tongue and swallow. "I do need another drink."

With the glass set back down, your body slouches and sinks. Eyes stare down at the empty glass and your face is cold to the world, cold to the woman across from you. You must reek of self-pity, the smell thick in the air.

Let’s be honest, you've had far better days.

She's got her delicate fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring you a fresh drink and placing it on a napkin, "you know, you're not the first person to stumble into this bar wearing a face like that."

You slide your eyes over to the glass and reach for it. "I highly doubt it."

"But, few of them show up this early, even if it is a Friday." She has a point: you’re propping up the bar alone and drowning your sorrows solo. In fact, there are only two other people in this whole place, sitting together at a table. "So what’s your story?"

"Does there have to be one?" You grip the glass in your hand, giving the stranger the best smile you can fake.

She steps back and brushes her hand on her trousers as she laughs, "I've seen many broken men and women sit at this bar and spend too many hours drinking their life savings, with hearts broken, dreams smashed and most of all, mistakes they regretted. But you seem different."

"Oh really, why's that?" Your eyes stare into your drink. It stares right back at you.

"You're still young."

"Does being broken have an age requirement?"

She shifts and reaches for something, something you can't quite make out, being locked in the most intimate of stares with your drink. It’s the sound of her placing down another fresh glass that gives it away. "Actually, yes. Because you've still got time to work with."

"That's the irony. All I have left is time."

“Then you have to believe in yourself to make the most of that time.” Her words are heavy, like their meaning holds weight within her too.

She lets you dwell on it for a moment while she pours her own drink. She settles herself against the bar top, across from you, resting her head in one open hand. Her gaze burns into you like sitting in the sun. You can feel something else too, a soft vibration in your pocket.

You finally break away from your staring contest with your drink—one you lost anyway—to fish your phone out of your pocket. The screen alights with Gaeul’s name and is followed by the words ‘1 new message’.

After a swipe, it reads, ‘wtf where are you? what happened?’ but the thought of sending a reply never crosses your mind. And, just in case, you switch it over to silent.

“Is that her?” The woman gently waves a slender finger towards your phone as you put it back where you found it. “The reason you’re here?”

"Do you press all your customers like this?"

“Only the interesting ones,” she returns her hand to her glass, taking a sip of it before continuing, “and there’s sadly so few of those.”

"And if I'm not as interesting as you think?"

"Then I'll buy you a drink.” She tilts her glass at you. "For the trouble."

"And if I'm fascinating?"

"I'll still buy you a drink." Another sip from her glass as her lip gloss stains the rim, "maybe two."

"Then no, it wasn't her." And here's the thing, you don't know who to blame. Yourself? Probably. Wonyoung? Maybe. The mystery cameraman who got it all on video? Almost definitely.

“But it is another woman, right?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m not exactly rushed off my feet here.”

You sigh, unsure exactly where to begin with this whole mess. The complete story is a long one. You could tell her about your family—the trouble at home and why you had to leave—but that’s not for anyone to know.

"I transferred here. Moved here with my brother. He's at work right now, and he will be late into the evening." You pause to take another drink. Another burning sensation. "To keep food on our table and keep me in college."

Even saying so little it weighs on you, the feelings of regret and the feeling that you're saying too much. You bite your tongue and hesitate.

"So why are you here and… you know... not at college?" She pushes you for more. She flicks a finger towards you with her free hand and then brings her glass to her lips.

You drag your eyes up for the first time and finally inspect the woman across from you.

She's your age, roughly—if you had to guess. She's pretty, and that part you're more confident about. She wears her long brunette hair over one shoulder, running in a loose wave, over her slate black blazer, which sits over a small black tee, cropped at the waist. She smiles when your eyes meet hers. And maybe she had no idea, and perhaps it's all subconscious, but the tips of her slender fingers squeeze slightly against the glass now that you're paying her some attention.

"I never got your name," you say with curiosity laden in your voice.

"Minju."

"And why is a young woman like you working here on a Friday afternoon?"

"Were you not the one telling me about your troubles?" She follows her words with a soft laugh.

"Call it quid pro quo. You answer and then I’ll tell you all about it," you say.

"Fine." She stands back upright, adjusting her blouse with a few gentle touches. The way her finger glides across the collar and tugs at it slightly. It's more than a little distracting. She cuts a sleek hourglass shape out of the shelves of bottled booze behind her. "I'm between gigs right now."

"Gigs?"

"Ah." She waves a finger. "My turn."

Minju tilts her head and then rests her palm against the bar—leaning toward you and eyes focused. It’s like an inspection and you instinctively sit up straighter.

"So why are you here?" she asks.

"Expelled. About..." You bring up your wristwatch into view. "About an hour ago."

Her brows go up a fraction and her eyes narrow on you again, almost as if to accuse you of lying to her. But her expression softens almost instantly. You would never notice if not for watching every second in painstaking detail. Her widening eyes reveal to you the thoughts passing through her mind as she racks her brain for a reason you would be expelled.

"You said that you're between gigs, so what is it you do?" you say, shifting the focus back away from yourself.

"I sing. I dance. I model. I act." She pauses with a bitter look. "However, right now, I serve drinks." You get it; she looks the part. That much is clear. She's far too gorgeous to be spending her time polishing glasses and serving screwdrivers to burnouts at happy hour. She looks every bit like a woman who should be so much more, but this isn't Hollywood, and the storybook tale of the waitress who makes it is so cliché.

You swill the last of your drink around in the glass, watching the little tidal pattern inside. The way the ice cube moves with the current, it hypnotises, entrances. You speak, looking down into the amber-hued ocean within your glass.

"And you have the talent to back up the looks?"

"So they tell me." There's no joy in the words or the tone. No pride or smug sense of achievement. If anything, it's dismissive. “It’s just a slow period. That’s life.”

“C’est la vie.” You catch her gaze as you utter the phrase under your breath.

Minju continues despite you, “but things will turn around soon enough. I'm going places."

"Every actor who is going places never seems to get there." Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's because, right now, you hate this city and everyone in it, but everything that comes out of your mouth is uncharacteristically curt.

And look, you regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth but that doesn't change the way you just dismissed her. It wasn't meant personally, but it's hard to stop your thoughts from curdling into words right now.

Minju is quiet, and the air becomes heavy. You swallow deep and finally look her in the eyes again. There's something there, some little flicker of emotion untold that gives her away for a moment. She is a woman told repeatedly that she has the world at her feet, but the hard truth of it is that she's here, working away behind the bar because, in fact, life is a lot more cruel.

Absorbed by her vulnerability, you feel the need to backtrack, "that's not—"

"So what, you look at me and see nothing but a girl who couldn't cut it?" There's a flash of fire in her eyes. A burn. A spark that sets the sky alight. A very attractive spark.

The way she fires it back. The passion in her words. The tension building between you as your eyes linger on each other.

You can't explain the attraction, but you can certainly feel it.

"No," you fire back without hesitation, leaning towards her, "what I see is a woman working two jobs just to afford a place to live." Your confidence rises with the alcohol pumping its way through your system and you do your damnedest to rescue the situation. "What I see is a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that somehow she still keeps alive where so many more have given up. I'm not judging."

Silence.

Sudden, silent, and slightly sinister.

"Yeah, you were," Minju's eyebrows arch in amusement, "but that's fine, I'll take my turn now."

As she leans forward, there are words on her tongue. She looks ready to bite back, but she's looking over you, across the room, watching the only other two people in the bar leave. And for a minute, everything is held in suspense, you are locked together in silence, the clap of their shoes echoing through it. Then the sound of the door, and the brief exposure to the outside world, it's the rain pouring and the cars passing by and then it's the slam shut. It's just you and her, Minju, alone under the dim of the lights.

"So what was it?" she finally breaks the silence.

"Hm?"

"What got you expelled?"

You could lie. There's an opportunity for that. But what's the point? Even though she's a stranger, it doesn't feel like there's a risk if you just come clean and spill your dirty little secret, besides, you owe her one now.

"I got caught fucking in the library." The truth comes out plain and simple. It’s a brazen statement to make in the middle of the afternoon to a stranger. Her gaze shoots down at you. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that.

"I’m sorry, you were caught fucking in the library?" She repeats it out quizzically as if she’s taking time to process. Minju has this way of talking—a lilt in her voice. She has a tone and a pitch that rises and falls with each word. She's amused, that much is clear, by the slight smirk that has curled a corner of her mouth to accompany her sound.

"We were alone, or at least we thought we were, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before, but apparently, there's evidence." You gesture your empty glass at her, a secondary conversation, unspoken but clear that you need another drink before you tell her anything else.

In doing so you see how she tenses her lips together, holding in her laughter at the thought. She’s holding and you’re watching until she finally cracks, her grin wide and laughter loud.

"Now I am the one judging you. You made fun of me for trying while you're too busy swinging your cock around to even try. So, you tell me, who is the stupid one here?"

"Alright I deserved that one." Your hand had been holding the empty glass to her but now you bring it to rest against the bar top. "In my defence, it's not like I had much of a choice. That girl..."

"Here we go. Let's see how you justify this one." She finally takes your empty glass and when the edge of her fingers brushes across the back of your hand, they linger for far too long. And when she draws back, dragging away those long, delicate fingers from your own, you find yourself suddenly cold.

"It's not like I could turn her down if I wanted to. Also I would never have done it in the library if she didn't make me."

"She 'made' you. Go on." There's scepticism in the words. Her mocking tone teasing you as you watch her turn to the shelves behind her, eyes scanning the possibilities.

"No one says no to her. Never."

"Wow, sounds like quite a woman," she says, ever more playful, as she reaches for the top shelf. Her blazer is pulled up now, ever so slightly exposing her back above the waist of her trousers. Trousers hugging the subtle swell of her hips. Her small, tight, round ass is defined through the fitted fabric. You can't look away.

"Everything comes easily for her. There are literally men fighting for her affections. They would die for her," the words tumble from your mouth, as your gaze lingers.

You must have been lost in the daze and absent-mindedly following the contours of her thighs because by the time you shift focus to her face, she's peering at you from over her shoulder. Eyes sharp as daggers, as if to say it’s a little too obvious.

"Wow she sounds like a real piece of work. I know someone like that too. " Minju turns with bottle in hand, hair swirling around her as she does so. She's graceful. Unbothered and unhurried by anything. "This one is perfect. This bottle is older than me."

She pours two fresh drinks with more ice in each.

"Am I going to regret this in the morning?" you question as the weight of the glass finds your hand.

"You might. But at this moment? No."

You trust her, somehow, inexplicably; you do.

She asks, “so, what will you do now?” it’s a question as funny as it is difficult to answer.

The truth is that you haven’t got the slightest clue. You tell her as much and try to explain it as best you can, and her eyes soften as you share the details. It’s supposed to be a back-and-forth—quid pro quo—but she’s pressing you with question after question: how long have you known her? Is she pretty? Where does she see you in all of this?

“You and her. Still a thing?”

Minju is on your side of the bar now, sitting by your side with little caution about personal space; there’s not an inch of space between you. Her thigh presses against you and her upper arm is flush with your own.

"Me and Wonyoung were never a thing, not really."

Minju stops dead and chokes, holding her throat, and forcing the drink down. Her whole body shifts. She nearly falls off the bar stool and, after steadying herself, she stares blankly forwards.

"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?"

"Yeah, her." The new drink meets your lips and its taste is a hell of a lot richer than the cheap stuff you were pouring down. It’s laden with a smoky taste over sweet tones.

There's a silence even after you finish taking a drink. Something untold hangs in the air. You know it. She knows it. She's here on the verge of telling you something, but what? And you sit here and wait, despite the racing of your heartbeat.

"I should have known." Minju shakes her head, laughing, but without a smile.

"Should've known what?"

"You're Wonyoung's new toy. I should have guessed as soon as I saw you, she has this effect on people."

You stiffen at that. It's always the truth that hurts the most and the fact is you really were just a toy. A convenient dildo.

"You know what you need right now?" She twists on the stool, and suddenly, you've got Minju looking straight at you. Eyes locking with you. Right there. Looking up at you. So close. Right there, leaning back ever so slightly so her chest arches towards you, accentuating her small breasts, straining against her shirt.

"Drinking helps," you reply, raising your glass.

"Yes, but so does fucking."

That’s a line. It’s one that shouldn’t come as a surprise because a girl like this probably has a lot of experience in being wanted, so who is to say she can’t turn the table for once? But in one breath you’re giddy, taken out of yourself and feeling drunker by the moment. Not on the booze, but her. She is intoxicating.

It takes you a few seconds to notice but her free hand slips on your leg, rubbing and caressing as it snakes further and further up.

"What?" You ask as if it needs confirmation and in those long few moments, you think you must have imagined it. And the same way a nervous laughter rises, the laughter spilling out of your throat, she is quick to quench the growing dread inside of you by sliding her palm across your bulge.

"Wait here." Something has switched inside her. You don’t know what, but either way, it's got her standing up and strutting towards the door. With each step, she opens her body language. A growing swagger, letting you see the sway of her hips. Left and right. Just enough to catch the eye. And oh boy, does your eye get caught. You couldn't pull your gaze away now if you wanted to.

She's swiping hands at the door now and flicking the locks. Then she's pulling the blinds shut. A giggle comes from Minju as she spins back to face you. She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and stares right into you.

You feel exposed but, strangely, comfortable. It's so very odd; with no clue as to what happens next. It has your heart pounding out of your chest.

"I thought you were alone tonight because you were upset, but no, I understand it now. You're frustrated. Angry. Stressed. She used you and got away with it."

She kicks off her heels, loses a few centimetres in height, and is walking barefoot across the floor - toward you. Her shoulder rolls to one side and then to the other as her body rises and falls, sashays with the pace of her hips. She can see that you're stuck. You’re rooted to the seat with a dumb look on your face, and yet she saunters ever closer.

“I am a little confused,” you finally say. She's so close that all your senses are lost to the approach of Minju's swaying frame. Her curves, her body, her gentle steps, the way her perfume smells—it's consuming you.

She ignores you and continues, "I’m frustrated too. I'm so frustrated that I'm wasting time in this damn bar. I'm angry at all the auditions that ended up with producers rejecting me. I know exactly what you're feeling. You're angry at the world and everyone in it." Her tone grows raspier. More raw and less stable. "You feel alone. Hung out to dry and in need of attention."

"And you feel the same?"

"Yes, and I'm hungry. Starved of any real satisfaction. You told me I’m going nowhere and I guess it means I need a little attention, too."

You watch her eyes flittering as she looks you up and down. The sultry grin she wears shows she likes what she sees.

"So what are you going to do about it, Minju? What is the solution?" You drop a look down to the soft and slender flesh of her neck.

"No strings. We get this all out of our system." Minju leans in. Lips so close to yours. She stays there. It's torture. "You let all that shit out. Take out your pent-up stress, frustration, anger."

"On you?"

"Exactly. You'll feel better. I will too. Because right now…" Her nose presses against the side of your own. Soft skin. Gentle pressure. "I need it rough."

Her hand lands on your thigh again, rubbing down the denim of your jeans.

The offer is enticing. It has your head swimming with dirty images of everything the two of you could do together, and your cock? Well, that's already twitching in your underwear.

"This isn’t going to help, it will just make things worse."

"Can they really get any worse?"

Minju brings your hand, hers and yours, to her waist. Your thumb feels the soft material of her shirt, and your fingers touch that small patch of skin below it.

"Are we prepared to find out?" Your lips graze gently against hers. The thrill. The electricity in the air.

"I’m ready. More than ready. Just this once, do what you want to do and make me the star of your fantasy. Use me. Make me everything you need." She plants her lips firmly on yours. You both go quiet, muffled by a kiss.

Nothing to do but feel.

Minju's grip tightens on your leg, and yours on her waist. The other hand slides up to her chest, finding her breast, cupping it and feeling her. She opens her mouth. And you follow. Your tongues are colliding and sweeping across one another, eager and desperate.

So you push, guiding the two of you to stand. Minju staggers back, and you're with her every step of the way. Stumbling through a kiss. Hands everywhere. Uncertain. Lost, confused, and passionate. It's an incoherent tumble that takes you both crashing through chairs, pushing them aside until you hit something sturdy. Minju's ass slams against the pool table and she grunts into your mouth.

Her lips drag away and she smiles. "Fuck me."

You grab her by the hips, lifting her onto the pool table.

"I need to see the big cock that’s got Wony all worked up. She wouldn’t settle for anything disappointing." She's fumbling at your waist, struggling with the buckle of your jeans.

"This what you want?" Your words vibrate through her. And when you take a handful of her hair and tug, there's a long, soft, desperate sigh from Minju's parted lips.

"Use me. Abuse me." Her fumbling finally succeeds and the waist of your trousers slackens. "I know how I look, but don't worry, you're not going to break me."

She's pushing at your trousers, your boxers, and when that stiff dick pops out, her smile spreads into a big, stupid grin. It's not an unattractive expression—not really. It just tells the truth. She is excited.

It’s as clear as day that you are too. You’re rock hard, stiff as hell, ready to fuck, and this, this will give you the chance to let it all out. All of it.

"Perfect." Minju grabs your cock in both hands, still warm, throbbing, and strong. "Just look at this thing."

You pull on her hair again, harder, until she breaks away from you, until she gives way—losing the grip on your cock and falling back on the table. And now you slow as if to savour the moment as you’re sliding your fingers under the waist of her trousers. Not often you get afforded a measure of control.

"C’mon, please, don't be gentle," Minju moans out through gritted teeth. The desperation is painted on her face and that’s the difference here: while a girl like Wonyoung wouldn’t let you go slow, Minju is the type of girl who makes you not want to go slow.

So you pull at the trousers of the girl sprawling out in front of you, tearing the button from the fabric, yanking them open and pulling them down those long, slender legs. The flesh is soft. And to touch, so smooth and light. Minju's breathing picks up—becoming shorter and deeper with each touch to her sensitive skin.

"I might leave marks."

Minju stares you down, hands already massaging over her panties. "I hope you will."

The thought is intoxicating, so much more so than the alcohol in your blood, as your hands paw over her legs; you knead soft skin with a kind of aggression you haven't felt before.

Minju is a rare girl.

Beautiful. And by definition, beautiful women have seen it all before.

But her?

The look she gives? Like no man has ever fully satisfied the itch within her. It's deep-set hunger. The kind that she chases endlessly for.

This hunger makes people behave stupidly, careless and forgetful of the consequences. And maybe you know that all too well but even still it's a risk worth taking. Every choice has led you here and maybe that is your solace, that it's not all downhill from here.

And as your hands reach her small satin panties, the warmth embraces you, and the urge within you grows. You hook your fingers inside and draw the panties aside to expose the tight pink flesh of Minju's cunt.

Not that you would expect anything else, but she is clean-shaven. So smooth. Not a single blemish. This is a girl who kept herself neat and pristine, and yet from her mouth spills utter filth, "just look at how wet this pussy is for you."

She's running her fingers between her lips, showing you everything she has to offer between her legs, showing you where she expects you dick will get put to use.

"This tight fucking cunt can take everything your thick cock has to give."

"Minju, you’re so..." You're standing over her, her legs spread wide beside you, blazer falling from her shoulders leaving nothing covering her but that low-cut top.

Minju stares right at you, eyes fixed, wide and eager, her chest heaves with every deepening breath she takes in. She's wild, reaching for you with one hand, stretching to hold you and then pulling at your shirt to draw you in.

"I'm so needy. Please fuck me." She's whining through closed lips as her other hand slips away from her pussy and glides over her taut abs and leaving her cunt ready to be used. She wants it, desperately, and you're drawing it out. Making it build inside her, and you hold your cock in your hand.

You're stroking, and she's watching. And for all her strain to pull at your shirt, to pull you into her, you hold back. You hold just long enough. Enough for her arm to fall limp. Enough for her to almost give in. "Please..." she trails off with a whimper.

You push the head of your stiff cock against her cunt—against her clit. Your hips roll as you run the entire underside of your cock between her lips. She gasps and breathes deeply. She's holding it all the while. All the time it takes for you to draw your cock back, so the tip is right there. Ready.

She let's go as you do. The air escapes her lungs with a sharp squeal. You let your cock sink in. Slow but persistent, you push further and further, feeling her tensing. Then the clench and tightness overwhelms. She gasps and squirms, wriggles beneath you and her nails scratch at the fabric of the table beneath her.

You push again, sinking your cock as far as you can through her wet hole.

There's a loud snap and squeal from Minju. Pretty girl broke a nail. It flew off somewhere across the room, such is her grip onto the table. "Fuck. So fucking full," she manages, barely. It's more the noise you force from her than any actual communication.

You draw your hips back and she's quick to encourage you, "again," she says.

Your hips are driving forward again, pushing every last centimetre back through her.

Minju whimpers. There's this short, sweet purr from deep within her. You feel her stretch, she moves a little, adjusting herself atop the pool table. There's a warmth that swells, tightens, and pulsates. And you feel the breath come easier. It leaves her as though her body has settled to a kind of ease and pleasure, some form of satisfaction.

You refuse to let her rest. It's not what she would want.

It's not what you want.

You run your hands along her inner thighs, past her knees until you finally reach her ankles and pull them together and hold them aloft. You lift and pull her ass up slightly from the table. She's suspended now while you fuck into her.

The shake of her small frame is completely erotic. Watching her ass and thighs jiggle as you fuck into her. That plump little ass taking slap after slap from your hips.

Her perfect skin reddens as her moans louden the longer you last. There are high-pitched squeals and low and gritty growls. They bounce around the empty bar, reverberating and multiplying—echoing back louder than before.

"Harder." She thinks she can take more. Look, Wonyoung was demanding, she wanted to control everything and push your limits, but Minju? Minju is whole different type of demanding. She's welcoming everything you have with every fibre of her being. Her pussy so eagerly taking it all, and it just seems like no matter what limit you push past, or the more Minju takes, the more she craves.

You pull her legs to you, calves on your shoulders, feet in the air, and your hands move firmly onto her hips. You steady her—ready her. Your grip bruises the tender skin (hey, it's what she wants) and then you fuck her like your life depends on it. Your cock pumping inside with reckless abandon.

"Keep going! Just like that! Fuck!" her voice rises over the rhythm of your low grunts, and the crack of your hips slapping against her ass.

Minju's face twists, red and flushed. She's so tense. Muscles tight around the neck and her teeth buried in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Her voice is low and raw, growling, as she pleads for more with words you can't pretend to understand. It's not eloquent or graceful... In fact, it's that incoherence that makes this all the better—so utterly unbothered, unconcerned with anything other than being thoroughly used, fucked and defiled.

She has that hungry glaze in her eyes when you look down upon her, a girl being exactly the kind of filthy thing she promised to be. And those eyes only draw you in, you're pushing over her, folding her legs further against her body until she's truly helpless. Pinned to the table. Bent in two. No ability, nor want, to stop you from dominating her.

"I'm gonna—" she tries to speak until you press down, right into her. She squeezes your cock inside that tight, creaming hole. Then she whines, loud.

So loud.

Her back would arch high if it could. But she can't break free. You have her completely immobilized with your upper bodyweight. And fuck does she love every second of it. She's got handfuls of her shirt, pulling it, clutching, writhing. Ecstasy courses through her and eyes roll.

And now she's rolling, you're turning her. Ankles in your hands, you have pulled out and you're flipping her onto her front, face down into the table. She’s just… accepting it. Not an ounce of fight in her. Not even a word. Just a throaty moan.

"Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” you’re ordering, “give me your hands.”

She reaches her arms back over her subdued body and lets you take her delicate wrists.

She submits.

Just lying there prone, her delicate body against the table, with that tight little ass perched on the edge of it, and that skimpy underwear still pushed aside for her throbbing cunt. Those slender legs left hanging either side of you. And go on, you're allowed to think it in the simplest of terms; Minju is sexy. In a word, that's it. Sexy. And yet, the reality is there's so much more you can say. Every soft curve of her toned body is alluring, she is magnetic and inviting, and that cute face peering over her shoulder, long hair spilled all behind it. All the words in the world couldn't do justice to describe her—couldn't properly capture the image.

"What are you going to do to me, daddy?" Oh, she says it so seamlessly, slips it in like it's been on her lips for a while - floating in the atmosphere since you took control. And now that it's finally landed, you feel its weight. It has her voice different; smokey and dripping with sex. And it hits you straight between your legs.

She licks her lips and tests it out again, just for good measure: "what does daddy think I deserve?"

One hand holding her wrists against the small of her back, another gripping her hip. Her legs sway lazily, unable to reach the floor. Helplessly dangling, waiting for her fate. And you're not a man to disappoint a girl like Minju.

"I'm going to use the needy little slut in front of me," you say as the head of your stiff cock probes at her cunt, slipping between her wet lips and sliding against her swollen clit. Teasing her.

You draw it back up again and pushing apart her ass cheeks with the length of your cock. Slipping under the thin fabric of her soaked panties.

She bites her lower lip and whimpers through her teeth. The head of your wet cock slides against her tight asshole, and her hips twitch back. "Whatever you need, take it from me." She means that. There's yearning in every word. The hunger and desire in her voice growing thicker.

You push against her, cock sandwiched between her cheeks, pushing your weight down and pressing her against the table. Her eyes close for a moment, her fingers curl into her palms.

"Yes. Fuck," Minju's desperate encouragement spills through clenched teeth.

You pull back your cock and replace it with your thumb, sliding your hand over her ass and slipping it against her puckered hole.

"Please da—" You slip the tip of your thumb just inside her ass and hold it there while she holds her breath.

Anticipation—

Waiting—

Knowing what's coming next.

Minju is completely still as you drive your cock into her cunt again. Sinking yourself in so deep—balls deep. Her hands become tight fists and her whole body is shaking. You withdraw and plunge again, and she hisses, breathing from the bottom of her lungs, ragged and shallow, and fighting to speak.

"I'm a dirty, needy, little slut and you’re going to use me—"

You spit at her spread ass, right onto your thumb, and use it to dig a little deeper. "What are you?" your question provokes an instant answer,

"I'm a horny slut. I'm a fuck-hole. That's what I am."

As if it's a reward for her honesty, you fuck her a little harder. Push your thumb a little deeper. She smiles through a howl of ecstasy, the sound swelling into the room.

"Tell me again," you command with another pump of your hips, stretching her even more with your thumb.

Her words crackle, dying in her throat with each impact of your hips, "I'm just a dumb girl who needs to be full of cum."

No sane man would refuse it. Not you, not anyone. Definitely not you at all. You couldn't resist any part of her, but especially not that filthy demand. Especially not with how you felt watching those gorgeous fucking curves ripple every time your hips slapped against her ass.

It's all so easy, how you continue, keeping pace. Thumb deep in her ass. Balls smacking against her soaked pussy with every thrust. It's a pleasure all too overwhelming—a thrill, a sensation, a powerful sense of utter fucking satisfaction and all-consuming desire—an erotic overflow inundates, a swell, an ever-growing crest inside your balls.

"Minju. I'm. Gonna—"

"Cum in me? Please." She's the hallmark of innocence-gone-wrong; the way such words roll off her tongue with playful ease. And she knows all the right ones. The ones that she knows will bring all the right reactions. To speak to you on a primal level. She's at it again, cutting into you, "Inside— Inside me."

Cutting through you like the blade of a knife, right to your core and you obey—fuck.

"Daddy please."

You're incensed.

Dogged with the pounding you're giving her, you have lost control of just how deep you have your thumb in her ass. This is so Indecent. Obscene, even. For you, or for anyone, to just... enjoy something like this. Your body is roaring with lust as her ass and cunt both squeeze on you, clamping you as you drive yourself to the brink.

"I wanna... feel your hot load," her voice comes shaking through the unabated pounding you're inflicting. "Fill me please," she's begging and it sounds a little clearer now, stronger, a little louder, no doubt because she knows it's almost done.

You tug at her wrists, pulling her arms back and her body away from the table. Her head hangs forward beneath a wave of hair. Face covered by sweat streaks across those pretty sculpted features.

"Please, I'll be a good girl and take every drop. All the fucking cum that daddy has. Make me your stupid dirty little slut," she compels, then yelps with every new slam and stroke of the stiff cock being buried into her again and again.

That tight asshole, and that cock-hugging pussy. All the relentless slamming that you have done and will do. All the desires, with the pent-up frustration, the rage and anger and tension that has built up—you release it. Everything goes as you send your load rushing through your cock to paint her insides.

Pushing everything you have in. Pumping. Driving hard.

Her squeals are like music to the soul. Relief and rapture are overflowing. And fuck. What a ride. What a rush. You pump her full until she's gasping for air, struggling in your grasp and making sure to moan each and every dirty word into the atmosphere as she fights to hold on. What a thrill. And as the two of you hit the limits of physical exhaustion and exhilaration, you pull back. Letting the girl lay there, spent, and filled, on the pool table.

Used.

Satisfied.

Sullied.

Minju to you, today, is a feeling of freedom. Fulfilment. Absolution. As she lay limp, arms out, legs hanging, hair draped over her face and pooling on the table—a girl well fucked and on display. She is satisfaction. And she is dripping with your cum.

She slips her fingers under her panties. That shrivelled piece of fabric that clings, or struggles to. Now she pushes them off her hips and they tumble over her feet.

When this beautiful girl speaks her voice has the distinct scratch of someone whose lungs have had the oxygen stolen from them, her throat sore with moaning, "I need more."

She moves to her back and you can only watch in amazement as she turns to you with that flush face. One of her small, delicate hands falling between her legs and her dainty fingers tracing around her cunt—through her pink folds, and dousing them in your leaking cum.

There's a knock at the door. It rattles in the frame. "Open up!" It's the voice of the young man seeking an afternoon drink. You think that, luckily, hopefully, between the blinds, the posters and the neon lights in the windows along with the dim lighting, he can't see in.

"Fuck off!" Minju shouts. Her chest is heaving, and there are the gentle lulls of a giggle welling in her throat.

You notice she hasn't moved the fingers away from her swollen and sticky cunt. There's a building cackle, almost as if she is going to fall into hysterics.

"Let me in! You should be open!"

"I said fuck off!" Minju's climbing from the table with a wild smile on her face. Cum is trailing from her cunt, pooling, oozing, dripping down her thigh, down her leg. Her tongue slides over her lips, she's eying you up like a tiger.

"I want to ride your thick cock." She's breathing the words out heavy and finally pulling that shirt over her head. Small round breasts exposed. Stiff dark nipples. Hard and taught. That bare torso. Tight and tone. Firm and solid. Every muscle defined under glistening, sweaty skin.

She pushes herself against you until you push between a pair of stools and your ass plants against the bar. "You made me a dirty girl, and now I can't stop."

You find her strength a little unnerving, the way seems so unphased and determined. She's running on pure adrenaline. It's hot, sure, a kind of raw passion is certainly not without appeal, but also maybe a touch too overpowering. The way that she grabs at you, a touch forceful, and the way you come together is perhaps too rough and less than elegant.

So unkempt, un-romantic, yet so insanely gratifying as her soft skin finds yours.

You take her body in your arms, lips on one another, exploring mouths with tongues. Grasping the round cheek of her ass as she lifts her left thigh up to your waist. Hand trailing between the two of you and then grabbing a firm hold of your cock, guiding the thing back to her pussy—and not letting go.

This is it. This is where she belongs.

It’s all so natural for her to be on the end of your cock, so much so that she can casually pull away from the kiss to switch her focus to finding a drink on the bar behind you. She’s taking a drink of it now and some of it spills from the corner of her mouth.There is something undignified in that, but utterly perfect nonetheless.

She's grinding against you now, swirling her hips and cooing like a little kitten, as your hands move over her ass and that silken smooth back.

Minju sets the empty glass back down on the bar, and pulls back to meet your eyes. She presses a finger to her tongue, her eyes gleaming and focused solely on you, as she guides a small, playful trail of drool to run over her glistening tits. "Fuck," she breathes through a grin, taking both her hands and smoothing that drool over her chest.

Another knock at the door. Another fist pounded into its frame.

All these fucking interruptions.

"Ugh! Fuck this. Come on, follow me." And before you know it, she's guiding you across the room. "I'm going to ride you until I can't walk. Until I'm so sore that every step will remind me what it felt like to have you deep inside me."

Your phone rings, on the floor in the pocket of your trousers. Who would call right now? Just as one interruption finally concedes at the door, another emerges.

Minju bends to fish it out of your trousers. Her little ass, one cheek marred with a handprint from your grasp, is so close you could bend forward and eat it (any other time, you would.) but it's not that which intrigues you the most. When she rises, slowly, your phone is in her grasp, screen displaying Wonyoung's name.

"This should be fun," Minju chuckles to herself. She swipes the answer button and raises the device to her ear. "Hello?"

Minju reaches out to hold your hand and pulls you toward the staff only door. "Sorry, he's a little busy right now," she says as she walks through the door with you in tow. Her head pivots. Minju stares, eyes boring deep into yours. That sultry expression. The spark of desire igniting all over again.

Minju turns on her heel, letting you go and taking a step back. Thin fingers stroke over her cum-soaked thigh, up and along her wet lips, higher and past her flat stomach, sliding between her firm tits. "He is really busy."

She points at the couch in the break room, gesturing you to sit. You oblige, a little nervous about the turn of events. She's rubbing at her perky little tits as she speaks, "do you want me to take a message?"

"Minju..." you say with warning, ready to take the phone off her. But it's so hard to ignore how utterly sexy she is, and your hand starts to stroke along your shaft. She turns her body and poses, looking over her shoulder to you, and she grins. Minju affords you all the time you need to admire her while she listens to the ramblings of Wonyoung through your phone.

Minju steps toward you, looking down at you. "You need to speak to him?" She rests a hand on your shoulder, and then she clambers over you, straddles you. Her leaking cunt right above your cock. She licks her lips and rubs her slick pussy over your stiff dick, eyes focused on you, head tilted down. "Give me one second."

She holds the phone against her collar and shifts above you, resting the tip of your cock against her hole.

"Minju, let me—"

She sinks onto your cock.

Inch by pleasurable inch, she takes you. Minju rocks forward and adjusts to settle on the length of your rod. Fully hilted and stuffed. She's a slick sheath of velvet on your stiff rod and you realise then just how perfectly she fits on you. You bite your tongue, trying to not make a noise so you don't alert the woman on the other end of the phone. Minju, however, is careless, and she lets out a soft moan as she shifts on you, readying herself.

Cum still seeps out of her cunt and down your shaft—your own and hers in some messy cocktail. The smell is sharp but unmistakable. It hangs in the air as the unmistakable evidence of what has happened and what will happen again. It’s so potent; invigorating and exciting. A reminder of everything and more, as if you would ever forget it—as if you could ever forget what she has become for you.

Minju draws the phone back to her face and, with a cocky smirk parting her lips, she speaks again, her voice breathy and full of lust.

"He's in a bit of a tight spot right now." She throws you a wink and continues, "give him ten—wait, no—give him fifteen minutes and whatever is left of him is all yours."

There's the sound of a voice coming through the phone, so unmistakably Wonyoung's but you can't make a word of it out. There's another sound, one much dirtier, that fills the air between the two of you. The soft squelching as Minju rocks and rotates those full hips on you.

"Sorry, what was that?" Minju is stifling a giggle and not-really trying to keep the naughtiness of the situation in check. "Yeah, Wonyoung,you’re right. It's me, Minju," she purrs, biting her lip as her eyes fix on you. Then her tongue flits from her lips, sweeping from left to right.

‘It's me, Minju.’

Look, it’s not really a surprise that they know each other well. It was always a possibility that Minju had just heard of Wonyoung but had never really been acquainted. Thinking back, however, the strength of her reaction to the girl’s name should have told you everything. The truth is now ever so clear.

Not that Minju is going to let you process it. She will not allow you to focus on anything other than the caress of her pussy over your sensitive cock. She's elegant with the movements of her hips—the motions subtle and slow. Her pace is sinful. She's running her tongue over her teeth and staring at you, enjoying the quiet grunts that rattle from your throat.

"He showed up in—" Her breath hitches and she catches a moan in her throat before it escapes. "In the bar, drinking alone."

There's a gasp, then another as she strokes her hands through the locks of your hair. "Yeah. He was doing that." She's laughing under her breath and looking you up and down. "That thing with his hand, yeah, it's cute."

“What? No. I wouldn’t.” You’re getting half a conversation and none of it makes any sense.

She reaches out her hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing the line of your jaw and her body leaning in. "He's got a sexy jaw line," she admits and then picks up the speed of her movement.

Her hand slides down your neck and presses into your collar. "His body?" Minju hums as her hips are churning; her body is rolling and her abs are flexing. "Yeah, I think so too."

Minju's back arches and her tiny tits bounce as her movement changes, bouncing rhythmically on your cock. She's adjusting and getting more comfortable on you. As the seconds pass, she's getting rougher and moving ever faster.

Fuck.

"Well, he's drunk, so it's no surprise."

It's been no end of strange situations over the past couple of months, but this may well be the strangest yet. The girls are having a friendly conversation, but one is on top of a cock that's dripping with her mess.You're still trying to piece it together. They're friends—that much is clear. But there's still so many questions unasked: How? Since when? And why are they having their catch up right fucking now?

Her delicate frame moves fast now and the rise and fall of her chest growing sharper leading to short breaths.

"Mhm," she utters, keeping her voice low and words at a premium. "N—No we aren't." To give her credit, she's actually very good at sounding natural. In some twisted way, it's one hell of an audition for how talented of actress she can actually be.

But that image comes crumbling down before your eyes.

Just for a moment, the picture freezes. Her mouth is half-open, eyes wide. She bites down on her lip, silencing herself, and then she drops her hand from her ear. She's hitting her fist, clenched around the phone, against her thigh repeatedly as she fights against her own body. There's another choked grunt as she is being pushed ever so close to the edge.

She draws the phone to her face again, breathing in deep and staring at you with those glossy eyes scanning all across your body, and she swallows.

"We aren't fucking," Minju denies, as your hands creep up from her slender thighs, sliding over those beautiful taut hips, gripping tight and helping pull her back and forth. It's clear, from the way she bites down on her bottom lip, the subtle trembling of her chin, she's hanging on by a thread, ready to lose it at any second.

"No. Don't—" Minju holds the phone out, and she’s looking at it—you can see it too—Wonyoung has just ended the call. "Ah fuck it." Minju throws the phone down on the couch.

She looks at you with a face that's a little lost in thought, considering things unknown to you. All while her body is on auto-pilot, still fucking down onto you.

After a moment, her face changes, an expression of indifference, of calmness. She smiles a little and rests both of her hands on your shoulders. Staring deep into your eyes, she grows ever more serious with a tinge of intent. She shifts from auto-pilot to manual, tightening the grip with her legs and slowing the pace, but fucking you harder.

Minju rides the ridge of your cock. Your whole length is dragged up and down her insides, setting every inch of you on fire. She moans every time she slams onto you.

Every time.

She's falling further apart in front of you—coming completely undone. Eyes rolling and biting that lip again. Hips shifting in all kinds of directions. A cacophony of beautiful grunting sounds that flood the room.

Minju is a woman derailed by pleasure.

"God. Your cock— Your cock is—" She's struggling now and you're only going to make it worse. Using the hands on her hips, you buck yourself up into her, bringing yourself a fraction closer each time.

"The things this cock— the things you— fuck." Minju has no power to string any kind of sentences together, no matter how many words you force from her. They grow less and less like words you can understand until all that remains are these loud and unashamed gasps.

Gasp after sharp and unstoppable gasp.

The rush of exhilaration courses through her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels it. All over. It's written on her face, in the way that she moves and in the look in her eyes. A look like that is a hard thing to fake, even for her—there's nothing else like it. Minju is cumming all over your cock and every bit of it is evident in every tense muscle, the quiver in the corner of her mouth, the sheen across her brow, the mist in her eyes as she blinks lazily and tries not to be overcome, overawed, with emotion and all the intense sensations, one wave after another, rippling through her.

You're just about there again too. You try to warn her, but you're fucking up into her with so much energy that you're not sure if the words ever left your mouth. But she knows it, somehow, because she has renewed aggression in her. Even through her orgasm, she's bouncing on your cock with such ferocity. Minju takes hold of your head and draws you into her. Nose to nose. Foreheads touch. "Cum in me again."

They're four of the best words she could have said.

She rides you faster still as you pump rope after hot rope into her cunt, your entire length filling her already overflowing cunt. You cum so hard inside her that the world seems to distort, twist, and wane.

"Yes! Yes!" she shouts in a whisper—her voice stolen by pleasure. "Fill my little pussy."

And with every last ounce of strength you have, you continue. Bucking into her, driving deeper with the last throes of your second load. It's too much. It's beyond pleasure and into pain now, as you have nothing left to give her.

You squeeze at her hips and waist, holding her down and doing everything you can to stop her fucking you.

You're panting. Tired. Done.

Done.

Minju raises herself just enough to slip that ruined and swollen cockhead from the depth of her. You watch as your combined fluids flow out of her onto your leg.

All that filth, a dirty combination of the two of you. Two loads of your cum drained into that one pretty pussy.

Minju is stroking a hand up your stomach, your chest, along your neck and jawline. Across your face and to your chin, so slowly, as if memorising your features.

You watch her body, so fucking perfect, flexing and trembling still and her breasts heave beneath sweat and exertion. Her breath is so ragged that a chuckle emerges between the hard, deep inhales and exhales. She's sweating, perspiration painting her body and strands of long hair matted to her head. So beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.

She looks into your eyes, studying, thinking. "You feel better now," her voice has returned to the softness of before, low and sultry. "Don't you?"

With a smile, your hands move again, wandering further up. They snake their way around her slender waist. There's something strange, something new, about how they explore her—before, you were quick to set them and demand control. But not now. Now, it's tender and grateful and you have a slow, searching rhythm to the touches that skim the skin across her skin.

"Yeah." It's honest. You do. She has done her magic, she has restored the balance, and the release has cleared a space within the self, within the mind. You stare back into her gaze, "thank you."

"No." Minju brings her head forward, her face almost colliding with yours. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed, I really—" She bites down on her lips and hesitates. She pauses for a second before she begins to move herself off you. Standing up straight, wobbling for a moment on the spot before stepping off and the sticky remains of your fucking cling to her inner thighs, glistening on the flesh, thick and trailing down from her hole.

She stares at you for a moment in some profound silence. You sit on the couch, on that musty old fabric, fully spent and staring. She's searching for something, eyes drifting over the room until it catches her eye, and she heads right for it.

You find the strength to stand and as you do, you’re still watching the sway of her body—noticing each bounce of her perfectly formed butt. Your eyes linger, appreciating the body that was given to you, enjoyed by you, and that gave so much to you. Your strength slowly builds from within, your legs are sore, your stomach and core are aching, your lungs feel crushed.

She's fumbling around on the table for something, she's leaning over slightly, her thighs pressed together. She wears sex like a crown—the pride, confidence, and accomplishment manifesting in her natural glow. Minju radiates. There's always something so electric about a woman in the post coital haze.

"You smoke?" she asks.

"No."

"You should," she says as she turns, fishing one out of the pack and perching herself on the edge of the table, crossing over her legs. "Makes you less nervous. You might need it."

There's an elegance in the way she slips the filter between her lips. An attractiveness in the casual way that she places the box down. With practiced poise, she flicks her wrist with lighter in hand so it flips open and her thumb runs against the sparkwheel. Once, twice, and on the third go the light takes and the flame holds steady. Minju lights the end of the cigarette and leans in, taking a deep draw and holding it.

It's mesmerising to watch. The way her mouth closes around the stick, how the soft glow dances upon her features. A darkness in the hollows of her cheeks as the smoke fills within, while she flicks the lighter back closed and slides it on the table.

Minju tilts her head back as her lungs empty, billows and tendrils escape into the room.

In the silence, you've had some realisation.

Minju is cool.

Like— really cool.

So you stand naked, facing her, in the breakroom of the bar she... works in? Owns? Hell, you don't even know that. Doesn't matter. And you finally ask her, "how do you know Wonyoung?"

For a long moment she just smiles, blowing smoke towards you, teasing with silence.

"We go way back," she says, and that is hardly the complete answer that you've hoped for.

Eventually, she offers more. "High school. We were friends." Minju studies the cigarette, eyeing the burning stub. "Guess you could say we were closer than that. Fuck. If not for—"

Silence.

And yet you wait.

"Well, there was this boy," she continues eventually, offering a soft and resigned smile. "My crush, and then my boyfriend. He was my first. First kiss, first date. First—" Minju looks over to the wall and inhales hard on the cigarette again. She breathes in slowly and you watch the small ember dance, the edges turning amber and glowing bright before she brings the cigarette down and flicks ash in the tray.

"What happened?" you ask, taking a seat alongside her on the table, pushing a cup aside to make space. It's not exactly hygienic, but nothing the two of you just did was.

"Wonyoung happened. Right before we left school, he left me for her and he thought he had a chance, but, well, you know Wonyoung. She's unattainable."

"You blame her?"

"Fuck no. But it didn't exactly bring us closer. He left me for her, she rejected him. What a mess."

There is always something when Wonyoung is in the picture, a messy little tangled web, something hidden behind those silky smiles. She's the reason for many lost loves and many lonely nights. You take a pause to appreciate that fact—to see what's really at the core. She’s the common denominator. Wonyoung—the arrogant heartbreaker.

"So what was all that about? On the phone?" you ask, trying to make some sense of it all.

Minju laughs aloud, tilting her head back and blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. She holds her cigarette between her slim fingers and rests her other hand on your thigh. "I wanted to play with her a little. I wanted her to know. Because well, and no offense, but you’re one of her possessions. She basically owns you. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda hot, but I wanted to see how she would react."

"So you teased her."

"Pretty much."

She laughs a little. There is some spark in her eye, born out of childish fun.

"Don't think she cares," you shrug.

You both turn toward the door that leads back into the bar. You both heard it. Out there. The knock against the front door of the bar.

Minju turns to you, crushing her cigarette into the ashtray beside her. There's a smirk on her lips and amusement in her eyes. In that look alone, there's a lot to unpack; there's an air of knowing, a glimmer of deviousness, and something else lurking beneath the surface.

"Then why is she knocking on the door?"

#minju smut #minju x reader #izone smut #kim minju smut #kpop smut #male reader #m reader #wonyoung smut

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space-mango-company · 2 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #dune #dune part two #house harkonnen #house atreides #leto atreides #lady jessica #paul atreides #baron vladimir harkonnen #duke leto atreides #austin butler #jessica atreides #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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overworkedblorbobattle · 9 months

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Overworked Blorbo Battle Round 1 Poll: 30

#tournament polls #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #worm #worm web serial #jamil viper #twst jamil #jamil twst #jamil twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jamil #lisa wilbourn #lisa worm #worm lisa #round 1 #round 1 wave 4 #tournament poll

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deadguydeathmatch · 1 year

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Dead Guy Death Match Round 1: Poll 50

#tournament polls #Mistborn #Mistborn spoilers #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #malevolent podcast spoilers #kelsier #kelsier mistborn #peter yang #parker yang #Peter Parker yang #parker malevolent #round 1 #round 1 wave 4

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gay-disabled-characters-showdown · 16 days

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LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 4, Poll 2

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Jonathan Sims-The Magnus Archives

Qualifications:

I quite often see him headcanoned as a cane user and/or experiencing chronic pain. And he is canon bi ace (also really often headcanoned as nb)

Propaganda:

He's my favourite special little boy post-apocalyptic antichrist archivist

Artemisia of Naimes-Vespertine

Qualifications:

She's aroace-spec as confirmed by word-of-god, she's strongly autistic-coded, and she has severe burn scars on her hands, limiting mobility of one hand.

Propaganda:

Aroace neurodivergent goth nun! I love her strong introversion and her disturbing default face. She gets herself into a working partnership with an evil spirit that sometimes possesses her, and the main result is that it encourages her to practice self-care, which by god she desperately needs.

#polls #poll #disabled characters #lgbtq characters #disability #lgbtq #lgbtq dcs round 1 #lgbtq dcs wave 4 #jonathan sims #the magnus archives #tma podcast #artemisia of naimes #vespertine

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idwsonicshowdown · 1 year

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Round 1 - Wave 4

#IDW Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #IDW Sonic Showdown #Round One #Shadow the Hedgehog #Cheese the Chao #Sonic Adventure 2 #Sonic Advance 2

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robertreich · 28 days

Video

youtube

How Trump is Following Hitler's Playbook

You’ve heard Trump’s promise:

TRUMP: I’m going to be a dictator for one day.

History shows there are no “one-day” dictatorships. When democracies fall, they typically fall completely.

In a previous video, I laid out the defining traits of fascism and how MAGA Republicans embody them. But how could Trump — or someone like him — actually turn America into a fascist state? Here’s how in five steps.

Step 1: Use threats of violence to gain power

Hitler and Mussolini relied on their vigilante militias to intimidate voters and local officials. We watched Trump try to do the same in 2020.

TRUMP: Proud Boys, stand back and stand by.

Republican election officials testified to the threats they faced when they refused Trump’s demands to falsify the election results.

RAFFENSPERGER: My email, my cell phone was doxxed.

RUSTY BOWERS: They have had video panel trucks with videos of me proclaiming me to be a pedophile.

GABRIEL STERLING: A 20-something tech in Gwinnett County today has death threats and a noose put out saying he should be hung for treason.

If the next election is close, threats to voters and election officials could be enough to sabotage it.

Step 2: Consolidate power

After taking office, a would-be fascist must turn every arm of government into a tool of the party. One of Hitler’s first steps was to take over the civil service, purging it of non-Nazis.

In October of 2020, Trump issued his own executive order that would have enabled him to fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA loyalists. He never got to act on it, but he’s now promising to apply it to the entire civil service.

That’s become the centerpiece of something called Project 2025, a presidential agenda assembled by MAGA Republicans, that would, as the AP put it, “dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision.”

Step 3: Establish a police state

Hitler used the imaginary threat of “the poison of foreign races” to justify taking control of the military and police, placing both under his top general, and granting law-enforcement powers to his civilian militias.

Now Trump is using the same language to claim he needs similar powers to deal with immigrants.

Trump plans to deploy troops within the U.S. to conduct immigration raids and round up what he estimates to be 18 million people who would be placed in mass-detention camps while their fate is decided.

And even though crime is actually down across the nation, Trump is citing an imaginary crime wave to justify sending troops into blue cities and states against the will of governors and mayors.

Trump insiders say he plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to have the military crush civilian protests. We saw a glimpse of that in 2020, when Trump deployed the National Guard against peaceful protesters outside the White House.

And with promises to pardon January 6 criminals and stop prosecutions of right-wing domestic terrorists, Trump would empower groups like the Proud Boys to act as MAGA enforcers.

Step 4: Jail the opposition

In classic dictatorial fashion, Trump is now openly threatening to prosecute his opponents.

TRUMP: if I happen to be president and I see somebody who’s doing well and beating me very badly, I say, ‘Go down and indict them.’ They’d be out of business.

And he’s looking to remake the Justice Department into a tool for his personal vendettas.

TRUMP: As we completely overhaul the federal Department of Justice and FBI, we will also launch sweeping civil rights investigations into Marxist local district attorneys.

In the model of Hitler and Mussolini, Trump describes his opponents as subhuman.

TRUMP: …the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country…

Step 5: Undermine the free press

As Hitler well understood, a fascist needs to control the flow of information. Trump has been attacking the press for years.

And he’s threatening to punish news outlets whose coverage he dislikes.

He has helped to reduce trust in the media to such a historic low that his supporters now view him as their most trusted source of information.

Within a democracy, we may often have leaders we don’t like. But we have the power to change them — at the ballot box and through public pressure. Once fascism takes hold, those freedoms are gone and can’t easily be won back.

We must recognize the threat of fascism when it appears, and do everything in our power to stop it.

#youtube #videos #fascism #Donald Trump #election #video #politics

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smusherina · 20 days

Text

yard work - chapter 8 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): not so much homophobia in this one! not even cigarettes!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 9

A snowball hit you on the back of the neck. Squealing like a pig and whirling around indignantly, you caught Kylie's eyes across the yard. Softball had made her aim dangerous. Luckily, you had one big advantage.

You lifted your arms above your head, miming a rearing bear, and charged towards her all the while bellowing like a beast. She giggled and began running away, rounding the pool. You gave chase, not even having to pretend to have a hard time since she was ridiculously athletic for her age, but eventually caught her. You hauled her into your arms and into the air, spinning around while cackling maniacally. She laughed and screeched in joy as you shook her around, screaming once you intentionally fell into the snow.

"I won!" She yelled in your face, cheeks rosy from the cold. Her grin was gap-toothed and so carefree.

"No! The snow monster caught you!" You protested playfully.

"Nuh-uh, I threw the last ball an' hit you- hit you square in- in the neck!" You'd heard from Mrs George that Kylie was in speech therapy for the stammer. In your opinion, it just made her cuter.

"The snow monster doesn't agree!" You lowered your voice and made it gruff, putting on the snow monster role, and stood up. She was tiny so there was no issue picking her up whenever you wanted. Holding her by the back of her jacket and knee, you threw her into the nearest snow pile.

"Again!" She stumbled down and out of the pile, back to where you stood, and you picked her up. Spinning around a few times, her legs flailing as you did, you launched her into the air sending the kid off in a great trajectory right back into the snow.

Before she could demand you manhandle her some more, you heard the backdoor slide open.

"Girls!" Mrs George hollered. "Josie and Riley are here!"

Your shoulders slumped in relief. You didn't know what you would've done if it'd been Mr George at the door. Kylie, eager to see her cousin and aunt, sprinted to the door. You lagged back, happy to be alone for a bit.

"Kylie! Kylie, through the garage please!" Mrs George waved her arms like a frazzled traffic guard, desperately not wanting wet floors. Kylie skidded to a stop right before the porch steps and swerved right, headed for the garage door now. You walked at a level pace behind her, knowing full well both the guests' attention would be taken up by the youngest of the Georges for at least the next half hour. Kylie had redecorated since they last visited after all. Priorities.

Your clothes were covered in snow, so due to be soaked pretty soon. You brushed off what you could but hung them up to dry nonetheless. You shot a text to Regina, asking for spare sweatpants 'cause your jeans were not suitable for inside wear. You got back a LOL. You crossed your fingers that meant yes.

"You did not put on that fugly sweater to meet my aunt and cousin." She said once she saw you. You could only shrug helplessly. You liked the sweater.

"I guess I did." You looked at the clothing in her arms. "That for me?"

"Yeah." She handed them over. You stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to either turn around or leave the room. When she didn't, you decided that, hey, she asked for it.

Unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, you revealed a pair of Ironman boxers.

"Do you shop at the kids' section?" Regina sneered at you.

You winked in response. "I know you like 'em."

"Sure. Love 'em."

You pulled the sweatpants on. They were soft and grey and somehow exactly the right size.

"Did you get these from your dad?" You asked dubiously, not too thrilled by the prospect of wearing Mr George's clothes.

"No, they're for you," Regina responded as if it were obvious. "I got some stuff for you when we started talking. Like, it'd be really inconvenient if you had to go back home just to get a toothbrush or something when you were staying over." She expanded, sounding confident but fiddling with her nails. You'd driven her to an appointment a few days ago to get a new autumn set. "But then, y'know, we spent more time at yours so... Hasn't been much use."

"Huh. I should get something like that for you at mine."

"No." She grinned. "I like stealing your clothes."

"Do you use my toothbrush too?" You acted scandalized, hiding how her saying she liked your clothes made you giddy. She couldn't hate your sweaters that much, then.

She rolled her eyes. "No, idiot, I carry one in my purse always."

"Gotta always be prepared." You clicked your tongue and swung your arm in jest. "Did you already say hi to your relatives?"

"Yes, so now we can go hang out in my room until dinner." Regina grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the mudroom. You went pliantly but redirected your path to the living room before she could climb the stairs. You ignored Regina's groan.

Introductions happened swiftly. You were Regina's friend and your family was spending Thanksgiving elsewhere, leaving you in charge of the house. The story wasn't entirely truthful, but neither was it a lie. Riley was a bit younger than Regina but only by a year or two. You could tell she wanted to spend time with her older cousin so bad, but Regina was not enthused.

Luckily, Kylie wanted nothing more than Riley to play Wii with her in the basement. So, off they went. You sat on the couch next to Regina, subtly leaning back and putting your arm on the backrest behind her. You were being totally casual and cool. You weren't even sitting that close so it didn't even look like you had her arm around her. It was totally cool.

Mr George sat in the recliner, eyes trained on the TV. Some sports game was on, but you paid more attention to Mrs George and her sister.

"So, what do y'all wanna do when you get outta high school?" While Mrs George's Southern accent had dulled down over the years to a North-Western one, which meant she sounded like any other Illinois local, the same could not be said for Aunt Josie. Her Texas twang was prominent.

Regina went first. "College." You did so wish she could find it in herself to be a little nicer to her relatives.

"I'll probably take a full-time position at my dad's shop." That'd been the extent of your plans since forever ago.

Regina looked at you oddly, but didn't say anything.

Mrs George and Aunt Josie nodded along, mildly interested, then started talking about college these days and the state of youth in America. You excused yourselves from the conversation and pulled Regina into the kitchen.

"Mom forbids snacks on special days, you know this," Regina grumbled as you dug around in their pantry.

"Does this count as a snack?" You pulled out hot cocoa packets. They were probably ages old, been there since you used to regularly visit the George residence, but you didn't believe in expiration dates anyway. It was just powder.

"We could make real hot chocolate, though." Regina pointed out, eyeing the dusty packets with contempt.

"Well, we could spend some more time in the kitchen making all that and be roped into sitting with them again to drink or we could be quick and tactically retreat upstairs."

"Get the big mugs. We're putting at least two packs in one. And make it with milk."

So, you got to work. You, specifically, while Regina sat on the island and watched. You didn't mind. She looked really pretty. She kind of matched with you, coincidentally enough. Your sweater was a motley of orange and brown patterns and shapes, itchy on bare skin and more so frizzy than fluffy. Regina had a sweater too, and of the same colour scheme, but hers was much more refined, soft to the touch, and had sensible patterns. She had on a black skirt and white legwarmers.

You snuck upstairs with your steaming mugs, tiptoeing so you wouldn't be heard. Once in the safety of Regina's room, you quickly huddled up on the bed.

"Good, right?"

"Swiss chocolate would've been better." She took a sip. "That's really good, though. What is that?"

"I added a little cinnamon."

"It tastes a bit like Christmas," Regina said, looking at you above the rim of her cup as she drank.

"It's right around the corner." You got comfortable on the bed, laying on your side facing Regina.

"Ugh, I hate Christmas. Everybody always comes here, as if Uncle Charlie doesn't have a huge log cabin that he doesn't even use most of the year. If I have to share a bed with Luke this year, I'm quitting."

"He's your oldest cousin, right?"

"Yeah. He's a dick. Last year, he totally-"

As she got into the story, you were lulled into a sense of comfort. Safe in Regina's room, warm hot cocoa cup in your hands, her voice regaling her cousin Luke's douchebaggery, you could almost forget everything else.

You decided you didn't want to think about difficult things during Thanksgiving. Even if the holiday itself hadn't ever been sacred or even fun for you, the fact that you got to spend it at the Georges' made it special.

At one point or another, you felt Regina pluck the mug out of your hands.

"Hey..." You slurred, blinking awake.

"Shh, just go to sleep." She patted your shoulder. You mumbled sleepily and nodded. Somewhere in the distance, she giggled, her hand still warm on your shoulder.

You stirred a couple of times during your nap. At first, you saw Regina next to you reading. Still Catcher in the Rye. She didn't look your way and you fell back asleep.

The second time she was closer. Your eyes met and her hand squeezed yours. She smiled and shuffled closer. Had you not still been halfway to sleep, your heart would've beat right out of your chest.

The third time, her arm was around your waist and knee slotted between yours. It'd been a long time since you'd been held like this. You and Regina used to cuddle in bed for sleepovers, but those were so long ago. She'd always insisted on being the big spoon despite you being bigger. Even now, she had you by your waist while your hands were tucked close to your chest. Wiggling one out, you threw it around her back.

The fourth time was the last. Regina had rolled partly on top of you. Her cheek was pressed to your shoulder, arm secure around your belly, while her leg was bent over your hips. You were firmly held down. There was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

"Sweetie, would you come down to help with dinner?" Mrs George was there, head poked into the room. You nodded with a smile. She eyed you two for a bit, a secretive sort of smile on her lips, before closing the door again.

You took meticulous care to not wake Regina up as you wriggled out of her hold. You replaced your body with a couple of pillows, hoping it'd be enough to keep her asleep a while longer.

After splashing some cold water on your face in the en suite bathroom, you headed downstairs.

"There you are," Mrs George waved you over. "Slice up those mushrooms, would you?"

You washed your hands and got to work. Mrs George and Josie were singing along to some music playing on the radio, chatting occasionally. Kylie and Riley were seated on the island playing on their Nintendo gadgets, at times demanding to taste the contents of the various pots on the stove. The sisters fed them spoonfuls dotingly. Mrs George came up to you a few times too, holding a spoon in one hand while the other was cupped under it, feeding you this and that. The gravy was really good.

The Georges were going all out, going above and beyond in both the taste and sheer amount of food. There were three courses, appetizer, entrée, and dessert. You could only dream of a spread like this and, maybe a little selfishly, you wished Mrs George would pack some of the leftovers for you. It sounded like an utter dream, food for days, good food for days. Mrs George's mac and cheese, buttery mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffed mushrooms, pear salad, heartily roasted vegetables—you could go on.

"Turkey's ready!" Josie called gleefully, clapping her oven mitts together. "Let's get her out, Judie."

Once the turkey was out and placed to the side to wait for dinner, you popped the green bean casserole in. Along with it went the mac and creamed Brussels sprouts. Kylie bemoaned the dish and made a big show of declaring she would not be eating Brussels sprouts in any way, shape or form. You kinda liked them, but it wasn't your favourite.

At some point or another, Regina came down, rubbing sleep dust from her eyes. Still groggy, she didn't even try to bat her mom's hands away when she started smoothing down her bedhead.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," You greeted from your spot at the stove. The job of stirring all the pots had been handed off to you.

"Morning," She yawned. "I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight. You should've woken me up."

"Sorry." You didn't really feel sorry, and she knew that, but that didn't stop you from patting her on the back in consolation. She leaned into you, mind clearly still addled from the nap of the century. She didn't like being touchy-feely in front of other people.

Just under two hours later, you were all ready to sit down for appetizers. You offered to help Mrs George with bringing the dishes back and forth, but she insisted she had it. It made you feel bad since she was the only one who didn't get to sit down and eat in peace. Under the strict eye of Mr George, you didn't dare to go against her wishes. You didn't know what he would take as disrespect or how he'd react to a guest misstepping in his house.

You mirrored Regina the whole time. You ate when she did, took more when she did, and focused on conversation when she did. The tactic was a safe one, but even so the shift in vibrations when around Mr George was palpable.

He didn't talk much. Mostly he just asked his daughters questions about school and their extracurriculars. He only nodded at Regina when she briefed him about the goings-on at school. He indulged Kylie's retelling of her most recent ball game with a subtle smile. He gave his compliments to Mrs George. It made your stomach twist, seeing Kylie beam like she'd won something when she got a smile out of him. Watching Mrs George's nearly full, almost untouched plate sit unattended as she busied herself with the pecan pie in the oven, you quietly wished he wasn't here at all.

Even though the air was soured by Mr George's aloof presence, the food was good. Delicious, immaculate, spectacular. Regina was a much slower eater than you, so you did eventually give up mirroring her because there was no way you were not stuffing yourself full. By the end of it, your stomach was maybe visibly distended and you could taste cranberry sauce at the back of your throat. It was a horrible feeling, but you wouldn't take any of it back.

Mr George went to his recliner, Mrs George and Josie retreated to the sitting room, and you were roped into playing video games with Kylie and Riley. Regina came too, seemingly pained.

The food baby melted away slowly as you watched Regina's younger replicas try their damndest to beat a boss in some game with a raccoon in blue. There was also a pink hippo and a green turtle. Eventually, they pawned the controller to you and told you to beat it. It took you a little bit to figure out the controls, but eventually, you were beating some tiger to the ground as a pink hippo. As you played, you noted that the plot was pretty good for a kids' game. You'd have to see if you could get it for yourself next time you went to GameStop.

With the boss beat, the younger girls took over again. Regina decided that that was enough and bid the two goodbyes, dragging you out with her.

"Not a fan of Sly Cooper?" You teased once she'd deposited you into her room. You walked in further and sat down on the floor, leaning against the frame of her bed.

She was looking at you like she never had before. Or maybe she had, but this was intense. She walked closer, forcing your neck to crane up as she stood above you.

"Reg?" You whispered, confused and a little wary. Had you fucked up somewhere?

"You always ruin the moment with that." She wasn't smiling, or scowling, and there wasn't anything hostile or hurt in her eyes. You couldn't read her. Unexplored territory. She came even closer, stepping so that her feet were on either side of your legs. Your vision blurred as she knelt down, straddling your things. She was soft, her usual perfume faded and mixed with the delectable smells of Thanksgiving dinner, and her hands were coming around your neck.

You swallowed, not daring to move lest you scared her off or something. What was she doing? She couldn't be, just, simply, that was too easy, you were being delusional-

She was soft there too. Glossy, tangy like cranberries, gentle and slow. She kissed you. Regina kissed you. You held your breath for a moment, not even realizing it, and shuddered as it released. She smiled against your mouth.

"C'mon, jorts." She whispered, lips brushing against yours as she talked. Her eyes, so close you couldn't really even look into them, glinted in mirth. "Kiss me back."

Your hands snared around her back, pulling her close to your body, as your lips found hers again. She giggled and you swallowed the sound, feeling it expand in your chest like sunlight.

Even hidden in her bedroom, sharing a kiss you didn't know would mean anything- could mean anything- there was nowhere else you'd rather have been.

Notes: We're still not at the climax. Or, well, we're very close, very much in it, but The Moment is yet to happen. Everybody knows it'll get worse before it gets better. That's just how it goes. So, have this fluff before it's yanked away from you! <3

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat

(holy moly there's a lot of you. if you wanna be added to the taglist, say so in the comments!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #wlw #fic: yard work

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