#I have a second one I’m gonna post in just a second

[blackpantherismyish]

Watch me 🍃

Modern!au Dom! Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Annie Moore

Word Count: 3.6k

Authors note: S/O to @lb-xci for the suggestion. I wrote this and rewrote it because I didn’t like the original. But this is it for sure. 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ there may be a part two. We’ll see how yall react to this one. Smoke is definitely a certified yapper in this one and I’m not terribly mad at it.

The bar’s low-lit and humming, that mix of bass from the speakers and low conversation that makes everything feel warmer, more intimate. Annie’s posted at the counter, that black slip dress skimming her thighs, gold hoops catching every flicker of light. One heel is hooked on the footrest of the stool, the other toe tapping along to the beat. Not on purpose, just that easy sway she always has when she’s in a good mood.

The bartender leans in to say something, and she leans closer to hear, her hair sliding forward to frame her face. She laughs, tipping her head just enough for her shoulder strap to shift. It’s light, thoughtless… except to the man across the room who’s watching like every movement is written in slow motion.

Smoke hasn’t touched his drink since she walked off. He’s leaned back against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, broad shoulders relaxed in a way that’s deceptive. His eyes are locked on her, dark and steady, moving from her mouth when she smiles, to the way her hand brushes the bartender’s wrist when she takes the glass.

She doesn’t notice the exact moment his jaw tightens. A small, slow flex. Doesn’t feel the weight of his gaze until she glances around and finds him.

The second their eyes meet, her smile falters.

He doesn’t smile back. Doesn’t give her that soft lift of the chin he usually does when she’s across the room. Instead, his gaze drags over her slowly, from head to toe, then back up to her mouth and it stays there. His lips part just slightly, his breathing a little heavier now, but it’s not the kind that says he’s the one being teased. It’s the kind that says he’s imagining exactly how he’s going to handle her later.

When she walks over, drink in hand, he pushes off the wall with a slow roll of his shoulders. His eyes don’t leave her face as she gets close enough for him to catch the faint scent of her perfume, the same one she wears for him.

“You enjoy yourself in there, lil’ girl?”

The question is low, almost lazy, but the edge under it makes her toes curl inside her heels.

She blinks at him. “I was just—”

“Don’t.”

Just one word, but it stops her cold.

“Don’t lie to me. I saw you… laughin’ with him, touchin’ his arm like you forgot who you belong to. You even know how you look when you do that shit?”

Her lips part to argue, but his hand comes up, slow and deliberate, to take the glass from her fingers. His thumb brushes over the spot where she was holding it, lingering like he’s testing the warmth there.

“Mm,” he hums, setting the drink down on a nearby table without looking away. “Bet you didn’t even notice how you were leanin’ in, dress ridin’ up. That little smile… you know that’s mine, right?”

Gazing up at him as he talks, she nods. She can only imagine what his plans are for the rest of the evening.

The walk to the car is quiet, but not in the cold way. It’s thick, the air between them strung tight with something equal parts heat and warning. His palm stays at the small of her back the whole way, heavy and warm, his fingers occasionally pressing just a little harder when she moves ahead of him.

Inside the car, he starts it but doesn’t drive right away. His hands rest on the wheel, fingers tapping a slow rhythm. His eyes cut to her once, dragging over her thighs before meeting her gaze again.

“We’re gonna handle this when we get home.”

The way he says it isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. One that has her shifting in her seat the entire ride, pulse quickening for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.

By the time they pull into the driveway, she’s wound so tight she doesn’t know whether she’s dreading what’s coming… or aching for it.

And Smoke?

He knows she’s feeling both.

The engine hums low as they pull away from the curb, city lights flickering across Smoke’s face in slow, warm flashes. He doesn’t speak at first. Just drives. One hand rests on the wheel, the other draped casually over the console. Close enough that Annie feels the heat of him, but not close enough to touch.

The radio is on low, some late-night soul station sliding through the speakers. Smooth bass, husky voices, lyrics about bodies tangled and heat under sheets. It’s not intentional, at least not from her but every word feels too on the nose.

Smoke’s gaze stays forward, but she catches the curve of his mouth in the dash light when the chorus hits.

“Mm… they singin’ your song, baby.”

Her breath hitches, and his head tilts just slightly, like he’s soaking up the sound.

“Go ‘head, keep actin’ shy now. You weren’t shy laughin’ with that man, lettin’ him see that smile you save for me.”

She shifts in her seat, looking out the window, but the smirk in his tone tells her he sees right through it.

“Mm-mm. Don’t look away from me. You know what you were doin’… whether you meant to or not, you let somebody else think for a second he could touch what’s mine.”

His voice is low and thick now, that drawl slow enough to wrap around her like honey, but the weight behind it leaves no question that he’s in control.

“So when we get home? You ain’t touchin’ me. And you damn sure ain’t touchin’ yourself. You just gonna sit pretty and watch while I take my time.”

Her thighs press together instinctively, and he catches it in his periphery.

“Mm. Don’t worry. I’ma give you a real good show. Slow enough to make you remember. Filthy enough to make sure it sticks.”

The rest of the ride is thick with silence, the kind that isn’t empty. It’s charged, electrified. Every lyric from the radio feels heavier, more explicit, because she’s picturing exactly what’s coming.

They pull into the driveway, the soft gravel crunch under the tires. Smoke kills the engine and turns to her, leaning in slow, his forearm braced against the console. The scent of his cologne, warm and woody, fills her head.

“Inside. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

The front door shuts behind them with a quiet click. He shrugs off his jacket without looking at her, drapes it over the chair by the door, and turns.

“Head to the Bedroom. Now.”

Her heels click softly against the floor as she moves, pulse jumping when she hears his heavier steps behind her.

Once they’re in the room, he gestures to the bed. A slow tilt of his head, that single brow raised.

“On the Edge. Sit.”

She lowers herself to the mattress, her hands resting in her lap. Smoke steps closer, close enough for his knees to brush hers.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.”

His tone is calm, but it’s soaked in lust, every word dragged out just enough to make her hang on it.

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me the whole damn time. No lookin’ away. No talkin’ unless I tell you to. You keep your hands right here.”

He reaches down, wrapping his big hands over hers, pressing them against the mattress.

“—and if they move, even once, I stop. You hear me?”

She nods quickly, and his grip tightens just enough to make her gasp.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes sir.”

His mouth curves slow, dark satisfaction settling in his eyes.

“Good girl. Now sit back, keep those legs open, and remember. You don’t get to touch me tonight. You watch. You want it, you show me just how bad without movin’ an inch.”

He takes a step back, and she feels her pulse in her ears, the air in the room already warmer.

“Let’s see if you can handle watchin’ what you gave away.”

He doesn’t rush.

Smoke stands a step or two away from her, just far enough that she can’t reach him even if she forgot the rules and tried. His gaze sweeps over her, the way her knees press together just slightly, the shallow pull of her breaths.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

The way he says it is slow, warm, like the words themselves are dragging their fingertips down her skin.

His hands go to his belt first. He doesn’t unbuckle it right away… Just lets his thumbs rest on the leather, pulling it snug against his hips for a moment. Then the metal clink of the buckle fills the space, low and sharp. He slides the belt free from the loops, inch by inch, the sound of leather whispering through denim.

Her eyes are glued to it.

The corner of his mouth curves.

“That your favorite part, huh?”

She blinks, heat blooming up her neck, but says nothing.

“Mm. I know it is. Every time you watch me take this off, you start squeezin’ your thighs like that’s gonna help.”

The belt hangs loose in his hand for a moment, then he tosses it onto the chair without looking away from her.

“Not tonight, baby. This ain’t for you.”

He moves to the buttons of his shirt next, taking his time. One button, pause. Another. The fabric parts, revealing warm skin, the lines of his chest and the ink that sprawls over it. He doesn’t shrug it off, instead he lets it hang open, like he’s giving her a preview.

“You see this, Annie? Every inch of me is yours… but you got me out here rememberin’ some other man’s eyes on you tonight. Makes me wonder if you remember who you belong to.”

He finally lets the shirt slide off his shoulders, catching the sleeves in one hand before tossing it aside.

He begins to dismantle his boots next. He braces one foot on the edge of the bed right between her knees to unlace them, the heat of him radiating close enough to make her want to lean forward. He catches the shift of her body immediately.

“Ah-ah. Stay right there. Don’t even think about reachin’ for me.”

The boots hit the floor with a solid thud.

Then his fingers go to the button of his jeans. He works it slow, pulling the zipper down with a sound that seems too loud in the quiet room. The denim slides over his hips, revealing the curve of his lower abdomen and the outline beneath.

Her breath catches, and he hears it. He chuckles.

“You breathin’ all heavy now… and I ain’t even touched myself yet.”

He steps out of the jeans and leaves them in a careless heap, standing there in just his briefs, the heavy outline straining against the fabric. He knows exactly how it looks, exactly what it’s doing to her.

“You sittin’ there lookin’ like you could cry for it. I like that.”

Smoke doesn’t touch himself right away.

He just stands there in front of her, broad chest rising and falling slow, letting the weight of the moment wrap around them.

“Legs open.”

His voice is low, warm, but there’s no space for disobedience in it.

She hesitates. Not out of defiance, but because she knows exactly what it means.

“Annie…”

The warning in his tone melts into something else, something darker, hungrier. She parts her knees slowly, the hem of her dress falling back to bare the tops of her thighs.

Smoke steps closer, close enough to see the faint shimmer at the apex of her thighs, the way her breathing stutters.

“Mm. Look at you. All that, and I haven’t laid a finger on you.”

He reaches into his briefs, adjusting himself, then pulls them down in one smooth motion. His shaft springs free, thick and heavy in his hand, already hard from nothing but looking at her.

Her lips part, eyes locked there, but he tilts his head and smirks.

“Mouth open like you wanna taste. Too bad, baby. This is my turn.”

He starts slow. Fingers wrapping around himself, thumb sweeping over the head, smearing the bead of pre-cum just to make it slick. The first stroke is deliberate, all the way from base to tip, his gaze locked on hers.

“You could’ve been doin’ this for me tonight. On your knees, pretty mouth open, takin’ me deep like I like.”

Another slow stroke, his palm twisting just a little at the top.

“But nah… you had some man’s eyes on you instead. So now you get to watch while I take my time.”

She shifts in her seat, thighs pressing together, but his voice cuts through the motion like a blade.

“Uh-uh. Keep ‘em open. I wanna see how wet you are when I’m standin’ right here, not touchin’ you.”

She obeys, the heat between her legs undeniable now, the scent of her arousal mixing with the faint spice of his cologne.

“That’s it… let me see what’s mine.”

His pace doesn’t quicken. It stays steady, lazy almost, like he has all the time in the world. Every now and then, he drags his strokes slower just to watch her squirm. Her breathing deepens, her hands curling into the bedspread, but she doesn’t move them. She remembers the rule.

“I know you’re aching, baby. I can see it in your face. Can hear it in how you’re breathin’ for me.”

He edges himself deliberately, stopping just before it gets too much, his smirk widening when she lets out a tiny whimper.

“Mm. You want me faster? You want me rough?”

She nods, and he chuckles low, stroking a little harder. Juuust enough to give her hope before slowing right back down.

“That’s what happens when you give away my smile. You don’t get what you want. I do.”

He steps forward suddenly, so close the head of his length is right at eye level for her sitting on the bed. She swallows hard, her gaze locked there, and he grips the back of her neck with one big hand, not forcing her but keeping her still.

“You feel that heat, Annie? That’s all for you. Always for you. But you don’t get to have it tonight.”

He releases her, stepping back with that same controlled pace, resuming his slow, punishing rhythm.

“You’re gonna sit there, legs open, so I can see what I’m doing to you… and you’re gonna watch me finish.”

Smoke’s strokes grow heavier, but never frantic. Every movement is measured, calculated to make her ache. His eyes stay locked on hers, dark and hot, his chest rising deeper with each pull.

“You watchin’ close, baby? You see how hard you got me without even touchin’?”

She nods, her gaze dropping once, and he immediately catches it.

“Eyes on me, Annie. Don’t you dare look away when I’m about to give you the best part.”

He speeds up for a few strokes. Enough to make his breath catch and then slows again. Jis jaw clenching like he’s forcing himself to hold back.

“Mm… so close. Could’ve had this all over your tongue if you’d behaved tonight.”

She shifts, thighs trembling from holding them open for so long, but he’s not letting her off the hook.

“Stay just like that. Let me see every bit of what I’m doin’ to you.”

His hand works over himself with that slow twist at the top, thumb dragging across the head, spreading the slick there. His breathing is heavier now, that deep chest pulling with effort.

Suddenly, he steps forward, close enough that she can see every detail. The veins, the glisten, the way his grip tightens when he’s right on the edge.

“You want it bad, don’t you? Want me to give it to you?”

“Yes… please sir—”

“Mm. Too late for please, baby. You lost that chance the second you let another man think he could look at you like I do.”

His strokes get rougher, his head tilting back for a moment as a groan rumbles low in his chest. Then he’s looking down at her again, eyes locked as the first hot pulse spills over his hand.

“Mm… look at that. All yours, and you don’t even get to taste it the way you want.”

He milks every last drop out, slow strokes drawing it out until his body finally stills. He stands there for a second, breathing heavy, his release glistening across his fingers.

Then his gaze cuts to her mouth.

“Come here.”

She leans forward instantly, and he catches her chin in his free hand, tilting her face up to his.

“Open.”

When she does, he slides his fingers between her lips, coating her tongue with his release.

“That’s it… suck ‘em clean. Get every drop. Show me you still know how to take care of what’s mine.”

She closes her lips around him, her tongue swirling slow, and his eyes darken even further.

“Good girl. That’s the only part you get tonight. The rest… you’ll have to earn back.”

He pulls his fingers free with a slow drag past her lips, smirking when she licks them as they leave.

Smoke takes a step back, grabbing his belt off the chair without breaking eye contact.

“Now… sit there and think about what you missed.”

The room is quiet except for Annie’s breathing. Shallow, quick and the faint tick of the cooling engine from outside. Her thighs are still parted just enough for him to see how slick she is, the air between them thick with the scent of sex and frustration.

Smoke stands in front of her for a beat, belt hanging from his hand, eyes raking over her like he’s committing the picture to memory.

“Look at you… sittin’ there all wet for me, dress ridin’ up, hands right where I told you to keep ‘em.”

He smirks, slow and deep, tasting the victory of her obedience.

“You think I’m gonna let you get off tonight?”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. She knows it’s rhetorical.

“Mm-mm. You’ll get your chance in the morning… if I see fit.”

That “if” hangs heavy in the air. She knows he means it.

“Maybe I’ll wake you up with my hands between your legs. Or maybe I’ll make you wait ‘til I’ve had my coffee. That’s for me to decide, baby.”

He leans in just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her ear.

“Until then… you stay just like this in your head. Remember how it feels to want me and not have me.”

He straightens, rolling his shoulders, and starts toward the bathroom. She watches him go. The broad back, the flex of muscle under his skin as he picks up his shirt along the way.

At the doorway, he glances back over his shoulder, eyes locking with hers one last time.

“I’m takin’ a shower.”

The water starts a moment later, the low rush mixing with the steady thump of her heartbeat in her ears.

Annie sits on the edge of the bed, legs still tingling from the heat of the punishment, body slick and aching. The black dress that had been so commanding and tempting for him now feels like a second skin she can’t wait to shed.

She slowly pulls the straps off her shoulders, one at a time, letting the fabric slip down her arms. The slit that had ridden high during the night now pools around her thighs. She leans back slightly, taking a deep breath, feeling the cool air against her skin.

Just a moment to myself…

Her hands smooth over her body, lingering on the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, appreciating herself in quiet reflection. She slides the dress down past her knees and sets it neatly aside, careful not to disturb the lingering scent of him in the room.

From the drawer at the foot of the bed, she pulls out a soft camisole and a pair of shorts. Sleepwear meant to be comfortable, yet still showing off the faint curves Smoke loves so much. She slips the shorts on first, the elastic soft against her hips, then pulls the camisole over her head, letting it settle just right.

Her hands brush over herself one last time, tracing her own arousal, acknowledging the ache that still thumps through her body. Though she’s vulnerable, a part of her feels… ready. Ready for him, ready for what comes next, even if she’s still waiting on his terms.

With a deep, steadying breath, she eases herself back onto the bed, curling slightly under the covers. The anticipation hasn’t left. It simmers, coiled and tense. Just as she knows he likes it.

And then, almost immediately, she hears the sound of water shutting off, and she knows he’s coming.

When the shower cuts off, she hears him moving around, his voice low as he talks to himself. Then the mattress dips under his weight, the warm, clean scent of him filling the space as he slides in behind her.

He hooks an arm around her waist, pulling her close until her back is snug against his chest.

“You’ll get to make it up to me in the morning,” he murmurs against her hair, tone soft now, almost a whisper. “Just had to prove a point, that’s all.”

His lips brush her temple in a fleeting kiss, and though she’s still aching, she knows the punishment is temporary.

Because when it comes to Smoke and Annie. The love always wins out.

———

Taglist: @gtf-o-m-d @spookysanta @michelley-rome @bigjh @anniensmoke3 @hdfen2474 @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @killmongerdispussy @theogbadbitch @ccwpidsblog @princesskillmonger @blowmymbackout @theethighpriestess @blktinkerbell @steampunkprincess147 @diamondsinterlude @partylikemajima @theegoldenchild @mhhhhmmmmmmm @lilchubbs @thebumblebeesworld @mastertia221b @brownskincheyenne @belleofthefloor @c0tt0ncandi @irefusetobeacasualty @cocoxciv-blog @melodyofmbaku @lb-xci @christinabae @babygirl-4986 @honeytoffee @solarssins @itsbreebree

[drsszone]

CAMPUS CONFESSIONS • KA12

SUMMARY ✰ Kimi confides in you about how he hopes that he, too, will find love through the anonymous confessions page. But when you read some of the recent posts you have to wonder if he’s talking about you, his lifelong friend.

CONTAINS ✰ Kimi being a yearner, oblivious reader, and lots of fluff.

FEATURING ✰ Kimi Antonelli x Reader

A/N ✰ Hiii guys!! Kimi’s part out NOW, yahoo! I do recommend reading Ollie’s first, but it’s not required that you do.

Y/N’S MESSAGES ��� KIMI ANTONELLI

-♡

campusconfess

liked by kimi.antonelli and others

campusconfess #12 is looking for some serious help!

—

username1 - Just tell them. Be straightforward.

username2 - It’s not always that easy though

username3 - I mean, really, the worst they can say is no! It might be awkward for awhile but a good friend won’t let something like that get in the way

username4 - Just text them. If they respond negatively say it was meant for someone else, and if they respond positively, boom. Success. Bonus if they say no but then respond jealously when you mention a different person

username5 - Do not do this

> username4 - You got any ideas then?

> username5 - No but I can say for certain this is wrong

username6 - If you’re scared to be honest, ask them out. but don’t specify that it’s a date. See how they react and then decide from there

username7 - You guys are too confusing. Just man up and say it 😂

> username8 - sybau ✌️

-♡

KIMI’S MESSAGES ☆ OLIVER BEARMAN

-♡

Y/N’S MESSAGES ☆ KIMI ANTONELLI

-♡

campusconfess

liked by olliebearman and others

campusconfess Help our boy out! 👇

—

username9 - Flowers! Everyone loves flowers and they’re very romantic

username10 - I second this

username11 - Just make sure to be the ultimate gentleman. Hold the door open, pull their chair out, etc.

olliebearman - Tell them that you want it to be a date.

kimi.antonelli - Well maybe anonymous wolf 12 is scared of rejection

> olliebearman - Anonymous wolf 12 should grow a pair

username12 - I live for this. Wishing you luck #12!

-♡

STORY REPLIES

→ kimi.antonelli - Mine was clearly better…

your.username - Nuh uh… I’m literally right by the ocean

kimi.antonelli - SO AM I??

your.username - MINE’S STILL BETTER

→ friend1 - Oh so you can facetime Kimi but you can’t facetime me

friend1 - YOU’RE LEAVING FOR A WEEK!!! I’M GONNA MISS YOU

friend1 - REPLY HO

your.username - I’LL FACE TIME YOU WHEN I GET BACK GEEZ

your.username - We were just discussing travel plans

friend1 - Yeah. Right now you’re just discussing travel plans, but in a year you’ll be discussing your future wedding where some random girl you met over there is your maid of honor instead of me

your.username - ???

your.username - You are so strange

→ olliebearman - Kimi said you’re gonna come visit!

your.username - Yeah! I’ll come say hi

olliebearman - Nah it’s okay, you two have fun together. He could use a de-stressor anyway

your.username - Oh? Why is he stressed?

olliebearman - He’s been doing so much volunteer work

olliebearman - And he’s working at the local shelter to save puppies

olliebearman - Great guy

your.username - That is just obviously not true

olliebearman - 🤷‍♂️

kimi.antonelli

liked by your.username and others

kimi.antonelli I missed you!!!

tagged your.username

—

olliebearman - YAY Y/N!

♥︎ by author

your.username - STOP IMY TOO

♥︎ by author

isackhadjar - Why are you commenting, you two are probably sitting right next to each other rn

> your.username - I need the people to know my feelings

♥︎ by author

isackhadjar - Since when was Y/N in town 🤨 Why did no one tell me

your.username - We can hang out, Isack!

> isackhadjar - 😄

> kimi.antonelli - No you can’t

> isackhadjar - ☹️

kimi.antonelli - Btw guys Y/N can only hang out with me so don’t even ask because we already have plans

♥︎ by author

olliebearman - Greedy…

-♡

your.username

liked by kimi.antonelli and others

your.username “It’s not an Italian place” he says before he orders only Italian dishes…

tagged kimi.antonelli

—

olliebearman - Kimi can only eat Italian food otherwise he’ll die

♥︎ by author

kimi.antonelli - Mate don’t even joke like that you know it’s not true

♥︎ by author

> olliebearman - Do I?

♥︎ by author

kimi.antonelli - Okay but the food was good

♥︎ by author

your.username - True…

isackhadjar - Where’s my invite?

♥︎ by author

kimi.antonelli - Lost in the mail

kimi.antonelli - No hard feelings buddy

> isackhadjar - Thanks Kimi

> isackhadjar - You’re such a genuine and nice guy, and anybody would be lucky to have you

♥︎ by author

> your.username - Are you guys dating did I miss a chapter?

> isackhadjar - NOOO

friend1 - I waited for 3 1/2 years, white man did it in one week…

♥︎ by author

your.username - 🙄

-♡

campusconfess

liked by your.username and others

campusconfess We stay updated around here.

—

username13 - This is getting pathetic man

username14 - Give it time! Just keep being a nice guy

username15 - Hey, eventually they’ll realize what they’re missing!

olliebearman - Keep at it buddy

-♡

KIMI’S MESSAGES ☆ OLIVER BEARMAN

-♡

-♡

Y/N’S MESSAGES ☆ KIMI ANTONELLI

-♡

campusconfess

liked by isackhadjar and others

campusconfess Final update from #12

—

username16 - FINALLY

username17 - HE DID IT

username18 - LOVE IS REAL

-♡

your.username

liked by kimi.antonelli and others

your.username Flowers, dinner, and sneaking out for late night snacks… Gonna miss this when I go back home :(

tagged kimi.antonelli

—

kimi.antonelli - Stop don’t talk about leaving I already miss you

♥︎ by author

olliebearman - So much food…

♥︎ by author

your.username - It’s not Italian. Is he gonna die?

> olliebearman - RIP Kimi…

♥︎ by author

isackhadjar - So THIS is why we couldn’t hang out?? BOO

♥︎ by author

kimi.antonelli - It’s okay you can now

♥︎ by author

> isackhadjar - I only hang out with single people

♥︎ by author

> olliebearman - Not true

♥︎ by author

kimi.antonelli - Can you just move here permanently

♥︎ by author

your.username - Someday 🫶 Ily

> kimi.antonelli - Ily more ☹️

♥︎ by author

[humpster35]

What do you think their body counts are?

‼️Before I even answer this question, everyone who feels like why i’m saying isn’t “accurate” or is gonna cry about the simple fact of me stating my opinion based off of what i’ve seen(and wrote about on my account) then just leave. You don’t have to go and send my posts to other people asking for their opinions because this is purely for fun—some of you take things that I post as facts which it is not. ‼️

Matt:

4 or 5, based off of how he carries himself and the things he says—I do think Matt has the highest count. When Matt first came on youtube(reference) he already had a girlfriend and no i’m not saying they did stuff, but I am saying that clearly he isn’t the type to just not be sexually active. I think he’s the most comfortable with his own sex life in my opinion. I feel like Matt maybe has indulged into the hookup culture with the move to L.A which is normal and fine because maybe he just wants to explore. I also believe that he would have sex as a way to calm down—sex isn’t always yk something thats this huge deal, Matt could’ve called one of his old flings and seen if she also wanted to yk play around a bit. They both get something out of it and that’s that. On a more like detailed note—yes I have to bring up how he always talks/jokes about sex in videos. They all do as we know but Matt is making sure that he’s safe—the amount of times he’s mentioned and even bought condoms is proof enough that this isn’t just a one time deal with him.

Nick:

3. Nicolas honestly probably lost his virginity back at home to a guy he might’ve gotten close to after coming out and then as he moved to L.A(a place where being gay is more normalized and accepting) he decided to go out of his comfort zone—just exploring his own body more. I think maybe the second time was about him learning and the guy maybe teaching him more things so that he can realize that what he’s doing is okay. They all grew up Christian so I don’t think they’re just going out and giving it to the world but they are definitely allowing themselves to be more honest and comfortable in their own bodies. The third time was probably just because he was horny and wanted it—I know Nick says a lot of sexual things in the videos but he has also mentioned how more reserved he tends to be in real life—I think this applies to his sexual life as well.

Chris:

2. Chris definitely may come off to some people as more sexually active than Matt—but I don’t think that’s true. In a way Chris is such a deep lover that he truly values and sees sex as something he only would do with someone he loves. Yes I know he’s said he’s been in love with 3 people but I don’t think that necessarily means that he’s had sex with these people—even if he has I don’t think that he had sex with the last person due to past experiences. Chris definitely (in my own opinion) prefers someone back home rather than L.A girls. I’m not saying he won’t meet someone, fall in love and have sex but i’m saying Chris is actually such a homebody that he feels like he doesn’t wanna do anything too new yet because he’s so used to what’s he’s already had.

tag list👛

@nickssidewitch @natesfavoritehoe @lyingonchris @spookysturnz @sturnblrwhore @sturniolofruitloop @sturnstars5 @sturnstarsblog @sturnsdarling @salaciousxsturniolo @saraspoon23 @seeing-stars-today @bernardmatthews @beardedbernard @bluestriips @billieslittlecumslut @bernardsbendystraws @allineedismatt @alesturniolos @fawnquette @eeyoresturnz @ellbowmacaroni @whore4chris @wbblvx @chrischerrycola @chrissleftshoe @chrismalfoy @chrepsi @carsonspepsi @heartsonlyforchris @hannahsturniolo @chrisowenmuncher @mattsgirl23 @mattspuppy @matthewssangel @mattsweethrt

[sindar-princeling]

The Lord of the Rings Newsletter 4! (FAQ)

Hello for the 4th (!!) time!

Many of you are already very familiar with this project (if by my life or death I can protect you all, I will); some are not. For the former this post serves as an announcement that I'm organising the Newsletter again, and for the latter - as an introduction to the project!

What is LOTR Newsletter?

I’m one of the people who subscribed to Dracula Daily in May 2022 and immediately thought, “Hey, I can do this too but with XYZ!” - in my case XYZ being The Lord of the Rings. Because the events of LOTR have specific dates assigned to them, we’re gonna be reading LOTR as it happened.

When does it take place?

Because of the way the beginning of LOTR is structured (read: because I don’t want to leave six-months-long (or you know. seventeen-YEAR-long) breaks between the first entries), we’re gonna start on September 15th. It's a week before September 22nd, when the main events start to take place for real, so we have enough time to read the first few fragments of the book, which take place long before them. It’s also the publishing date of the Silmarillion, but that’s just a fun fact for my own enjoyment.

From September 15th to September 19th, we’ll read the prologue and the fragments preceding Frodo’s departure from the Shire. From September 20th, we’ll be reading according to the dates in the book, right until April 8th. Then we’ll be reading the last parts of the book - which are stretched over a long time - once a week, to once again avoid lengthy breaks in delivery.

Overall, the Newsletter will run from September 15th, 2025 to May 26th, 2026.

How do I subscribe?

Since the original e-mailing platform I was using (TinyLetter) was shut down halfway through the second year of the newsletter, I had to figure out an alternative way to execute this project.

So:

You can access/download the whole newsletter - September 15th to May 26th - as an .odt file, as a .pdf file, and most importantly as an .epub file, because I assume most of you are reading on your phones (if you don’t already have an .epub reader, I use FBReader, and everything worked fine on my phone). At the beginning you’ll find the whole table of contents with hyperlinks, so the navigation inside the document should be easy!

The MEGA folder can be accessed right here, and it’s available for everyone!

In the folder linked, you’ll also find a calendar file made by @none-ofthisnonsense that you can download on your phone and import into your calendar app so that all days when we read are marked in your calendar!

If you want to receive notifications about when there is an entry to read, you can also follow @is-today-a-lotr-newsletter-day and turn on notifications! This is a blog created solely for notifying you all when we’re reading a new fragment of the newsletter, so all notifications you’ll get will be about new entries, and nothing more. The notifications are meant to be the equivalent of sending e-mails.

Where do I go if I want to post/talk about something related to the Newsletter with other readers?

We discuss current (and not only current) entries in the #lotr newsletter tag, and we have a Discord server set by the amazing @k-she-rambles!

Anything else I should know?

Please don’t rat me out to Tolkien Estate/j, and have fun reading!

(And as a PS.: I know I'm pretty much repeating myself from last year, but thank you very much if you join, or join again. The last two years took quite a bit of work (and LOTS of trial and error) because of the forced change in the format of the Newsletter. I know the new way is not for everyone, and for that I am truly sorry - but like I said last year, introducing more changes again, after so many changes had to be made already, only felt like creating more chaos, so I decided to stick to a solution that mostly worked. I really hope you can understand.)

See you on September 15th!

[napenthusiast1]

Content overload fr but complaints nowhere

some of my takeaways from today’s content:

-Ashanti is funny asf, I love her as a cohost and she just brings great vibes

- I always knew Azzi was funny, she’s reserved not shy(common misconception), but I love seeing this other side of her, she’s funny asf too

- I was gagged when Azzi asked T and Courtney if they’ve ever tried dating one another 💀( like girl said it worked for me maybe it’ll work for you)

-The studbudz are just hilarious people tbh so they were extremely entertaining to have on the pod, can’t wait to see who the next guest is (genuinely died when they were listing their “checklist” for people who slide into their dms and Courtney said ��you have to be gay, I don’t play any of that bi shit 💀”

- also Courtney saying she doesn’t want her girl to even know basketball or what a point guard is like ok boo 😭

-now for Paige and Azzi’s podcast: first I’m gonna start by saying I’m greedy and I want more 😁😁 hell give me the unedited version now tbh I’m ready

- they’re both huge trolls fr cause if Paige hadn’t filmed wagtalk after they filmed this and verbally confirmed it, they were really gonna talk about their friendship and run this “former teammates” joke into the ground while flirting the whole time. mind you, they both have each other’s birthstone rings on and the blonde one has a necklace with an initial on her neck and it’s not “P”. at the same time, I also really respect the fact that they don’t market their relationship cause that’s just them being them and they give us what they give us. they don’t really owe anyone an inside look to such a private part of their lives that’s already dissected so much so I respect that from both of them

-Paige’s shot is pretty no doubt about it but let’s be fr… Azzi’s shot is textbook so it’s just hard to be compared to that. we can even the greatest shooter in the world(he also happens to be her father 😉) about that

-genuinely felt like I was third wheeling the entire time, giggling and kicking my feet man 🥴 school needs to start back up (im gonna regret saying that by next week)

-also we’ve all been joking that we’re never getting the asw dump because of Paige and turns out it’s not even a joke afterall. PAIGE TRY HARDER AND TELL HER TO POST WTH. deep down she just doesn’t want people to thirst over her girl, I see how you’re playing Paige ok and tbh respect

-their dynamic definitely gives best friends to lovers FSSS like arguing about something one second and making heart eyes the next. there’s love and then there’s whatever they got going on and finding that so early on like man they’re so incredibly lucky

anyways great, beautiful day to love Paige and Azzi! can’t wait for the video version of FAAFO

[moonlitlilith]

Chapter Eleven: The Rooftop

Warnings: 🔞 smut warning. Escort x billionaire dynamic, Power imbalance (navigated and explored), Age gap (50m / 28f), Post-breakup emotional damage (on his end), Feminine rage + soft power, Men in suits, emotionally repressed, whiskey as a coping mechanism, Mutual pining (yes, even with a contract), Glamour.

You like to think that you're immune to the stuff, It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough, You know you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to love - Robert Palmer

Padding barefoot down the hallway, you hear the low hum of the coffee machine. The scent hits you first, rich and bitter.

Harry is at the kitchen island, sleeves rolled up, phone facedown beside a half-drunk mug. His other hand is pressed to the back of his neck, brows drawn together in a deep frown. A folder is open in front of him, the pages littered with sharp pen strokes and figures you don’t understand.

He doesn’t notice you at first.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, voice still rough from sleep.

His head lifts. His eyes - dark, tired - run over you in one swift glance. You see the moment he clocks the shirt - his shirt -and his jaw works once before he looks away.

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar. I know a stressed CEO when I see one... seen plenty before.” You cross the kitchen slowly, sliding onto one of the stools across from him. “Is this about work?”

A beat of silence. Then: “It’s about Eli Price.”

You frown. “The one from that dinner?”

He exhales heavily. “The deal’s going sideways. Price is trying to pull out, and if he goes public with why, it’s going to turn into a feeding frenzy.”

There’s something in the way he says it - controlled but laced with the kind of frustration that doesn’t fade overnight - that tells you it’s not just business pride at stake.

You wrap your hands around his coffee mug and take a sip, ignoring his faint glare. “What did he say?”

Harry leans back, rubbing his thumb against his temple. “That I’ve been distracted. That I’m losing my edge.” His gaze flickers up, almost daring you to take that personally.

You just smirk faintly. “Sounds like he’s jealous.”

That earns you the smallest, reluctant curve of his mouth. But it doesn’t erase the tension in his shoulders.

You lean forward, resting your chin in your hand. “So… what’s your move?”

His eyes meet yours, sharp again, calculating. “I fix it. And I don’t let anyone think they can take a piece off me without bleeding for it.”

It’s not a threat, not exactly but you feel the chill of it anyway.

The silence that follows hums with two things at once: the residue of last night, and the storm of whatever Harry is about to walk into today.

“Don’t forget the cocktail party tonight at...”

“I haven’t forgotten,” you interrupted, leaning lazily against the counter as he shrugged into his coat.

He started to turn toward the door, but you caught his wrist mid-step. The movement pulled him back, your touch light but enough to hold him there. His brows lifted in quiet question as you closed the space between you.

“Your tie’s crooked,” you said, voice almost too casual. Your fingertips brushed over the knot, slow and deliberate, adjusting it when you could have been done in a second. The heat of his gaze pressed against your cheek.

“You’re stalling,” he murmured, his voice a low accusation.

“Maybe,” you allowed, smoothing the silk down his chest, your knuckles grazing him through the fabric. “Or maybe I just don’t want you walking into that office looking like you got dressed in a rush.”

His mouth curved, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, the weight of them making your stomach tighten. “You always this helpful in the mornings?”

“Only when I’m working toward something. And getting paid,” you teased, releasing him at last.

For a beat, neither of you moved. Then he stepped back, forcing the distance with a small shake of his head. “Careful,” he said, like a warning - though the way his eyes dropped to your mouth betrayed him.

“Always,” you replied with a slow smile, turning away before he could see the effect he had on you.

The door shut behind him, but you could still feel the charge of him in the room.

*****

The elevator doors closed, and Harry exhaled a slow, sharp breath, tugging once at his tie.

Perfect knot. Perfectly straight.

You’d taken your time with it on purpose.

He knew that look in your eyes - half-innocent, half-predatory - the same one you wore when you were trying to get under his skin. And it was working.

By the time the car slid down to the lobby, he’d already replayed the way your fingers brushed over his chest more times than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t even the touch so much as the intent behind it, the silent dare you were issuing.

Thirty days, he reminded himself. That’s all it was and it was getting closer to the end day by day. And yet, somewhere along the line, this had stopped feeling like a clean transaction. You weren’t just in his space - you were in his head.

Out on the street, his driver opened the car door, and Harry climbed in, jaw set. He had back-to-back meetings, a lunch with investors, and a full afternoon of calls. He needed his focus.

Instead, he found himself picturing the cocktail party tonight, what you’d wear, how you’d walk into the room, and whether you’d keep looking at him like that in front of other people.

And if you did, how much longer he could keep pretending not to take the bait.

*****

The cocktail party was still technically on the schedule - you had a dress hung up and ready to go, sleek black with a slit high enough to make an entrance. But the more you thought about it, the more you hated the idea of watching him stand under chandeliers, glass of champagne in hand, pretending to enjoy the company of people who wanted things from him. He didn’t need more networking. He needed a night where no one knew his name.

So you made other plans.

When he walked through the door hours later, you were waiting. Your hair tumbled in loose, soft curls, makeup smoky and sultry rather than precise, the midnight-black mini dress clinging just enough to hint at your curves, sprinkled with tiny constellation-like embellishments that caught the light. Elegant without being flashy. No diamonds - just simple gold hoops, and a soft leather jacket draped over one arm, a piece you’d splurged on after your last respectable paycheck. You weren’t performing for anyone tonight; this was all you.

He stepped into the penthouse, loosening his tie, his eyes dragging over you.

“That’s not the dress you had planned,” he murmured, voice thick with something between surprise and admiration. It was the first time he’d seen you dressed like this - not performing, not playing a role - but unmistakably… you.

You looked up from adjusting the strap of your heel, letting the hem of the cocktail dress sway just above your knee. “I felt like a change,” you replied, teasing, “thought I’d surprise you.”

He stepped closer, the city lights spilling across his features, highlighting that sharp jawline and the intensity in his eyes. “A dangerous habit,” he murmured, hand brushing against yours as if testing boundaries.

You tilted your head, letting the movement linger, a slow smirk tugging at your lips. “I like to keep you guessing, Mr. Castillo. That's what you pay me for right?” you said, voice low, deliberately letting each word press against him.

He exhaled, a mix of amusement and heat, his gaze traveling over the curve of your legs and the neckline of the dress. “I don’t know if I can handle you like this,” he admitted, voice thick. “You’re… distracting.”

“That’s the idea,” you whispered back, stepping closer, fingers brushing his collar as if you were straightening it, but you were really feeling the tension in the line of his shoulders. “You’ve been tense all week. You don’t need another evening making polite conversation with people you don’t trust. You need a drink. Somewhere you don’t have to talk about quarterly projections or whatever Eli Price did to piss you off.”

"You realize,” he said, voice low and rough, “I am one of the non executives for this event tonight."

“And you wouldn’t mind,” you countered, stepping just close enough for him to feel your warmth, “because you’re too busy wanting my full attention. And you deserve a night off.”

He couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You’re infuriating,” he said, but the way he reached for your waist said otherwise. “And I can’t resist.”

Your pulse quickened as he trailed a hand down your back, fingers resting just above your hip, teasing, waiting. You leaned into him, letting your breath brush his ear. “Good,” you whispered, “I'm taking you to a bar I know,” you said. “Low light, good whiskey, a back booth where no one will bother you. You’ll thank me later.”

****

The place you picked was the kind of rooftop bar that didn’t try too hard to be cool - it just was. Warm amber lighting, jazz on vinyl, a bartender who remembered your name but never asked questions. People laughing without glancing over their shoulders. No PR cameras, no polite networking smiles - just music and the scent of fresh lime from the bar. You slid into the corner booth, Harry across from you, his jacket slung beside him, sleeves rolled to the elbows. The tension had already started to ease out of his shoulders, the hard edges of his expression softening in the glow.

“This isn’t the Four Seasons,” Harry murmured, scanning the string lights overhead. He had dressed in suit pants, an open top white shirt and jacket for the chill in the evening. To you, he looked like heaven.

"Nope,” you said, handing him a drink before he could protest. “No guest list. No speeches. No one asking about Eli. Just you and me, and the city.”

He took a slow sip, eyes still on you. “You realise people pay me a lot of money to make appearances, there's an expectation and you just - ”

“Stole you for the night?” you finished for him, smiling. “Exactly.”

“You’ve been smirking since we got here,” he said finally, leaning back.

“Because you’re actually having a good time,” you teased, sipping your margarita.

His mouth twitched. “Maybe I’m still deciding.”

You tilted your head. “You’d be frowning by now if you hated it.”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You dragged me away from a room full of people I needed to be seen with, for… this.”

“For a night off,” you corrected. “Which, apparently, is so scandalous it might ruin you.”

His gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long. “You’re trouble.”

“Maybe,” you said, swirling your straw idly, “but I’m the fun kind.”

Over whiskey, you let the conversation wander. Not about work, but about travel, food, ridiculous news headlines you’d read that morning. Every time you laughed, he watched you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

The wind tugged at your hair, and for a moment, he just looked at you - not the dress, not the curve of your bare shoulders, but you. The banter dissolved into something quieter, something you weren’t quite ready to name.

And then, when the drinks had sunk into your blood and the music had curled around you both like smoke, your foot brushed his under the table. An accident - at first. Then deliberate.

“You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” His tone was teasing, but there was an edge, the kind that made your chest tighten.

You tilted your chin, pretending innocence. “Planning what?” you watched as his arms stretched over the back of the booth behind you, his thumb occasionally grazing the bare skin on your back.

“That dress. The way you look at me. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You smirked, letting the moment stretch. “Maybe I’m seeing if you’ll finally break first.”

He chuckled, dark and low, and the sound made your stomach flutter. “You think you’re winning?”

“I don’t think,” you whispered. “I know.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “you’ve made your point.”

“And what point was that?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“That you’re capable of making me forget the rest of the world exists for a couple of hours."

You smiled, tucking that away for later. “Good. I was hoping you’d notice.”

*****

By the time you left, his hand was on your lower back, guiding you through the door with a possessive ease that made your pulse jump. The sexual tension hummed between you like an electric current - charged, inevitable. You’d taken him out to make him relax. What you’d really done was set the whole night on fire.

You ended up leaving just after midnight, the summer air still warm enough to skip the car.

“Luca’s going to be offended,” Harry murmured as you stepped onto the street.

“He’ll live.” You grinned. “Besides, you could use the walk.”

His brow arched. “Are you saying I’m out of shape?”

“I’m saying you sit in glass towers too much,” you said, stepping off the curb and glancing back at him. “Tonight’s about fresh air, remember?”

The streets shimmered with a soft summer heat, the air still warm even after midnight. Neon light from a corner bodega bled across the pavement, brushing over your bare legs as you and Harry walked in step, your arm hooked with his. The low hum of the city wrapped around you - muffled laughter spilling from late-night diners, the rumble of a distant subway, the faint clink of bottles in a recycling bin.

“You enjoyed yourself,” you said, tilting your head toward him.

His mouth curved like he didn’t want to admit it. “You sound surprised.”

“You usually look like you’re calculating the precise moment you can slip out without causing a scandal,” you teased, swinging your joined arms slightly. “Tonight, you actually… stayed.”

“I had good company,” he said, glancing down at you. His voice was smooth but quieter than usual, like he didn’t want to hand over too much. “Even if she did kidnap me from my own plans.”

“That cocktail party was going to be a bore,” you replied, bumping your hip against his thigh. “You needed a reminder you can have fun without a guest list.”

He gave a short laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest more than breaking the air. “Is that what this was? A reminder?”

“Mm-hm.” Your smirk was quick, deliberate. “Did it work?”

Harry’s eyes slid to you, the look both amused and assessing. “Careful.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll make a habit of it?”

His jaw ticked, though the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You already are.”

The traffic light ahead switched to red, giving you both an excuse to pause at the curb. He shifted closer, so the heat from his body seemed to sink into your skin, the scent of his cologne cutting through the faint haze of rooftop gin still lingering on your breath.

“You could say thank you,” you murmured as the light turned green.

“I could,” he said, walking again, “but then you might expect me to behave.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.”

“No,” he said, voice low enough that you felt it as much as you heard it, “we wouldn’t.”

You passed under the golden spill of a streetlamp, your shadow tangled with his on the pavement. A group of people passed the other way, their laughter cutting between you for a moment, but when the street emptied again, he didn’t step away. If anything, he walked closer.

“You didn’t hate it,” you said, glancing at him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. You have a very particular way of holding your jaw when you’re… enduring something.”

That pulled a low laugh out of him. “Enduring? That’s dramatic.”

“You didn’t even try the mezcal cocktail.”

“I like knowing what I’m getting.”

“Boring,” you teased, bumping your shoulder into his. “Next time, I’m ordering for you.”

He looked down at you with that faintly amused, faintly dangerous glint. “I’m not sure that’s in the contract.”

“Neither was tonight,” you pointed out, and he didn’t argue.

By the time the penthouse building came into view, your arm was looped through his so tightly your knuckles brushed the inside of his wrist. The air between you was heavy with the kind of tension you’d both been pretending to ignore all night- buzzed but not drunk, warm but not yet flushed, right on the edge of something neither of you had agreed to.

******

The doorman barely looked up when you and Harry came in, his usual nod of recognition almost automatic now. You’d passed through this lobby enough in the past weeks to feel the faint, strange comfort of familiarity though never with Harry’s hand hooked so loosely in the crook of your arm.

In the elevator, the mirrored walls caught the two of you from every angle. You loosened your arm from his, leaning back against the brass rail, but his hand found the small of your back as if by muscle memory.

The doors slid shut.

“Still not going to thank me?” you asked, your reflection meeting his in the glass.

“I’m thinking of a more appropriate gesture,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a weight to it - something deliberate, like he was testing how far you’d let him go, thinking he could maybe still win at your little game he had created.

The elevator hummed softly as it climbed. You could feel the buzz from the rooftop drinks settling into your veins, blurring the edges of your restraint.

“And what would that be?” you asked, tilting your head, playing along.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. “You’ll know when I decide to give it.”

Your pulse kicked. You almost laughed, but it caught somewhere in your throat.

The elevator dinged, the doors parting to the private hallway that led only to his penthouse. He stepped out first, his hand trailing lightly along your back until you followed.

Inside, the city poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, thousands of lights scattered like gold dust across the night. You slipped off your heels near the door without thinking, feeling the cool marble under your feet.

Harry shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the arm of a chair, then turned to find you standing there, hair a little mussed from the night breeze, dress falling just right against your hips.

“That’s not the dress you were going to wear,” he said, voice lower now, rougher. “First time I’ve seen you dressed up, but not playing a part. You look… more like you.”

For a beat, neither of you moved. The space between you was quiet but charged, the hum of the city beyond the glass the only sound.

You laughed lightly, brushing past him toward the kitchen island. “You pouring me a nightcap, or should I help myself?”

The corner of his mouth lifted as he watches you walk towards the kitchen.

*****

The kitchen lights were low, the city spilling in through the glass instead. You filled the kettle, setting it on with the easy movements of someone who felt more at home here than you ever admitted.

Harry leaned against the counter, watching you. Not the casual, absent kind of watching, the kind that soaked you in like he was memorising the exact way your hair fell over one shoulder, the swing of your bare legs under that constellation dress.

“You didn’t have to enjoy it so much,” he said finally, a dry edge to the words.

“That’s the point of going out, Harry. Enjoying yourself.” You reached for mugs, still avoiding his eyes. “You’d have hated the live DJ I was considering.”

“I’d have left.”

“I know,” you said, smiling faintly into the cupboard.

He came closer, not enough to touch, but enough for the heat of him to press against the cool buzz in your skin. You set the mugs down, aware of every small sound, the clink of porcelain, the slow boil behind you, the faint creak of the floor as he stepped nearer.

“You looked different tonight,” he said, voice lower now.

“How so?” You leaned on the counter, tilting your head.

“Not the part you play when you’re with me. Just… you.”

That pulled your breath a little shorter than you expected. “And that’s good?”

His mouth curved, just slightly. “Dangerous.”

“Tell me something,” he said after a pause, voice low, curious but careful. “When you do… what you do… is it for them? Or is it for you?”

You froze for half a beat, studying him, noticing the way he avoided any judgment in his tone. It was just curiosity - raw, probing. “Depends on what you mean,” you replied, keeping your voice light but precise. “Most men? They want a show. I give them one. But… some moments… it’s not for them at all. It’s… just me.”

Harry leaned against the island, a shadowed frown pulling at his features. “And the parts that are just… you?” He took a slow of the tea you had put in front of him, trying to anchor himself. “Those are real?”

You walked toward him, stopping just close enough that the air between you seemed charged. “They are,” you said softly, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips. “But I choose carefully when to let them out. Not every man… gets that side.”

“Do I?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, steady but rough around the edges. His hand hovered over the counter, tense, almost like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You tilted your head, letting the light catch the subtle curve of your jaw. “Maybe,” you said. “Depends if you’re paying attention. And if you’re worth it.”

He pushed off the counter slowly, closing the distance between you, yet keeping just enough room to make the tension unbearable. “And I am?”

A laugh, low and teasing, escaped you. “That’s what we’re figuring out, Mr. Castillo. You wanted to play this game.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be impressed… or angry… or…” His gaze flicked down briefly to your lips, then back up. “…confused.”

“Maybe all three,” you murmured, letting your hand rest lightly on his chest, feeling the subtle thrum of his pulse. “But you should know, nothing about me is ever simple. Not my job, not this… arrangement, not me.”

He swallowed, gaze darkening, his own hand brushing yours as if testing the line between teasing and desire. “I don’t know if I can separate… the game from the real you,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself. “And maybe that’s the point… I don’t want to.”

Your eyes flicked down at the brush of his fingers, the subtle heat of the contact, before back up to his face. “Then maybe,” you said softly, stepping a fraction closer, “you shouldn’t try.”

Silence fell for a beat, heavy and charged. And yet the honesty, the vulnerability between you, made the space electric. For the first time that evening, neither of you tried to hide the pull, the mix of curiosity, attraction, and unspoken questions hanging thick in the air.

Finally, Harry let out a low exhale, shaking his head slightly. “God, you’re impossible,” he said, a mix of frustration and admiration in his tone. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into him just slightly, the lightest brush of your hand against his chest. You didn't respond you couldn't. In the back of your head, a little voice told you 'you idiot, you're paying me for this, in a few weeks I'll be gone and out of your hair and pocket.' But instead, you welcomed his touches, his warm, his compliments and everything in between. You had said after your first night in bed together, it couldn't happen again. But this time, maybe for once, you were telling yourself the lie and not the man in front of you.

And even as the city lights flickered across the floor, you both knew the tension wasn’t going anywhere - it was just a matter of who would break first.

He was close enough now that you could see the faint shadow along his jaw, the lines at the corners of his eyes from the way he’d been smiling earlier - not the controlled, practiced ones, but the rare kind.

“You were… unusually chatty tonight,” he said, cutting the tension.

“Unusually?” you echoed.

“You don’t usually give people that much of yourself. Or maybe that’s just me.”

A faint smirk touched your mouth. “Maybe I was off the clock.”

His eyes flickered at that, like the words had landed somewhere they shouldn’t. “Are you ever really off the clock?”

You sipped, letting the slow burn settle in your chest before answering. “Depends who’s asking.”

“I am.”

You tilted your head against the back of the sofa, considering him. “Then no. I’ve been doing this too long to switch it off completely. There’s always… an angle.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It’s work.” You traced your finger along the rim of your glass. “You think I don’t know you watch me? Measure what’s real and what’s a performance? I do the same with you.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever given me the real answer,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

“Why you do this.”

You gave a small laugh - not amused, just soft. “Because I’m good at it. And it keeps me in the kind of dresses you like seeing me in.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “You could be doing anything.”

“Could I?” you murmured, eyes meeting his. “I don’t come from people who get to ‘be anything.’ This… works for me.”

For a moment, silence wrapped around you both, the city’s hum a soft backdrop. Your thoughts drifted toward the weight of your arrangement, the 30-day countdown ticking silently in the back of your mind. You’d started to care for him - more than you should. More than any escort could afford to care.

“About… the other night…” he finally said, his hand brushing yours as if testing.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, the memory of his lips, his hands, the way he’d held you tight.

“Harry…” you breathed, letting the name linger like a caress, teasing him back.

“I know the rules,” he continued, gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. “I know what you are… what you do. But… I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

You swallowed, heart racing, trying to keep your composure. “You don’t need to. I… I’m careful. That’s my job.”

But the tremor in your voice betrayed the tiny thrill of being so exposed, so close to someone who had broken past every wall you’d built.

“I’m going to get changed.”

You crossed the living room without looking back, the soft sound of your heels on the wood echoing into the hallway. Your bedroom door closed behind you with a gentle click.

*****

You’d almost managed to wriggle out of the dress on your own when there was a knock.

“Yeah?” you called.

The door opened a fraction, Harry’s voice low. “You need a hand?”

You hesitated - the angle of the zip too far for you to reach, hair mussed from trying. “…It’s fine.”

He stepped in anyway, shutting the door behind him.

The way he looked at you wasn’t overtly hungry - not yet but there was something deliberate in the way his gaze travelled.

“Turn around,” he said.

You did, the lamplight catching on the constellation pattern scattered across the midnight fabric. His hands found the tiny zipper, warm against the cool skin of your spine as he eased it down, inch by slow inch.

“Not the kind of dress you can do alone,” he said quietly.

“Guess I’ll have to plan better next time.”

The zipper reached the small of your back, and the loosened fabric slid against your sides. His fingers lingered there, not moving away.

“Do you always have someone waiting to help you out of them?”

“Sometimes,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “Depends on the night.”

Harry’s fingers lingered at the zipper, brushing the small of your back as he slowly pulled it down. “You’re… unbelievable,” he murmured, low and rough. His eyes roamed over your curves, tracing the lace that clung to your skin, the contrast of soft silk against bare flesh.

You leaned just slightly into him. “Unbelievable?” you teased, voice soft, almost sultry. “Or… tempting?”

“Both,” he admitted, a short breath hitching through him. He tugged the zipper down the rest of the way, letting the dress slip slowly to the floor. His hands slid over your hips, brushing the lace-covered skin, feeling you shiver under his touch. “God…” he growled, lips ghosting over you shoulder.

You arched into him, tilting your neck just enough to give him full access, your pulse quickening with every inch he explored. “Harry…” you breathed, low and teasing, the words a challenge, a dare. “You want me?”

“More than I should,” he said, his jaw tight, eyes dark with need. His hands moved, tracing the curve of your back, over your sides, slipping beneath the lace just enough to make you gasp. “Every inch of you…”

You laughed softly, teasing, pressing your body closer. “Well, you already have it, don’t you?”

His restraint broke. He captured you fully, pressing you against him, lips and hands roaming, claiming, exploring. Each brush of his lips along your neck, each sigh that escaped your lips, drove him further. “I can’t… I can’t wait any longer,” he rasped. “God, you do this to me…”

You responded, letting yourself melt into him, whispering against his lips, “Then… don’t.” The teasing, playful restraint you’d held earlier vanished, replaced with the surrender of desire.

“I thought we agreed this wouldn’t happen again,” he murmured, voice low, brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe I’m testing that rule,” you replied turning to him, eyes half-lidded, voice silk and fire.

You closed the small distance between you, your hand reaching up to cup his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your palm. His mouth found yours, slow and hungry, the kiss deepening with an urgency that left you trembling.

The dress slipped slightly against your skin as his hands moved to explore your back, pulling you flush against him.

His hands slid beneath the fabric at your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hips as he pulled you closer. The silk of the dress was smooth against your skin, but soon it felt like too much - too many layers between you both. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, that magnetic pull that had been simmering all evening now crackling between you.

His mouth left yours only to trail hot kisses down your jawline, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft column of your neck, inviting him deeper. His teeth grazed lightly, just enough to make your skin shiver.

You gasped softly, your fingers threading into his hair as you pulled him back to your lips. His mouth was demanding now, his tongue sweeping hungrily across yours as his hands roamed, exploring the curve of your body with possessive intent.

Harry’s eyes darkened, taking in the sight of you - in lingerie, vulnerable, yet utterly confident in the way you held yourself. His hands trailed over your hips, down to the swell of your thighs, memorizing every inch as if he feared you might vanish.

His lips found your collarbone next, trailing soft, scorching kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into him, breath hitching, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you tugged him closer.

His hands moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your lingerie, fingers brushing over the delicate lace before dipping just beneath. You trembled at the contact, heat pooling deep inside you, your body responding without hesitation.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin, voice husky with desire.

His hands gripped your hips tighter as he pressed you fully against the wall, the cool surface contrasting with the fire burning through your veins. His mouth trailed down your neck, biting lightly before sucking a deep, wet mark into your skin. You moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

With a swift motion, he slipped his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing over the soaked lace of your panties before slipping inside, curling expertly to find the perfect spot that made you arch into him. Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly as his thumb circled in slow, tantalizing motions.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he growled, his voice rough and low.

"It's all for you Harry."

You pressed your body flush against his, grinding down onto his fingers, feeling the delicious friction, the intoxicating mix of pleasure and need building in your core.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Your back presses against the cool wall, heels just barely brushing the floor as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close. His hands grip your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft curves, holding you steady.

His chest is pressed to yours, the heat of him searing, his breath hot against your ear. “God… you’re driving me insane,” he mutters, low and rough, voice trembling with the effort to hold back. Every touch, every subtle grind, every small brush of your lace against him has him close to snapping.

You tilt your head back, lips brushing the line of his jaw, whispering against him, “Then… don’t hold back.” The words are soft, sultry, but they carry all the challenge he’s been waiting for.

His mouth found yours again, tongues dancing in a heated battle as his hands explored every curve and hollow of your body. One hand slid down your back, unfastening your bra with practiced ease before cupping your breast, thumb brushing over the hardened peak.

His mouth left yours, trailing down your jawline, across your collarbone, and finally settling between your breasts. His tongue flicked and teased, sucking gently, sending waves of pleasure shooting through you.

“Harry,” you gasped, fingers threading through his hair as his lips continued their torturous worship.

His hands moved lower, slipping the last barrier of your lace panties down your legs. You shivered, raw and aching as his fingers finally found your bare flesh. He circled your clit with slow, deliberate strokes, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure that made your hips jerk involuntarily.

Your back arched as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them deeply, matching the rhythm of his thumb’s strokes. Your breath came in ragged gasps, hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging in as the tension spiraled tighter.

He met your eyes, dark and intense. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whispered, voice trembling. “All of you.”

Without hesitation, he aligned himself, the heat of his body pressing against yours before the first inch even entered. The friction, the taut press of his chest against your back, sent shivers through you. Then, with a slow, torturous thrust, he slid inside you, and you gasped - soft, sharp, involuntary. Every inch of him filled you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that was both consuming and intimate.

The wall behind you was hard, unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body and the softness of your skin. Each thrust pressed you further into it, the slight scrape of your back against the smooth paint adding an edge to the sensation. His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbs teasing the sensitive skin at the apex of your chest, while the other hand found the curve of your hip, steadying you as he moved.

He pressed into you harder, every slow thrust now fueled by a hunger that had been simmering for hours, a desperation that made his movements relentless. Your back arched into him, chest pressed forward, lips parted in a ragged gasp, letting him feel exactly how much you needed him. The wall behind you was unforgiving, yet it only intensified the friction, every bump and scrape sending electric shocks of pleasure through you.

His hands gripped your hips like he could anchor you to him, yet each squeeze, each palm sliding over your sides and up to cup your breasts, drove the ache in your core even higher. “God… you feel so good, baby” he growled into your ear, teeth grazing the lobe, his voice thick with need, rough and urgent. “So perfect… all mine.”

You trembled under him, nails digging into the wall, the small of his back, anything you could grasp. Each movement was deliberate, but faster now, more desperate, a perfect storm of control and abandon. Your hips shifted against his with every thrust, meeting him, chasing the friction, matching the pace he set, trying to wring every inch of pleasure from him - and from yourself.

“Harry… don’t stop,” you gasped, voice breaking between moans, body trembling. “Please… God, yes…”

He tightened, one hand teasing, cupping, rolling just enough to make you shiver and cry out. “That's it baby..."

Every thrust grew sharper, more urgent, his desperation mirroring yours. The penthouse seemed to shrink around you, the sounds of skin against skin, ragged breathing, low growls, and gasps filling the space. He tilted his hips, the angle hitting deeper, making you cry out with every pull, every press. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, gripping, demanding him closer, needing every inch, every moment.

Your body tensed, every nerve igniting as his thrusts drove you higher, closer, and you couldn’t hold back. With a sharp inhale, a cry that caught between a moan and a gasp, your muscles clenched around him, your back arching as pleasure crashed over you in a shuddering wave. Your release was hot, full, leaving you trembling against him, pressed so tightly you could feel his heartbeat hammering through his chest.

He didn’t stop - his desperation only intensified at the sight, the feel, the sound of you coming first. His grip on your hips tightened, hands digging in as he let out a low, guttural growl, mouth grazing your ear. “Girl girl,” he rasped, voice rough, thick with lust. Every movement became more frantic, more consuming, his own pleasure building to a nearly unbearable edge.

You wrap your legs tighter around him, letting him feel the warmth and weight of your desire, the way you cling to him, testing the line between restraint and surrender. Every motion you make, every brush of skin against skin, is a challenge.

His breathing has grown ragged, uneven, and you can hear the low growls escaping him, restrained and urgent. He presses a hand to the wall beside your head, trapping you fully, and his other hand grips your hip, thumb brushing over your bare skin. You feel him shudder at the contact, the restraint thinning, the tension snapping closer with every heartbeat.

You let out a soft moan, half challenge, half invitation. “Harry…” The name falls from your lips like a spark in dry grass.

"Say it again..."

"Harry..." You moan. He freezes for a fraction, then all at once, that coiled, controlled restraint unravels. His body snaps forward, closing the last inch of distance. His lips find yours, demanding, claiming, while his hands and hips follow in a rush of desperate, heated need.

When he finally snapped, it was like a storm breaking: his movements jerking, muscles clenching, groans vibrating through you, both of you teetering on the edge. You followed, shuddering, screaming softly into the air between you as pleasure crashed through every nerve ending. His hands clamped onto you, holding you tight as you both rode out the tremors, pressing against each other in the aftershocks, hearts hammering, breaths ragged, sweat-slicked skin glistening in the warm light.

Every inch of you remembered him - his weight, his touch, the way he had claimed you - leaving a delicious ache that whispered, You’re mine… and mine alone.

Your breath was ragged, chest rising and falling as his arms held you close, anchoring you in the afterglow. The room was thick with the scent of sex and his cologne - warm, intoxicating, a reminder that none of this was just physical. It was something deeper, something dangerous.

You rested your forehead against his collarbone, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. For a moment, silence wrapped around you both, soft and fragile.

Then his lips brushed the shell of your ear, voice low and rough. “You okay?”

You nodded, though the truth was swirling inside you - conflicted and raw. The barrier you’d both built, the careful line you swore not to cross, had been shattered tonight. And neither of you knew what that meant.

He shifted slightly, his arms wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, his hands skimming every part as if trying to memorize every inch of you all over again. “This changes things,” he murmured.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes - dark, serious, vulnerable. “Maybe it does,” you whispered.

A slow smile tugged at his mouth, softening the intensity. “I don’t regret it.”

Neither did you.

---------------------------------------------------------

I know ... This was a long one but God it felt good writing it. I really don't know how long this fic will be but I love writing it and I love reading your comments and messages! And obviously the dress our girl is wearing is inspired by Taylor to celebrate the announcement of her new album 🧡 I'm feeling a tension chapter coming up soon.... But if there is anything particular you'd like to see happen with our lovely pair I'm open to hearing them!

Taglist: @katssecretdiary @pedrosgrogus @bunny-pancake @littlewitchgirly @sesdeuxyeux @notyourlovemonkey @lizzie-cakes @aquanatalie @indiegirlunited @hotmess-x @krystal---meth @noisynightmarepoetry @karlawithacapitalk @ro-nahime-things

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

The Laws of Attraction (Higuruma x F!Reader x Nanami 18+ One Shot) 

Pairing: Lawyer!Nanami Kento x Law Student/Intern!Reader x Lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma 

Synopsis: You are a law school senior and intern juggling schoolwork and your job who attends your firm’s anniversary party one night. While there, Higuruma Hiromi and Nanami Kento, your bosses and the two sexy attorneys you’re secretly attracted to, help you celebrate your final grades and receiving a brand new position at their firm….just not in the way that they should. But who cares about what’s right or wrong when it feels so good? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Eye-Fucking; Secret Crush; Mutual Pining; Threesome; Coworkers to Lovers/Boss x Assistant Trope; Mild Power Play; Lowkey Flirting; Office Sex; CMNF; Dual Cunnilingus; Dual Deepthroat; Doggystyle Over Desk; Spitroast; Facefucking; MDom/Fsub Undertones; Throatpie; Cum On Ass; Sneaky Sex; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Hey, y'all!! I'm here with another rewrite while I try to write some other new shit. I originally posted this last year but I wanted to revise & repost it since I noticed that my writing has improved overtime. I hope y'all enjoy & thank you ENDLESSLY for the love n support! KISSES!! 💋💋 -Jazz

********** 

You know that a second glass of wine probably isn’t logical or practical, but if you have to listen to your fellow intern and total preppy asshole drone on about his vacation stories, you’ll definitely blow your brains out. 

You stand in a small circle with the other interns that started with you last year for the internship program. The firm has one that stretches all year long, starting in the spring and ending in the winter. You’ve known these people for months now and while you like some, there are others than you’d gladly avoid. 

Like the preppy exchange student from Upstate New York who came to Japan to study abroad. Of course, he’s standing beside you in his Armani student, buzzed off of his second beer and oozing arrogance and ignorance.

“My friends wanted to go to Bora Bora again, but I always found Bora Bora to be sooo overhyped,” he groans. “That’s why we went to Hawaii. It was cheaper.” 

He takes a sip of his beer, dripping some down his tie. You don’t warn him. ”I heard Hawaiians didn’t want tourists anymore,” Yuki points out, standing next to you. “Something about them pushing natives out of their homes because of construction.” 

She sips on her champagne and eyes you as she does it. You fight the urge to smile. “Well, that didn’t kick me out,” the exchange student chuckles. “I had a ball! Lotta beer on the beach and a lot of girls too.” He turns to you now, your worst fear coming true. “You ever been to Hawaii, Y/N?” 

You force yourself to turn towards the young, blonde jock who only came to work here because his father has connections in the legal system as a hotshot judge in New York. As a young woman, you worked your ass off to get into this program and into law school. As you can imagine, juggling both is a damn job in itself. 

You purposely kept quiet for half of the night to avoid exerting energy in boring conversations, but to avoid dissociating for the fifth time tonight, you fix your mouth into a smile. “No, but I prefer Costa Rica. The water is prettier. Excuse me, I’m gonna fill myself up.” 

Quickly, you excuse yourself from the group and walk over to the alcohol table located on the other side of the gorgeous ballroom. “Oh, pass me another beer if they got one,” the jock suggests. “We can share, if you want. I know you like a good beer too.” He gives you a lopsided smile that’s supposed to get you hot and bothered like it has to all of the other girls he’s screwed. 

You stifle the urge to vomit and give him a tight lipped smile before quickly walking off…or as quickly as you can in your Jimmy Choo heels. Your friend and roommate forced you into them, telling you that they brought out your complexion and meshed with your slim, strapless, black dress. 

You will admit that you feel the sexiest you’ve ever felt in it. Even when you tried it on and had your friend tie the strings behind your neck to hold the slinky article of clothing up, you felt like the baddest bitch walking. As soon as you walked into the ballroom, you caught eyes….just not the eyes you truly want. 

As you walk across the ballroom, nodding and smiling at guests (lawyers, politicians, city officials, etc.), you admire the beautiful decor of the room. The decorators rearranged cushioned furniture, added gorgeous white flowers as centerpieces, and polished the marbled floor so much that you can see yourself in it.

The scent of cinnamon and cloves drift through the air along with the bitter winter breeze pouring in from outside as people come and go for cigarette breaks. They truly went all out for this anniversary party. 

Your firm is located on the sixth floor of a twelve-story building in downtown Tokyo, specifically in the business district. Every weekday you catch the train at 7 AM with fellow bright-eyed, bushy-tailed workers in their uniforms and weary, hungover students preparing for an 8AM course.

You’ve always loved the hustle and bustle of the city; the constant activity; the sense of determination and purpose in the air when you do your eight-minute route to the train station to work. 

Maybe that’s why you decided to take the internship offer when you were picked last spring. You were a law student, a senior-to-be, in need of a legal position that would give you more experience and had a decent pay.

Your job as a waitress could only do so much. After you were interviewed by the program director, she set you up for another interview with the attorney you would be working for. When you realized that you would be interviewed by two attorneys instead of one, you thought it was some kind of mistake. 

But you were reassured by the director that Kento Nanami and Hiromi Higuruma, the top attorneys at their firm, wanted you specifically. “They picked you out from ten other candidates,” she gushed to you over the phone. “They’re so impressed with your resume and our interview notes.” 

You smile to yourself as you take another glass of champagne. You can’t believe that this was twelve months ago. Now if you can only snag a full time position here and ace your final exams so you can graduate next spring, your life will be complete. 

Yuki appears beside you, dressed in a red dress and wearing her blonde locks in waves. ”He likes you,” she giggles. You roll your eyes beneath your full lashes. “I could give less of a fuck,” you mutter. “I felt like shovin’ a cupcake in his mouth to shut him up.”

Yuki laughs despite your deadass statement. “So where’s your date tonight?” she asks. “Since preppy white jocks don’t float your boat.” 

No man floats your boat nowadays, it seems. Not when you’re in law school. What guy would want a girl who stresses over essays and exams every other week?

“Well, my roomie has a cold and couldn’t come,” you explain. “I wanted to stay, but she forced me to put on this dress and come.” 

“And it’s a damn good thing she did!” Yuki scoffs. “You look amazing!”

You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks flush. “And I’d rather you be here celebrating the 10th year of the firm with me than at home. Intern or not, you’re a part of this team too, Y/N.” 

Though Yuki’s words are sweet, you’d much rather be at home with your roommate watching Netflix in your sweatshirt and booty shorts, shoveling ice cream down your throat and maybe popping an edible to ignore the impending anxiety of your exam scores tonight. 

Anything than being a room with a bunch of preppy folks and pretending to be interested in anything they have to say. But you got yourself into your pretty gown for two important reasons: one because this party is a good distraction from your incoming grades and two, you’re waiting for two guests in particular to show up. Your bosses…or as your friend would call them, your sexy lawyer baes, Nanami and Higuruma. 

These are two names that pop up often at your firm and in the legal world. As two Harvard graduates and prominent lawyers in business and corporate law, they were among the original ten lawyers who started out at the firm when it was still very small and upcoming. Now expansive and holding over a hundred attorneys, Nanami and Higuruma are still the top in the game in their thirties. 

They are intelligent. They are virtuous. They are calm, cool, and collected when needed in the court. And they are also fine. As. Fuck.

And you know all of this because you work underneath them and have been for over twelve months as an intern. You never knew why they hired you to personally work for them, but you jumped at the chance to take the offer when it was given to you after your one-on-two interview with them. 

As unapproachable and cool they seem, the two lawyers are pretty lenient with you. They allow you to use their shared office to do your work, they work around your class schedule, and don’t make you work overtime. Most of your duties are fetching coffee for them in the mornings from the lobby cafe, editing and proofreading documents, delivering files to different departments, and drafting papers. 

They truly make it easy for you. They aren’t hard or difficult like a lot of other lawyers in your firm who run their assistants ragged. They answer all of your questions and push you to give your all. “But remember to rest,” Nanami always tells you. “Burnout is a killer.” He is the softest of the two and a true sweetheart at heart. 

Higuruma is more of the sterner one, always giving you constructive criticism with any underlayer of encouragement. He has a dry humor that reminds you of a boring dad and has you giggling while you’re doing your work. The two lawyers bounce off of one another, having disagreements and arguments but always coming together to win a case. 

They are truly a duo made in heaven, especially in the looks department. It isn’t a surprise to you that the entire firm has their eyes on them as handsome as they are—soft-looking lips, firm stares, and eyes that make your blood run hot.

Your dreams are often filled with hot visions of doing very nasty things with Higuruma’s nose and stroking Nanami’s cheekbones with your fingers. 

As far as you know, they’re single and unmarried, but things can change. Not to mention that you’re their intern! There is a very clear line that you don’t cross at a job and that includes not fucking your bosses. 

No matter how sexy they are in their suits, or how intoxicating their cologne is, or how you wish to feel their big hands on you, you can never ever destroy the work relationship you have with them and fuck up your entire life. Besides, how else are you going to get a job here when you graduate law school? 

So you disguise your interest in them as kindness and shove your horiness away, never acting on your attractions to them. But sometimes, you think that the feeling is mutual.

Just in November before your final exams, your bosses graciously offered to help you study. You were studying from your self-made study guide over lunch with them in their office. You had five classes during your fall semester you had final exams for: four tests and one paper due the same week you took your tests. 

“Well, I can tutor you for the tests,” Higuruma said, taking a peak at your guide. “Clearly, you need someone to break this shit down for you and test you.” 

“And make sure you don’t completely blow your top over your grammar,” Nanami added, referring to your paper. “I was a 4.0 in Harvard, don’t you know?”

As usual, you laughed. They always knew how to take your head out of your work with their teasing and dry humor. 

That month, the three of you would meet during lunch and work. Higuruma would time you on definitions for legal terms, answering open-ended questions, and knowing which court does what. Nanami, in contrast, would take a look at your final paper and make alterations, highlighting anything that needed to be edited and giving suggestions. 

It was the most help you got in your three years of law school. And unfortunately, it made you fall deeper for them. You weren’t even planning to attend the firm’s tenth anniversary party, but when you found out Higuruma and Nanami were attending through an invite to your work email, you knew you had to show up. 

You smile at Yuki now, raising your champagne glass. “Well, cheers to that,” you giggle and clink your glass with hers. “You’re sweet, Yuki. Definitely makes this whole environment worth it.” The two of you giggle to each other and gossip about the other guests as you sip champagne and much on veggie sticks from the snack table. 

At some point during your third glass, you hear a buzz come from your purse. Your heart skips a bit and you race to fish it out, thinkin that it may be Nanami or Higuruma texting you that they’ve finally arrived. But when you see that it’s your Canvas notification, your stomach drops. 

Suddenly, the champagne tastes sour and all of the sounds of the party sound muffled like you’re underwater. All of your grades are in, including your final paper. You swallow hard as you stare at your phone screen, your vision becoming fuzzy. You feel like you’re about to faint. Oh, where are Nanami and Higuruma when you need them?

“…Y/N?”

You turn to Yuki as if you just realized that she’s standing there. “Sorry, what?” You dumbly ask. 

“They finally brought out the chocolate fountain!” she announces, pointing excitedly at the fountain bubbling chocolate fondue just a few feet away. “Let’s get some before we have to fight off the entire party.”

You force a smile and wave her off, trying to hide your oncoming anxiety attack the best you can. “You go ahead. I need to powder my nose first.” 

It’s enough to make Yuki agree, telling her that she’ll get you a plate. Once she’s strutting off in her heels, you make a beeline for the bathroom located down the hallway from the ballroom. You move as quickly as possible in your heels, scrolling for your friend’s contact at the same time. By the time you reach the bathroom, you feel like you’re about to throw up. 

You barrel through the door, sighing in relief when you find it empty. Quickly, you shut the door and will your friend to answer the phone, gripping the sink for support. You feel as if your knees are about to buckle from the anxiety you feel bubbling inside of you.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter. Finally, your friend does, coughing into the phone. “What’s up, babe?” she crokes out. “Did your lawyer baes come yet?” 

“No, but my grades just came back and I’m in the bathroom so I don’t have a panic attack, but I am having a panic attack.” You face yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked so pretty with your Fenty Beauty foundation, plumping gloss, and long lashes framing your gold eyeshadow. But now? All you see is anxiousness. 

“Okay, relax,” your bestie soothingly says. Only she knows the stress you’ve been under for three years. “Breathe. Tell yourself your affirmations. I already know you did amazing, Y/N. You already know that too. You studied your ass off, remember?” 

You do. You had to. Only you have the power to make all three of these years of constant stress mean something. You need that degree. “Yeah,” you exhale before inhaling again. You do that a couple of times, egged on by your friend who tells you how smart and determined you are. Finally, you feel like you’re ready. “Here I go…I’m opening them now.” 

You put the call on speaker, but your friend is silent as you shakily open the Canvas app. You check each one of your final grades, your heart damn near exploding one after the other. All high scores. Three As and one B. “Oh, my God,” you gasp. 

“What?” your friend urges. “What’d you get?” 

You nearly drop your phone as your body trembles from excitement and relief. “I passed,” you whisper. Then again, louder this time: “I passed!” you squeal. “I fucking passed!” You feel tears prick your eyes and you have to rapidly blink to keep from ruining your mascara. 

You can’t believe it. You’re done! You’re going to graduate law school next spring! “Congratulations, girl!” your friend cheers. “I knew you could do it! Now go out there, turn the fuck up, and celebrate with your lawyer baes.” 

You scoff, taking some tissue to tab at your cheeks and temple. “For the last time, they’re not my baes or boos or boyfriends.” She swears that Higuruma and Nanami are your future husbands. “Not yet!” she argues. “You just wait till they see you lookin’ fine as fuck in your dress and next thing you know, you’re going home with one of ‘em…or both!” 

“Goodbye, you perv,” you giggle. “Thank you. I love you.” Your friend bids you farewell and tells you to text her later before you end the call. You take a moment to check yourself out in the mirror, admiring the bad bitch in your reflection. 

Finally, you put your phone away and strut back to the party, feeling like you’re the sun and the moon. You feel sexy, exuberant, and like you’re on top of the fucking world. Nothing and nobody can get in your way. 

You suddenly bump right into someone’s back, causing you to stumble. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Your words die in your throat when the stranger turns, revealing himself as your favorite handsome blonde attorney. Nanami is usually in suits for work, but this one is especially tailored. “Ms. L/N,” he says in his smooth, eargasmic voice. “I didn’t expect to bump into you so early tonight.” 

You gape at him, unable to speak. You’re at a loss for words. Just then, before you can look any dumber, Higuruma appears with two champagne glasses in hand. He, too, is in a designer suit and red bottom shoes, looking so sexy that it should be illegal. “Oh, there you are. We were actually looking for you.” 

His tired-looking brown eyes scale down your outfit. “That’s…some dress. You look nice.” Maybe you imagine it, but his cheeks look pinker in the light. Nanami clears his throat and awkwardly pushes up his framed glasses, snatching one glass from Higuruma and taking a sip. 

”T-Thank you,” you stammer, finally finding your voice. You spot a passing waiter on your left with a tray and snatch a glass from it. You’ll need it. You clear your throat, conjuring that bad bitch from the bathroom. “U-Um, I’m actually glad you’re both here. I was looking for you too.” 

The lawyers’ brows raise expectantly. “Oh?” Higuruma asks. “Why is that?” You break out into a smile, unable to contain your joy. “I got my grades back for my exams!” you excitedly announce. “All As and Bs!” You fish your phone out of your clutch and shove the screen into your bosses’ faces. “See for yourselves,” you proudly giggle. 

Nanami takes your phone and peers down at it, squinting into the blue light. When he sees your grades, a slow smile creeps across his face that gives you butterflies. “Let me see,” Higuruma mumbles, snatching your phone from Nanami. 

He mutters to himself, something he always does when reading. You find it so endearing. When he finishes, he scoffs in surprise. “Well, damn,” he huffs. “This is impressive, Y/N. You really locked in as the kids say these days.” 

“You’re not that old, Higuruma,” Nanami scoffs, snatching your phone back and handing it to you. “Nice job, Ms. L/N. We’ll have to celebrate.” The two lawyers smile at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You feel it. Standing with them, you feel as if nothing can touch you. 

Higuruma raises his glass, a small smile playing on his lips. “A toast to good grades and an even better future.” You all raise your glasses and clink them before taking a sip. You can already feel the effects of the champagne taking over. You feel bubbly and light as a feather. Beautiful and carefree. Sexy, even. Very dangerous. 

“Thank you,” you happily sigh. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help with the studying. I really appreciate you both for doing that.” The lawyers look happy hearing that kind of praise and gratitude from you. “Well, you can thank us by helping us make it through this party,” Higuruma sighs. “After all, we need to show our law school graduate around to all of these fine, fun folk.” 

He looks around the room, looking like he’s thinking anything but nice things about the guests. You snort to yourself. “Don’t we, Nanami?” he asks, smirking at the blonde. Nanami sighs to himself, looking absolutely done with being here. “I barely even want to be here. I almost want to be back in traffic.” 

He turns to you now, a small smile playing on his lips. “But hearing about your grades makes it worth it all.” If only he could know how that makes you feel. The butterflies in your stomach have gone haywire. 

You swallow, feeling the confidence of the champagne taking over. “W-Well, maybe next spring when I graduate, you both can come to the ceremony,” you nervously suggest. “It’s only right since you’re my bosses and mentors.” You give them a shy smile, peering up at them through your lashes. 

The two lawyers look at each other blankly and then back at you. “Mentors?” Higuruma parrots. “We’re your mentors?” 

Immediately, your confidence slips. “Well, you did help me study and you’ve shown me so much about the legal system. I look up to the both of you.” You bite your bottom lip, feeling as if you’ve said too much. You’re moving too fast. You’re overdoing it! “I-I’m sorry I assumed—“ 

“Don’t apologize,” Nanami firmly interrupts. His eyes are all aglow with a quiet passion you’ve never seen before. “We’d be honored to be your mentors…if that’s what you want.” Higuruma looks just as interested in the position, looking ready to drop everything and sign up. 

You feel a big, dumb smile split across your face, giddy and joyful. “Then I’d be honored to call you my mentors,” you giggle. “Let’s toast to that too!” You raise your glass to clink with theirs, leading to another joint sip. You open your mouth to say more, to keep them standing here with you, but everyone at the party is just as excited to see the two attorneys as you are.

“Oh, there they are!” someone announces. You turn, finding one of the firm’s oldest lawyers walking over to Nanami and Higuruma. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two! C’mon, the chairman wants to see you.” He practically drags them away, blabbering on about the many guests here who want to meet them. 

You watch them leave just as they turn to give you one last look, an apology in their gazes. You feel an immense pang of disappointment inside of you and you feel stupid for feeling that way. It’s a party! This is their job! Of course, they need to mingle and talk to other important people. 

Yuki luckily comes to your rescue, strutting over to you with more snacks. “Oh, Y/N!” she exclaims, taking your hand. “There you are! Come here, you have to try these white chocolate raspberry bars before they’re gone!” She drags you off in a different direction from Nanami and Higuruma, widening the gap between you. 

For the next hour, the party wears on like this: you on your side and your bosses on the other, all of you stuck being pulled in directions other than each other’s. You watch as they chat with chairmen and CEOs; attorneys and paralegals; city officials and policemen. It’s honestly annoying…probably because of the champagne you drink. 

With every passing minute, you sip a bit more, feeling even lighter and riskier than your first glass. You’re pretty sure you’re on about four ½ glasses at this point, so much so that you start seeing things.

You believe you feel Nanami’s eyes on your ass from across the room or Higuruma’s gaze straying away from a guest to check you out. Your risky, reckless behavior makes you smile at them from across the party, not realizing how flirty it may come off to them or someone else watching. But the idea of that doesn’t embarrass or mortify you. In fact, it turns you on. 

But nothing even comes from it. You never find your way over to your lawyers. Disappointed, sleepy, and exhausted from walking around in heels, you decide to give your dogs and the alcohol a break. You go up to the bar situated on the left hand side of the ballroom and take a seat on one of the stools, ordering a club soda. 

“That’s the easiest thing I’ve made all night!” the bartender exclaims, making you laugh. “God bless you!” After they finish whipping up your drink, you’re in the middle of a few needed sips when someone sits next to you. You turn, finding a young man in a suit that looks like Tom Hiddlestone and Timothy Chatlane had a baby. 

The wavy-haired man in his suit smiles at you. “Your Nanami and Higuruma’s paralegal, right?” he  asks. You shake your head. “Intern. Not a paralegal…yet.” 

He nods, chuckling at your humor. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the office before. I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” His tone is flirtatious and you pick up on it immediately. Usually, you’d disregard and ignore this, but tonight? You may just play along. 

“Possibly,” you reply, lowering your soda. “I have one of those faces.” Feeling particularly chatty, you put a hand out for a shake. “I’m Y/N,” you blurt. “I’m an intern for the law firm on the sixth floor.”

The man races to shake your hand, hanging on for longer than necessary. His palm is sweaty. “Ah, yes, the law interns,” he chuckles. “I’m Mark, an associate for an accounting firm. I’m up on the eighth.” 

He flashes a pearly white smile that is probably supposed to make you swoon. “That explains why we haven’t seen each other,” you giggle. He laughs with you and you decide that he’s cute enough to waste time on at the party. 

“Maybe this party is good for something then,” he flirtatiously says, his smile turning suggestive. “I was plannin’ on leaving soon ‘cause this crowd is dead, but you just might make me wanna stay.” And just like that, he pops the bubble on your fantasy plan. “Oh” is all you can say. 

No doubt he is trying to get into your pants…or rather under your dress. You turn to sip your water in silence, trying to think of something to say to let him down easy. “Are you here with someone?” he asks and his hand goes crawling to yours again. 

Now you really need to think of something fast. “Um” is all you can get out before a shadow descends upon you and him. You both turn to find Nanami standing there. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting, Mark?” he asks. He sounds apologetic, but you can tell he isn’t by the firm set of his lips. 

The attorney beside you gives your boss a lop-sided smile. “Just my drink,” he jokes as the bartender passes him a whiskey. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Nanami?”

He cocks his head to the side, drunk and cocky. “Sorry to cut in, but I need to steal Y/N away for a moment,” Nanami explains before turning to you. “We hate to do this now, but since you’re here, we’d like to plan out the schedule ahead of the holidays.” 

“Oh!” you exclaim, your brain already switching into work mode. “Um…yeah, sure, of course.” You turn to Mark who looks less than pleased about being cockblocked. “It was nice meeting you, Mark. I’ll see you on the seventh floor one day.” The attorney only gives you a smile and side-eyes Nanami as you leave with him. 

In silence, you two head to the elevators and Nanami presses the up button. You aren’t too sure why he and Higuruma are doing this now during a party, but you’ll wait to find out.

When the elevator comes, Nanami lets you inside first and then follows behind you. When the doors close, you become hyper aware of him standing so close next to you. You can smell his cologne—spicy and musky like cinnamon. It makes your body react in very nasty ways. 

“You won’t be seeing him,” he says. You blink, your fuzzy brain almost not catching that. “What?” you ask. 

He turns to you, his eyes firm. “You won’t be seeing him,” he repeats. “Not to gossip, but the man is known to stick his dick where he makes his business. He’s slept with half of his department and a lot of his clients.” 

You almost forget who the hell he is talking about until you remember Mark. “Damn,” you scoff. “Well, thank you for the save…not that I was planning on sleeping with him or anything. He’s not my type.”

You immediately flush, hot with shame and embarrassment. You shouldn’t have said any of that. ‘Fuck that champagne,’ you think. 

However, Nanami silently chuckles to himself, finding it funny. But still, you beat yourself up. At least until you get to your floor. Nanami and Higuruma share an office space, their offices separated by a door where one can easily enter one room and exit the other.

Nanami’s office consists of tan furniture, a plush couch where you often do your work, and his book collection while Higuruma’s office is all dark colors, polished Mahogany wood, and a mini bar. Some things they do share though are private bathrooms, personal thermostats, and a beautiful view of the skyline. 

You walk down the hallway to the office with Nanami and enter his, finding Higuruma already there. “Took you two long enough,” he grumbles. Nanami’s office is dark, only lit by the full moon coating the floor in silver and illuminating Higuruma’s manly, handsome features. 

Suddenly, your heart begins to pound. “S-So where’s the schedule?” you stammer. Nanami shuts the door behind you and walks up to stand beside Higuruma. “There is no schedule,” he confesses. “Sorry to bring you up here so randomly, but we didn’t want to do this in front of everyone.” 

You scowl, confused. “Do what?” you ask, looking between them. The two give each other a look before Higuruma provides you with an envelope from under his suit jacket. “To give you this.” 

You stare at the envelope, even more confused. Tentatively, you take it and look at them, unsure. “Open it,” Higuruma silently says with his eyes. Swallowing hard, you take a millisecond to mentally prepare yourself for what will be in the envelope and tear it open like you would a bandaid. 

A folded letter flutters to your feet and you pick it up to read it. “On behalf of [the firm] and the departments of business and financial law, we would like to offer you a full time position as a legal assistant in the spring of 2025. Signed…” Your eyes grow big at the signatures. “Kento Nanami and Hiyomi Higuruma,” you exhale. 

The two handsome men standing before you smile while you’re busy trying to resist the urge to pinch yourself. You have to be dreaming! You’ve gotta be! “Y-You’re offering me a job?” you softly ask. Higuruma smirks. “You don’t miss much, do you?” 

Nanami nudges his partner in the arm. “We’ve noticed the work you’ve been putting in for us all these twelve months. Don’t think your hard work went unappreciated, Y/N. You’ve helped us a lot, even without us telling you, and for that, this is what we have to offer.”

His gaze is soft; intimate. “This is just to get your foot in the door. Of course, you don’t have to stay forever and we’ll help you study for the BAR if you want to take it.” 

Higuruma doesn’t add on, but he doesn’t have to. He, too, gazes down at you like everything Nanami is saying is true. You look down at the letter and then back up at them. “I….I don’t know what to say.” Higuruma’s smirk widens. “Say you’ll take the job.” 

Finally, you break into a humongous smile and you jump up and down. “Yes!” you squeal. “Yes, yes, I’ll take it! Thank you both so much!” You go to toss yourself at them for a hug, but you make one misstep and nearly trip. You gasp, trying to find your footing. 

Quickly, Nanami hooks his arm around your midsection, securing you in his arms. “Careful!” he exclaims, catching you. “That would’ve been nasty.” You should just tell him thank you and leave the comfort of his arms. You should just take the L now and leave before things get bad. 

But you don’t. You make the mistake of staring up into his inviting eyes and soft, pink lips. His eyes gaze down to your mouth, his pupils dilating as if he sees something he likes…wants even. He leans down and so do you, and suddenly your lips are on his as you stand in the comfort of his embrace. 

The kiss is short and gentle, but it’s sweet enough to steal your breath away. It is a kiss fit for a Disney movie ending. But just as soon as it happens, it ends and you both pull away, stunned. “Whoa,” he exhales. 

Yes, whoa. Whoa, that was the best kiss you’ve ever had. Whoa, you just kissed your boss. Immediately, you jump back as if burned and over your mouth. “Oh, God,” you gasp. “I-I’m so sorry. I…oh, God.” You begin to shake, your eyes welling with tears. Regret and shame instantly fill you. 

Higuruma steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. Nanami tries to come near you too, his gaze soft. “Y/N,” he softly says.

You quickly side-step him and step away from Higuruma’s touch. “I have to go,” you sob. “I can’t be here. I shouldn’t be here.” You begin to panic, dropping the job acceptance letter in the process. You don’t try to pick it up.  

“Wait, Y/N,” Nanami pleads. “Stay. It’s okay.” He walks toward you like you’re a wounded animal, gingerly and slowly. “No, it’s not!” you whimper. “I can’t believe I did this! I’m gonna ruin everything now! I-I—“ 

A hand grasps yours and pulls you close into his big, warm body. “Sweetheart, calm down,” Nanami soothingly says. “It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. There, you begin to cry, big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and ruining your makeup. “It’s okay,” Nanami murmurs into your ear. 

At the sound of his voice, you look up into his eyes and see that they are hooded and soft. Affectionate.

When he leans in again, you don’t pull away. You let him kiss you, slow and deep, your lips moving in perfect tandem with each other. It is almost as if your lips are meant to kiss. Nanami’s big hand cups your face, tilting your head slightly to the side to meld your mouths together, earning a soft moan out of you. His hands slide down to your ass, caressing the bump made underneath your dress from it. 

From the back, you feel Higuruma presses himself against you, his big hands sliding across your naked lower back and shoulders. His touch electrifies you. So do his kisses. When he begins to kiss your neck and shoulders, you pull away from Nanami, gasping. “H-Hang on,” you stutter. 

He stops, his hands still on you. Questions flare in his hooded, brown eyes. “Tell us what you want, Y/N,” he says, his voice strained. “Tell us to stop and we swear to God, we’ll stop.”

Nanami pauses too, slight pants leaving his lips. You want to apologize, to tell them that this isn’t right or proper or appropriate to do. This is so, so wrong. 

But as you stand here in the dark sandwiched between your bosses, you’ve also never felt more right. “Keep going,” you softly beg.

The lawyers descend upon you immediately, kissing, touching, and grinding their hips into you. You feel their hardened cocks press against your groin and your ass, giving you a taste of how you’re making them feel…and have made them feel for months now. 

“We wanted this for so long,” Higuruma whispers into your neck. “You have no fuckin’ idea, Y/N.” His thick lips press down your spine, peppering your skin in wet kisses. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to pull your ass aside and do this to you.” 

“So many times,” Nanami growls, his hands sliding up to your hips to indulge in them. “You make it so hard to control myself, darling.” You’re feeling the last of your self-control slipping, the pleasure too much to handle. You moan at every touch and kiss, loving that you can feel their defined muscles through their suits. 

“Take it off,” you whisper and motion to your dress. The lawyers share a surprised look with each other that quickly melts into lust and need. “You tell us if you want us to stop, you understand?” Higuruma sternly asks.

You nod, but that isn’t enough. “Words,” he states. “Give me your words. Speak up.”

Your nipples harden at his firm tone, loving how he puts you so effortlessly in your place. “Yes, sir,” you reply, the words feeling so natural to you.

Higuruma sharply inhales, greatly affected by this. He quickly snatches one string out of the perfectly-tied knot at your neck, loosening your dress in one single act. The front slips off of you, revealing your hardened nipples and ass only covered by a black thong. 

“Shit,” Nanami exhales while Higuruma chuckles. “So that’s why that ass looked so good tonight,” he murmurs, taking a handful of it for himself. “You should be forbidden from wearin’ dresses and pencil skirts around us, y’know. You make it very hard to concentrate on much.” 

One of his big hands glides down your asscheeks to slide between your inner thighs. “But you know that, don’t you?” he whispers. His thick fingers slide against the wet cloth of your thong while Nanami feasts on your tits, molding and massaging them while his lips coat your nipples in saliva. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back at their ministrations. 

“Naughty little thing,” Higuruma tuts, still rubbing you. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You must’ve needed this from us, hm?” He presses his fingers up, rubbing your clit in circular motions. Your moans grow louder, leading Nanami to capture them with his mouth. 

“You need to quiet down, baby,” Higuruma says, humored. “You’ll have the entire party comin’ up to see why our good little intern is makin’ so much noise.” Nanami pulls away to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I bet she wants that,” he whispers. “Bet she wants everyone to know what she’s doing to us.” 

“I’m sure they do,” Higuruma chuckles. “This ain’t the first time we’ve walked around the office hard as rocks for her.” He rubs you a little harder, making you bite your lip at the sensations. Jealous, Nanami glares at his partner. “That’s enough, Hiromi,” he growls. “You need to share. You’re not the only one here.” 

Higuruma glares back, but allows the blonde to take over. You watch with shaky breath as Nanami slowly kneels down, staring up at you as he does. “I wanna taste you,” he confesses. “I wanna make you feel good. Will you let me?” Delirious from the foreplay, you nod and in an instant, your leg is hiked over his shoulder and he is sloppily French kissing your pussy. 

“Now look who’s bein’ fuckin’ greedy,” Higuruma growls, impatient. “I need a taste too. Scoot over.” “We’re both gonna tongue fuck that pussy now,” he whispers. “When you need to cum, you let yourself do it, got it?”

Once again, you gush at the tone of his voice, much to Nanami’s enjoyment. “Y-Yes, sir,” you whimper. Then all words cease to exist when Higuruma kneels behind you. For the next couple of minutes, your world is blinded by pleasure as you receive dual cunnilingus from your two bosses.

“Oh, shiiiit!” you groan, grasping Nanami’s head and Higuruma’s hand on your hip just to hold onto something. 

You feel as if you’re on a rollercoaster, getting pulled this way and that, your stomach fluttering from the bumpy ride and the rush. Your stomach flutters and your heart pounds with every grip of Higuruma’s hands on your ass holding you steady; every lap of Nanami’s tongue against your clit.

Higuruma is busy sliding his tongue along your slit, his nose rubbing against your ass…which feels good too! 

Everything they do feels good. Your juices and their spit collide, mixing together and making everything way more stimulating and sensitive than normal. You grip Nanami’s blonde hair, pushing him closer to your clit, your breathing coming out in huffs. You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more your lawyers lick, lap, and suck at your sloppy, juicy little pussy, drinking away as if they’re both starving for you. 

You don’t realize how loud you are until you hear yourself moaning throughout the empty office. “O-Oh, fuck!” you wail. “I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me—“ 

“Wait,” Higuruma hisses, suddenly shooting a hand up to cover your mouth. He stands up so fast that he scares the shit out of you, almost as if he teleported. “I hear footsteps.” Your heart explodes in your chest and Nanami immediately stops his pussy-eating to listen too. 

There, outside in the hallway, you hear footsteps and muffled laughter. Neither one of you moves or even breathes, standing still as statues in the dark. Luckily, the voices and footsteps disappear when a door opens and closes, leaving you in silence once more.

Higuruma looks down at Nanami, still shaken but also very horn. “Let’s get her on the desk,” he suggests, his gaze lustful. “She needs somethin’ for that mouth if she won’t shut the fuck up.” 

A smile that you’ve never seen before grows on Nanami’s face, his glasses foggy and nearly falling off of his face. Quickly, he stands and scoops you up without a word, wrapping your legs around his waist. You squeak as you’re picked up, your heels dangling from around his hips. He is fast transporting you from the floor to the desk that is luckily free of any files or papers. 

Nanami places you on his desk and takes off his glasses before proceeding to duck between your thighs. As he begins lapping at your cunt again, Higuruma comes over to your side, his groin at eye level.

Ziiiiip goes his fly and out comes his big, thick, hard cock. Your body and pussy throb at the sight of him. 

He stares down at you, lustful and demanding. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he demands, taking off his suit jacket. “Put those pretty lips on me.”

He rapidly begins uncuffing his sleeves and unbuttoning his top, revealing his mouthwateringly broad, hairy chest you want to nuzzle. You do as he says and wrap a hand around him to stroke him as you wrap your lips around his shaft. 

Higuruma smiles…and he barely does that, so you must be doing a good job. “That’s it,” he groans. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me.”

He wraps a hand in your hair and pulls you closer as he uses his other hand to pull his pants down farther, exposing his firm, plump ass. You become handsy, using one hand to feel up his body and delicious happy trail while you use the other to run your fingers through Nanami’s blonde locks. 

You feel like a princess and a slut all at once, receiving the best of both worlds. Finally, that urge to release comes again and you whimper and slobber all over Higuruma’s cock as you get close. “Cum for me, darling,” Nanami groans into your pussy. “Do as you’re told. Cum all over my fuckin’ face right now.” 

With a high-pitched squeal, you do, leaking and creaming all over Nanami’s tongue. He greedily laps you up as you write and shake on his desk, much to Higuruma’s enjoyment. He loves watching you ride out your orgasm with his dick in your luscious mouth, but fuck, is he jealous watching Nanami eat you out. “Don’t be greedy, Nanami,” he growls. “Give me some.” 

Nanami rises from between your thighs, his hair a mess and his lips coated in you. Higuruma grabs him from the back of his neck and smashes their lips together. Right in front of you. You gape at them, shook and totally confused as they sloppily kiss, swapping spit and your cum between their mouths. 

You had no idea they had a “thing” going on, but then again, you wouldn’t think you’d know. Nanami and Higuruma are very private people. But shit, is it hot to see them make out in front of you for only your eyes only. 

When they pull away, Higuruma smirks down at you. “Look at this naughty girl gettin’ off to us,” he snorts. “You won’t go tellin’ people about us, right, baby?” You shake your head as best as you can with his cock still sliding in and out of your mouth, making him groan at the vibrations. 

Nanami watches, quickly stripping off his jacket and shirt to expose his beautiful muscles and chest pebbled in fine, blonde hair. “I can’t fuckin’ take much more,” he huffs. “I need to fuck you now or I’ll lose my mind.” He begins toying with your tits, massaging one while Higuruma plays with the other. “Tell me you want that too. Tell me what you want, Y/N.” 

Higuruma pinches one of your nipples, causing your mouth to open wide on a gasp and his big cock to slip out. “Need you,” you gasp out. “Both of you. I don’t care how! Please just fuck me!” You’ve never been so fucking horny in your life. You feel as if you’ll die if you don’t cum again now. 

The two lawyers look at each other, both contemplating how to maneuver this as if you’re a case they can’t quite figure out how to win. “You go first,” Higuruma suggests. “I wanna fuck her throat a little more.”

Nanami doesn’t need to be told twice, his eyes molten with lust. “Bend over,” he demands and you do, assuming the position. 

The two groan at the sight of your plump ass exposed over Nanami’s desk, your heels still on. They both give your ass an open-palmed smack, making you gasp at the pleasurable sting.

“So good at taking orders,” Nanami murmurs in your ear. “I like that. That’s what good girls do.” He gives your cheek a peck before finally, he slides his cock against your pussy and slowly slides himself inside of you. 

You both gasp at the sensations, your pussy walls squeezing around him as they become accommodated to his size. He is thick and long, making you feel so full and so stretched. Nanami murmurs sweet nothings in your ear as he coaxes you to rub your clit, making you wetter. Once you’re finally relaxed is when he proceeds to grab your hips and fuck your shit up. 

His desk shakes slightly as he pistons into you, his hips slamming into your ass, causing the sound of skin slapping against skin to echo throughout the room. Your moans and cries are loud and clear, possibly audible even to the party. “Fuck!” you loudly moan. “Oh, my God, yes!” 

Another cock slaps against your mouth and slides in, not stopping until it is in your throat. “Uh-uh, baby,” Higuruma chuckles. “Too loud. Little slut just can’t help herself, can she, Nanami?” His partner is too busy ramming your cunt to answer, doing his best to hold back his moans and gasps. 

Higuruma snorts. “Neither can you, apparently.” Nanami glares at him, silently telling him to fuck off as he presses his front into your back, pushing himself deeper. “Push back on me, darling. Fuck me back.”

You do as he orders, tossing your ass back into him and pushing yourself farther onto his wonderful cock. “Good girl!” he moans. “Needed this for so long. Needed you so bad.” 

He murmurs and babbles into your shoulder, suckling on it as he pounds into your wet heat over and over again. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel the urge to cum again as Nanami’s balls slap against your needy clit, stimulating you further.

“M’cwumming!” you whine around Higuruma’s cock just as that second intense wave washes over you. 

“Good girl,” Nanami grunts, holding your shaking body close as your pussy walls grip and stroke him. “Such a good, good girl for me.” He slows his pace but continues to fuck you, edging you and making your orgasm last even longer. Your head feels dizzy and your thighs are slick with cum, but they’re not done yet. 

“Let’s switch,” Nanami tells Higuruma. “I need to feel her mouth.” Higuruma looks ready to fuck a hole in a wall with the wild look he has in his eyes. They slowly pull out of you and switch spots, Higuruma now behind you while Nanami is in front. Just as quickly as they switched, they slide back into your holes again. 

“Shit, baby,” Higuruma hisses, gripping your hips in his big, calloused hands. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. I can get so deep.” His hand wraps around your throat while Nanami fucks it, groaning at its tightness. “You want it deeper, don’t you?” he teasingly asks. “You want me to fuck this pussy till it cums again?” 

“Mmm-hmm!” you desperately whine. Nothing sounds better to you right now. You are drunk off of the pleasure and these two sexy men, needing their cocks and cum like you need air to breathe. 

The two begin to fuck you in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in, filling up one of your holes. You have never loved being used before, feeling like an office slut for them. Maybe this can be one of your duties—sucking and fucking them when they are stressed at work. Wouldn’t that be so nice? Your body certainly thinks so. 

Higuruma’s heavy balls slap against your clit as he pistons into you, making the desk shake. “Fuck, baby!”he grunts. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.” Nanami lets out an agreeable moan, fucking your throat. “M-Me too,” he stammers. “You’re gonna be our good little assistant and take our cum for us, darling?” 

Before you can even think about answering or trying to, you hear something. Knock, knock, knock. “Um…Mr. Higuruma?” someone calls outside the door. “Mr. Nanamin, are you in there? It’s Itadori!” Instantly, the two lawyers grow still and anxiety pushes your hormones out the door. 

“Shit!” Higuruma hisses. He clears his throat, doing his best to sound like he wasn’t just pumping you full of his cock. “Y-Yes, we’re in here,” he calls. “Do you need something, Itadori?” 

Yuji Itadori is by far one of the cutest and sweetest interns in the firm, so you don’t feel too angry about being interrupted. Just extremely sexually frustrated. “One of the lawyers sent me up here to fetch you,” Itadori explains. “They’re about to start the anniversary speech in about fifteen minutes!”

Slowly, Higuruma and Nanami begin to fuck you again, moving tortuously slow. You can feel yourself growing closer to orgasm and do your best to keep quiet, glad to have something in your mouth. “We’ll be down soon,” Nanami replies. “Thank you, Itadori.”

“You betcha!” Itadori chirps. “Oh, and if you see Y/N, tell her that the cake is out! I saved her a slice!” Then off he goes, his footsteps disappearing down the hall and the ding of the elevator slicing through the silence. Once he’s gone, you all breathe a collective sigh of relief. 

“Now then,” Higuruma growls, “let’s make this little slut cum before we get caught.” 

Your bosses make do with the time they have and fill your holes with each vigorous, pounding thrust that makes both your mouth and pussy salivate. The office is filled with the sounds of your hushed moans, creaky desk legs, and the light slapping of skin as Higuruma fucks and fucks and fucks your pussy like a machine. 

When he finally feels you squeezing around him, he slides one hand down between you to rub your clit. “Cum for me,” he urges you. “Give it to me, baby. Cum on that dick now.” 

Maybe it’s the way he talks you through it or how Nanami sounds fucking your face or the fact that you’re on a time crunch, but the third orgasm quickly crashes down onto you as despite its slow buildup. It is just as tense as the first two, making you whine around Nanami’s cock as your cunt massages and strokes Higuruma off. 

“Fuck!” he grunts. “I’m about to cum too. Where you want it, baby? Tell me now before I make the decision for you.” 

“O-On me!” you gasp out, still in the throes of your orgasm.  “Do it on me! Anywhere you want!” 

Quickly, Higuruma pulls his cock, sobbing wet with your cum, out of you while Nanami ruts into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. Their sexy, deep moans and grunts of release fill the air as each hot load of cum coats your ass and your tongue.

You shudder and deliriously giggle as they cum, feeling all of that pleasure and the high from your orgasm collide. As your orgasms pass, you three pant and huff in the darkness, recovering from the activity. 

Clearing his throat, Nanami pulls out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his load. Meanwhile, Higuruma takes some tissues from the desk and sops up his cum up from your ass. Though it is sweet, it is also very, very awkward.

‘Of course, it is, you slut!’ you critically think. ‘You just fucked your fucking bosses!’ 

Once Higuruma finishes, he tosses the tissues away and steps away to allow you to freely move. You stay laid across the desk, not wanting to look up and see the regret in their eyes. You clear your throat, trying to ease the awkward tension. “Well, that’s one way to celebrate a job offer,” you breathlessly say. 

It works. The two lawyers begin to laugh, their deep, rumbling chuckles appealing to your ear. Finally, you look up and find them smiling. “Yes, it is,” Nanami chuckles, eyes and cheeks aglow. “You were amazing, darling.” His pet name and the praise makes your stomach flutter like a school girl’s when she sees her crush. 

“Hope you don’t go givin’ that to any other employer in your future,” Higuruma chuckles, his body and forehead glistening in sweat. Your eyes drink in his body, committing his and Nanami’s to memory. 

Your stomach flips, glad to see that things aren’t awkward or weird anymore. You move to sit up on Nanami’s desk, facing both of your bosses. “Oh, trust me…I won’t. I doubt I’d have any employers as sexy as you two.” You stare up at them through your lashes, earning two sweet kisses on the lips in response as if they are your boyfriends. Not your bosses.

”The feeling is mutual,” Higuruma sighs. “You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to do that with you.” Nanami hums in response, gently moving a strand of hair behind your ear, but it’s really just an excuse to touch you.

Despite the tenderness, you can’t keep denying the pink elephant in the room. “So…what now?” you ask. 

The two lawyers stare at you blankly, obviously not quite getting what you mean. Higuruma laughs, already buttoning up his shirt. “Well, if you mean in the present tense, I suggest we all get cleaned up and go back to the party before someone comes lookin’ for us again.” 

Nanami pulls his pants up, fastening his belt. You watch, doing your best to swallow that lump in your throat. That isn’t what you meant….but what else could you mean?

Surely, you don’t think this can be anything real or official. Friends with benefits or fuck buddies, sure. But actually dating your bosses? Your employers and mentors? That would be a tale for the entire firm to gossip about.

So you hang your tail between your legs and push away your disappointment. “Oh…yes, of course,” you softly say. “We definitely should. Uh…can one of you help me with my dress?” 

You stand and turn around for Nanami to help you tie your dress behind your neck. You do the rest, hiding your face from them as it flushes with embarrassment. You don’t want them to see you cry if you do. You can’t tell what you’ll do off of the Brüte champagne.

After you finish dressing and checking your hair to make sure it doesn’t look too suspicious, the lawyers first check the hall to see if it’s empty. 

Then they lead you down the hall to the elevator. None of you speak. The air is tense again with silence and your shoes clicking across the floor, the gravity of your decision swirling in the air like cigarette smoke. Pungent, heady, and inescapable.

You feel regretful of your decision immediately despite how good and right it felt in the moment. You wouldn’t be surprised if Higuruma and Nanami revoked the job offer tomorrow morning. 

You press the elevator button and the box luckily comes pretty quick. The lawyers let you in first before moving in behind you. Higuruma presses the button to the lobby and the doors close. Now in close proximity to them again, you’re aware of both men standing on either side of you, facing ahead. You clutch your purse to your stomach, biting your lip to avoid blurting something dumb. 

“If you meant what now as in what about us, I hope you realize that this isn’t just a fling for us,” Higuruma says, his deep voice filling the tight space. “It can be if you want it to be, but if you’d like this to be more official, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Your mouth falls agap as you gape at him. He stares back, his eyes intense and unmoving. 

“Me either,” Nanami adds. “Excuse my language and call me a selfish motherfucker, but I can’t say the idea of seeing you with another man other than my partner doesn’t tick me off.”

His fingers dance across your lower back, giving you shivers. Delicious shivers that only grow as the fact of the matter processes in your mind: this is real now. 

Better say this now than never then. You slowly take their hands in both of yours, your heart stuttering. “I’d like that too,” you shyly admit. “But maybe we can keep this on the low for now? Just until I start my new job, at least.” 

Ding the elevator goes as you finally arrive to the lobby. Nanami smiles, running his thumb along your knuckles. “If that’s what you want, Ms. L/N,” he teases. “See you after the speech.” Higuruma gives your hand a squeeze before he releases it and fixes his tie just as the doors open onto the lobby. 

As you walk out of the elevator, you feel two hands open-palm smack you against your ass. You squeak, hiding your smile as the two lawyers stride away to the stage entrance to the ballroom as if nothing happened. 

You take another entrance, walking through the one that cuts into the middle of the ballroom. You immediately find your intern group standing by the stage waiting for the speech to begin and strut over to them, unable to keep your hips from swaying. It is as if your lawyers amped your confidence up to about one hundred. 

Yuki turns to you, a slice of cake in her hand. “There you are!” she announces. “Look, Yuji’s cute ass left you some cake! Where the hell have you been?” 

You give her a smile and take the plate from her, needing something sweet to end your night off right. “I just got a job offer.” 

THE END. 

[shuttermyisland]

Ask Me When You Come Back

Pairing: Ben Grimm/Reader

Summary: Ben and reader talk the night before his big trip to space. Ben and reader talk the day he gets back from space. 

Word count: 2k

Tags and warnings: Fluff, capital F. Some suggestive material. Reader is she/her. Approximately two uses of y/n. Reader is college friends with Ben, Reed, and Sue. 

(My first fic EVER. Longtime x reader enjoyer, first time poster. I LOVE BEN GRIMM!! Decided to escape lurking to add to the tag. My man needs more content. Might post some John Walker x reader as well, but Ben has been clogging my arteries. NOT proofread teehee :D Thank you for reading!)

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“Do you remember the night we met?” Ben spoke softly, playing with your hair as you laid across his chest.

“Of course, I do.” Your eyes were half-closed and voice muffled from his chest. 

Neither of you could sleep. Tomorrow he would be heading off into space for who knows how long.

You always loved his drive for exploring and flying, but you couldn’t help but feel upset about this whole adventure. Your closest friends would be with him, one being the smartest guy in the world, which made you feel a bit better.

He was so excited for this, so you were too. 

But as the day drew nearer, a quiet change happened. You both slept closer, held each other tighter, and much like tonight - stayed awake longer. 

When he didn’t respond you propped yourself up with your hand and faced him. He didn’t stop playing with your hair, only adjusting his hand as you turned. You followed his eyes to where they were fixed on the ceiling. “Reminiscing about the good ole days?”

He smiled before lowering his eyes to yours, moving the hand from your hair to cup your face. “Somethin’ like that.”

You just stared at each other for a while, comfortable in the silence. His thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. 

“We should sleep.” You broke the silence after a particularly long yawn left you. 

“I know. But I don’t want to.”

“Ben Grimm scared to go into space?” You scoffed before sarcastically responding. 

He smiled again. “I’m not gonna see this beautiful face for a while. Just want to take it in a bit longer.” His smile remained, but his eyes softened. 

The sincerity melted your heart. You could feel tears forming and quickly shifted your focus to the nightstand. “Reed won’t let you bring the locket with you?” You traced your hand across his chest while reaching for the small golden necklaces placed on top of each other. Each having a photo of the other in it. 

Ben kept his eyes on you as you fiddled with the dual lockets, intent on memorizing every feature before the night was over. “Even if Reed said no, you know I’d sneak it up there.” His hand went back to your hair, twirling it between his fingers. “I really prefer the real thing, though.” 

You chuckled and tossed the necklaces back to their resting place, intent on making the most of this final night with your astronaut. “Oh yeah? You really gonna miss me that much?” Your fingers traced his chest again.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He leaned forward, closing the gap between you and moving both his hands to cup your face.

You matched his lean and kissed him. His hands stayed on your face, occasionally moving your hair behind your ears as it got more heated. You kissed him like you would never be able to kiss him again. The thought flickering in your brain for a split second and taking hold of you.

'What if he doesn’t come back?'

You forgot how to breathe for a moment, heart racing, and tears forming again. You had to pull away. 

“Why’d you ask about when we first met?” You both breathed heavily, his eyes slow to open, desperate to keep kissing you. 

He took a moment to compose himself, “Because that was the night I told Reed I had a crush on you -” 

“Aww, you had a crush on me!?” You couldn’t help but interject, smiling at the thought of him liking you before you even officially met.

He smiled back at the teasing, “Yes, of course I did. And actually, Sue knew long before I told anyone.” 

This wasn’t helping get rid of the tears forming in your eyes.  

“Anyways, I told Reed and he was like, oh, interesting, Sue was right, and -” Ben paused to laugh, “and, he was just so nonchalant about it, and went right back to whatever he was doing. Of course, you were talking to Sue that night and, you know, she invited you over and -” 

“That explains why she was so insistent we met.” You interrupted again, putting the pieces together in your head. “Sue was playing matchmaker the whole time! Here I thought she was actually trying to get helping hands for my final project.”

“Right, yeah, sorry sweetheart. I still don’t actually know anything about botany, I just wanted to be close to you.”

You both giggle at the memory, but Ben goes soft again. “That’s not why I brought it up though.” He paused and you felt the heaviness on your heart again.

“See, before Sue brought you over we were just watching the two of you talk because, well, yeah - anyways, I told Reed and he just said whatever basically and then Sue said something to make you laugh. And I just knew. I told Reed I was gonna marry that girl one day.” He still had a faint smile from the memory, but his eyes were serious.

You paused. Eyes blinking for a moment at the realization of what he just said. You felt a tear roll down your cheek. “Ben…”

He brushed the lone tear away with his thumb. “Will you marry me?” 

You chuckled and smiled away the formation of more tears, “Ask me that again when you land.” 

Ben’s face dropped and he furrowed his brow slightly, sensing the lightheartedness in the response. “Wait, is that a no?” 

“No, it’s a reason for you to come back safe and sound. You come back down here and ask me again when you get home.” You gripped his face and tried your best to sound authoritative, but his wide eyes were just so cute. 

“Ohh, I see how it is.” He moved your hand off his face, “Waiting for me to leave the planet to move on instead of just breaking it off.” He smiled as his hands wandered down your body.

“Maybe.” You teased, letting his hands pull you onto his lap.

“Well, in that case, maybe I need to do something to convince you it’ll be worth the wait.” 

You were fully on him now, hands wrapped around his neck. “Oh yeah? Well it’s getting late, tough guy, better make it quick.” You bit your lip at the neediness in his gaze.

“I don’t think I can do that, sweetheart.” You yelped as he flipped you over. “I don’t want to risk losing you.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You fiddled with the locket around your neck as more and more people rushed throughout the halls of ANSA headquarters. They had only been gone two weeks when the cosmic radiation cut communications with the team. ANSA finally got a reading on the spacecraft late last night. They were close.

He was almost home.

Hopefully.

Since the first sign of distress, you’d been here. Pacing the halls, asking anyone who looked at you if there was any news. The hope was that the radiation just interfered with the signals and everything was fine. Deep down you knew there was more to it though. Especially with how frantic everyone seemed. 

Touchdown was hours ago, or at least that’s what it felt like. You didn’t see any of them get off the ship, too many people blocking your view. Before you knew it everyone was rushed to different ends of the facility’s medical wing. Nobody would say anything, but your heart sank when you saw two people in full on hazmat suits exiting a set of doors. 

It was in the name after all, cosmic radiation, couldn’t be too careful.

You found a chair unoccupied among the chaos and sank into it. The exhaustion finally catching up to you as you sank down. You undid the chain behind your neck and stared at the image inside the locket. Ben’s portrait in his space suit, smiling in front of an image of the moon. You remember that day like it was yesterday. How handsome you told him he looked in the suit. How proud he was to be apart of something like this. You smiled at the thought before softly sobbing into your hands. 

You didn’t realize you nodded off until a hand gently rustled you awake. The locket was still clenched into your fist, leaving an imprint on your palm. Before you even checked who it was that woke you, you rubbed the long-dry tears from your cheeks, trying to compose yourself.

“Oh, honey…” The familiar voice of Sue Storm made you jump to your feet immediately. Your best friend was standing before you in a set of ill-fitting scrubs. 

The tears came flooding back out as you lunged at her for a hug. “Sue!” Another sob. “What happened?! Are you okay!? Where’s -” 

“y/n…” Reed spoke softly behind you, interrupting your thoughts and forcing your gaze behind you. 

You shifted with Sue, not wanting to let go of her, but still wanting to see another familiar face.

“Reed, you two are okay? What about Ben? Johnny?” 

Reed averted his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, lowering his head slightly. “Thanks for mentioning me, y/n. I know I’m the fifth wheel, but it’s nice to be remembered.” Johnny interjected before Reed could speak.

You were firmly discombobulated by now, head shifting between your three friends. You had so many questions and no one seemed willing to answer. 

As you went to pull away from Sue and properly face the others, she held you once more, but tighter. “We’ll explain everything later.” She pulled away this time. “He needs to see you first.”

Your heart sank. “Is he okay?” 

Sue nodded. “He’s okay, but… he just needs to see you, y/n.” 

You furrowed your brow at her, wondering why she was being so cryptic. Scanning the men's faces didn’t help either. Reed could barely meet your gaze and Johnny was unnervingly deadpan. 

“Okay... where is he?”

Sue led you down the hall, hand in yours as the two boys followed behind. She stopped a bit before the door and nodded to you, flashing a soft smile. You gulped hard. 

‘Is he only a torso in there? Did he lose all his limbs? Was he covered in radiation burns and blinded or deaf or mute or all of the above?’

Every thought imaginable ran through your head about what was waiting behind that door. Every scenario, of course, but the one you actually saw as you peered through the window on the door.

A hulking orange figure was sat on the edge of the exam table. 

You carefully entered the room, eyes wide at the sight before you. An attempt at an appropriately sized medical gown was crudely thrown together for the figure. 

His head was bowed, eyes fixated on the floor, seemingly ignoring or not noticing the footsteps approaching. 

“...Ben?” You stepped further in, peeking your head around to try and get a glimpse of the figure’s face. 

His head slightly perked up hearing your voice, he was still withdrawn and trying to hide himself from the shame. “Yeah... It’s me, y/n.” His voice was soft and low, but distinctly still your Ben.

All you could do was sob as you leapt towards him. You didn’t care if he was any of the hundreds of scenarios you thought up, as long as he was still your Ben. 

He jumped at the reaction, holding his arms up and away from you, unsure of how to hold you.

You sobbed again. Harder than ever. “Oh, Ben, I thought you were dead…” You muffled against his gown. You were too caught up in emotions to realize in the moment how his skin was so rough even through the gown material. 

Hearing you sob made Ben tear up himself, deciding it was worth it to cradle your head as gently as possible to try and soothe you. “Shh, sweetheart, shhh. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m … okay.” He hesitated, but with you in his arms, he did feel okay. He felt safe and loved and like he was still Ben. 

Your hands cupped his face without a hint of restraint and forced him to meet your eyeline. Seeing his beautiful blue eyes sealed the deal for you. This was your Ben. “Are you okay? What the hell happened up there?” You managed out between sobs. 

He carefully moved his hand from the back of your head to mirror your face cupping. “I’m okay now, sweetheart... I’ll let Reed explain the rest later.” He rested his head softly against your shoulder. “Right now I just need you.” 

You nuzzled back into his gown and wrapped your arms around him. Sure he was a bit… rougher than you were used to, but it was still him. That’s all that mattered to you.

You two held each other for a while, comfortable in the silence, before you interrupted it. “Please stay on this planet for a while, Benjamin. For my sanity. Please.” You chuckled, voice still stuffy from crying. 

He laughed too, the same laugh you fell in love with, and everything felt okay again. “I promise, sweetheart. Boots on the ground for all of us for a while, I think…”  He trailed off, gently adjusting his weight. “y/n…”

You pulled back, still holding him, but face to face now. It was still easy as ever to get lost in his blue eyes. “Ask me.”

He furrowed his rocky brow, “What?”

“I told you the night before you left to ask me again when you land. You landed. So ask me.”

It all clicked for him as he sat before you, wide eyed and astounded. “You still want to? Y/n, I wouldn’t blame you if -”

“Stop.” You put a finger to his lips, moving to caress his cheek, “I love you Ben Grimm. If you thought turning into a rock would get rid of me that easy, you’re going to have to try harder.” 

He smiled wide and grabbed your arms. “I love you so much.” You both leaned in, resting foreheads together, “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more.”

You giggled and pulled away a bit. “Actually, can you wait to ask me when you’re wearing real clothes… and when your family isn’t watching through a window.”

Ben pulled back, brow furrowed again, and glanced at the door. Three peeking heads dodged out of frame as he did. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They’re lucky we love them.”

You smiled and leaned in, closing your eyes for a kiss.

“Wait, y/n, uh -”

“Ben Grimm nervous to kiss a pretty girl?” 

He smiled back “Absolutely not.” 

You leaned back in and pressed your lips to his, ignoring the chatter outside the door.

It was different for sure, but still good. 

Still Ben.

[meiplays]

All That Power

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female!Reader

Summary: That new suit is lethal. One look and you’re in his lap, hands roaming leather and armor, letting him know exactly how deep your superhero/suit kink runs.

Rating: 17+ SFW — very suggestive, but no explicit content

Warnings: thigh grinding, heated makeout, neck kisses, lap straddling, superhero suit kink, power kink, leather + stubble sensory detail, language (Soldier Boy’s mouth), shameless desperate reader, cocky smug Ben, zero plot just tension

Word Count: ~1.2k

A/N: I saw the new suit. I blacked out. This is the result. Soldier Boy in that leather? Yeah, dangerous.💚🟩ANYWAYS I WROTE THIS AS A WELCOME BACK GIFT FOR @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery & was inspired by @pieandflannel's stuff <33

Divider creds: @uzmacchiato

Inspired by this post:

The second you see him, your knees almost give out.

The new suit is a weapon.

Dark green leather stretched over broad shoulders, gold stars catching the light with every move, the eagle crest over his chest looking like it was carved for him alone. The long coat frames him perfectly, shifting just enough to flash the armor beneath. He smells like clean soap, leather warmed by skin, and that faint smoky edge of gunpowder.

You’re staring. You can’t stop.

Ben sees it instantly, of course. His smirk builds slow, lazy, confident. “Well, doll? What’s the verdict?”

You swallow, eyes dragging down and back up like you’re trying to memorize every seam. “The verdict is… you’re dangerous.”

His voice dips lower. “Sweetheart, I was dangerous before the upgrade.”

You step closer without realizing, your fingers finding the lapel of his coat. The leather is soft but firm under your touch, warm from his body. You smooth your hand down over the chest plate — the armor hard, cool at first, but heat radiating through — then trace the ridges along his side.

“You’re gonna leave marks,” he says, but he doesn’t move to stop you.

“That’s the point.”

That gets you a low chuckle. “Careful, doll. Keep lookin’ at me like that and I’ll have you in my lap before you can blink.”

You don’t even give him the chance to act on it — you push, guiding him back until his knees hit the couch. He drops into it with a grunt, and before he can breathe out another word, you’re straddling him.

His hands land on your hips like they belong there, fingers pressing through fabric into your skin. “Guess I’m not the only one with bad ideas.”

Up close, the suit is intoxicating. Your palms skim over his shoulders, feeling the give of leather stretched over muscle, then down his chest, across the gold star that sits right over his heart. You can hear the faint creak of the material with every shift of his body under you.

“You’ve got a thing for this, don’t you?” His voice is a mix of amusement and something darker.

“You’re imagining things.” You roll your hips forward, slow, testing. The friction makes heat coil low in your stomach — the thick muscle of his thigh under you is unyielding, the leather under your palms hot from the friction.

He grins like he’s just won a bet. “Oh, I’m not imaginin’ a damn thing. You’re gettin’ off on this suit.”

You try to scoff, but it comes out breathier than intended. Your hips move again, a little firmer this time. The shift of pressure draws a sharp exhale from you, and his hands immediately tighten at your hips, guiding the next roll.

“That’s it,” he says, voice rough now. “Ride it, sweetheart. Show me how bad you want your hero.”

Your fingers grip the front of his coat, pulling him into a kiss that’s heated and desperate. His mouth moves over yours with force, tasting faintly of whiskey and dominance. He kisses like he owns you, deep and claiming, tongue sweeping against yours until you’re dizzy.

Then he breaks away, his lips dragging along your jaw and down to your neck. His stubble scratches against sensitive skin, and you can’t stop the quiet sound that escapes when he bites, just enough to make you feel it. He soothes it with his tongue, then sucks harder, leaving the faint promise of a mark.

“Sensitive,” he murmurs against your throat. His breath is hot there, his voice vibrating against your pulse. “Bet if I kept you here long enough, I could make you lose your damn mind without even takin’ the suit off.”

You press your hips down harder, chasing friction, and his thigh flexes under you in response. The pressure is perfect, sending heat spiraling through you, your fingers clenching tighter in his coat.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up your spine to cup the back of your neck, holding you close. The other keeps its grip on your hip, rolling you just how he wants. “Look at you. My perfect little power junkie.”

You can’t even form a comeback — your breaths are short, sharp, matching the slow grind he’s guiding. The creak of leather, the heat between you, the sheer presence of him under you — it’s all-consuming.

When he finally kisses you again, it’s slower, deeper, a drag of lips and tongue that leaves you clinging to him. His forehead rests against yours when you break apart, both of you breathing harder than you should be.

“This suit?” His smile is pure trouble. “Yeah. It’s stayin’. And you’re never gonna stop thinkin’ about it.”

You laugh against his mouth, still catching your breath. “I can live with that.”

“Good,” he says, dragging you closer one last time, “because I plan on ruining you in it.”

[pbucketsblurbs]

“Rookie of the Year (and Other Slightly Unhinged Celebrations)”

Still Here part 16

This story is almost done 🥺 I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read Paige and Zoe's story!

August–September 2025 | Dallas, TX

The last month of the regular season feels like a fever dream. We’re on planes more than we’re home. My left knee hates me. I eat more protein bars than meals.

Zoe texts me before every game:

“Don’t get blocked by anyone under 6'2" tonight.” “Remember: shooting is hot, passing is not.” “You are the moment. Now go be dramatic about it.”

She watches every game home or away with a notebook like she’s scouting me. Then she gives me feedback like: “8/10 on the crossover, but -3 for the postgame fit. Where are the colors, baby?”

I tell her I’m too tired to match socks. She tells me to “rise above the mediocrity.”

She’s my person. Even when I’m running on fumes, her voice is the one I hear clearest.

August 17 | Last Home Game of the Season

She drops 24 points on the Liberty like she’s been doing this for years. Nails three clutch free throws in the final 40 seconds, flexes just enough to make Twitter explode, and ends the night with a postgame interview where she says, quote,

“I play better when my girl’s in the crowd.”

They cut to me mid-sip of Sprite and a face full of nachos.

Instant meme. Paige makes it her phone background. I hate her. I love her. It’s complicated.

August 31 | Playoff Elimination

It’s over fast. One-and-done in the first round.

The locker room’s quiet. No crying, just silence — the kind of stunned stillness that only hits you when the dream ends before you’re ready.

I shower. I sit. I text Zoe:

“Done.”

She texts back instantly:

“On the way home yet?”

“Yeah.”

“Pizza or pancakes?”

“Both?”

“Knew you were gonna say that. See you soon, Rookie.”

September 4 | Apartment Surprise

She has meetings and media crap all day.

I have a budget, no ladder, and a dream.

By the time she walks in, I’ve filled the apartment with:

-Blue and green streamers that definitely violate our lease -Balloons spelling out “ROTY” -A  huge cutout of her face I got printed at Office Depot -A handmade banner that says: “CONGRATS ON BEING GOOD AT BASKETBALL (and sex)”

There’s a trophy from Party City on the counter with a sticky note labeled Best Gay Rookie, and I’ve lit every candle we own so it smells like she walked into a eucalyptus-scented bakery.

She opens the door. Freezes. Blinks. Then full-on cackles.

“I love you so much it hurts, honey this fucking ridiculous ” she says, throwing her bag down.

“Welcome to the party,” I say, putting a Burger King paper crown on her head.

She kisses me, pulls me into her arms, and whispers, “You’re the only award I really wanted.”

Then she sniffs. “Wait. Is that cinnamon rolls?”

“Obviously.”

Later That Night

We’re curled up under a blanket that Zoe stole from my mom’s house over winter break junior year. Her head’s on my chest. My Rookie of the Year trophy is on the coffee table, wearing the Burger King crown.

Zoe traces lazy circles on my arm. “So, what now?”

“I train. I rest. I sign a shoe deal. I learn to cook something that isn’t eggs. We go on vacation and have hot sex”

She nuzzles closer if that's even possible and hums. “I like that idea.”

“Imma take you wherever you wanna go mama. Tomorrow you can look into places you wanna go.”

She smiles into my hoodie. “That I can do.”

Rookie Season Recap:

WNBA Rookie of the Year

23.1 PPG | 6.4 APG | 1.9 SPG

Two ejections for excessive eye-rolling at refs

One apartment turned into a fire hazard for love

One very sarcastic, very committed girlfriend who made every night better.

Ahhhh I will be posting the last chapter tonight around midnight!

[furniture-fetishist]

🤩 HELP WANTED 🤩

Position Open: Professional Furniture Fucker

Hey, guys! Tiff here. This blog has blown up in the best of ways and it’s become my favorite little project.

However, with the blog getting more popular and the fall semester right around the corner, I won’t have the time to focus on this blog in the way I think it deserves.

So I need help.

I’m looking for a mod or two to add to the blog and help me run things around here! Do you enjoy imagining Date Everything characters in less-than-innocent scenarios? Do you enjoy writing? Why not combine those passions and write furniture smut for the masses with me?

I’m gonna be holding “auditions” to find some talented people to join the blog as mods. Please read the info below and let me know if there are any questions. I’m so excited to hear from you guys!

‼️ Blog Mod Applications ‼️

⭐️ Qualifications

18+ ONLY

Fluent in English

⭐️ Job Duties

Complete at least one request a day, preferably more. Exceptions can be made, just let me know if you’re gonna be offline for a while.

Answer requests in order as much as possible. If something just INSPIRES you and you just have to write it that second, that’s fine, or if there’s something you’re not comfortable with, that’s fine too. Just let me know if it’s the latter so I can take care of it.

No posting content that could get flagged or banned. We are rule-abiding degenerates.

Send me drafts of your answers to requests before you post them for the first week or so, just for approval while I’m getting to know you.

Overall, this IS just a silly little horny tumblr blog, so the biggest thing is to have fun, enjoy yourself, and don’t get burned out.

⭐️ Formatting Rules

Try to keep formatting consistent across posts. Small variations are fine, I’d just like things to look kinda uniform.

Always tag anons, we love our anons here.

Always include a picture of the character’s or characters’ sprites that are the subject of the request at the bottom of the post.

We will start signing off which mod wrote which post.

Leave the masterlist editing to me.

⭐️ Application and Information

You will either DM me or send me an ask with the answers to your application. DMs MUST be from main blog and asks CANNOT be on anon.

Applications will be open for 3 days. They will close at 5:30 PM (CST) on Sunday, August 17th.

Once applications are closed, I will take a day or two to look over them and reach out to you if you got the position.

At that time, we can discuss things a bit and I can answer any questions.

You will then be added to the blog and given permissions.

I will edit the blog description and intro post to include you since it won’t be a one man show anymore. ☺️

‼️‼️ Application Questions ‼️‼️

Name or Nickname (What you will sign off as at the end of your posts):

Favorite character (for fun):

What characters are you most comfortable with writing? Just name a few:

Characters you will NOT write:

Topics and kinks you will NOT write (Note: If there are any topics or kinks that come up later that maybe you didn’t know or think about until you saw it, that’s fine, it happens and can be worked around, I’m just trying to get an idea.):

Please answer both of the prompts below as you would if it was a request you’ve received on the blog:

“UwU can I pls have Hector dick headcanons pls”

“Could I have a super short fic of thigh riding with Bodhi?”

Again, please send answers through the ask box or through a DM. Thank you guys! I appreciate every application!

[your-ace-fluffy-neighbour]

So I came across so much online bullying of therians. We were never “popular” per se, but in my day people just simply a) didn’t know we existed b) didn’t care.

From what I can tell people think numerous things about being a therian. I think you know most of them so I’m just gonna break them down to what’s wrong with being mad about each.

If people think this is children playing pretend…then I must ask…did you just admit to bullying children?

Second, if people think it’s a mental disorder…once again…did you just admit to bullying mentally troubled people? (if you think this and the one above…even worse…)

If you think it’s some kinky furry thing. Why would you want to interact with the community? 😐🫵 Sus as hell. If you keep commenting and interacting, you’re gonna get more content like that. 🫡

If you think it’s just weird. Do you mean the thing Disney and basically all children’s media tell you to be? To not try to fit in? Be so fr… Are you so normal? Really? I think you’re actually bullying people who have weird interests because your weird interest can’t be enjoyed publically 😮

There are also a lot of rumours going around about the community, especially after that political joke/ scandal where some furries online for fun (they wanted to see how the government would react) started a fake movement to place litters in schools.

Idk. Weird time to be online. Out of all the weird shit, idk why this community has it the hardest. Literally just people posting animal images. The most scandalous people even write “me” under them oh no

All in all, I think many people also just simply enjoy invalidating others. Because they have a certain knowledge and worldview, and they think everyone else who thinks outside that, are wrong. Simpleton behaviour for sure. Low empathy, low emotional IQ. It would require to believe someone about their own experiences, even though you haven’t felt that way.

[falindankovsky]

Got possessed by the demons again

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[king-lena]

watermour + text post meme (part 56) // inspiration credit to @watermourdivorce and their top tier watermour coded reblogs

[yeyayeya]

So like for some reason my Jugdral/FE4/Scárthur obsession is back and like I want to post stuff but like I have no idea where to like even start lol

I’ve not been posting much at all this year, as I didn’t really have much to talk about or post, but for some reason the Jugdral brainrot is back lol

Just allow me to get my thoughts sorted out