#best spacious restaurants

[r3starttt]

PAIRING: Caitlyn x younger reader

CW: heacanons. toxic|mean caitlyn. modern au. slightly NSFW: spit. sexting. masturbation.

TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @nosferatuv

Caitlyn, who spoils you endlessly, though not always in obvious ways. It’s not about extravagant shopping every day. Instead, she hands you her card when you’re heading out with your friends or family. She plans weekends away to escape the monotony of home—maybe a cozy cabin.

Caitlyn, who's making sure you receive gifts with no occasion attached: a book you casually mentioned you wanted, your favorite perfume, or a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Caitlyn, who ensures you always have the best—well-fitted clothes, styled hair, manicured nails, and shoes that you want. She makes it her mission to provide for you, sometimes before you even realize you need something.

Caitlyn, who fills your day when she takes you out. It starts with a delicious breakfast she ordered (she wouldn’t dare attempt cooking and ruin it for you). Then a massage, a spa session, or perhaps a museum visit if you’re in the mood for it. She drives you everywhere, her hand steady on the wheel, ensuring you don’t lift a finger to worry about a single thing.

Caitlyn who insists on carrying your purse if she isn’t already toting her own. And her bag? It’s spacious enough for both your essentials and hers.

After paying for yet another round of shopping, she stops you. “I’ve told you not to do that,” she murmurs, gesturing at your fingers, taking your shirt to clean the smudges on your lenses. Her fingers gently push your wrist down as she guides you outside, the weight of her hand steady on your back. On a nearby bench, she places the shopping bags and carefully cleans your glasses with a cloth she always carries, her gaze meeting yours with a mix of sternness and affection. “I’ll buy you all the glasses you want, but you need to take care of them,” she says, the seriousness in her voice softening the moment her lips curl into a faint smile.

Her perceptiveness is unmatched. She notices the subtle shift in your posture before you speak. “What is it?” she asks, her eyes flicking from the road to your face, encouraging you to open up. You ramble about work stress, people not pulling their weight, and your longing to spend more time with her. Every now and then, she interjects with an advice or an opinion. When you pause, her hand tightens on your thigh, and she leans closer. “I love you,” she whispers, sealing her words with a kiss.

Caitlyn who loves date nights. She listens attentively as you recount your day, her hand resting securely on your thigh when the car comes to a stop at a red light on your way to a fancy restaurant. Sometimes she brushes your hair from your face, her touch tender, or holds your hand across the table while you wait for your food to arrive. She doesn’t quite understand Instagram or your obsession with aesthetic pictures, but she loves watching you light up while arranging the perfect shot of your meal.

Caitlyn, who texts you without fail. Good morning and good night messages, check-ins about your meals, and reminders to stay hydrated. She sends you small affirmations of her love throughout the day, peppered with bits of her own routine—a rare vulnerability she reserves only for you. She watches every TikTok video you send, even if she doesn’t quite grasp the humor or the drama behind them. She sends you cute memes in return, reels or something she knows will make you laugh.

Caitlyn, who adores your TikTok nights together, scrolling through videos with you, laughing until one of you falls asleep. She remembers the little things you mention—like trending items or snack—and surprises you with them later.

Caitlyn whose attentiveness extends to music too: she has a playlist of all your favorite songs and plays it even when you’re not with her. If an artist you love is performing nearby, she’s already bought front-row tickets for the two of you.

Caitlyn who shows up for everything you do. Whether it’s a hobby, or a sport, she’s your biggest cheerleader, funding anything you need to succeed. She picks you up from practice, drives you to competitions, and sits in the front row, clapping louder than anyone else. She even makes an effort to engage with your family. When she greets your parents, her handshake is firm, her tone polite but warm. “May I treat everyone to dinner?”

Caitlyn, who adores physical closeness. Her hand is a constant presence on your lower back or resting against your hip. She holds your hand whenever she can, letting you fiddle with her rings if it eases your anxiety. She kisses your knuckles, your forehead, your cheek. She lets you rest your head on her lap or her shoulder, her fingers idly stroking your hair. Caitlyn just loves having you near.

She was in the middle of one of her many tedious meetings when her phone buzzed on the table. At first, she ignored it, assuming it could wait. But the persistent vibration made her glance down, panic creeping in at the thought that you might need her. She unlocked her phone, opening your chat—and froze, her lips twitching into a smirk.

Caitlyn, who insists on buying matching everything, especially lingerie. It’s not just about the aesthetic; she loves how it highlights your skin, the way it teases her with just enough touch but not quite. She takes care to pick colors and fabrics that complement you, from silk pajamas to delicate lace, always luxurious and soft. You light up when you arrive at her house, eager to show her what she’s picked out this time. She adores the little runway shows you put on just for her. But nothing compares to the sight of you stepping out of her bathroom, wrapped in the sheerest fabric. The way it clings to your body makes her breath catch. You straddle her lap, your skin warm against hers, and she can’t resist trailing her hands over the material, brushing it aside to kiss every inch of you.

There you were, still tangled in the bed she left you in that morning. The pajamas she had just bought hugged your figure perfectly, the thin fabric barely concealing the lingerie beneath. The second photo stole her breath—a shot of your chest, your nipples visible through the soft material, and your hips peeking out from beneath the hem.

She cleared her throat and excused herself, her colleagues giving her puzzled glances as she walked out. The moment she was alone, she called you, her voice low and steady. “Take it off,” She could already hear the smile in your voice as you replied, knowing exactly what you were doing to her. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

You had spent the evening out with some of Caitlyn’s friends, sitting at a table surrounded by conversations and food thar were far too upscaled for you. Before you’d even glanced at the menu, Caitlyn had ordered for you. She had talked for you, too. She’s always quick to tell you how proud she is to have you by her side, but moments like these leave you feeling the opposite. It was as if, in public, you became part of her curated image—someone to admire but not to hear.

Caitlyn who's accidentally- or so she claims- condescending. But only gets worse during sex.

This time, though, you weren’t going to let her narrate your life as if you weren’t capable of speaking for yourself. So, when one of her friends asked a question, you answered on your own, cutting off Caitlyn mid-sentence.

Caitlyn wasn’t one to lose control of a situation, she was testing just how far you were willing to go.

Which turned into your naked body sitting over one of her heels, rubbing your clit against the edge of it while she held your hair. Your mouth wide open for her to spit on it. "You're going to handle it yourself, since you're clearly the only one who knows what's best for you." Her tone dripped with mockery as she tightened her grip. “I wouldn’t want to risk doing anything else that might upset you,” her voice laced with mocking sweetness.

[erodasfishtacos]

Conflict of Interests (roommatesbf!h)

prompt: yn knows that she has a bit of a crush on her roommate/friend's bf but until an opportunity is put in her lap, she tries her best to resist.

word count: 9k

warnings: not necessarily infidelity yet but there's some shady business, mff, fxf

author's note:

There is 3 more parts to this up on patreon.

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days.

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2-3 one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here!

++ YN was pretty open, easy to say ‘yes’, and take risk but she wasn’t careless.

She weighed the reward versus the consequence, trying to make as much of an informed decision as she can before jumping in the metaphorical deep-end.

However, she had absolutely miscalculated and found herself reaping the consequences of her actions.

A ruined friendship, an empty second bedroom because said friend had moved out, and a few of their friends who were taking sides.

They weren’t on hers.

YN should have said ‘no’, at the time she knew she shouldn’t have, it would lead to nothing good because of how YN actually felt about Harry.

+

YN and Kay had been friends for years, meeting in senior year of high school when Kay had to transfer schools because of her father getting a job change.

They hit it off right away, deciding to room in college together, and now they had moved from a tiny dorm to more of a spacious apartment.

Kay and YN have lived together for three years at this point, they rarely had any issues, an occasional stolen yogurt or leaving laundry in the washer but nothing that shook the foundation of their friendship.

Until Harry walks into their lives.

Well quite literally walks into her bedroom while she’s getting dressed.

YN was going out to dinner with her family, her brother was in town and they were meeting at an Italian restaurant a few blocks down.

It was a fancier restaurant which meant that YN was buzzing around her room and connecting bathroom, hair and makeup done except for lipstick and hairspray.

YN had her high-waisted trousers already buttoned snugly against her hips but was trying to find a shirt that worked well with the dressy bottoms.

YN had a strapless bra on but the shirt she finds that she wants to wear looks better without, she tosses the shirt on the bed, and unclasps her bra.

She had just tossed it to the side, to put away later when her door opened.

It doesn’t initially alarm her, Kay has a tendency to not knock or generally respect the idea of privacy so when YN turns to see what she wants.

However, it is not Kay.

It is a man.

A stupidly attractive man whose eyes become as wide as saucers, his big baseball mit of a hand smacks over his eyes to cover them, and starts rambling an apology.

“Who the fuck are you?” YN screeches as she reaches for the first thing she can find, her fleece throw as she holds it over her chest, heart pounding.

“M’so fucking sorry, I-“ The man’s voice is low, a deep drawl and a bit morbid as he keeps his eyes covered with a tattooed hand.

“What’s going on?” Kay appears in the doorway, a smirk tweaking at the corner of lips, “Harry, I told you the door on the left.”

“This is the door on the left,” Harry replies in a higher pitch, which was still ridiculously deep as he stands there, trying to stay as still as a statue.

“Oh shit, I meant my left,” Kay giggles as she moves to tug at his elbow which he very resistantly starts to let her move his face covering, “She’s decent now.”

Harry blinks a few time, his cheeks were twinged a bright pink akin to the tone of bubblegum as he meets YN’s eye sheepishly.

“I am so sorry,” Harry apologizes again, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, he was handsome - even if this sounded awful, completely out of Kay’s league.

It wasn’t that Kay wasn’t pretty, she was but Harry could have just walked out of some expensive cologne advert even in his jeans and black tee.

His tattoos were dark, no color to be found and it’s a contrast against his tanned skin like he had just been on a vacation with the golden tint.

“It’s okay. It’s completely Kay’s fault,” YN tries to crack a joke, easing the tension because though YN was actually quite proud of her body, she liked her breasts and didn’t mind who saw them - most of the time.

YN still managed to feel self-conscious about what Harry had thought because he looked like that and she felt a weird jolt of butterflies about it.

“But doesn’t she have the nicest pair of tits you’ve ever seen?” Kay nudges Harry, wrapping her hand around his massive bicep as best she can.

“Kay,” YN scolds as she holds the blanket closet, feeling super bare now.

“I’m just saying! I can’t help but stare when I see them,” Her friend shrugs, she had the tendency to be crude, crass, and frankly too much.

Harry has his bottom lip tucked between his two front teeth, eyes now not making contact with YN’s, “C’mon, Kay. Stop embarrassing her. It was an accident and I don’t want to objectify her.”

YN is oddly touched by his respectfulness, she felt like most guys would just openly agree with Kay which would have made her feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” YN replies, voice softer and the gaze she shares with Harry feels unusually intense before she’s clearing her throat, “Um, I need to put a shirt on.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Harry tugs Kay in the direction of the door with one more apologetic glance before he’s closing it behind him.

YN’s stomach does a weird flip, what the fuck.

7 months later +

Harry and Kay are dating.

Which YN is a bit, scratch that, a lot confused by because they just seem like the most unlikely match but not just looks-wise.

Harry is quiet, doesn’t really talk unless he’s asked a question or has something to add to the conversation but he does not speak just to speak.

He does subtle things that he thinks people do not notice and usually don’t (YN does)

The way he will close a cabinet right by YN’s head so she doesn’t accidentally bump into it as she cooks without saying anything.

If he knows YN has a late day at work, he turn on a lamp in the entryway so she doesn’t have to stumble around in the dark and she knows it’s him because Kay wouldn’t be that thoughtful.

Plus she caught him once, he had awkwardly shrugged and said that he didn’t want her tripping and getting hurt before disappearing back down the hall to Kay’s room.

YN has a smile for quite a few minutes after that.

+_+

Kay and Harry are not affectionate which is interesting.

Kay was handsy, typically clinging onto her boyfriend at any time, and their group of friends groaning about the obnoxious amount of PDA.

Not them.

Harry did small gestures here or there like squeeze her shoulder or put his hand on her back, rarely throw an arm over her shoulder at a restaurant or bar.

YN also didn’t hear them from the bedroom.

Kay didn’t have a volume control button, it didn’t take detective-like skills to tell when she was being intimate with someone because of the noise.

It made YN’s skin crawl because it was obvious that they were over-exaggerated, high-pitched moans that made her roll her eyes and couldn’t believe the guys she brought home believed they were real.

But no, YN heard nothing ever.

And Harry was constantly over, Kay had told YN that Harry’s housemate was a nightmare which had him trying to get out of the house as soon as possible.

Harry was just…perfect.

YN knows she shouldn’t been thinking that but he is the closest thing to perfection that she has ever seen or met without a doubt.

On top of his thoughtfulness, he listened and was actually paying attention, no phone in his face, no half ass agreements.

Meanwhile, YN witnesses Kay constantly on her phone while Harry was trying to have a conversation with her - nodding and say “mhm” without looking up.

YN could see the frustration that he’s trying to taper down but that’s when she’ll jump in to let him know that she was paying attention.

The dimples that appear in his cheeks are all the reward that she needs to know that she’s doing that right thing.

Her heart aches a bit because of the crush she wants to have on such an off-limits person, so she’ll push it into the back, the darkest crevice in her mind.

Harry would most likely be mortified to know the shit thay YN thought while he was just trying to be friendly.

It was just that she couldn’t get a ready in them as a couple and that was driving her a bit insane.

Well YN was actually questioning whether she was crazy because she had moment where she thought that Harry was actually going out of his way to do things for her than his own girlfriend.

Then the bathroom incident happens.

YN really, truly didn’t know that Harry was here.

She heard the shower running and assumed that it was Kay in there.

YN and Kay didn’t have much off-limits, it wasn’t out of the norm for her to pop into the bathroom to brush her teeth or pee when Kay was in there or vice versa.

So YN doesn’t think much of opening the bathroom door to grab her hairbrush she had left in there but only she was not met with what she expected.

It was a standing shower, with a glass door which meant there was no privacy for the person if someone came in and holy shit.

Harry was under the stream with his head tilted down, he was running a washcloth over his stomach and holy fuck, she didn’t realize how built he was.

She hadn’t seen him shirtless before, yes, she could gather that he was in shape by the way his biceps flexed or how defined his thighs were when he wore shorts but this was unreal.

YN’s eyes find the harsh vee that is tattooed with laurels, that is leading downwards towards…

“I’m sorry!” YN squeaks out, halfway into the bathroom and her hand extended towards her brush but her muscles lock and she’s frozen for a good half minute, “Oh my god, shit!”

Harry turns at the sound, confusion momentarily crossing his face but he doesn’t seem bothered, does nothing to try to cover himself.

YN was repeating over and over to herself to not look there but she couldn’t ignore that’s where her eyes went first, wanting to continue because he was thick, heavy, and he wasn’t even hard.

YN turns to leave but doesn’t realize that she has stepped on Harry’s discarded clothes which means her foot slips out from under her.

She attempts to steady herself by grabbing the countertop but it is just out of reach as a yelp exits her mouth, falling into a lump of limbs.

Her lip is throbbing because her teeth sliced through the thin skin when she accidentally bit down, her fingertips coming to press against where the blood begins to dribble.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses as he watches all of this go down in the span of a minute flat, he’s reaching to turn off the faucet before he’s stepping out.

YN cannot fully appreciate Harry in his dripping wet, tanned skin, naked glory because her eyes are foggy with fat tears of embarassment and pain.

Harry grabs his towel, wrapping it haphazardly around his waist, threatening to slip off at any minute when he kneels down.

“Darling, what on earth?” Harry rasps, his eyes tracing her over, his hand coming to cup the side of her face as he holds her still.

He picks up his discarded shirt, pressing the soft cotton to her lip with pressure to stop the bleeding, his voice was comforting and entirely sweet enough to give her a toothache.

“You’re okay, s’okay. Calm down f’me,” Harry coos softly, stroking her hair as the other keeps the shirt against her lip, “I know, I know.”

Just the small little reassurances were digging YN into a deep, treacherous dark hole because she’d never had a boyfriend who would baby her as much as he was doing.

And that’s when YN realizes it, Harry has been babying her the entire time he’s been with Kay, and he just doesn’t do the same for her.

YN was too frazzled to delve any deeper into that right now.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was Kay in the shower. I am so so sorry-“ YN is trying to tell him through choked sobs, unable to blink the tears away fast enough.

“Stop apologizing, dove. You didn’t know, the tears are killing me though. I haven’t seen you cry before and it’s just as heartbreaking as I would imagine,” Harry frowns, he was still dripping and it was dampening YN’s clothes.

“My lip hurts,” YN huffs out with a edge of a whine, god, it was so easy for her to fall into this baby role with him and let him take care of her, “And I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Harry asks as he dabs at her lip, checking to see how steady the flow of blood is before pressing it back.

“I just barged in on you showering and then ate shit, I’ve never had a worse moment of embarrassment,” YN informs him, her face felt hot and she had to stop herself from looking towards the split in his towel.

Jesus Christ, this was her friend's boyfriend and she was swooning like a girl with her first crush in elementary school - she needed to pull herself together.

“S’just me,” Harry murmurs softly, taking the shirt away and watching her mouth for a moment before sitting back, “Nothing to be embarassed by.”

YN and Harry make eye contact which makes her stomach flip in a way that it shouldn’t because he’s off limits but he’s nice and beautiful and naked.

YN swallows harshly as she fails to find a reply.

Harry takes his hand away which she misses as soon as it’s gone, standing up before reaching down to pull her up as well.

“Let me dry off, go change, and I’ll make us dinner, yeah?” Harry says as he brushes a strand of stray hair off of her forehead.

“Yeah,” YN agrees dumbly, hands still shaking and her heart felt like it had just run a marathon with how fast her blood was pumping through it.

“Will you be okay for a minute?” Harry is still checking, he’s a worrier and that much is obvious through his words and facial expression.

YN chuckles out a light snort, not her most attractive moment, “Or what, can I hold your hand and wait while you change?”

It was absolutely and completely meant to be a joke, a sarcastic quip because of course she was okay enough to walk to her bedroom.

Harry doesn’t smile, not really, his voice ever steady and morbid as he replies, “I don’t mind. S’nothing you haven’t seen before now. If it makes you feel better.”

YN throat tightens, the urge to flea was becoming stronger because he wasn’t being outwardly flirty, he was being kind but it still felt wrong - at least because YN was struggling to stay just friendly.

There was nothing in Harry’s words that were overtly sexual or persuasive, his demeanor didn’t give much of anything away either.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” YN manages to tell him before scurrying out of the bathroom as fast as humanly possible.

Even more guilt came when she was undressing, resisting the urge to touch herself to the mental image of Harry stepping out of the shower.

Where the deep vee had lead into trimmed hair that got a bit darker, thicker around the base of his -

“Stop,” YN scolds herself as she tugs on new underwear.

Harry had made it a point not to objectify her when he accidentally saw her chest but YN was better than no man as her mind kept going back to the sheer size and beauty of Harry’s cock.

Anyways.

YN was a shit friend right now.

End of story.

YN takes a little bit longer than necessary to exit her room, feeling like she was doing a walk of shame when she enters the kitchen.

Harry was already chopping up veggies, a pot of water that wasn’t boiling just yet on the stovetop, and it was all very domestic.

YN walks up behind him, itching to put a hand of his back, rub over the lithe, bulky muscles there but instead drums her fingers against the countertop.

“Do you need any help?” YN asks, her voice sounded relatively back to normal by now.

Harry glances over at her, his smile faltering slightly as he puts down the knife, and brings his thumb to her bottom lip again.

“You really did a number on yourself, dove,” Harry tells her, displeased as he traces over the puffy skin, eyes still studying her face.

YN’s heart rate spikes up like she didn’t just spend the last twenty minutes trying to regulate so that she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out.

It was impossible for her to decipher right now if Harry was just genuinely an affectionate, touchy person or whether he was flirting with her.

Not once has YN seen Harry touch her in the same way he was doing to her now - delicate, careful like she was made of the most breakable china he’d ever held.

There’s a jostle at the front door, a key turning into the lock, and YN jumps back out of his hold as he drops his hand, picking up the knife once again.

YN sits down at the kitchen table instead of trying to help, unlocking her phone, and trying to dissociate at whatever pops up on her timeline.

“What is this?” Kay laughs when she walks in, dropping her purse on one of the chairs as she smiles at YN before walking over and wrapping her arms around Harry from the back.

Harry…doesn’t stop cutting the vegetables but does tilt his head to the side look at her, she leans up to kiss his cheek before peeking over his shoulder, “Stir-fry?”

“With shrimp,” Harry tacks on as he turns back from her to focus on his work, his demeanor wasn’t necessarily drastically different but still…different.

Kay didn’t seem disgruntled by his attitude as she rubs his back for a few moments which YN tries to not get jeaous about because it’s not her place to be.

Then she’s plopping down in the chair beside YN, “Sorry, I forgot to text you and tell you I picked up an extra shift. Harry didn’t get the memo until he was already here.”

YN glares at her friend, “I know. I thought you were home, showering, and barged into the bathroom. Only to invade Harry’s privacy.”

Kay lets out a peel of laughter, eyes twinkling and completely unbothered, “It’s even now, right?”

“Huh?” YN asks, not sure what she meant as Harry turns around after adding the lo mein noodles to the boiling water, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

There was slight amusement at the tilt of his lips.

“He saw your tits. You saw his dick,” Kay shrugs with another hearty laugh, “You’ve got amazing tits. He’s got an insane dick so-“

“Kay,” Harry cuts in, a bit curt and disapproving, “It was all an accident. We don’t need to go into detail about what we all looked like naked.”

“Well you’re both hot and I’ve seen both of you naked, maybe I’m feeling a little inferior. I have a bombshell best friend and the hottest boyfriend. It makes me feel like chopped liver.”

Kay was looking for validation, specifically in Harry but he was not feeding into her behavior, “Kay, this really isn’t appropriate. Let’s drop it.”

It was not a suggestion.

However, that’s how Kay saw it.

“I’m just bragging, H. Chill out. Does it not inflate your ego if I talk about how big your dick is?” Kay was immature, admittedly and no better than a crude man on her best days - her thought patterns more perverse and blunt than most females.

“Kay,” Harry’s voice is sharp, a tone YN hasn’t hear before as he puts down the knife, “Let’s go to your room for a minute.”

YN sits awkwardly at the table, any butterflies from the interaction with Harry earlier we’re completely gone because of this.

YN could heard Harry’s voice raise, he wasn’t shouting but it was louder than his normal range of volume which lead her to believe they were fighting.

Kay was immature, Harry couldn’t train that out of her, and that’s why YN was surprised when she went for someone like Harry because she usually dated boys younger than her by a year or two - they matched maturities better.

YN stands up, walking over, and taking it upon herself to continue to chop the veggies while politely trying to ignore any of their conversation.

When they walk back out a few minutes later, Harry comes up beside her, just slightly bumping his hip against hers, and saying quietly, “Thanks, sucha good helper.”

It should sound patronizing but it doesn’t, Kay isn’t in here yet, and YN wonders if he would have said that in front of her.

Kay comes back a few minutes later, mood the same, and clearly trying to act like she didn’t just get chewed out by Harry as she makes small talk about work.

+_

YN struggles to sleep that night. 

Her stomach was rumbling because she didn’t indulge in too much of the stir-fry that he had cooked because of the tension between the couple.

Kay was making passive aggressive jabs in her ever cheery cadence while Harry gave her a very serious look, jaw twitching as he harshly chewed.

YN hid out in her room for the rest of the night.

Now it was biting her in the ass because she was starving.

As YN pads out, she has to go through the living, not thinking much when she flips the switch so that the floor lamp in the corner will illuminate some of the space.

There’s movement that makes her jump.

Harry was on the couch, YN had clearly woken him up as he stretched, trying to blink and adjust to the light as he takes in a deep inhale.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” YN turns off the lamp quickly, basking them in darkness again and muttering, “I can find the kitchen without the light.”

YN then proceeds to bump her thigh extremely hard into the side corner of their end table before she’s toppling over for the second time that day.

“Fuck, pet,” Harry curses, his voice sounded different, thick with sleep and a rasp that made it sound like he was a smoker, “What are you doing?”

Harry leans over, turning on the lamp, and squinting until he sees her on the floor, concern crossing his face as he pushes himself off the couch, and knelt beside her.

YN has tears prickling in her eyes, that really fucking hurt, she had already busted her lip today, and god, she looked like such a fucking idiot.

Harry’s voice goes soft again, like he’s just found an injured baby animal, “Oh darling, c’mon. These tears are too much. S’heartbreaking.”

“I just-“ YN hiccups, clutching her thigh that’s pulsing with her heartbeat, “I keep embarrassing myself in front of you and I don’t know why. Plus, my thigh hurts.”

Harry’s frown deepens, “You never need to be embarassed around me. Two times I’ve given your a surprise, s’on me, really. Let’s go put some ice on that.”

Harry helps YN up, guiding her to the kitchen and she yelps when she feels his big hands on her waist, placing her on the kitchen counter.

She was very aware that she was only wearing a big shirt with no pants on, a soft very tame pair of gray panties, and she flushed further.

Harry grabs a bag of frozen green beans, wrapping it in a hand towel, and taking it upon himself to nudge her shirt up her leg until he can place it in the injury.

“Why were you sleeping on the couch?” YN asks while she holds the bag in place, ignoring the ache.

Harry leans against the counter, opposite her, “Kay and I weren’t getting along. I decided to sleep on the couch so that we could have some space.”

“If this is about earlier, about the shower thing-“ YN begins to apologize.

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, sighing heavily as he runs his hand through his hair, “We’re going through a rough patch in general. We’re just trying to get through it. We’re different in a lot of ways, we butt heads a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you can make things work,” YN replies softly, free hand picking at the raggedy hem of her shirt.

“Yeah,” Harry bites the corner of his lip, “Why are you awake?”

YN blinks at him, sheepish as she admits, “I’m hungry. Dinner was tense and I wanted to give you guys space. I didn’t eat enough.”

Harry’s expression becomes one of disapproval, “Pet, s’not a reason not to eat. Let me make you somethin’ as an apology.”

YN shakes her head, “You don’t have to do that. I can get something myself.”

“Please? It will make me feel better,” Harry insists, standing back up straight and scratching at his stomach, his hair a bit haywire.

He was so fucking attractive it was sickening.

And this man was sweet to her, offering to cook her meals, and exceeding any of her previous boyfriends - they weren’t even dating.

YN couldn’t determine whether Harry was flirting or just being kind, he didn’t treat Kay like this which was the off thing.

The exact opposite, it actually seemed cold and distant most of the time towards her, his patience limited and his mood dropped.

“Do you like pancakes?” Harry asks, already moving to the fridge to pull out ingredients, “I have a special recipe from my gran that makes ‘em extra fluffy.”

“I have an awful sweet tooth,” YN hides her eyes with her hand for a moment, “I’ll never say no to pancakes, especially if you add chocolate chips. You better be careful, I might fall in love.”

YN freezes because that was definitely not the best thing she could have said, her eyes go wide and lips part in her own surprise.

“I better make them with chocolate chips then,” Harry says casually as he turns to open the cabinet like YN didn’t just nearly have a heart attack nor like she didn’t have to squeeze her thighs together.

YN watches his back as he cooks, the defined muscles flexing when he stirs the batter.

“More,” YN orders from her seat on the counter, swinging her feet.

It felt horribly romantic when he turned around, a mixing bowl in the crook of his arm.

“No more, s’not a dessert,” Harry chides as he reaches over to sprinkle a few more into the mixture like he was easy for her.

“Thank you,” YN hums with a smile, she wishes it wasn’t late because soft music in the background would be even better.

When Harry pours two onto the hot pan, he doesn’t turn around and he keeps his voice steady, “I wouldn’t guess Kay and you would be friends.”

YN shouldn’t but she does, “I wouldn’t guess you and Kay would date.”

Harry shakes his head with a chuckle, “We are not very similar, are we?”

“No, usually Kay dates people very much like herself,” YN tells him, fingertips dancing against the countertop.

“Which is?”

YN bites her lip, trying to say it in the most gentle way, “I love her but she…marches to the beat of her own drum, she doesn’t take things too seriously, and can be reckless. She has a history of dating guys who are younger, don’t have their life planned out.”

Harry turns to look at her after flipping the pancakes, his eyes were intent but he didn’t seem offended by the words she spoke.

They weren’t meant to be offensive, they were the facts.

“And what am I?” Harry raises his eyebrow, “A too serious, stuck up prick?”

“Precisely,” YN grins wide enough that it takes up her entire face.

Harry narrows his eyes before they’re darting down to the bowl of batter.

“Harry, no,” YN laughs, trying to keep it down because Kay was sleeping and she really should be in her own room right now.

“Mm, I think so,” Harry swipes his finger in the mix before stalking forward.

YN had nowhere to run because she was still sat on the kitchen counter but she fruitlessly tries to scramble backwards. 

Harry’s hand comes to her ankle, wrapping around to hold her as he leans forward and swipes it across her cheek as she kicks weakly at him.

“There we go,” Harry smirks as he moves back, not taking his hand away from her ankle, thumb pressing right under the bone.

YN and Harry both get quiet, chests moving quickly from the struggles, and she’s never felt this much sexual tension before in her life.

Harry’s other fingers press in, she finds herself wishing that they would move upward, it would be easy because she didn’t have anything beside underwear on her lower half.

When YN lets her limbs relax, her leg falls more into his grip, toes bumping at his hip, and his hand moves further to his calf.

They both seem to snap out of it at the same time, Harry is letting go and clearing his throat as YN pulls her leg back.

He turns back to the pancakes, sliding them off pan and onto an awaiting plate.

Harry takes a minute before he’s turning around again, eyes the slightest bit unsure, and YN doesn’t want there to be any awkwardness.

To dissolve the tension, she swipes her thumb along her cheek before popping it in her mouth, “Could use more cinnamon sugar.”

“S’plenty sweet,” Harry grunts as he hands it to her.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to but I haven’t had pancakes in forever,” YN doesn’t use her fork, picking it apart with her fingers and dipping it in the syrup.

Harry turns off the stove, placing the pan and mixing bowl in the sink, running some sudsy water in it as YN eats happily, her thigh no longer hurting - she thanks the chocolate chips for that.

“You’re starting to get sleepy again, huh?” Harry murmurs as YN hands him the empty plate, she nods in agreement, and she slips off the counter, tossing the frozen bag back in the freezer.

“Thank you,” YN mumbles, rubbing at her eye.

“Let me check your leg first,” Harry tells her, kneeling down in front of her, and holy shit, that was a sight for sore eyes to have him blinking up at her, “Yeah? Okay?”

“Okay,” YN’s mouth was dry like the sahara desert.

Harry lifts the hem of her shirt up to her hip, exposing her underwear a bit more than necessary but the thing is, she wanted him to see.

If Kay walked in right now, there would be no excuses, no justification that she would believe because of the heavy way they were both breathing and staring each other down.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses with a rasp, his fingertips pressing into her thigh, far enough from her injury that it doesn’t hurt.

YN thinks he’s referring to where she had bumped her leg but when she follows his gaze, it’s on her center where sure as shit there was a spot of her arousal.

Her eyes widen, embarrassed by his find, embarassed by how much she wants his mouth there - she’s never felt such a carnal craving like this before.

“I…” YN’s voice is breathy, high-pitched as she swallows down a whine of pure desire and deep, aching want.

She finds herself burying her fingers in his hair, it was partially to ground her, mostly to guide him towards where his eyes were set.

YN has never, repeat never, been so brazen in her life.

Her brain had shut off the part of her that had morals.

Harry is leaning in as she tugs at the roots of his hair, closer to her center where the want for him was tangible but he’s suddenly jolting back.

“We can’t. You know that, pet,” Harry sits back on his haunches, he scratches his jaw before pushing himself up off the floor.

He runs his hand through his hair, stress visible in his features as they tighten and the smile he gives YN was strained - his dimples didn’t pop.

“I’m sorry,” YN feels like a baby when her bottom lip starts to wobble, she should know better and it sucks how much she likes Harry.

“Don’t cry, s’my fault. Please don’t cry, darling,” Harry voice is hushed but soothing, he steps forward but YN takes a step back.

“I need to go back to my room, okay? We can act like none of this happened,” YN is a shit friend, but how would she even explain this to Kay?

YN doesn’t wait for a response, she’s turning on her heel, and booking it out of the kitchen - straight towards her bedroom to scream into her pillow.

++

YN tries to stay out of the house for a few days, going out with friends, taking an overtime shift at work, anything to avoid seeing Kay and Harry.

However, her luck runs out on day four when she’s comes home after her friend had to cancel plans due to a work thing and she had no choice but to head home.

Kay and Harry were on the couch, her feet were in his lap, and his hands were resting on her calves - there was no other cuddling and it looked rather platonic.

Neither of them look thrilled, but they at least give her a smile when she walks into the room.

While she’s in the kitchen, mixing ingredients for a salad together, she can hear their hushed voices, and it sounds tense once again.

Kay is speaking a bit louder, Harry has a bite in his tone that she has never heard but she couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about.

However, after another minute of their bickering, the front door shuts, and Kay is walking into the kitchen with an uneasy expression.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Kay starts as she sits on the countertop, her eyes only sporadically looking towards YN before darting away.

Oh shit, she knows.

She fucking knows.

YN is about to speak, to apologize, to grovel.

“This is really out of the blue. I don’t expect an answer from you right now or anything,” Kay is looking down at her hands, surprisingly vulnerable, “But I have a major favor.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” YN replies, putting down the mixing tongs and trying to regulate her irregular heartbeat from the spike in anxiety - this is where she gets caught, for what exactly, she doesn’t know but what happened a few nights ago in the kitchen wasn’t right.

“I…You’re bisexual, right?” Kay is visibly nervous, her fingers were trembling, and she was about to bite a hole through her upper lip, trapped between her teeth.

“Yes,” YN doesn’t know where this was going.

Kay knew this.

Kay had met girls YN had gone out with as well as guys.

“I…Fuck, just forget it,” Kay huffs out, acting like she’s about to slide off the counter to leave.

“You can tell me anything, come on,” YN reminds her, moving closer to rub her shoulder.

Kay looks at her hand on her shoulder, taking in a deep gulp before asking something that YN didn’t see coming from a million miles away.

“I want to try…being with a girl, you know? I just feel like there’s no spark sexually between Harry and I. I felt like there wasn’t one with a few of the last guys I dated too and I’m starting to think I’m the issue. Harry is gorgeous, sexy but I just…I don’t have a desire to jump in bed with him.”

That makes one of us, YN thinks.

“Kay…I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” YN pauses, she felt shaky now for a different reason.

“Will you…god, this is so fucking lame but I trust you. I want to hook up with you,” Kay blurts out finally, eyes wide and unsure, she was being vulnerable right now like she didn’t know how YN was going to respond.

YN swallows a gasp of surprise, of course it’s a surprise hearing that one of her best friends wants to sleep with her, to experiment.

“Is that what you and Harry were fighting about?” YN asks instead of giving her an answer, she needed more information before she said yes.

Kay was cute, attractive but wasn’t YN’s type.  It wouldn’t necessarily be a hardship to hook up with her but she can say that it has never crossed her mind that she would want that.

“Not really,” Kay shrugs mulishly, “We discussed it. He doesn’t think that it’s a good idea that it’s with you, you know? But I feel comfortable with you, I don’t want to go out and find a random girl to try it out with.”

YN flushes at the thought of her having this conversation with Harry, with Harry telling Kay that it wasn’t a good idea, “He wants you to go hook up with a random girl?”

“He supports whatever decision I make to try to figure myself out a bit more. He didn’t tell me I could or couldn’t do anything but he wants to be there,” Kay adds another bombshell, like this already wasn’t insane enough.

“What?” YN’s eyes were wide as saucers.

This had to be a prank.

This was not real life right now.

Kay laughs nervously, “I know it’s insane, okay? Harry and I aren’t the norm though. Not at this point, I don’t know what I want but I don’t want to break up with him. I’m being selfish and he for some reason or another loves me enough to see this through.”

The thought of Kay and Harry talking about love makes her stomach churn when she has no right to feel nauseous thinking about that.

“He suggested I find someone we could have a threesome with,” Kay was finally starting to make more consistent eye contact but YN doesn’t think she’s ever seen her this unsure of herself as she picks at her bottom lip.

“And he is okay with it being me?” YN clarifies, it’s not for the right reasons, she wants to know that Harry wants her just as much - it’s not right.

“Like I said, he thought it would be better if it was someone less close but I always really thought that you were attractive and…yeah,” Kay trails off before actually answering the question, “He said that if I ended up choosing you, that would be okay with him too. He didn’t care either way.”

YN feels like an asshole for feeling disheartened about it, that he wasn’t jumping on the chance to sleep with her without any strings attached, it made her feel a bit anger like he was leading her on but she was quite sure that she wasn’t imagining things.

“I’ll do it, yeah,” YN agrees with a wary smile, “Anything to help you out.”

“You’re the best,” Kay squeals, suddenly excited and all the nervousness that had seemed to have left her body as she jumps off the counter, and very unexpectedly steps into YN’s space, cupping her cheeks, and bringing her in for a kiss.

YN’s freezes for a moment, just taken aback by the action but Kay’s lips are soft, she doesn’t want to push her off and make her feel embarrassed, and it had been awhile since she had any intimacy so it wasn’t unwelcome.

Kay tasted like something sweet as she parts her lips, YN finds herself slipping her tongue into her mouth, and though the feeling isn’t nearly as fiery as it was when Harry just merely touched it, it still felt nice.

YN doesn’t know how long they stay like that, YN with her hips pushed back against the countertop, and Kay boxing her in, hands not wandering much, keeping one of the side of her neck, and the other on the curved space between her ribcage and hipbone.

Long enough that someone clears their throat and makes them jump apart.

Harry.

He was back, with a bag of groceries in his hand, and a downright scary expression on his face.

His eyebrows are knitted tightly together, a crease in the space that exists, his lip was twitching to hide the way he was grinding his molars together but the flex of his jaw gave away what his was doing as he loudly lets the bag spill onto the table.

It’s almost worse that he does not say anything or acknowledge it.

“I’m making eggplant parmigiana,” Is all the he says, without looking at either of them, and unloading this onto the countertop surface with a bit more force than necessary.

YN knew her lips were puffy, swollen from how into Kay had been.

It was…nice but YN wasn’t necessarily disappointed that they got interrupted either, she wasn’t dying to do anything further either.

Not like how she would have done just about anything to have a few more minutes with Harry that night.

YN questions whether any of this was true, whether Kay really did discuss it with Harry because by the way his shoulders were bunched up and his movements were sharp and almost agitated, it really didn’t seem like he was okay with sharing his girlfriend.

“I’m going to go out for a bit,” YN wasn’t planning on it but she really didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever conversation was about to happen.

“YN, no. You don’t have to,” Kay starts to assure her, glaring over at Harry like she wants him to change his attitude but he doesn’t look at either of them nor does he give any input as he starts to take items out of the bag.

“No, I had plans already,” She lies, quickly retreating from the kitchen and into her bedroom.

It’s no surprise when she hears their voices travel back towards her bedroom, they’re not yelling at each other but it’s definitely not a gentle, easygoing conversation if the way it echoes is anything to go by.

YN frantically texts a few friends, begging to see if anyone was willing to go to eat or get drinks because she wanted to try to be out of the house as late as possible tonight, hopefully not getting home until both of them were asleep.

++

YN is lucky enough that her friend, Mindy, invites her to tag along to a work outing that they were having to celebrate the startup company’s anniversary.

It was at a bar in the middle of the city where the drinks were comped and it was easy to let the liquor slip down her throat, again and again as she took advantage of the free alcohol to ease the mindfuck that had happened to her earlier.

Did Kay really suggest those things?

Did Kay really kiss her?

YN drank until those questions became a bit quieter and she became a lot more fuzzy.

++

YN was still happily buzzed when she was dropped off by the uber at her apartment building's doorstep, not drunk enough that she stumbled as she made her way in but not sober enough that she didn’t have to squint at the numbers on the elevator panel until they made sense.

YN was uncoordinated on a good day so any alcohol just made that amplified, it was a mission to try to riffle through her small clutch to find her housekeys - it was a tiny bag, where could they be?

She tries the doorhandle just to see if they had left it unlocked but they didn’t which makes her thump her head against the wood of the door as she blearly brings her clutch closer to her face to dig through, her lip gloss falling to the ground.

“Shit,” YN huffs as she leans down, hearing the click of the lock being turned and the door is opening.

YN stands up to see Harry at the door, a pissy expression on his face but he doesn’t look like he has been sleeping despite the late hour, it had to be past two in the morning by this point because she truly did lose track of time.

He doesn’t say anything but steps aside to let her in.

“You’re killin’ my buzz,” YN grumbles as she steps through the doorway, leaning down to attempt to unstrap her heels but then she actually does trip over her own feet like a baby deer learning how to walk on new legs.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Harry replies in the most morbid, monotone drawl - not one ounce of sincerity in his voice.

When she stumbles again, Harry grips her arm, “Enough. Sit down. I don’t need you getting injured for a third time for fucks sake.”

YN frowns, she doesn’t like how cold and distant he sounds but she does like the pressure of his hand on her body.

She easily obliges, sitting down on the entryway bench, and he kneels down in front of her.

YN’s heart rate spikes because it’s extremely reminiscent of that night.

“Kay kissed me,” YN blurts out, trying to keep her voice down, unsure of whether her friend was still awake but she highly doubted, she regrets the words as soon as they slip out, she didn’t mean to throw her friend under the bus but she didn’t want Harry to be mad at her.

Harry bites at the corner of his lip as he undoes the strap around the ankle of her right foot, slow and methodical, focused without looking up at her, “Did you want her to kiss you?”

YN is a bit taken aback by the sharpness of his tone.

When she doesn’t respond, he blinks up at her from under his lashes, his eyes were unfairly pretty under the yellowish light from the fluorescents of the lamp on the entryway table - green with nearly golden specks, flickering through and highlighted.

“Did you want her to kiss you?” Harry repeats, cold, distant, nothing like his norm.

YN doesn’t know how to reply.

Honesty is the best policy and the warm liquor that was running through her veins was helping the cause that would have normally been much harder for her to speak her mind. YN feels fat tears welling up in her eyes, the kind that sting, mixing her makeup into the saline that starts to make her blink furiously - using the heel of her palm to roughly swipe them away.

Harry slips off the first shoe, setting it neatly to the side before looking up at her again, waiting for the answer, “Tell me.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, it’s hard to maintain the intense eye contact that he was giving her as she shrugs, mulish and unsure, “It was unexpected.”

Harry seems to hesitate for a moment, “Did you enjoy kissing her?”

YN squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that Kay didn’t hear, hoping that he didn’t repeat this to Kay.

“It wasn’t bad,” YN skirts the question.

Harry puts his hand on her knee, gripping gently, “Talk to me. I know she threw a lot at you at once.”

“You don’t want me to be involved,” YN huffs, childishly enough like she was dealt an injustice.

Harry’s teeth grit like they did earlier, his fingertips pressing in slightly, “I never said that. I said it might not be the best idea because you two live together and are close. However, she clearly doesn’t take my advice, stemming from the fact that she calls you her ‘bisexual awakening’.”

YN raises her eyebrows at that, Kay hadn’t specifically said that, sure, she mentioned that she thought that YN was attractive but it had not been specifically mentioned that she had that much attraction towards her.

“What do you want?” YN’s nearly whispering now.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, it’s not about me,” Harry deflects, YN’s realizing that he’s really good at that.

“What did you think when you walked in and saw us?” 

“It’s not important. You agreed, right?” Harry clarifies, moving now to take off her other heel.

“I did,” YN swallows, blinking down at him, her heart felt like it was going to give out.

“You know why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Harry meets her gaze again, intense and unwavering.

“You just said because we’re close,” YN repeats what he had just said.

“There’s a much bigger reason it’s not a good idea and you know that,” Harry face is serious, terse as he slips the strap from the small golden buckle. “Say it,” YN replies, unsure where the bravery came from, maybe she was just tired of him being constantly vague and noncommitall, “Tell me why then. Spell it out.”

Harry’s eyes become stormier, he places the heel next to it’s pair before sitting up further, until he suddenly moves.

His hand coming up to cup her neck, just like Kay ahd done but it was with more intention, not the timidness or hesistaation that her friend had, this was pure confiddence as he uses his grip to pull her face closer to his.

YN’s lips instantly part in a surprise, quiet gasp, and instinctually she parts her legs to give him room to situate hiself in between her, to get closer.

His lips are just about to touch hers but then he stops, “This is why it isn’t a good idea.”

Then he’s pulling back, standing up, and stalking back down the hall away from her without another word.

What the fuck.

++++*_

Thoughts?🫣

[tojipie]

BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you

prison bf series linked here !

content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)

you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.

the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.

“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.

“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.

toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.

“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”

you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.

“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.

“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.

“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”

“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.

you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.

“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”

you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.

“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”

sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.

“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.

“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?

you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.

“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.

“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.

it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.

jesus. you just want to go to bed.

“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.

“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.

“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.

“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.

you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.

“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.

“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.

“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”

you pause, looking at the ground shyly.

“ok?” he asks.

you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.

“ok.”

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid {6}

Summary: It's Christmas Eve which means eating out and going home for secret Santa. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, oral WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Christmas Eve Your spacious penthouse seemed small when it was filled with the egos of a dozen formula one racers. Lewis, Charles and Pierre lounged on the sofa watching a basketball game on the tv. Carlos, Logan, Daniel and Lando were at the wet bar competing to make the best cocktail while Oscar judged them, and not just on the cocktails either. Fernando was using Esteban and George’s height to hang Christmas decorations around the apartment.

The rest of the drivers would have come but other commitments had kept them from joining you for the festive celebrations. You had a little present ready to be sent at midnight and you knew the video would only make them wish they could be with you even more.

Footsteps padded along the hall before your bedroom door opened and you caught Max’s eyes in the mirror as you applied a vibrant shade of lipstick. “You look beautiful.”

You rose from the vanity seat and turned slowly to show off the dress completely, blowing him a kiss when you faced him again. “Thank you, Maxy.”

He curled an arm around your waist, his hand meeting your skin where the backless dress left you bare, and he tugged you against him. “Ready for dinner? I’ve been told the appetiser is to die for.”

“That is high praise from a man who would be happy with a bag of Doritos. Will you tell me where we are going?”

He smirked as his hand drifted down over the material that covered your ass. “Just wait and see.”

The restaurant was unassuming with an unmarked door, and if it wasn’t for the seven sports cars lining the street you never would have known you had reached your destination. You never saw the kitchen, or the staff, as you followed Max and Lewis to the only door that had light spilling from it. You were beginning to doubt it was even a restaurant until you reached the room and found a large round table set with mouthwatering scents permeating the air.

“There’s a seat missing,” you pointed out as the men took their places.

“How could we forget you, darling?” Lewis chuckled as he held a hand out to you.

“We have one for you right here,” Charles said, swiping the middle of the table that rotated at his touch.

“Are you wearing anything under that pretty dress, ma chat?” Pierre asked as he toyed with his plump bottom lip.

Max’s hands ran down your thighs before dragging your dress up until it reached your hips, a collective sound of pleasure answering the question. Lando turned Max’s chair around and offered his hand to steady you as you stepped up and onto the table.

“Are the chefs aware this is a BYO first course?” you teased as you sat down and reclined back on your elbows.

“No,” Max chuckled as he took his seat and spread your legs. “But we have napkins for when you get too loud.”

Lando’s hand ran up your calf, drawing slow circles over your skin and Lewis placed your heel on his shoulder, kissing your ankle. At the opposite end of the table Pierre took your hand and tugged you flat on your back so you could reach his collar. Tugging his tie, you pulled him in for a kiss that inhaled the gasp that came when Max ran his tongue along your slit.

Hands caught the bodice of your dress and bared your breasts, deft fingers teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure from their worship and you didn’t know whose kiss, touch, lick or bite belonged to who as you writhed in ecstasy.

Your mind was already a dizzying mess when the room spun and gone was the ticklish beard that had burned your thighs when Max feasted between your legs. The new mouth that sealed around your clit was just as skilled as he sucked and licked you into a frenzy, but the cheeks that pressed to your inner thighs were smooth and gentle on the heated skin.

Your back arched as your muscles tightened and your legs tried to close before new hands spread them wide. “Fuck, George, don’t stop, please…”

Your needy whines grew louder until Nando grasped your jaw and opened your mouth to shove a napkin in. “Shhh, corazón,” he soothed as he stroked your cheek. “We’ll give you what you want, just not yet.”

The table turned and the orgasm that was within reach faded with a frustrated cry. Their taunting laughs only made your core clench as you squirmed as you impatiently waited to see who’s seat you would stop in front of next.

“Sounds like you need some help, sweetheart,” the young American drawled, his fingers running through your wet folds. 

“Typical All-American hero to the rescue,” Lando joked to your left.

“Please…” you begged through the napkin as you reached for Logan’s hair. His smirk disappeared between your legs and bliss returned with more stars dancing across your vision than there were on his flag.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure mounted and you were rewarded for your patience with a mindblowing orgasm. Still, he didn’t stop his ministrations as the waves rocked through you and hands pinned your hips down while they drove you to overstimulation.

The tower clock down the street chimed as midnight arrived and you grinned as you eyed the stack of presents under the tree. “Please, can I open just one?”

“If you open one, you have to open them all,” Max replied cryptically.

“I’m fine with that,” you hummed much to their amusement and he patted your hip with permission. You tested your steadiness as you climbed off his lap and found your legs had regained their strength. Your boys had really done a number on you in the restaurant, they were surprised you were even still awake.

Kneeling on the floor beside the tree you grabbed a very neatly wrapped box with a large silver bow in the centre. You gave it a shake and felt something move inside but there was no noise to indicate what it was. Turning it around you found no name on it and frowned. “Is this one for me?”

“They’re all for you,” Esteban said, sharing a smirk with Charles who then said, “You should be able to guess who they are from.”

“Aha, secret Santa,” you giggled before reaching for the biggest gift first. You tore the silver bow open and flipped the lid of the box before plucking the ruffled crepe paper away. “Oh, wow.”

The guys had gathered around and they chuckled at your reaction as you wrapped your hand around the shaft of the dildo. Your fingertip traced the delicate veins that your tongue knew intimately and you met the pair of dark eyes it belonged to.

“Thank you, Lewis.”

“You’re welcome, darling.”

“That was too easy, go for an average size, but no less important, present,” Daniel said with a grin.

Lewis laughed and reclined back comfortably. “I can’t help that my dick didn’t fit in the same box.”

You scanned the rest of the boxes and your jaw dropped in realisation. “How did you even think of this?”

“We thought you might miss us when we go away for training and testing after the holidays, or miss a part of us at least,” Daniel said with a smirk.

“I miss every part of you,” you assured them as you grabbed another box and tore into it. “But this will make the nights easier to bear until Bahrain.”

You pushed the shredded paper aside to see a fluorescent green cock, a laugh escaping as you picked it up. The head was wider than the shaft and your mouth watered at the memory of the many times you had tasted Lando.

“This is very bright,” you said to him as you stroked the phallus.

“So you don’t lose it,” he grinned proudly.

“Yours glow in the dark?” Carlos huffed as he took it from you and inspected it for himself. “I wish I thought of that.”

“You wish you read the instructions properly,” Lando teased before tipping his head to you. “Someone didn’t know you had to shave before sticking your dick in the mould.”

Max winced along with Oscar and Charles rubbed Carlos’ shoulder patronisingly until he shrugged it off and grumbled, “I still have a bald patch.”

“Would you like me to kiss it better?”

His warm brown eyes lit up at the offer and his hands instantly reached for his belt. “Do you know how long I have had a hard on for?”

“The same as the rest of us,” Oscar muttered as he took the replica of his teammate's dick and marvelled at how realistic it was.

“I can think of a few things to help with that,” you said as you waved a hand over the presents. “I mean, Santa’s already come, so why shouldn’t you?”

[sstrwbrryccke]

— sweetly spoiled | sub choi soobin

tags: rich reader x sugarbaby+broke soobin, financial dominance, gn reader, this was super fluffy until the end, porn with feelings, anal sex (can be interpreted as pegging), overstimulation, window sex, cum eating, hair pulling

not proofread 😭

you’re a hardworking rags to riches, new money type of billionaire. it started from taking over a failing business to investing into real estate and now a multibillion franchise. through sheer hardwork, will and a keen eye, you were one of the youngest billionaires in the world. you were rich beyond belief, rich but lonely. suffering from the many losses of your family members wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t as if you could make genuine friends in this industry.

meeting him was a total coincidence, you were picking up some late night snacks at a convenience store- just because you’re rich now doesn’t mean you forgot your roots, the convenience store was quick and cheap after all. there you spotted him, tall yet nervous at the cashier, fumbling in his pocket for money to pay for the ramen cup. money which he seems to not have, he sighed, about to return the item before you stepped in to buy it for him. financial dominance at its best, really. when you glanced his direction, met with his shocked face, the first thing you noticed was how seriously cute he was, a man that was 100% your type. wide bunny eyes with pretty pink lips, when he beamed a smile at your kind action, you felt your heart flutter. but that was all it was, a random encounter with a very pretty stranger. he thanked you and you waved him off, the two of you parting ways.

☆★☆

and to be honest, he didn’t come up on your mind that much after, you were a busy business person after all. hours of paperwork and meetings filled your mind as the weeks passed. but one day, your assistant called in sick, and you felt maybe that was your sign to take a rest for the day too. but left alone in your penthouse apartment seemed to only perpetuate how spacious your living space really was. even your personal butler had taken a vacation. so huge, alone, isolated and quiet. when the ticking of the clock was too much, you decided to take a walk to escape the mundanity of your solitude. but he caught your eye again, wearing plain clothing and crouched next to the door of a cafe? you approached him, curious. the sudden shade made him glance up, his eyes instantly lighting up in recognition.

“oh! it’s you!”

he seemed happy to see you, and you instinctively smiled along too.

“what are you doing here?”

he seemed sheepish at the question, craning his head and shaking his hair with an exasperated gasp. it was cute, he was cute.

“i just got fired from the cafe.”

it was such an unexpected and ridiculous answer, you heard yourself snicker. he was embarrassed, lips pouted.

“how?”

“i let a few stray cats and dogs in.”

you snicker again, he instantly shot up to defend himself. reminding you how tall he was.

“it was raining!”

the two of you end up talking, and you invite him to another cafe to chat. of course you paid for everything, you insisted. he was shy at first, very thankful and grateful for your hospitality. what an obedient and well-mannered boy. eventually, through more talking and prodding, he opened up. he was called soobin, and soobin’s adorable looks matched his personality. he was endearing in every way that word could mean. he ranted about his university and disastrous job history, and he really really had a penchant for being broke. seriously, how was it possible for someone to be this financially unfortunate? every time he tried to earn a living, something prevented him, like god’s divine will if you were religious. first job at a restaurant? broke 20 plates in one go. second job as a waiter? the restaurant got struck by lighting and went bankrupt. the list goes on.

when he finished, he was sheepish again at your shocked face, sipping on his mocha awkwardly. you pitied him, honestly, you could tell he was innocent to the qualms of the world, and you really wanted to take him under your wing…

except, what was stopping you?

“uh… sorry for ranting. i normally don’t talk this much.”

he meekly commented, suddenly all shy, back to a very introverted mumble. you just shook your head at him.

“i’m listening to you willingly, aren’t i?”

your tone was stern, he instinctively straightened his back as if preparing for you to reveal something big to him, maybe you were going to shoo him away? you took a moment to stare at him, observing his features. looking at him closer just made him so much more attractive, and you could listen to him talk for hours, even if he didn’t talk. just his presence had soothed you of all your troubles.

“soobin, do you want to be my sugar baby?”

he blinked at you. and you thought you would have to explain the concept to him until his face darkened a deep red, fingers fiddling together. maybe he wasn’t as innocent as you thought he was, maybe you should’ve expected it, but it only made your desire arouse more. there was a moment of silence as you let him contemplate the choice.

“so?”

you break his train of thoughts, and he jolts up, shoulders tightly bunched together as his wide bunny-like eyes lowers. he whispers something you couldn’t hear.

“……that.”

“use your voice, soobin.”

“does that mean we do that?”

slightly taken aback by his question, so that was what he was thinking. he was secretly a pervert, wasn’t he? you grin at him, leaning forward.

“someone’s getting his hopes up, isn’t he?”

to your surprise again, he nods obediently, and your grin widened. being alone wasn’t so bad after all.

☆★☆

it took him awhile to get used to the sugar-baby lifestyle. and for some reason, he was more endearing after becoming your sugar-baby. despite how broke he was, he really wasn’t the type to thirst for money. even being awful at receiving gifts sometimes. he had already been so thankful at you covering his living costs, so anything extra made him jittery and blush, profusely thanking you. not to mention, sex with soobin was beyond wonderful, he was just as obedient in bed as he was in his daily life. you found out later he gave his virginity to you, and that honestly made you turned on and ready for 10 more rounds.

you learned more about soobin’s hobbies too, and one thing you note is how much of a nerd he was. when you give him a very hefty and large allowance, he mostly uses the money for games, mangas and anime subscriptions. even though you insist many times that you give him enough money to buy all of that and way more. he seems to be more than satisfied with just those items.

gradually though, he really takes over your life with his presence, and it was only more apparent when he moved into your penthouse apartment. (even though you offered him a separate apartment, you learned he was a rather clingy person) you found yourself buying more shelves to display his manga collections, catching up to his favourite animes when you have time so you guys can watch together on movie night. he’s an introvert to the core, so he often prefers to stay in the penthouse rather than go out. not that you mind, it was nice to spend the night cuddling with him after long day at work, plus you dote on him extensively, if soobin wanted to stay in, you were going to let him stay in.

and you didn’t know life could get this happy until you entered to the smell of freshly baked goods, a smiling soobin poking his head out from the kitchen. god, who needs michelin star chefs when you have a cute bunny boy? and damn was it was the best cinnamon roll you’ve ever had in your entire existence.

eventually, your work finds out about soobin too, it first manifested in drifting rumors of a mysterious partner you had. then it became plain obvious when you straight-up brought soobin to your office one day. it was a bizzare sight, a man dressed in a hoodie sitting in a room full of men and women in suits. he mentioned he was curious about your work, and next thing he knew, he was in your limousine driving to the high skyrise building.

another time you brought him to those socialite parties, which was really just a fancy name for ‘rich people getting drunk asf’. he was so adorable, muttering to you about how nervous he was as you adjust his bowtie. he wore a grey asymmetrical suit jacket, you had it tailor made for him. you would hold him by the waist and kiss his worries away, reassuring him. and just as you thought, it went great. though soobin wasn’t talkative at all, just smiling beside you as you’re approached by another acquaintance. you two had fun though, you would snake your hand around his waist and whisper to him while gesturing to another rich nepo baby.

“and that one over there, that blonde hair? oh yeah, definitely a wig.”

“stop- that’s mean!”

but he was giggling with you, his eyes creasing into sweet crescent moons. the night passed smoothly, and the two of you retreat back to the penthouse apartment again. there you sat on the bed, freshly showered. soobin comes out from his shower as well, wrapped in a towel. he seemed embarrassed again, at how scantily dressed he was.

“stop hiding yourself, i’ve literally seen you naked soobin.”

“nope, who knows when you’re going to get horny and attack me.”

he shook his head teasingly, his wet hair tousling around. you raise an eyebrow, standing up to walk to him and he instantly starts laughing and apologising while backing away, knowing that once you take action you weren’t going to stop.

“hey i was joking!! i was jokin- AHHH!!”

you go for his hips where he was the most ticklish, and it didn’t take a lot of wrestling until he was under you, huffing and giggly. cheeks red, puffy eyes beautifully curved with his smile, his dimples in full show. touching your knee was something hard, as well, and you smirk at him.

“and i’m the horny one?”

with just the right amount of teasing and edging, you get him squirming and moaning, begging softly for you to touch him more. you haul him up, and he seems to wake up from his submissive daze when he realises you brought him right up to the massive windows of the penthouse. naked and exposed, leg spread embarrassingly far apart as you make him bend over- using the glass as support.

“w-what if people see.”

“let them.”

you whisper in his ear and he visibly shivers. you thumb at his lubed pink hole, dipping in and then dipping out, he becomes more and more desperate with each passing second. when it was clear you were going to keep playing with his rim, he softly whines, glancing behind him to look at you. bunny eyes wide and pleading.

“use your words soobin.”

“mmm… please.”

“continue.”

he gulps, nervous. he was so turned on he felt like he could come with any type of friction.

“spoil me please.”

oh, and you were going to spoil him alright. he was your pretty prince and you would genuinely buy him the earth if he wanted to. hurray to capitalism and this pretty boy. you kiss his nape as you insert a finger. he squirms and clenches his thighs, trying his hardest to hold it in because you hadn’t given him permission yet.

you insert another finger and begin to pump them in and out, purposefully hitting his prostate to push him over the edge. he comes without a warning and he sputters, his thighs trembling.

“s-sorry! sorry! i didnt mean to! im sorry!”

he begs profusely, legs still feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm. but you weren’t done with him just yet, he chokes down his words when you continue to finger his prostate, overstimulating him and making him squeal out in both pain and pleasure. he comes again, very close to the first one, and the white substance spurts onto the window.

“messy baby, you’re making so much trouble for the cleaners. bend down and clean that.”

he knew very well that you had cleaners who wouldn’t even blink an eye when wiping cum off the window. but he obeys as he always has. his weak legs was going to give up on him anyways, so he bent down kneeling on all fours, ass in the air as he awkwardly licked the salty cum off the window. doesn’t mean the work was over for you though, because you join him, aligning your length with his hole as you push into him. he moans loud at the sudden intrusion, arms giving up on him as he slips down on the floor, perking his ass up further.

“did i tell you to stop? keep going.”

he whines, trying to support himself but failing, so you give him a helping hand, your hand gripping the back of his hair and you pull his head back until he’s craning his neck. you swipe a finger at the remaining cum, bringing it to his mouth, feeding it to him, making him swallow.

the whole process was so arousing, it only took a few more thrusts until he was coming again. this time though, the overstimulation was too much and soon enough he was sobbing and crying. you chuckle, he was such a baby, but maybe it was your fault for spoiling him so much. you gently embrace him, thrusting into him softly until you orgasmed as well.

you pull out and coo at him. his body trembling and spasming. you use a wet towel to wipe down the both of you, until he refused you movement by hugging you tightly. it takes a moment to get back to bed, especially with an oversized koala clinging to you. but the two of you flop down, and you take the moment to caress his face. he was sleepy, but registered your soft touches with a satisfied smile.

“want to go shopping tomorrow?”

he hums, shuffling closer to you until his face was in the crook of your neck.

“mm i just want to stay in.”

you snicker. and you have never felt so much warmth in your heart.

[sleepynoons]

TIP TOE BY HYBS – higuruma hiromi (jjk) x afab!f!reader, post-canon!au, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~2,900 warnings – manga spoilers, brief sub!higuruma, oral (giving), body worship, marking, edging, cum eating, praise kink synopsis – it's been weeks since the last time you and your husband have spent quality time together, and now that it's christmas, the two of you can finally spend an intimate evening together.

HIROMI: Be there in 10 minutes.

Promptly, you head downstairs, making your final adjustments as you slip on a vintage gold watch and rub a spritz of perfume behind your ears. Your clutch, coat, and shoes are already at the front entrance, and as you finish adorning the accessories, you’re all set. 

You stand in the entryway, fiddling with your phone to send your final work updates for the night before setting it aside and concentrating all of your attention at the door, waiting.

The silence and idling are unfamiliar, you think. Usually, there’s never a moment of peace in your routine. In a typical day, you wake up at dawn to the sound of your husband already brushing his teeth and washing his face; afternoons are spent driving around, enduring the Tokyo traffic that is characterized by impatient businessmen and consecutive red lights, as you drop off sorcerers at their missions and make subsequent reports; by nightfall, you return home completely spent, but you still rush around, pitter-pattering about, so that you can quickly make dinner.

It's Christmas, though, so your day's been anything but routine.

There are five more minutes before Hiromi comes, yet they feel never ending. You can only chalk the feeling up to your restlessness, eagerness, to see your husband, who’s been away for a few days on a business trip. And even before this business trip, he was out every day from morning to midnight to tend to shorter missions. When the top brass said they would work him to the bone, they weren’t lying, and it’s been months since the two of you last had any time to yourselves.

The sound of wind, gravel crunching, a slow roll into a stop echo outside. Glancing at the mirror one last time, you shake your shoulders out and stare at the door handle. As soon as the knob twists and the door moves, you look up and beam as his face comes into view.

Though he’s clearly exhausted, there’s also a small smile adorning his face, and he steps forward to kiss you gently on the crown of your head.

You laugh, soft sighs under your breath. “You should’ve asked me to pick you up instead. It’s not good to drive when you’re already drained from fighting.”

He shakes his head. “It’s no problem. Thought you needed a breather, since you’re always in the car. Anyway, here.”

From behind his back, he pulls out a small bouquet, a bundle of red and fuchsia peonies wrapped in white tissue paper. Delighted, you take the flowers into your hands, being sure to handle them with care, and you let your eyes wander over every bulb and petal.

“These would look great in our bedroom,” you muse, already sliding off your heels to put the bouquet into a vase.

You’ll arrange them once you get back, you think, as you head up and down the stairs.

Soon enough, you and Hiromi are on your way to your favorite restaurant. It’s a spacious, quiet place, on the top floor of a hotel where diners have a picturesque view of the Tokyo skyline, and it serves the best wine you’ve ever had. In fact, the two of you come here whenever there’s a special occasion, and the waiter recognizes the two of you and immediately gestures towards a table near the windows.

As always, Hiromi’s the perfect gentleman. He pulls out your chair and helps you settle into the seat before sitting down himself. He extends his arm out on the table, so you can hold his hand in yours. He chooses one of the two desserts you’re debating between, so that you don’t really have to make a choice in the end.

But you can tell he’s a little distant, or rather, distracted. When you glance at him, his eyes aren’t on yours like normal. His grip is looser, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t breathing much.

“Hiromi?” you mutter.

“Yes, love?”

You tilt your head. “Are you here? With me?”

His stoic expression breaks into one that is more embarrassed, shy even. He runs his other hand through his hair, sighing at being caught.

“Sorry,” he chuckles.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, peering over the rim of your wineglass.

“Work. And how great you look, of course.”

You take a pleased sip. “You as well, handsome. But tell me, how was your mission?”

“Fine, as always.”

You roll your eyes. “Hiromi, that doesn’t mean much coming from you. You say ‘fine’ even when you’ve been told a colleague has died or when you’ve been hacking away at cursed spirits for days on end.”

“I suppose that’s the new norm for me. Though, not surprising to you, is it?”

You can’t help but huff unhappily. You’ve been an assistant manager to jujutsu sorcerers for years now, so you’re more than used to the inevitable fate that most of your colleagues succumb to. Arguably, you have it the worst because, sometimes, you’re the last face they ever see before they die on the frontlines. 

Sometimes, you disassociate from that realization. How haunting it must be, to die and share your last words with a mere acquaintance, to die without getting to see your most beloved one last time. Your job is to send sorcerers off to their death, only able to offer trite platitudes before you enforce the veil that separates them from the rest of humanity.

While you worry about Hiromi, you have no doubt he’s as much of a genius as Gojo Satoru when the latter was still alive. Truly, nothing can kill your husband. Besides, Hiromi’s no stranger to death, even before becoming a sorcerer himself.

You hum, barely bothered. “Not really. But it’s important that you take care of yourself, and I’m here to help, of course.”

The food comes, and you think it’s time to pivot. You clear your throat and say, “Now, if you’ll excuse my callousness, it’s Christmas, and I think my husband should have a full night off. Let’s eat!”

And like that, Hiromi nods and follows your instructions.

That’s the crux of your relationship. While Hiromi’s incredibly responsible and intelligent, he’s no different from any other person, and needs a shoulder to rest on at times. You’re witty, optimistic, and, most importantly, willing to provide him that support, so you’ve grown to trust and respect each other immensely. 

When your husband’s especially tired, like tonight, you steer the conversation, guiding, leading, redirecting. It’s all part of your ruse to get his mind off of miserable things, to distract him before his pondering thoughts and moral compass overtake his sensibilities once again.

As you’re eating, you inform Hiromi of Itadori Yuuji’s latest adventures and progress, as well as any updates you’ve heard about the higher-ups through the grapevine. You also tell him about the radish stew recipe you perfected the other day and the neighborhood cat that’s somehow been getting thicker. He also speaks of the missions he’s been sent on, the outcomes of criminal cases his juniors have been in charge of, the latest email he received from one of his law professors. 

The evening’s pleasant, and just as you’re taking your first bite of raspberry tart, you watch as Hiromi’s brows furrow, his eyes staring at the tufts of snow drifting down.

“No need to frown, my dear,” you comment.

He asks instead, “Are you cold?” 

You shake your head, but he insists on standing up and sliding his blazer off to drape over your shoulders. You thank him with a quick kiss on the back of his hand, but in your mind, you know your usual tricks don’t seem to be getting him. You internally sigh, knowing you won’t be able to discern the real reason for his listlessness until you get back home.

Luckily, upon arriving home, Hiromi visibly is more relaxed. His brows are no longer wrinkled with concern, and his jaw, though always defined, is not as set or tense. You lead him to the dining table, gesturing him to sit, as you pad over to the kitchen and fill up a kettle. As you wait for the water boil, you feel around in your cupboard for containers of lemon zest, ginger slices, and honey, in addition to your favorite set of teapot and teacups.

But Hiromi can never stay still for too long. When the kettle’s switch flips, he makes his way over to you and takes the handle before you can. He mutters something about the boiling water splashing onto your bare arms, and you can only giggle as he begins pouring on your behalf. It’s his consideration, his constant attentiveness towards your needs and surroundings, his protectiveness – just a few of his many admirable traits that you deeply appreciate, and there’s no better time than tonight to let him know.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom briefly, before coming back to find that everything’s already set on the dining table. You remain standing, however, sauntering over to your husband and resting your hands on his shoulders, dipping down to kiss the top of his head. Slowly, your hands slide down the plane of his chest, feeling the definition of his brawn and muscle underneath his shirt, fingertips stopping right before they hit the buckle of his pants, then treading back upwards. At the same time, you line kisses down to his shoulder, slight traces of your gloss and lipstick marking your path, before pulling away and leaning close to his ear.

“Hiromi,” you murmur, “what was on your mind during dinner?”

You press your palms a little more firmly against his body, applying pressure as you drag your hands back down. This time, you don’t lean back up, so your fingertips stay and fiddle with the leather band of his belt.

“Sorry, love,” he says. “I didn’t mean to be so aloof.”

You click your tongue, though there’s no ill-intention behind it. “That’s not what I asked, my dear.”

He chuckles. He knows nothing can get past you, yet he still tried. “Just you,” he mumbles.

“What about me?” You manage to undo his belt, so you stand up and walk around to kneel in front of him.

He sucks in a breath as your hands come to rest on the insides of his thighs. You spread his legs apart and, resting a cheek on one, you look up at him expectantly.

Hiromi scowls, his ears an adorable pink, and with shaking hands, he rakes one through his hair. The other comes down to rest on your face, where he rubs a thumb gently into your temple.

Finally, he answers. “Everything about you, love.”

Your heart flutters. “Tell me more,” you urge him.

He shakes his head, in disbelief at your insatiability. But it’s only fair, he supposes, after all this time apart. And so, he continues.

“You look gorgeous in red. Your blush, lipstick, dress… The dress is new, right?”

You nod, very pleased to know he noticed.

Quite uncharacteristic of him, Hiromi trips over his words. “It’s… very lovely on you.”

You trace a nail over the zipper of his pants. You’ve got him now. And so, you continue to press, musing, “What about it is lovely?”

Your husband knows what you’re up to, so he sucks in a breath through his teeth before letting himself go, throwing all embarrassment and caution to the wind – because, really, why should he be shy in the first place?

Hiromi admits, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, love. I haven’t seen it on you before, and there aren’t any sleeves…” He gestures vaguely around your bare shoulders and collarbones.

He’s so darling like this, you think, as you try to stamp out the laughs bubbling in the back of your throat.

“I appreciate your honesty,” you say. “I love it when you’re so good to me.” You look up at him, down at his zipper, back up again.

And that does it for him. You can see him swallow thickly, as well as the slight bump in his pants. His face is also completely flushed, and the kitchen lights reveal some sweat lining forehead. You can’t help but purse your lips, more than ready to give him some loving.

Biting the metal zipper of his pants, you pull it down as you undo the button and pull out his tucked shirts. He lifts his hips slightly to make it easier for you to roll down pants just enough so that you can see his boxers and the obvious bulge it barely covers. Using your teeth yet again, you peel down the band of his boxers, until his leaking cock is freed of all confines.

You resist the urge to drool and lick your lips. If you did, it would ruin all the lipstick you had used in the bathroom earlier. As a result, to keep your mouth busy, you begin kissing and biting everywhere, except for his cock. Hiromi’s lower belly, square hip bones, even his balls – you leave splotches of stubborn, messy rouge and bruising hickeys in your wake. From the corner of your eye, you can see your husband fisting and unclenching his hands, but you quickly put a stop to it when you reach over to redirect his hands to the back of your head.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, peering up at him with smudged, wet lips.

He bites at his lips, clearly holding back a moan. With a barely concealed groan, he nods and pleads with a shaky “yes.”

Immediately, you take the head of his cock into your mouth. Moaning around it, you suckle on it and lap at the generous amounts of pre-cum that coats it. The pre-cum’s a little bitter, but nothing you can’t handle, especially when you love the way your husband tastes in general.

Then, you begin to take more of his cock into your mouth, adding centimeter by centimeter of his length. The entire time, Hiromi’s holding the back of your head, neither shoving or tugging, but you need him to use you with a little force, want him to let go just a bit more. He can be quite stubborn, so you know you need to push him more.

You decide to assist with your hands. One hand clings onto his hips, while the other holds and plays with his balls. Occasionally, when you need to take a quick breath, you leave a trail of red from the base of his cock to the tip before swallowing him whole again. You can feel his legs shaking, shuddering, with every bob and suck of your throat, and from above, you can hear him take breath after shaky breath.

Finally, as you take him in your mouth completely one last time, you time everything perfectly. Your nails bite into the skin at his waist, your palm tightens slightly around his balls, your tongue grazes over that particular vein on his shaft, you glance up at him with pearly, teary eyes – it’s more than enough to throw him over, and his hands tighten and shove your head down.

He groans, “Cumming!” He holds your head down, causing you to gag and tighten your mouth around him, as he shoots rope after rope of cum down your throat. You can’t help but moan at the stronger, stickier taste, and you do what you can with your tongue to extend and help him through his high.

After a few seconds, Hiromi pulls you off of his cock, watching as you use a finger to scrape up the cum that’s dribbling down your chin and push it back into your mouth. He sighs at the sight of your seductive beauty and the masterful way you handle him. Just a few teasing remarks, slight gestures, a cunning smirk, and you have him losing his mind over a slow-paced blowjob.

He leans over, loops his arms underneath your shoulders, and lifts you up from your knees.

“They must be bruised,” he notes with concern.

You pat his cheek and settle down on his lap. “It’s worth it,” you say with a shrug.

Hiromi thinks you’re quite stubborn, too. He knows you won’t give in or say yes, so he takes it upon himself to take initiative.

He slides his hands underneath your dress and traces up your leg until he reaches the thin string of your underwear. You shiver at the fleeting touch of his fingertips, and he glides his palm over the top of your thigh until he’s close to the heat radiating from your core.

“You’ll let me enjoy myself more for a while longer, right?” he asks as he inches closer and closer to your core.

You can’t help but squeeze and press your thighs together, but to no avail as Hiromi slides his hand down your panties, his fingers nudging your legs apart.

But then, he stops. Right as he’s about to reach your aching bud, he retracts his hand.

You’re about to whine, complain under your breath, but he silences you immediately by rasping into your ear, “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

You wrap your arms his neck as he picks you up, hugging you tightly to his chest and sharing wet, desperate kisses with you as he takes the stairs, two or even three at a time, to your bedroom.

And as he places you on the edge of your shared bed, he tells you what’s exactly been on his mind throughout this whole evening.

With a smoldering gaze and a gravelly, deep voice, he says, “I can finally undress you, love. I promise I'll give you all of my attention.”

winter event masterlist

[zais-zafu]

★°• luxurious life ★°•

I am living a life of luxury rn. I am so grateful for all the luxury I own. my life keeps on getting more and more glamorous every day. I wanted to experience luxury, so that is why I am experiencing it right now cos I manifest whatever it is that I want. can you believe it? all of this luxury is all mine!! I am so happy!

I live in the most beautiful penthouse ever. I have the biggest, most spacious rooms ever around here. my home is designed with upmost care to match my expensive taste. the neighbourhood I live in is safe and luxurious too. this is my dream home. this is the home I always imagined living in and I am so happy to live here. I love how warm and secure I feel around here. I love waking up every day in my bed, walking around the rooms, and tending to my garden. I have put so much effort & money into this home because I deserve to live in my dream home.

I can buy whatever it is that I want cos I am rich rich, so that is why I am always out shopping. I wear the most luxurious, stylish, well made clothes ever. everyone says I'm super stylish, and they all love the timeless pieces I own. I eat at the best restaurants out there. trying out new restaurants and dishes is an expensive hoppy of mine. glad I could afford it cos I am so worthy of it! I buy myself the highest quality items all the time cos I value myself and how I spend my money.

I am always having fun with new creative ways to make me happy. I am always treating myself. I always buy myself the biggest & loveliest gifts ever. I take my time to plan the most elaborate celebrations for myself. I am always taking myself out on dates to the most exciting places ever. last year, I solo traveled around the world because I wanted to. I am always traveling cos solo traveling is one of my favourite hobbies these days.

I am always relaxed. I feel so fulfilled. I live a luxurious life so I make time for what I really care about. I am not about to waste my time, energy, or money on experiences I will never care for again. thank you God for this amazing life I get to live right now. I am so grateful for this amazing mind that easily manifested all of this money and luxury for me.

★°•

[queermatcha]

Tommy loves going out with his boyfriend. He loves when Evan thinks about his outfit for quite the long time, tries to look his best. A crisp shirt, tight-fitted jeans, a stylish jacket and of course, the perfect pair of shoes. His hair all gelled up, styled to perfection. He loves when Evan looks like he just came back from a modeling gig and Tommy feels a little proud when other people - men and women - turn around to ogle his hot boyfriend when they're on their way to a fancy restaurant. He loves being wined and dined, enjoying expensive food and wine with Evan.

But there's something Tommy loves even more. It's when he wakes up first in the morning. It happens rarely because Evan is a beautiful ray of sunshine, a tall, muscular ball of pure energy and most of the time, he's already up and out for a run when Tommy wakes up. But sometimes, he's still snoring softly when Tommy opens his eyes. And then, Tommy sneaks out of bed as quietly as possible. He prepares breakfast - coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, sometimes waffles. Always fruit salad, because Evan loves fruit salad. And then, when the house they had bought after being together for almost one and a half years is filled with the delicious smells of breakfast, Evan always shows up just in time. And he's the most beautiful person Tommy has ever laid eyes on.

Evan's hair is a gorgeous, disheveled, unruly mess of curls. There's a pillow print on his cheek and the only piece of clothing he's wearing is a pair of boxer briefs. Even though Evan still looks quite sleepy, his eyes are bright and they are shimmering with affection. Happiness.

The same happiness that floods Tommy's chest when his boyfriend steps right behind him, in their spacious kitchen, and wraps his arms around his waist. He hears Evan's voice, all soft. "Morning, my love." Warm lips brush against the nape of his neck.

And that's what Tommy loves most in the whole, wide world.

[moonlightseve]

Viktor lives his life lonely, sitting at the top of the pedestal and surrounded by the concept of greatness that behaves less like a reward and more like a barrier. He lives in the big bustling city in the spacious apartment — but he does it alone. Alone, alone, alone, a mantra of sorts he lives by. Viktor Nikiforov alone can land the quad flip, Viktor Nikiforov alone dominates men’s singles, Viktor Nikiforov is alone in life and without the love he so desperately wants.

And then, conversely: Yuuri, with the small town connections Viktor would kill for. With the big family and the childhood friends, with the college experience and the endearing smile. Sure, Viktor wins over and over again, but Yuuri’s family organizes watch parties just to see him lose.

Viktor who wants to be seen for who he is and loved accordingly, who moved to Hasetsu and started going to local restaurants to chat with the locals who don’t care about his medals.

And Yuuri, who has had all of that, but wants to be great. Who has refused to admit it out loud but has always wanted it secretly, desiring to be the best at something in a way no one could deny.

Both of them wants what the other has, a perfect complement.

[insomniac4000]

The Great YouTube Bake Off-ChrisMD

2864 Words

Chris Dixon was no stranger to challenges. From football tricks to wild challenges with his friends, he had tackled just about everything on his YouTube channel. But today, things were a little different. Today, Chris was venturing into a world he had only ventured into a few times and it wasn't his strong point, baking.

It had all started as a joke during one of their dates. Y/N and Chris had been together for seven months, she was a professional baker she had worked in kitchen restaurants before as a pastry chef but recently set up her own bakery and cake making business. While they were out y/n ordered a fantastic dessert but Chris was unimpressed with his complaining how hard was it to get a cheesecake right. Y/N scoffed at Chris's arrogance and thus was born the idea for a bake-off.

"How hard can it be?" Chris had confidently said while scrolling through pictures of extravagant cakes on Instagram. "I mean, it’s just mixing ingredients and throwing them in the oven, right?"

Y/N had raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sure, Chris. Whatever you say."

And that’s how they found themselves in the bright, spacious kitchen in a studio which had been used for Youtuber's cooking challenges, cameras set up and ready to film for Chris's second channel. The stakes were high bragging rights were on the line, and maybe a little something extra for the winner, as Chris had hinted at the possibility of the loser doing the winner's chores for a week. The kitchen counter was lined with ingredients, utensils, and an assortment of decorative toppings. Each of them had a cake recipe of their choice, and they would have two hours to complete their creations.

"You ready for this?" Chris asked, grinning as he adjusted the angle of the camera, making sure it captured both of them perfectly.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," Y/N replied with a twinkle in her eye, tying up her hair in a neat ponytail.

"May the best baker win!" Chris declared, striking a pose.

"Or the one who doesn’t burn the kitchen down," Y/N replied, causing Chris to laugh.

The judge was none other than long time friend of Chris, ArthurTV. Everyone was introduced on camera, y/n giving a small nervous smile. She hadn't appeared on the channel yet and she was grateful she was doing something she knew about so she could hopefully provide some content.

The clock started, and both contestants dove into their tasks. Chris, with his trusty iPad displaying a recipe began gathering his ingredients. He had chosen a classic chocolate cake—simple enough, but with a lot of room for error if one wasn’t careful.

Y/N, on the other hand, was as calm as ever now she was in the zone. She moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, expertly measuring out her ingredients without even glancing at the recipe. She had chosen a rainbow cake, one of her personal favourites, a common order in the shop and something she was well used to making.

As Chris cracked eggs into his mixing bowl, he glanced over at Y/N's workstation. She was working at a speed that was slightly unnerving, her hands moving in a blur as she sifted flour into a bowl. He suddenly felt a pang of doubt—maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. But Chris wasn’t one to back down. He turned his attention back to his own cake and began mixing the batter with more vigour than necessary. Unfortunately, this resulted in a small cloud of flour puffing out of the bowl and landing all over his shirt.

"Smooth," y/n commented, not even looking up from her batter.

Chris glanced down at the mess, then at his girlfriends pristine workspace. A mischievous idea formed in his mind. If he couldn’t beat her fair and square, maybe a little sabotage was in order.

"Whoops," Chris said loudly, deliberately knocking a small bag of flour off the counter. The bag burst open as it hit the floor, sending a plume of white powder everywhere. "Guess I’m just clumsy today."

Y/N paused, looking up from her cake. "Really, Chris? Sabotage this early?"

Chris grinned innocently, wiping flour from his shirt. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Y/N shook her head, laughing. "You do realize this just makes it more obvious that I’m going to win, right?"

"We’ll see about that," Chris said, turning back to his bowl. But as he resumed mixing, he couldn’t help but notice how easily the girl had brushed off his attempt to throw her off her game. If anything, she seemed even more focused.

As the bake-off continued, Chris began to realize that y/n was not only a natural in the kitchen, but she was also completely unflappable. She whisked, folded, and poured with a precision that made Chris feel like an amateur. But he wasn’t about to give up, if anything, her calm demeanor just made him more determined to win, by any means necessary.

He subtly tried to disrupt her progress, hoping to shake her confidence. First, he "accidentally" bumped into her while reaching for a measuring cup, causing her to spill a little bit of sugar on the counter. She just shot him an amused look and cleaned it up without missing a beat.

Then, Chris tried adjusting the oven temperature while she wasn’t looking, but Y/N caught him in the act. "Chris!" she scolded, a mock-serious expression on her face. "Are you trying to sabotage my cake?"

"Who, me?" Chris replied, feigning innocence. "I would never."

"You do realize this is all on camera, right?" She reminded him, pointing to the lens that had been capturing every moment.

Chris froze, momentarily forgetting about the cameras. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, right. Well, I guess I’m busted then."

Y/N shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "You’re hopeless." She then decided her own course of action and when Chris was seriously measuring out some more ingredients y/n saw her opportunity and swiped the cocoa powder quickly, placing it on a high shelf where she knew Chris wouldn't be able to reach properly by himself. It was a big joke that y/n was an inch or so taller than Chris, she didn't mind but of course his friends ripped him for it.

"Where..." Chris said out loud looking around his workbench, spotting a very sly smile on his girlfriend's face. "Have you seen my cocoa powder?" Chris asked walking over to his girlfriends bench, she shook her head but the smile on her face gave the whole thing away. Chris sighed and looked behind her, seeing the packaging on a shelf next to a colander, he sighed and had to nicely ask Arthur to fetch it for him.

"That was uncalled for," Chris mumbled, y/n giggled to herself as she continued to pour her mixture in to the many cake tins she was using.

Despite their antics, both parties managed to get their cake batter into the oven without any major disasters. As he closed the oven door, he turned to y/n and asked, "So, what kind of decorations are you going with?"

"Buttercream," y/n said, as she started mixing softened butter and powdered sugar together. "Simple, but delicious."

Chris nodded, making a mental note. He hadn’t thought much about frosting, but now that she mentioned it, he realized that it was probably just as important as the cake itself. He decided to go with chocolate ganache—a little fancy, but hopefully, it would impress Arthur, and his girlfriend who's opinion meant everything.

Arthur had agreed to be the impartial judge for the bake-off, though Chris knew there was a good chance Arthur might side with y/n if the cakes were too close to call. The two of them had become fast friends since Chris and y/n started dating, and Chris couldn’t help but wonder if Arthur was secretly rooting for her. Chris knew he could be a bit of a handful sometimes too and it could come across he had a bit of an ego but it was all in jest, if nothing else he always tried his best.

With their cakes baking, Chris and y/n began preparing their frostings. Chris’s ganache, despite his lack of experience, was coming together nicely. He had managed to avoid burning the chocolate and was now carefully stirring in the cream. He felt a surge of confidence—maybe he could actually pull this off.

Y/N, meanwhile, had already finished her buttercream and was now focusing on making some unicorn decorations to top the cake. She moved with such efficiency that Chris couldn’t help but be impressed, even as he plotted his next move.

As y/n stepped away to check on her cake in the oven, Chris saw his opportunity. He quickly grabbed a small spoonful of salt and mixed it into her buttercream, hoping it would be enough to throw off the taste without being too obvious. He barely managed to return to his own station before y/n came back.

"How’s your cake looking?" Chris asked, trying to sound casual.

"Perfect," y/n replied with a satisfied smile. "And yours?"

"Uh, still baking," Chris said, glancing nervously at the oven. He hoped his cake would turn out as well as hers seemed to be. If not, he might have to rely on his sabotages more than he’d planned.

After what felt like an eternity, the oven timer dinged, and they both pulled out their cakes. Chris’s cake was a little uneven, but nothing a bit of frosting couldn’t fix. Y/N's cakes, of course, looked flawless—golden brown and perfectly risen.

They let their cakes cool before moving on to the final stage: decorating. Chris spread his ganache over the cake, trying to make it as smooth as possible. Y/N, meanwhile tasted her buttercream and shot Chris a look before starting again. As soon as her new buttercream was finished she was piping intricate patterns onto her cake with her buttercream.

As they worked, Chris couldn’t resist one last attempt at sabotage. He "accidentally" knocked a small jar of sprinkles off the counter, sending them scattering across the floor. Y/n just sighed and shook her head, clearly used to his antics by now.

"Chris, you do realize that if you spent as much time focusing on your cake as you did on trying to mess with mine, you might actually have a chance," she said, her tone more teasing than anything else.

"Hey, I’m just trying to keep things interesting," Chris replied with a grin.

The timer was ticking down faster than Chris would have liked, he still had chocolate sprinkles to add on and was going to put some sliced strawberry's to add too. He looked at his strawberry's and his face fell when he saw they were squished, like someone had put their fist on them like the hulk.

"Right madam, you're going to pay for that!" Chris scolded, he walked over to the fridge and luckily there was still a handful of fruit in there.

With their cakes finally completed, Chris and y/n stepped back to admire their work. Chris’s chocolate cake, while a bit rough around the edges, looked pretty decent, especially with the shiny ganache covering its imperfections. Y/n's unicorn cake however, was a work of art, with delicate piping, a face painted on the side and a unicorn horn placed on top wrapped in gold.

"Not bad," Y/N admitted, giving Chris’s cake an appraising look. "You might actually have a shot."

"You think so?" Chris asked, trying to hide his surprise.

"No I'm just being polite, but let’s see what Arthur thinks."

Arthur arrived back in frame. He greeted them both with a grin, clearly excited to see what they had come up with.

"Alright, guys, let’s see what you’ve made," Arthur said, He walked over to Y/N's cake first, examining it closely. "Wow, this looks amazing, Y/N. Very professional, but I'm going to have to have a look in the middle." Y/N then cut a slice out revealing perfect layers in her cakes.

"That's actually really impressive." Chris uttered, he was truly proud of his girl, she was obviously talented.

Arthur then turned his attention to Chris’s cake. He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by how decent it looked. "Not bad, Chris. I was expecting something a bit more… chaotic."

Chris chuckled, scratching his head. "Yeah, well, I had to make sure I wasn’t completely embarrassed on my own channel."

Arthur nodded, clearly amused. "Alright, let’s give these a taste."

He started with Y/N's cake, cutting a small slice and taking a bite. His eyes widened as he chewed, clearly impressed. "This is really good," he said after swallowing. "The flavours are spot on, and the buttercream is perfect. Chris I don't know how you don't weigh twice as much being with her." Arthur joked.

"It's hard," the curly haired man replied.

Y/N beamed, and Chris felt a twinge of nerves. He watched as Arthur moved on to his cake, cutting a slice and taking a bite. There was a long pause as Arthur chewed, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" Chris asked, unable to take the suspense any longer.

Arthur finally swallowed and nodded. "You know, Chris, this is actually pretty good. The ganache is rich and smooth, and the cake is moist. I’m impressed."

"Let me have a bite," y/n asked and thanked Arthur when he gave her a fork, she took a bite of the confection, it was maybe a little too heavy on the sugar but overall the cake was moist, spongey, the chocolate was rich and the ganache was smooth, for an amateur Chris has done a thoroughly decent job. "I'm actually impressed!" Chris smiled at his girlfriends comments, although Arthur was the judge she was the one he was really trying to impress and knowing he had done that made his heart swell a little.

Arthur stepped back, holding up his hands in a gesture of finality. "Alright, guys, this is a tough one. Both cakes are really good, but I have to choose one winner." Chris and y/n exchanged glances, both trying to read Arthur’s expression.

Arthur took a deep breath and said, "The winner of this bake-off is… Y/N!!!"

Her face lit up with a smile as Chris groaned in defeat. "Of course she won," he muttered, though there was no real bitterness in his voice he knew it would make good content if he protested a little bit.

"Thanks, Arthur," Y/N said, giving Chris a playful nudge. "Guess I’ll be picking out your chores for the week."

Chris laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, you deserve it. But you have to admit, I gave you a run for your money."

"You definitely did," Y/N agreed, though there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "But next time, maybe try to sabotage a little less and bake a little more."

Arthur, still recording, chimed in, "And there you have it, folks. Y/N takes the win, but Chris put up a good fight. Make sure to like and subscribe if you want to see more challenges like this one!"

"But next time, it's going to be a free kick challenge and I’m going to crush you." Chris warned, y/n shook her head laughing.

"I’m looking forward to it."

"This is where she admits she is secretly the best free kick taker in the UK and has been playing for years," Arthur joked a little, y/n gave a smile to him and Chris which was so innocent it looked like a halo could appear above her head at any moment.

"I've got my eye on you," Chris winked pulling his girlfriend in for a side hug, her placing her hand on his chest with his around her waist.

As they started cleaning up the kitchen together, Chris couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction despite his loss. The challenge had been fun, and he’d learned a lot—mostly that he should never underestimate y/n. And who knew? Maybe baking would become a new hobby for him.

But for now, he had a week of chores to look forward to, courtesy of the best baker he knew. And as much as he hated losing, he had to admit that it was worth it.

[astralflower-writes]

you've got mail!!

☾ miya atsumu x female! reader

☾ genre: fluff

☾ warnings: none

☾ check out the haikyuu masterlist here

it's already 2am, and atsumu being him, he’s just lounging by the living room when he heard a ping from his phone.

it’s an e-mail from you.

my dearest volleyball champ,

today marks our 10th year together!! who would have thought that we'll be together this long huh?

i'm kidding!!

hey, do you remember the time when you used to purposely hit the volleyball to me during gym class? and how my best friend would scream at you?

and remember the time when we went on a school trip and we had to row the makeshift boat? yeah, you made us jump into the water because you said we should became one with the boat.

we've made a lot of memories together. i hope you still want to make more with me.

i also hope by this time we've already built our own home and talking about our future together.

i love you, tsumu. i really do. words aren't enough to tell you how much i love you.

now, watch the video attached just because you love me that much. ;)

he clicked on the video. your face was shown on the screen.

it was taken few years ago, both of you just graduated from high school.

you were self-recording. the graduation ceremony just ended.

you were running. running towards him. then in a second atsumu came into the frame, looking at you with the warmest smile spread across his face.

he then greeted you with a kiss on your forehead.

“congratulations to us, baby.” he said as he held you closer. “tsumu wait!” then you let out a giggle. you held out the camera so the both of you were seen better.

“before you say anything, this is for future projects.” you said as you faced the camera again. astumu just laughed at your antics.

“first of all, congratulations! we survived high school!” you said cheering and atsumu joining you. 

“okay, okay” you said leading him near the bleachers by the field. setting the camera down making it look like you two were being interviewed. holding out your to his face making it your ‘microphone’.

“now, mister miya atsumu. what are you’re plans after high school?” you said. him acting like he was deeply thinking. “you look like a dork, tsumu.”

“your handsome dork.” he replied. “to answer your question, i plan to pursue volleyball.”

“oh that’s nice, ba- WHAT!? YOU GOT ACCEPTED!?!!” he then went to give you the warmest hug and swung you around the field. the camera forgotten.

“and i’ll be your number one fan.” you said brightly. 

“what about you?” he said as he pulled you closer, both of you forgetting about the recording camera. “i actually got accepted to med school.” you said casually.

—

“hurry!! let’s open the door!” you said excitedly behind the camera. “you’re excited huh.” atsumu said with a smirk plastered on his face. the both of you were walking now on your shared apartment.

“it’s practically empty now, but we'll fill up this home in no time. right, baby?” atsumu looked at you after circling in the very spacious living room. “it’s perfect, love. we’re going to build this home together.” he then walked towards you taking the camera away from you and setting it by the box beside the both of you. he enveloped you in a warm hug. the camera forgotten again.

—

it was the day of your first day as a resident at the local hospital.

atsumu took you out since he said you've taken a hug step towards your dream. the video showed both of you eating and strolling the streets. you had perfectly captured atsumu walking infront of you looking for his brother's restaurant.

"god. i really love you tsumu."

—

now it looks like it's the last clip.

your face was shown in the frame. you were sitting on your shared bed back home. you were looking at something with a big smile on your face.

"hey remember the time you said we'd have a whole team of babies?" you asked while chuckling.

"well, it's going to happen soon." after you said, you showed your ultrasound.

"i get to see this little one today!" you said tears forming in your eyes. you then showed a video you filmed of the heart beart.

atsumu cannot describe his feeling of joy and contentment. he hurriedly made his way from the living room to the bedroom.

he made himself comfortable and hugged your belly.

“hey there” you said still half asleep.

burying his face on your shoulders “can i see our baby, y/n?”

turning to face him, you reached for the drawer of the bedside table and handed him a copy of the sonogram.

“i’m going to be a dad”

“I’M GOING TO BE DAD!” he happily shouted then proceeded to pamper you with kisses.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Sunset Bedroom (18+)

FastForward!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Just me wanting to make a smut in the Fast Forward setting, heh💙

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

Sex with Leo in your shared penthouse guest room💙

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Spelling, oral, female receiving, dirty talk, light choking, unprotected sex, Leo being a tease.

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

The future wasn’t as bad as one could fear it would be. It was much nicer and much brighter than you had imagined. But that could very well be because of the many windows in Cody’s penthouse. The food was good, if not a little strange, but you liked it nonetheless. The entertainment was also pretty good. Way different than what you were used to, but still good. But if there was one thing that stayed the same, no matter the time, being it the past, present or future, was Leonardo.

Your sweet terrapin boyfriend stayed the same, even after an accidental time travel into the future, and that was just the way you wanted it. Even after the sudden chance from sewer to penthouse, he stayed humble and caring. He still looked out for you in small ways, like placing a hand over the corner of the table when you were walking by, or always making sure there was a full glass of water by your side. He still cuddled you close at night and kissed you at every opportunity he got.

Even 99 years into the future, Leo still insisted on spending his planned time with you, just as much as he insisted on his training. The big difference being that Leo now had the opportunity to take you out, instead of planning dates in the lair, in your apartment or on your roof. But even in futuristic restaurants Leo would still hold your hand and keep his famous eye contact with you, while listening to you speaking.

But there was one thing that had changed between you and Leo; your sex life. Never before had you and Leo been able to get intimate so often, without interruptions. Though 2105 wasn’t without its dangers and villains, it was generally much more peaceful, which gave Leo and his brothers extra time to kill. And luckily for you, that meant getting fucked your brains out on a pretty much daily basis.

Tonight was no different. You and Leo had retreated into the big spacious bedroom Cody had given the two of you. Located on the western corner of the penthouse, with big open windows, you and Leo had one of the best sceneries in New York City. And of course the two of you have had sex several times with the city and the sunset as your background. There was just something about watching your face covered with the warm glow of the setting sun, as you begged Leo to make you cum with your sweet taste on his tongue, that made his mind spin ecstasy.

You were laying across the big soft Alaskan king sized bed, your hair cascading behind you on the mattress. Your pants and underwear had been discarded long ago, laying somewhere on the floor and out of your side. Your bra was on the edge of the bed, having been taken off by Leo the moment you got onto the soft sheets, and your shirt pushed up over your chest, revealing your breast to Leo and the air in the room. Your cheeks were flushed, your breathing was heavy and moans were escaping your lips. Thank God that a luxury penthouse in the future meant that the bedrooms were soundproof, because otherwise you would be getting in big trouble.

The sight between your legs was enough to make you roll your head back in pleasure. Leonardo, naked without any of his high tech gear or bandana, had his face buried between your thighs, with the tip of his skillful tongue rolling against your clit. Your legs hung over his shoulders so your calves were laying against his shell, with his strong arms wrapped around your thighs pulling them apart, giving him more space to devour your dripping core. His blue eyes held your gaze, making you shutter in excitement. All of this, bathed in the orange and yellow glow of the sunset, was an image you would never forget.

“Oh, fuck, Leo”, you moaned, your hands finding their way to the top of Leo’s head, pushing him further against you. He hummed against you, his hands gripping tighter onto your thighs, no doubt leaving a new pair of marks. His tongue started to do slow flat licks up your folds, running all the way from the bottom to the top, before giving your clit a flick with the tip, causing you to jolt underneath him. Leo chuckled against you before doing it one more time.

Leo took in the sight of you wiggling against his lips and the sounds escaping your beautiful plump lips, and started to grind his already dropped penis against the sheet underneath him, causing him to moan lightly against your center. The vibration shot through you, making your back to arch slightly.

“Please, Leo”, you continued, trying to push your hips closer to his face with the help of your legs on his shell. Leo however pulled back slightly, a small grin appearing in his face, as he watched you wriggle in frustration underneath him, without his tongue connected to your folds.

“Please what?”, he asked smugly, using his thumb to spread you open for him, enjoying the sight of your cunt glistering with a mixture of your own juices and his spit. It was a lovely sight, especially in the sunshine. It made it almost look like honey. You sighed in pleasure as he moved the thumb up towards your clit, pushing down you ever so slightly. Leo knew exactly what you wanted, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just like that. No, he wanted to work you up for it, have you beg for it. Have you beg for him. And you knew exactly that’s what he wanted. That had never changed and will never change, not that you were complaining. It was incredibly hot to be in this position under him.

“Please just fuck me, Leo!”, you cried out, your toes curling against his shell as he started to rub slow circles against you.

“You have to be more specific, sweetheart”, Leo said, his breath fanning over your wet opening. “How do you want me to fuck you? With my fingers? With my tongue? With my cock? Whatever you want, you just have to tell me, darling” He punctuated every option with a small flick of his thumb, making you jolt each and every time. God, you loved this man so much, but sometime you wished he would just fuck the life out of you.

“Your cock, Leo!”, you cried out once more, your hips chasing his thumb as he moved it around. “Please! Fuck me with your cock!”

Leo chuckled as he did one last circle over your clit, before sitting up with his erection showing off proudly with a slight bit of precum leaking out at the tip. “Your wish is my command”, he said, grabbing a hold of your legs to pull you closer across the bed. You yelped as he pulled you in one hard tuck, before giggling as he leaned down over you, feeling his penis just ghosting over your entrance. Leo’s lips found yours, his tongue quickly gaining access to the inside of your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself on Leo’s lips, lifting your hips in hopes of gaining some frictions against his rode. Leo’s right hand went to your hips, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. His left hand made quick work, catching both of your wrist and pinned them on top of your head.

“What happened to ‘your wish is my command’?”, you wailed frustrated, trying to push against his hand. Damn him being so fucking well trained, all though it looked good and proved amazing in bed.

Leo smiled. He really had no reason for doing it, other than to hear you wailing a little but. Nothing new there. He had always been a tease in bed, enjoying your whimpering and squirming. “I never said I would do it straight away”, he smiled, his lips finding their way to your jawline, slowly kissing their way up to your earlobe.

“Your fucking tease”, you breathed, tilting your head to the side, giving him space to work on.

“And you like it”, he murmured against your ear, smugness dripping from his every word, sending shivers down your spine.

He was right; you did like it. Scratch that, you loved it. He would build you up over and over again, until finally giving you that earth shattering orgasm you had been waiting for. Begging for, even.

But you couldn’t ignore the burning need building between your legs, as Leo continued his slow assault on your jaw and neck, feeling his cock touch you folds every once in a while, almost making you go mad.

“Please, Leo!”, you begged, struggling against his hand. “Please just do it! Fuck me, Leo!”

You could feel his breath against your skin as he huffed out a chuckle. “Have you been teased enough?”

“Yes!”, you exclaimed, your head nodding wildly in agreement.

“Really?”, Leo asked, letting go of your hip to take a hold of his aching cock, slowly sliding it through your folds, yet another idea popping into his head. “How badly do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

“So badly, Leo! Please!” Fuck this man and how easily he made you beg as if it was about your life.

“Good girl”, Leo praised you, before slowly pushing into your entrance. By reflex you curled your legs up around Leo, closing your eyes as you felt the stretch of him slowly filling you up. “Fuck”, Leo breathed into your ear, feeling his length being absorbed into you. “Always so tight”.

“Please move, Leo”, you whimpered, nudging him with your foot against his shell.

“As you wish”, he smiled, giving your cheek a kiss before he slowly started moving his hips against you. He pulled until he was almost out of you, before pushing back in. Both of you moaned at his movements, enjoying the pleasure it brought the both of you.

Leo’s thrusting started picking up, making you turn your face against your restrained arm, closing your eyes as you took in the pleasure he brought you.

“No”, Leo mumbled, using his free hand to turn your face towards him. His face contorted in focus, his gaze burning into yours and his mouth agape. “Look at me. I want to see you”. This always did something to you. It did not matter how many times Leo told you to look at him during sex, with him buried deep inside of you, it always did something to you. Made your stomach tighten and tingle in excitement, feeling the climax he had been building inside of you being brought closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful”, Leo mumbled, moving his hand from your face to your throat, holding you still as he stared into your eyes, his hips getting faster at the sound of your moans and whimpering. The way you said his name, begging him to bring you closer to the edge. At this point the sun had just dipped below the horizon, replacing the orange glow outside with the dark sky and the shining starts, the neon glow of the city casting colors throughout the dark room, lighting up you face, letting Leo see your reactions as he fucked you harder with every thurst.

Leo let go of your wrists, using his left arm to bring your leg up, so it rested against his arm, giving him space to curl his leg up and making it easier for him to thrust into you at a rapid speed. Your hands flew to him, on around his neck, the other holding on to the arm of the hand that was increasing its grip slightly, forcing your airway open and making your moans louder.

Leo groaned at the feeling of your tightening around him, pushing your leg up onto his shoulder, so he could use his arm to support himself.

“Leo! Baby! I’m close!”, you cried out, feeling that familiar feeling build up inside of you.

“Let it go, babe”, he groaned, tilting your head slightly forward so he could look directly at you. “Cum for me, (Y/N). Be a good girl and cum around my cock. Show me how good I’ve fucked you”.

That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. With a scream like moan you came, the leg over Leo’s shoulder tightening up and your nails digging into his skin, in a way that made him moan in pleasure. Yet Leo’s speed didn’t falter. He fucked you through your high, egging you on as he watched your face. He would never stop loving the sight of your face whenever you came. Your beautiful face contorted in pleasure - pleasure he had given you.

Once through your high, Leo pulled out of you, leaving you heaving for your breath on the big bed. But you weren’t done. You knew that. Leo had never stopped after drawing one orgasm, and he never would. So you weren’t surprised when he shoved you onto your side, pulling you close with one of your legs up against his plastron. He stared at you with a mischievous yet yearning look in his eyes, covered in the neon blue light from the city outside. You would be lying if you said the sight didn’t get your heart going like crazy, holding your breath in anticipation.

“That was one”, he said, tugging himself a few times before lining up against your still pulsating entrance. “Let’s see how many we can do before sunrise”.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Across the Ropes.. a Zilla Fatu x OC Fanfic.

Chapter 9: Clarity

Dedicated to @cheappop

June 25th, 2025. 3:24 PM

It had been about two weeks since Dahlia had moved out of Sabrina’s apartment. It had also been about two weeks since the last time Dahlia and Sabrina had spoken. Sabrina had kept telling Dahlia that something was up with Cora and Zilla, but for the first time, Dahlia didn’t want to believe anything her best friend said. She wanted to believe that her relationship with Zilla, was perfect.

It also didn’t help that Zilla had insisted Dahlia quit her job. He promised her that he could take care of her and their growing family on his salary. Dahlia had given in, trusting him, even if a small part of her still felt uneasy about leaving the only source of independence she’d had.

Now, all Dahlia did every day was wait for Zilla. She stayed in their beautiful home, alone in the spacious rooms, surrounded by things meant for their future. Occasionally, she’d get out of the house—go to a restaurant, stroll through Babies ‘R Us to buy more things for the triplets. But nothing really filled the void of Zilla’s absence. Even with all the things she’d accumulated for the babies, the excitement of shopping and preparing for their arrival couldn’t distract her from the silence that hung heavy in the house.

The babies had been growing steadily, but the only real company Dahlia had was the soft movements of her triplets. There were days when she’d sit on the couch and talk to them, imagining how their tiny faces would look, what they’d be like. But in the back of her mind, doubts lingered.

Was she really happy?

Dahlia hated to admit it, but some days, the isolation was suffocating. Her mind would wander to the conversations she’d had with Sabrina, the things she didn’t want to believe. Cora and the comment on his Instagram post—it all started to feel like more than just rumors. But she pushed those thoughts away, convincing herself that Sabrina was just jealous. Zilla was hers, and she wasn’t going to let anything come between them, not even doubts.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was already late afternoon. Zilla hadn’t messaged in a few hours, but that wasn’t unusual. He was always busy with work, but lately, those hours seemed to stretch on longer than ever before. Dahlia picked up her phone and checked for any new messages, but nothing. Not even a “miss you” or “hope your day’s going well.”

She sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen as she thought about reaching out to Sabrina. But what could she say? It had been too long since they’d spoken, and she couldn’t bring herself to open that door again. She didn’t want to hear more accusations, especially not when she still wanted to believe in Zilla, in the life they were building together.

Dahlia set the phone down and looked around the room again. The nursery had been set up—everything in its place. But it felt like something was missing. Her gaze drifted to the window, and for a moment, she imagined what life would be like once the triplets arrived. She tried to focus on the excitement, but it was hard when she didn’t even know if Zilla would be there in the way she needed him to be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Dahlia stood up quickly, walking to the window. Zilla’s truck was parked out front, but there was no sign of him getting out. He had brought himself a new truck for him and the kids, it was nothing fancy, but it was something for them to get by. She waited for a few seconds, but he didn’t move.

Something shifted in her chest.

Was she really just waiting for him to come home? Or was she waiting for the person she thought he could be? The man who promised her the world, the man who’d sworn he’d always be there. And if he wasn’t, would she be strong enough to stand on her own, even with the babies on the way?

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. She had to stop doubting him.

But as she walked toward the door to greet him, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something had changed.

Zilla finally got out of the truck, his footsteps heavy against the gravel. He grabbed his duffel bag and made his way toward the house. Dahlia stood by the door, offering him a warm smile, eager to see him after a long day. She greeted him with a kiss, feeling the familiar warmth of his lips on hers. “I missed you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of affection and longing.

“I missed you too,” Zilla responded, his tone a little distant, but his words were sincere.

Dahlia watched him closely, noticing the slight tension in his posture as he stepped into the house. “Do you want to eat something?” she asked, hopeful to bring some life back into the evening.

“No, I ate on the plane,” Zilla replied, his gaze already moving toward the stairs.

Dahlia nodded, though the rejection stung a little. She had been hoping for a chance to connect, but it seemed like Zilla wasn’t in the mood.

“Oh, okay,” she murmured, a small sigh escaping her lips.

She had been noticing it more lately—those silent moments between them. It wasn’t the comfortable silence they used to share, where words weren’t necessary because their connection spoke volumes. This was different. It felt like a wall was being built, brick by brick, between them.

Trying to fill the silence, Dahlia suggested, “Our master bedroom is complete if you want to look at it.”

Zilla hesitated for a moment, then nodded, though his expression remained distant. “Yeah, I’m gonna go up right now and take a nap.”

Dahlia bit her lip but nodded, trying to suppress the sinking feeling in her stomach. She grabbed his duffel bag from him, her fingers brushing against his, but it felt like there was no warmth left in the touch. As he walked up the stairs, she couldn’t help but watch him disappear into the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet house.

Once he was out of sight, Dahlia stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space he left behind. She wanted to feel the same closeness, the same comfort she once felt with him. But now, all she felt was a growing distance, a space between them that seemed to widen with every passing day.

Dahlia walked quietly to the laundry room, the sound of her footsteps almost too loud in the silence that had settled between them. She opened the duffel bag and emptied its contents into the washer, the familiar scent of his clothes filling the air. As she reached for the detergent, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had been lingering all day. She gently placed the empty duffel bag on the floor, its presence another reminder of the growing distance between them.

After a few moments of standing there, lost in thought, she made her way up the stairs to the master bedroom. When she stepped inside, she found Zilla already lying down on the bed, his eyes half-closed, clearly ready for a nap. Dahlia approached him slowly, a small, tentative smile on her lips. She leaned down and kissed him softly, hoping to bridge the gap that had been widening between them.

Zilla didn’t open his eyes, but he sighed as her lips pressed against his. “Babe, I really just want a nap right now,” he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

Dahlia’s heart sank at his words, but she didn’t let it show. She pulled back, her eyes searching his face. “I just wanna be near you,” she said softly, the sadness creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to keep it at bay.

Zilla’s eyes flickered open briefly, a tired smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I know, babe. But I’m just very tired. It’s constant work. I need to rest.”

Dahlia nodded slowly, though the weight of his words hung in the air. She didn’t say anything more. Instead, she stood there for a moment, looking at him as if she could somehow find the connection they used to have in his tired gaze. But all she saw was distance. She swallowed hard and turned away, her chest tight.

Without another word, she grabbed her phone off the charger, the small distraction offering little comfort. She went downstairs, the soft click of the door closing behind her the only sound breaking the silence.

Sitting down on the couch, Dahlia scrolled through her phone, her fingers moving mechanically over the screen. She wasn’t really reading anything; her mind was elsewhere, lost in the growing uncertainty about her relationship with Zilla. The sadness that had settled in her chest seemed impossible to shake.

She couldn’t help but wonder: Was this what her life was going to be now? Endless waiting, empty moments, and the feeling of being alone even when he was just upstairs?

Dahlia sat on the couch, the ticking clock on the wall echoing in her ears as the hours dragged on. She glanced down at her phone and saw the time—6:46 PM. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She pushed herself up from the couch, stretching her arms over her head, and made her way upstairs, hoping to find Zilla awake, perhaps in the mood for a quiet meal together.

She reached the master bedroom door again, peering inside. Zilla was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep. Biting her lip, Dahlia quietly approached the bed and gently nudged him awake.

“Hey,” she whispered softly, not wanting to startle him. “Sorry to wake you, but…”

He groaned loudly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. His gaze was distant, unfocused, and before she could finish her thought, he interrupted her with a harsh tone.

“Dahlia, I’m not hungry. Just go and eat. I’ll be fine. I’ll make something for myself later.” His words were blunt, more abrupt than usual, and they hit her like a punch to the gut.

Taken aback by his tone, Dahlia faltered, unsure of how to respond. She had only wanted to spend a few quiet moments with him. But his irritation hung heavy in the air, and it stung more than she expected.

“I thought maybe you’d like to eat with me,” she said softly, trying again, hoping he might soften.

Zilla let out a tired sigh, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed. “I’ve got two more days of rest, and then I’ve gotta go back to work. And Monday, we’re driving to that villa in New Braunfels, staying with my family for a whole week. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I just want some alone time,” he snapped, his frustration palpable.

Dahlia’s heart sank as she listened to him. She understood he was worn out from work and the pressure of everything that had been happening, but it still hurt to hear him speak so coldly.

“I want some time with you too,” she said quietly, the sadness in her voice creeping through. “But I can’t do this alone. I need you, Isayah.”

His expression hardened, and his voice grew sharper as he replied, “Please, just give me some alone time right now.”

Dahlia’s throat tightened. She wanted to argue, to make him see how much she needed him, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. He had already made up his mind. With a quick, sharp exhale, she stood up from the bed, her chest tight with emotion.

She walked toward the door, her heart pounding. Before she left, she slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the house like the final note of a painful song. The silence that followed felt suffocating, and Dahlia couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words settle heavily on her shoulders.

Dahlia walked downstairs, her mind still swirling with the tension of her argument with Zilla. She spotted her slides near the door and slipped them on, feeling the familiar softness of the soles as she grabbed the keys to the Camaro. Without a word, she walked out of the house, the door closing softly behind her.

The drive to McDonald’s was quiet, the engine’s hum filling the silence between her and the road. It was a familiar routine now—driving alone, the way things had been for the past few weeks. Every mile felt like an escape, but she knew it was temporary.

When she arrived at the fast-food restaurant, Dahlia got out of the Camaro and walked in. The cool air from the AC hit her, a welcome distraction from the heat she felt inside. She stood in line, the sound of chatter and the clatter of trays in the background as families and couples surrounded her. She barely registered their conversations, her mind still lingering on the harshness in Zilla’s voice.

When it was her turn, she ordered her usual—nothing extravagant, just a simple meal to fill the emptiness inside. The worker handed her the receipt, and Dahlia took it with a nod before heading to an empty table in the corner. She sat down, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her cup as she waited for her food.

It wasn’t long before a McDonald’s worker brought her order to the table: a tray with a burger, fries, and the chocolate milkshake she had gotten on a whim. The worker smiled briefly before walking away, and Dahlia turned her attention to the food, taking a small bite of the fries and sipping her milkshake.

She ate in peace, surrounded by families who were lost in their own worlds—laughing, chatting, or simply enjoying their meals. Dahlia envied their calmness, their ability to find joy in the little things. For her, everything felt strained. Even something as simple as eating alone felt like a reminder of how far away she had drifted from Zilla, from the life she thought they were building together.

As the minutes passed, the weight of her loneliness seemed to settle in her chest. She pushed the thought aside, focusing on her meal. It was easier to keep busy, to bury the feelings under the act of eating, of moving through the motions. But no matter how much she tried, the silence of the night always came back, echoing in her mind when she least expected it.

As Dahlia finished the last bite of her Quarter Pounder with Cheese, she couldn’t help but wonder. Had she done something wrong to push Zilla away? She had been trying so hard to make everything work, but the silence between them felt more deafening by the day. Maybe everything was moving too fast—maybe she was too needy, too dependent. She couldn’t shake the thought that something was off, but she couldn’t figure out what.

The chocolate shake was now finished, too, and she put the empty cup and wrappers onto the tray, standing up from her seat. She made her way over to the trash and dumped everything, wiping her hands before heading back out to the Camaro.

The drive back home felt slower somehow. Maybe it was the quiet or the weight of the thought she couldn’t shake. When she pulled into the driveway, she saw his truck parked beside her Camaro. It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. There was no sign of him inside, which only made the house feel emptier.

Dahlia walked inside, the stillness of the house swallowing her. The door to the master bedroom was still closed, confirming that he was still sleeping. She felt a pang of disappointment but tried to push it away. Maybe he needed his rest.

She made her way to the laundry room and started putting his clothes in the dryer, her hands mechanically working through the task. She tried to focus on the rhythm of it, anything to distract from the emptiness she felt. Once the clothes were set, she walked back to the living room, feeling the weight of the silence in every step.

There, she found comfort in the softness of the couch. She pulled a small blanket over herself, curling up with it as if it could shield her from the overwhelming sense of loneliness. She picked up the remote, turning on one of her comfort shows, Weeds, hoping that the familiar voices and scenes would ease her mind. It didn’t take long before she was tucked in, her eyes already heavy with exhaustion. But even as she settled, she knew sleep wouldn’t bring her the peace she was craving.

For now, though, she’d make do with this—quiet moments alone, buried in the small distractions that kept her from facing the harder truths of her situation.

—

Hours had passed, and Dahlia had drifted into a fitful slumber, the TV show still playing softly in the background. She was on the edge of sleep when she felt the warmth of a kiss press against her neck. Her body stirred, the familiar sensation pulling her from her dreams. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking into the dim light of the living room.

Another kiss—this time, more deliberate—brushed against her skin, and she flinched slightly.

“No,” she muttered softly, her voice thick with sleep and frustration.

Zilla’s voice followed, low and husky. “What’s wrong?”

Dahlia’s chest tightened as she turned her head toward him. She could see him there, his face inches away from hers, as if nothing had changed. But she felt everything shift within her. “I’m not gonna keep going through this,” she whispered, the words heavy with the weight of all the emotions that had been building up.

Zilla furrowed his brow, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

Dahlia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “You keep pushing me away every time you get home. And when you feel like it, you come to me like nothing’s wrong. I can’t keep doing this, Isayah. I can’t just pretend everything is fine when you make it so clear it’s not.”

She paused, the truth of her words sinking in. “I don’t even know where I stand with you anymore. It’s like I’m an afterthought until you need something.”

Zilla stared at her, silence stretching between them. The tension in the air felt suffocating, and Dahlia could feel her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have, but it was the one they needed. She needed him to understand that the distance between them was breaking her, piece by piece.

Zilla’s voice softened, and he took a step closer to her, his hand gently reaching for hers. “Baby,” he said, his tone pleading, “why can’t you just understand that I’m just tired? I’m working every day, grinding for us. I’m working so hard so that when you do have the babies, I can take off as much time as I want, without having to worry about the bills.”

Dahlia looked at him, her chest tight as she processed his words. She wanted to argue, to tell him how much she felt alone, how much she missed him. But something about his words hit her differently tonight. The exhaustion in his eyes, the stress she had seen weighing on his shoulders. Maybe he really was just trying to make things better for them, for their future.

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. “I know you’re doing all of this for us,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I just… I just need you sometimes, Isayah. More than just the occasional kiss or the moments when it’s convenient for you. I need you now, even if you’re tired. I need to feel like I’m not just waiting around.”

She paused, biting her lip. Her words were coming out softer, the frustration melting into something that resembled understanding. “But… I guess I get it. You’re right. You’re working hard so we can have a good future. I just wish you could see that I need you here too, not just when it’s convenient.”

Zilla stood there for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. He had been so focused on working hard, on making sure everything was set for their future, that he hadn’t realized how distant he had become. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he could see now that in his pursuit of building a life for them, he’d lost sight of the present—of her, of them.

He took a deep breath and pulled her into an embrace, his hand gently running through her hair. “I’m sorry, Dahlia,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I’ll do better. I promise. I’m just… trying to get us to a place where you don’t have to worry about anything. But I can’t do it without you.”

Dahlia melted into his arms, the tension slowly ebbing away as she let herself relax into him. “I know, Isayah. I know. I just want to feel like I matter too.”

“You do matter,” Zilla said, his voice sincere. He leaned in and kissed her, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, his eyes softened. “Come here.” He took her hand gently, guiding her toward the back door and into the cool evening air.

The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a serene glow over the pool. Zilla undressed slowly, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, followed by his pants, until he was left in just his briefs. Dahlia followed his lead, her fingers trembling slightly as she slipped out of her clothes, feeling the cool night air on her skin.

They both stepped into the warm water, the heat from the pool mixing with the slight steam rising around them. The water enveloped them, soothing their tired muscles. Zilla immediately pulled Dahlia closer, his hands wrapping around her waist as he held her against him.

“I cherish and care about you so much,” he whispered against her ear, his lips grazing the soft skin of her neck. “I don’t show it enough, but you mean the world to me. You’re everything.”

Dahlia closed her eyes, the weight of his words sinking into her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself feel the warmth of his love without the tension that had been building up between them. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they floated in the pool, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I just needed you to show me, Isayah,” she murmured, her voice full of calm. “To show me that you’re here. That you’re present.”

Zilla nodded, his hand gently caressing her back. “I’m here. I’m always here, Dahlia. I’ll do better, I promise.”

For a moment, they just held each other, the quiet serenity of the night and the warmth of the water enveloping them. Dahlia finally allowed herself to relax in his embrace, knowing that even though things weren’t perfect, they were still together—and that, in itself, was enough for now.

Zilla picked up Dahlia effortlessly, lifting her with ease as he twirled her gently in the water. The cool, refreshing pool water rippled around them as he smiled at her, the soft moonlight highlighting the curve of her growing belly.

His eyes lingered there for a moment, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “How far along are we?” he asked, his voice tender, a playful glint in his eyes.

Dahlia, her hands resting on his shoulders for balance, looked up at him and smiled, a touch of pride in her voice. “About 17 weeks,” she said.

Zilla’s eyes widened slightly as he gave her a once-over, his gaze softening. “Damn,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You look like you’re about to pop.”

Dahlia couldn’t help but laugh at his remark, her hands gently resting on her stomach as she looked down at it. “I am growing three babies, you know,” she said with a teasing smile, her voice full of warmth.

Zilla’s smile softened as he placed his hands on her belly, feeling the roundness beneath his fingertips. “Three little ones, huh?” he murmured, his expression growing tender. “I can’t wait to meet them. I’ll be the best dad I can be, for you and for them.”

Dahlia’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. She knew Zilla had his flaws, but hearing him speak with such conviction about their future brought a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a while. She reached up to cup his face, her thumb gently brushing over his jawline.

“I know you will be,” she whispered, her voice steady and full of love. “And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way.”

Zilla leaned in, kissing her forehead softly. “We’ve got this, Dahlia. Together.”

The moment hung between them, tender and quiet, as they both basked in the stillness of the night and the promise of their future—however uncertain it might be, they knew they would face it together.

—

The next day, Dahlia and Zilla were at the Houston Galleria, weaving through the busy mall crowds. The air smelled like a mix of cologne from designer stores and the sweet aroma of fresh pretzels from Auntie Anne's.

Dahlia stood in front of the dressing room mirror, adjusting the straps of the pink one-piece swimsuit she had on. She turned to the side, examining how it fit over her growing belly. Satisfied, she gathered the other three swimsuits she had picked out and stepped out of the fitting room.

"I like these," she said, holding up the swimsuits for Zilla to see.

Zilla glanced up from the rack of swim trunks he had been looking through. He was holding a few pairs himself-mostly black, red, and blue. "Yeah, those look nice," he said with an approving nod. "I found some too."

"Good," Dahlia smiled. "Let's check out and go get some food because I am starving."

Zilla chuckled, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the register. "You and these babies are always hungry," he teased, rubbing her belly affectionately.

Dahlia rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, maybe if their daddy wasn't a giant, they wouldn't need so much food." Zilla smirked. "Giant, huh?"

She giggled, nudging him as they reached the checkout counter. Once they paid for their swimsuits, they made their way out of the store and into the food court. The smell of fried chicken, burgers, and cinnamon rolls filled the air, making Dahlia's stomach growl.

Zilla glanced at her with amusement. "Damn, what are you in the mood for?"

Dahlia pursed her lips, scanning the different food spots.

"Either Chick-fil-A or that one Cajun place over there," she pointed.

Zilla smirked. "Let's get both. You eat for four now."

Dahlia rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile as they made their way to order their food. This was what she loved

-simple moments like this, just the two of them, enjoying each other's company.

As they settled into their seats with their food, Zilla still couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He looked at Dahlia, who was happily dipping a nugget into her Chick-fil-A sauce, completely unbothered by the sheer amount of food she had ordered.

"Baby," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you really just order a 30-count nugget tray?"

Dahlia looked up at him, chewing, and shrugged. "Yeah, and?" she said casually, taking a sip of her chocolate shake.

Zilla let out a laugh. "Damn, I thought I was the one that ate a lot."

"Well," she said, picking up another nugget, "I am feeding three babies who constantly demand food, so I don't wanna hear it."

Zilla smirked, reaching over to steal one of her nuggets.

She smacked his hand away playfully, making him chuckle.

"Alright, alright, l'll let you eat in peace."

Midway through their meal, Zilla's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and saw Jey calling. Letting out a small sigh, he picked it up.

"What's good, Uce?" Zilla answered, leaning back in his chair.

"Man, you tell me," Jey responded on the other end. "Y'all planning on bringing any food to the villa or are we gonna be starving out there?"

Zilla rolled his eyes. "Bro, you act like there's not gonna be a kitchen full of food already."

Jey scoffed. "Yeah, but you know how my family eats. If y'all don't bring extra, good luck getting a plate."

Zilla smirked. He knew Jey wasn't wrong. The Fatu family could throw down when it came to eating. If you weren't quick, you'd be left with scraps.

"Aight, I'll figure something out," Zilla said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Cool," Jey replied. "And tell Dahlia to not let you slack on that. I know how you are."

Zilla chuckled, glancing at Dahlia, who was still enjoying her nuggets. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

"Aight, bet. See y'all in a few days."

Zilla ended the call and put his phone down. Dahlia looked at him with curiosity. "Who was that?"

"Jey," Zilla replied, stealing a nugget while she was distracted. "He wants to make sure we're bringing food to the villa so we don't starve."

Dahlia snorted. "Sounds about right. Your family eats like a damn army."

Zilla grinned. "Exactly. We'll stop by the store before we head out, grab some stuff."

Dahlia nodded, finishing off her last few nuggets. "Good.

Now, can we go to Cinnabon before we leave?"

Zilla raised an eyebrow. "Ain't no way you're still hungry."

Dahlia smirked. "I never said I was hungry. I just want something sweet."

Zilla shook his head, laughing as he stood up. "Alright, let's go before you start craving the whole food court."

Dahlia grinned, grabbing her shake as they made their way toward Cinnabon, ready to satisfy her sweet tooth.

As Dahlia happily munched on her warm cinnamon roll, the sweet scent of cinnamon and icing filling the air, she and Zilla strolled through the mall. That was when her eyes landed on a small boutique tucked between two larger stores.

Maki’s Triple Wonders.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Zilla, look!” She pointed toward the shop, excitement creeping into her voice. “It’s a boutique specifically for triplet pregnancies!”

Zilla followed her gaze and let out a small chuckle. “Damn, I ain’t never seen a store like that before.”

Without hesitation, Dahlia grabbed his hand and led him inside. The boutique was cozy, lined with soft pastel-colored baby clothes, specialized strollers, and cribs made for three. A woman behind the counter, presumably Maki herself, smiled warmly at them.

“Welcome! Expecting triplets?” she asked cheerfully.

Dahlia beamed, resting her hand on her belly. “Yep, about seventeen weeks along.”

Maki’s eyes lit up. “Congratulations! You’re in the right place, then. We have everything you could possibly need for multiples—matching onesies, triple bassinets, car seats, even diaper bags designed specifically for three little ones.”

Zilla raised an eyebrow. “A diaper bag for three?”

Maki laughed. “Oh yes, trust me, you’re going to need it.”

Dahlia wandered deeper into the store, eyes darting to the tiny baby clothes hanging on racks. Her heart melted at the sight of a set of matching onesies—one that said Mama’s Mini, another that said Daddy’s Twin, and the third that read Oops, There’s Another One!

She let out a laugh and held them up for Zilla to see. “Look at these, babe! Aren’t they cute?”

Zilla smirked, shaking his head. “Man, they already roasting us with that last one.”

Dahlia giggled, placing the onesies in her basket. She glanced toward the front of the store and noticed a triple stroller on display—sleek, modern, and surprisingly not as bulky as she expected.

“Whoa…” she breathed, walking up to it. “Isayah, look at this.”

He came up behind her, inspecting the stroller. “Damn, it’s nice. Looks expensive, though.”

Maki, who had been watching their interest, stepped forward. “That’s actually one of our best sellers. It’s lightweight, easy to fold, and fits through standard doorways—something most triple strollers struggle with.”

Dahlia nodded eagerly. “That’s exactly what we need.”

Zilla sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, put it on the list.”

Dahlia gasped dramatically. “Seriously?”

Zilla chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. We’re gonna need one, right?”

Dahlia grinned, throwing her arms around him. “You’re the best.”

He smirked. “I know.”

As they continued browsing, adding a few more essentials to their growing list, Dahlia felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t worried about the stress of pregnancy, Zilla’s exhaustion, or the trip to the villa.

Right now, it was just them—preparing for the three little lives that would soon change their world forever.

Flashback – June 20th, 2025 – 10:31 PM

Zilla exhaled deeply, letting the hot water run over his sore muscles, washing away the sweat and exhaustion from his match. His first SmackDown main event. The moment still buzzed in his chest, the echoes of the crowd’s cheers still fresh in his ears.

This was his time. He could feel it. His character, his momentum, the way the fans had started to rally behind him—everything was clicking. He couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

With a final rinse, he turned off the shower, reaching for a towel and wiping himself down before securing it around his waist. He felt good. Accomplished. Ready to get dressed and head home to Dahlia.

But the moment he stepped out, his stomach twisted.

There she was.

Cora.

“The succubus has arrived.”

She leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, her signature smirk playing at her lips. Her dark hair framed her face, and her eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

“Hi,” she greeted smoothly.

Zilla’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t in the mood for this. Not tonight. Not ever.

“The hell you doin’ here?” His voice was tight, laced with annoyance.

Cora pushed off the lockers and took a slow step toward him, tilting her head. “Relax, Z. I just wanted to say… I’m proud of you.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

She sighed dramatically. “I mean it. You killed it out there tonight. Seeing you in that main event spot? It suits you.”

Zilla exhaled sharply, running a hand over his damp braids. “Aight. You said what you had to say. You can go now.”

But Cora wasn’t done.

“You know…” She traced a finger along the metal of the lockers. “Watching you out there kinda reminded me of something.”

He knew where this was going.

“That night at the hotel.”

Zilla’s entire body tensed. Nah. She wasn’t about to go there.

“You remember, don’t you?” she continued, voice like silk. “The way you relaxed at my touch..”

Zilla shook his head, scoffing. “Man, you really don’t quit, do you?”

Cora smirked. “Why would I? We had something good, Z.”

“We had nothin’,” he corrected, firm and final.

Cora stepped closer, invading his space. “You sure about that?”

Zilla stayed stone-still, refusing to give her an inch. “Dahlia is at home, waitin’ for me,” he said, his voice low, warning. “I’m not doin’ this with you.”

Cora’s eyes flickered—just for a second—before she masked it with another smirk. “You act like I’m some kind of villain.”

“You are,” he said flatly.

She let out a soft chuckle, and before he could step away, she reached up and pressed her lips to his.

Zilla froze. For a second.

Then he shoved her off, hard.

Cora stumbled back, blinking in surprise, before her expression twisted into something unreadable.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Zilla snapped, his breathing heavy, anger coiling in his chest.

Cora let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Damn, Z… you really changed, huh?”

“Yeah. I did,” he said, his voice firm, unwavering. “And I ain’t never goin’ back.”

For the first time, something flickered in Cora’s expression—something almost like hurt—before she quickly smothered it.

“Fine,” she said, lifting her hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say…”

She turned on her heel and walked away, but before she disappeared down the hall, she threw one last look over her shoulder.

“You know where to find me if you ever get bored of playing house.”

Zilla clenched his fists, watching as she disappeared.

Bored?

He thought about Dahlia. Thought about his future, their future.

And for the first time, he felt nothing but disgust for the person he used to be.

Zilla quickly shook off the interaction as he pulled on his clothes, throwing on his usual comfortable attire. The feeling of the fresh fabric against his skin helped ground him, the act of getting dressed almost as if it could shake off the tension from the earlier encounter. His mind still raced, but he did his best to keep it together.

He was adjusting his shirt when he heard the door open. He snapped his head toward it, so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash.

Standing there, looking casual in his sweats and a yeet sweater, was his cousin Jey. Zilla raised an eyebrow.

Jey had his signature blue palm tree Money in the Bank briefcase— or YEETcase as he called it—slung over his shoulder like it was just another bag, and a couple of duffels were resting at his feet. He tossed Zilla a casual look and grinned.

“You good, uce?” Jey asked, his voice light and unbothered, like he hadn’t just walked into his cousin’s mind being torn apart moments ago.

Zilla nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah, I’m straight.” He didn’t want to dive into it. He didn’t want to bring up Cora, his hesitation, or the mess in his head.

Jey took in Zilla’s appearance, narrowing his eyes for a second before leaning against the doorframe.

“You sure?”

Zilla threw on a smile, though it was more for show than anything. “Yeah. All good.”

“Alright, well,” Jey said, straightening up, “Wanna grab a drink with me? I could use one after the day I’ve had.”

Zilla looked at his cousin, a bit of relief flashing through him. It wasn’t the worst idea. He needed to get out of his head for a while.

“Yeah, alright,” Zilla replied, nodding. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed his keys, and the two of them walked out of the locker room, ready for the brief escape that only a drink and some time with family could bring.

—

Several hours later, after four Jack and cokes, Zilla and Jey were sitting comfortably in a corner booth at a bar, their laughter spilling out into the lively atmosphere. The heavy tension that had weighed on Zilla’s mind earlier had finally started to loosen, and the alcohol was helping him relax. His thoughts were still a bit jumbled, but the company of his cousin felt like a welcome distraction.

Zilla leaned back in his seat, chuckling as he wiped a hand across his face. “I’m serious,” he said, looking over at Jey with a raised eyebrow. “Are you ready to be a dad at 40?”

Jey, who was nursing his own drink, shot him a smirk. “Man, at least I’ve had two before this third one.” He took a long sip before setting the glass down, his tone a mix of playful and genuine. “You’re having the same amount of kids I’m having, all at once, at a very young age. Are you ready for that kind of responsibility?”

Zilla stared down at his drink for a moment, a small sigh escaping his lips. He wasn’t quite sure if it was the alcohol or the weight of the conversation, but it was hard to ignore the lump that formed in his throat. “I’m not gonna lie, uce…” Zilla paused, trying to find the right words. “But I’m kind of scared. Never thought I’d have a full-blown family at 25.”

Jey gave him a sympathetic nod, his expression softening. “I get it,” he said quietly. “It’s a lot to take in. But you’re gonna be a great dad, Zilla. It’s all about learning as you go. You might not have everything figured out now, but you’ll make it work. You’ve got a strong head on your shoulders and a family that’s here for you, you know that, right?”

Zilla smiled, the alcohol and the reassurance from his cousin helping him to breathe a little easier. “Yeah, I know. I just never thought life would throw this at me so soon. But I’ll figure it out. I have to.”

Jey raised his glass, giving Zilla an encouraging look. “You will. And when you do, those babies are gonna be lucky as hell to have you.”

The two clinked their glasses together in a quiet toast, both silently acknowledging the changes that were coming their way, but with a sense of comfort in knowing they had each other to lean on through it all.

Zilla leaned back in the booth, his eyes flicking around the bar for a moment, unsure of where to start. The alcohol buzz was fading now, and the weight of the conversation settled heavier on his chest. Jey was staring at him, patient but expectant, waiting for him to open up fully.

Jey leaned forward a bit, sensing Zilla’s hesitation. “So what’s on your mind, dude?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “I feel like you’re opening up, but you’re not really opening up. You know what I mean?”

Zilla exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know…” He stared into his drink, as if the swirling liquid would give him the answers he needed. “I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jey raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer, his tone serious. “What do you mean? Talk to me.”

Zilla paused, swallowing hard before finally meeting Jey’s eyes. There was a long silence between them, the music from the bar playing softly in the background. Zilla didn’t know why he’d been holding back. Maybe it was the fear of looking weak, or maybe it was the weight of everything that was happening so fast.

He sighed deeply. “I guess… I guess I’m scared.” He swallowed again, trying to push past the tightness in his chest. “This whole family thing… it’s happening so quickly, and I don’t know if I’m ready for all of it. There’s this pressure—like, I want to be the man she needs, and I want to be a good father, but I don’t know how to balance it all. One minute I’m thinking I’ve got this, and the next, I’m second-guessing everything.”

Jey listened quietly, his eyes steady as he nodded in understanding. “That’s a lot, man,” he said, his voice calm. “It’s okay to be scared. You’re facing some big changes, and it’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But you don’t have to have it all figured out right now.”

Zilla looked down at the table, his fingers tapping lightly against the surface. “I don’t want to let her down. I want to be good for her, and for the kids.”

Jey’s hand landed on Zilla’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t let her down.” Jey’s voice softened, filled with a quiet confidence. “You’ve got a good heart, uce. You’re gonna make mistakes, but that’s part of the process. The fact that you’re even thinking about this shows you’re already on the right path. Don’t forget—you’re not doing it alone. You’ve got me, you’ve got your family, and you’ve got Dahlia. She believes in you. You’ve just gotta trust yourself too.”

Zilla closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the truth in Jey’s words. It wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe he was overthinking it all. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I just need to breathe and take it one step at a time.”

Jey nodded, giving him a small smile. “Exactly. And you’ll figure it out. I know you will. You’ve got this, uce.”

[berryhobii]

Baby Girl: Show Out (ksj x reader)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Kim Seokjin x SugarBaby!Brat!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K+

Warnings: established relationship(reader and Seokjin are technically together), smut (18+ but I don’t control what you consume, oral(m and f receiving), orgasms(f receiving), exhibitionism, getting caught but not caring, mentions of ruining furniture from s*x😝, reader’s definitely a bitch in this but I love it, Seokjin’s also violating so many company policies but remember this is fiction.

A/N: Hi hi! Here’s another one shot for my BabyGirl couple. I feel like I don’t read enough fics where reader is a mondo bitch so here’s my contribution🫣reader is in fact dark skinned in this and their style is Y2K and AaliyahCore if you didn’t know already. It’s just something about bad bitches in tiny skirts that I absolutely love😭anyway, please enjoy and stay safe🩵🩵

~

Blowing a bubble with your fruity flavored gum and then popping it, you strutted down the clean and spacious hallways, only the thought of that new Sanrio pop up that just opened downtown on your mind. You had seen an Instagram post about it earlier and your eyes could have bursted with rainbows and glitter. A Cinnamoroll plush in a bear costume? Yes! You needed it!

The only problem was you had spent the last of your allowance on a new Telfar purse and every color of those Bailey Bow UGG boots. Why exactly did you need every color? Obviously because the company made every color, duh. Why make multiple colors if they didn’t want people buying all of them? It was a smart business tactic that you’d fall for every time.

With those packages on the way and that Cinnamoroll calling your name, it was time for you to do what you do best.

Flutter your lashes and sweet talk your sugar daddy into giving you his credit card.

And deepthroating. You were good at that too. Maybe you could do both.

As your bright red MoonBoots(gotta get into the holiday spirit!) carried you down the hallways, you could feel the loathing stares and hear the gossiping whispers of each person you passed in the halls.

Unlike most sugar daddies and sugar babies, you and Seokjin didn’t hide your relationship at all. Everyone knew who you were and what your relationship entailed. Initially, Seokjin kept you under wraps; only coming to see you in the dead of night, renting out places for your dates so that no one would see you together. Sometimes, he’d make you wear masks and sunglasses when you’d enter and exit his condo. It was going pretty well.

However, after an employee at a restaurant he brought you to secretly snapped a photo of the both of you and posted it online, the secret could no longer be hidden. So after suing that employee and addressing multiple news outlets out his secret relationship, you were allowed to parade around freely. With the news of South Korea’s biggest bachelor having a sugar baby, you had to be more careful in public. Seokjin assigned you a driver and he tried to get you a security guard but you insisted that would pull more attention to you. He wasn’t sure but after giving him a blowjob and signing up for self defense classes, he relented.

Since you didn’t have to hide yourself anymore, you waltzed into Seokjin’s office like you owned it. Always dressed loudly and fashionably, a designer bag swinging on your arm and Tiffany studs in your ears(never less than 18 carats), you were the head bitch. New York would be so proud of you!

And every jealous woman’s stare only stroked your ego further.

You reached the desk of Seokjin’s personal secretary. While you didn’t have to stop to talk to her, you got a kick out of pissing her off. No one knew except you and Seokjin but he told you that Rina had confessed her feelings to him a little bit after you two had initially started your relationship. He had politely rejected her and there was no awkwardness from his side. He still treated her kindly and relied on her as his secretary.

Then the news of you came to the light and all of those bitter feelings of rejection evolved into pure anger and transferred right to you.

She lifted her eyes from her computer, face immediately dropping at the sight of your wide smile.

“Good afternoon, Rina. How are you today?”

Rolling her eyes, she let out a frustrated sigh before gritting out a, “fine.” She wanted nothing more but to tell you to get the hell out of her face but everyone knew you had Seokjin wrapped around your finger. Any disrespect towards you was practically asking to get fired. And Rina liked this job and it’s benefits too much to let you ruin it.

And you knew that.

“Do you like my new purse?” You held up the bag in her face. “It’s from the new Marc Jacobs collection.”

Her lips formed a sneer, eyebrow twitching slightly. “Is it? I couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah. It’s probably not in your price range so I get it.” You shot back with a bitchy smirk. Smoke could have came out of her ears from how red her face became. “Anyway, is Seokjin in?”

Swallowing down the rising insult in her throat, she gritted out, “he’s busy right now.”

Checking your nails, totally ignoring what she just said. “Alright then I’ll go in. Oh do me a favor?”

She watched you take the gum out of your mouth and stick it right on the pad of sticky notes on her desk. You shot her a quick wink before walking by her, leaving her jaw dropped and blood boiling.

Opening the door, you strutted inside the spacious room. You spotted the new leather couches off to the right. Those were your idea; leather was easier to clean. You and Seokjin absolutely destroyed those fabric sofas he had with your antics. Did furniture warranty’s cover acts of kinky sex that would make a nun faint? They should.

That aside, your focus went to the objective of this visit.

Posture slightly hunched and deft fingers typing over his keyboard, Seokjin was absorbed in whatever work was in front of him. At the sound of the door opening and closing, he lifted his gaze. His eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you, thick lips stretching across beautiful straight teeth. You reciprocated his cheesy grin, happily skipping over to his desk with a newfound pep in your step. Placing your purse on the corner of the desk, you leaned both of your palms on the wood.

He pushed down the screen of his laptop, his spine straightening as his mood immediately improved. “Baby girl. What a surprise.” He couldn’t stop himself from taking a glance at your cleavage that was on display in the red bra you wore, a black mesh long sleeved distressed shirt under it which just barely helped hide your pebbled nipples. He always thought you looked cute but this look was just on the edge of sexy. As if the black mini skirt and garter belt wasn’t enough, the red choker around your throat made him go crazy.

His stare didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Am I interrupting anything?” If you were, you didn’t really care but you weren’t anything if not a polite baby girl.

“Of course not. I was just sending a few emails. I was about to take a break anyway.” He moved his chair back a little, patting a hand on his lap. You smiled, rounding his desk to take your rightful place on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning in nose at your shoulder and press a few kisses there.

“You look beautiful today.”

You cupped his cheek to lift his head, rubbing your nose against his. “Thank you. So do you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into a hot and lip gloss sticky kiss. He sighed contentedly against your mouth, his fingers squeezing at your hip and thighs. Taking the initiative, you tilted his head back to kiss him deeper and to play for dominance just a little bit.

Seokjin smirked into the lip lock. He’d never admit it but he loved when you took control. You were submissive through and through—his good girl. However you had your few moments where you could get a little bratty, a little brave and he couldn’t deny the small thrill it sent through him. It sparked his own inner dom and made him want to gently push you back into that submissive state.

Then again, this was pretty hot too.

He let you kiss him how you wanted for a little bit, just relaxing and letting himself melt into you and your affection.

After a little making out, you parted from him, giggling at his slightly flushed cheeks and pouty lips. Your thumb swiped over his spit slicked bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Mhmm. How much do you need?”

Welp, guess that deepthroating was off the table.

Dramatically gasping, you held a hand to your chest in faux shock. “How dare you? I came here to have an engaging conversation with you.”

He rolled his eyes, not believing you for a second. While you two have been together for a while and have shared many intimate and romantic times together, the sugar daddy/baby dynamic still remained at the base of all of that. You visited him at work every often, normally for lunch dates or to show him a new outfit but you only had that bounce in your step when you came to ask for something.

He also had never seen that purse before which probably meant you had spent your allowance.

Ugh. You were spoiled and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fine then. Start the conversation.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

Damn it. He got you.

Slumping in defeat, you sighed, jutting out your bottom lip. “Okay fine. I spent my allowance and I want to go to the Sanrio pop up downtown.”

His grin was as endearing as it was heart fluttering. Either way, it was dangerous for your heart. Why did he have to be so damn handsome? How could you charm the pants off a man that had you like putty in his hands just from a simple smile?

“What if I told you I was already planning on taking you there tomorrow?”

Your smile was so wide you could have sponsored Colgate. A squeal of glee came from your throat, your arms yanking him into a hug as you bounced on his lap.

He laughed at your reaction, returning the embrace with the arm that was behind your back.

“Really?! Oh my goodness!” You pressed multiple pecks across his cheeks and nose, covering every inch of his face in your gloss.

“But while you’re here, why don’t we have lunch together? There’s a nice buffet that just opened not too far from here. I think I have a meeting in a little while but we can go when I’m done.”

“That sounds amazing.” You hummed, sweetly kissing his lips again.

Hands began feeling, kisses began getting a little more desperate, and eventually, your panties were soaked.

What could you say? Money made you horny. Quoting the wise words of your president Yung Miami and her vice president JT: “don’t nothing but a bag make this pussy talk.” Ah, you should get that framed and hung on your wall.

Your acrylics scratched at the nape of his neck, your tongues swirling around each others in a battle for dominance. He won, of course but only because you let him.

You pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth and biting just a little before releasing it.

“What do you say?” He started for you, eyes hypnotic and luscious lips slightly parted. You wanted to kiss all the air out of his lungs.

That seductive glint in your eye paired with that coy smirk…..

“Thank you, daddy.”

You drove him fucking insane.

Boisterous giggles came from your mouth as he hauled you onto his desk before sitting back down in his chair. You instinctively spread your legs for him, giving him a front row seat to your pussy lips.

He groaned, erection beginning to strain against his dress pants.

“No panties? You bad girl.” His thumb ran across your folds, smearing your wetness to your clit. “What if someone would have seen?”

You bit your lip. “I might have flashed a man downstairs….”

That confession warranted a light slap to your clit making you jump.

Seokjin’s eyes were dark and his smirk was smug, cocky almost because he knew that only he could touch you.

“Naughty girl. Will daddy need to punish you? Flashing what’s mine to people.” He scolded with a tut, both thumbs moving to spread your puffy lips apart so he could see your winking hole.

You whined, wiggling your bottom. “I’m sorry, daddy. It was an accident. I’m a good girl, I swear.”

His hot breath blew over your clit, tongue flicking out to tease it.

“That’s right. Your daddy’s good girl.”

The licks to your clit were calculated and firm, your head falling back as you were finally getting some much needed relief. You hadn’t seen Seokjin for 3 days and the strict No Touching rule he gave you meant that your pussy was feeling a little neglected.

But now he was about to give you exactly what you needed.

When his plush lips wrapped around your precious little clit, your back arched and you let a whiny moan out into the air. That same sinfully flexible tongue trailed down to your gushing hole, digging further to all the splits he could reach. Your arms couldn’t hold you anymore, your back meeting his desk and your head hanging over the side.

Your viscous arousal tasted so god damn good on his tongue. He couldn’t control his own moans as his mouth worked you higher and higher.

And you were making the prettiest noises; your gasps for air and whiny squeaks whenever he’d give you a deep suck to your clit. They just made him want to absolutely devour you, just to pull more of those delightful sounds from you. His arms wrapped around your thighs to pull you closer, loud slurps and licks filling the space next to your moans.

He felt your hand loop through his hair, letting you take over a little and chase your high. Not that he needed any help getting you there, you always got lost in pleasure, desperate to climb that mountain and tumble off of it.

Seokjin was so absorbed in your juicy cunt that he didn’t even hear the knock on his office door.

Through your hazy and half lidded eyes, you noticed the door open, a familiar face peeking inside.

Rina.

“Sir, are you-“

Her body froze at the sight of you laid out across the rich mahogany desk, her boss’s face buried between your legs. She knew you two weren’t very secretive about what went down. Hell, even she wasn’t dense enough to think you two didn’t get frisky in multiple parts of this office. The main gossip during lunchtime was about people hearing you and Seokjin having sex in places like bathrooms, private conference rooms, even the break room that one time. She didn’t care about it considering she didn’t like you very much and hated giving you the satisfaction that you irked her soul.

Actually catching you two in the act was not in her Bingo card this year.

It was in yours though.

Smirking, you let out a pornographic moan.

“Oh my god, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!”

Rina watched stunned, your eyes locked with hers in a display of dominance and arrogance that could only come from someone like you.

Pampered. Pretty. And a spoiled bitch.

You loved your life.

Seokjin hummed, lips wrapping around your clit again. “Cum in my mouth, baby girl.”

“Yes daddy!” Your back arched as the waves came crashing down on you, the hand tangled in his air keeping him in place against your clit. He stayed where you wanted him, delivering little kitten licks to your bud to help you ride it out. He greedily slurped up every sticky drip of wetness you had, more pouring from your hole.

When you released him, he sat up, your juices dripping down his chin and his kissable lips cherry red from all their hard work.

Your chest rose and fell with deep breaths as you lifted yourself from his desk. Grabbing his chin with one hand, you bent down to capture his lips in a kiss.

“Thank you daddy.” You whispered against his pout. “Why don’t I repay the favor?”

“Get on your knees, baby girl.”

“Yes daddy. I also think Rina wants to talk to you.”

Slipping down from his desk, your knees hit the floor and your hands went for his belt.

That’s when Seokjin finally took notice of his secretary. Running a hand through his messy hair, he acknowledged her. “Yes Rina?”

As if his call of her name pressed the play button on her universal remote, she broke from her state of shock.

“I-I….uh….you-your m-meeting is in 10 minutes.” She stammered out.

Nodding, he looked down at you who had already began slobbering all over his cock, your hand pumping at his shaft.

“Heard that baby girl? 10 minutes.”

“That’s all I need.”

[dibidibidismynameisleeknow]

Twelve Days of Mingyu 🎄 12/12

Day 12 - Dinner and Gift Exchange

It's over! Oh no. If you just got here or don't want to let go. Click ✨here✨

The instructions for the night’s date were to wear the fanciest thing in your closet and to doll yourself up. Mingyu did tell you that the two of you were going out for dinner but never specified where, just to keep the romance alive. The time seemed to drag on while you waited for Mingyu, not that he had run late, he was always very punctual, you were just looking forward to the evening. 

Sure, the date itself wasn’t necessarily festive, but the length Mingyu went to plan everything meant the world. There’s no doubt that he would do it again a thousand times over. 

The restaurant was elegant, with soft lighting and menus filled with ingredients and words you didn’t know. Mingyu watched as you tried to pronounce the name of the dishes to yourself, and failed miserably at it. You graciously accepted his offer to order for you.

“I’ll give you my answer about visiting your family after we exchange gifts. But I owe you an explanation about why I never go back home.”

“I just get sad at the thought of you being alone. If you’re uncomfortable sharing, I respect that boundary. The person you are now and the person you’ll become are what matters the most to me.”

“I was never really close with my family, then it slowly got worse.” The restaurant was quite spacious which was definitely useful since you were about to tell Mingyu your whole back story.

“There was a lot of pressure on me to work at my parents’ law firm. There are no words to describe how mad they were at me when I told them it wasn’t something I had the slightest interest in. In their eyes, me becoming a software developer was a waste of time and I was a failure. So, I told them I was leaving and they didn’t believe me. They were convinced I would end up unemployed and homeless then I’d come crawling back. I haven’t spoken to them since.”

“That’s…rough. I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thank you. Honestly though, I’m okay. I’ve never been happier.”

Not wanting to kill the mood for the evening you suggested the gift exchange, just to put each other's attention on something a little more positive. You did warn Mingyu that his Christmas gift was quite heavy but the expression in his face told you that he severely underestimated the gift’s weight. There was also slight concern etched on his face as he racked his brain to come up with some ideas of what it might be, any ideas really. 

Mingyu’s gift to you was beautifully wrapped in snowman designed paper and a bow that he had made himself.

“It’s so pretty, Mingyu. I don’t want to ruin it.” As delicate as you could possibly manage you cautiously unwrapped the gift to avoid ripping the paper.

“It’s fine, just tear into it.” Mingyu was beyond excited with the gift he threw together for you. As he should be. “That’s what I had to pick up from the post office the day you came over to paint.”

Inside the beautifully wrapped package was a customized scrapbook in your favourite colour. The front of the book had a little plastic slot that held a photo of the two of you from when you went to get your picture taken with Santa. 

“If I open this I’m going to cry.” The pages contained memories from the past twelve dates; Mingyu’s letter to Santa, a cutout from the box of gingerbread cookies you decorated among many other memories.  “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I love it.”

“Before I open the gift you got me. I have something important to say.” Mingyu moved the gift you got him to the side to lean in as close as he could to you and repeated some very familiar words;

“There are not enough words to express the feelings I have for you. You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have fallen so deeply in love with you and I hope we fall in love in every life after this one.”

At a loss for words, your jaw dropped. “How did- That’s what-”

“I love you.”

It took a moment for you to process what was said. “That’s what I wrote on the back of the canvas I painted you.”

“You weren’t so subtle when you tried to hide the back of it.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from a canvas instead of me.”

“I loved it, it was so sweet. Now I can keep that memory forever.”

The moment you received your gift you knew tears would be shed, there was nothing that could have been done to stop them, so you just embraced them. Mingyu was too busy focusing on you that you had to remind him to open the gift, and to stop trying to guess what it was.

“Books? Textbooks!” Mingyu's jaw dropped as he examined the books, amazed. “You bought me books for school! That’s so helpful. Thank you so much.” Even Mingyu couldn’t hold back his own tears. “You believe in me so much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just wait until you see what’s at the back of the first book.”

“What did you do?” Concerned but yet intrigued, Mingyu followed your instructions, and there sat the answer he had been waiting for all evening. “Oh, thank you so much for buying my train ticket. I’m going to miss you.”

“Tickets,” you corrected. “Plural, there’s two there.”

“You’re coming with me? You’re coming with me! You’re going to meet my family! We are going to have so much fun, they’re going to love you. This is so exciting.”

“Oh, one more thing.”

He hummed in reply, still excited that you would be joining him and his family for the holidays.

“I love you too, Mingyu.”

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Bruno yandere alphabet

Affection — how do they show their love and affection? 

Bruno is a romantic, love knows no bounds and is restricted to no form. He'll pepper them with kisses and offer anything his darling wants (with obvious exceptions) on a golden platter. A reservation at a high end restaurant? Tickets to a show they so desperately wish to attend? A course that was way out of their budget? All their if he feels that they are safe and trustworthy.

If his darling is tense he'll make it his priority to ease them. Run them a hot bath, offer them a massage and cook their favorite meal.

To put it in simple terms he'll spoil them rotten if given the chance.

Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Bruno doesn't show it around others, but he's very much capable of taking a life. It's a last resort but he will not stress over killing another if he deems it warranted. He has many more non lethal ways to despose of anyone who gets in the way of his romantic pursuits.

However he does not make it a messy death, he does not reveal in carnage. He's quick and precise, using his stand to take out his target.

Cruelty —  how would they treat their darling once abducted? 

He treats his darling wonderfully in comparison to other yanderes. All their accommodations are met for in a suite. If they're co-operative he'll allow them around the rest of the house. It's nothing opulent but it's spacious and homily.

He's open when it comes to helping his darling adjust to this new environment. This is their new home now and he'll make sure they think of it as such.

Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Bruno gets physically affectionate with his darling but hugs and kisses are as far as he'll go. Other then that he'll definitely keep their communications to a minimum.

However if darling is being aggressive or is actively making attempts to escape he may just confiscate a limb or two until he feels they've settled down.

Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Bruno is a bleeding heart to those who he deems close. He'll put his life on the line for those he loves and his darling is no exception. If it was his life or his darlings without any other outcome he would sacrifice himself.

Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He hates it, he's trying his best to be the perfect spouse for his darling. He hates having to punish them but he feels as though he has to in order to prove himself.

Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

God no, he minimizes any chance to escape and shuts any attempts the moment he ever suspects

Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The isolation. He practically cuts out any communication with those his darling knows. He'll construct a seemingly perfect excuse to anyone wanting to reach out. Eventually he might ease it back into their life if he feels they've proven themself trustworthy.

However during that period he'll be the only one they will see and hear. They can't give him the silent treatment forever?

Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

He wants to leave Passione and settle down on the coast with his darling and start a family. A proper, happy family.

Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

Bruno gets jealous but to him he sees it as being protective. If he feels as though someone is in his way he will straight up tell them that that it'd be best if they stopped hanging around darling. If not he'll start messing with their lives, starting small but progressively becoming more detrimental the more they push back.

Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

Super affectionate. Kisses, cuddles, praise and pet names seem never-ending

Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

He's unassuming at first. A charming, sweet man who prioritizes his darlings needs. How could such a man be capable of such horrendous things?

It's unbelievable whether to darling or the people around her. But soon they'll realize what they were told was the truth

Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Bruno is mostly pleasant but sometimes darling will get a glance at another side he doesn't show to those he cares for. Never to his darling directly. He'll show evident anger if darling mentions someone he deems a threat, especially if they're close. He might even confess what he's done to them and what he'll do next if the person in question doesn't stop or if darling continues to talk/be around them.

Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

For small punishments he locks his darling in their suite.

For more extreme scenarios he'll take his darlings limbs, maybe one or two to impair them or all to make a point. To have them totally dependent on him. He'll dress them, feed them and clean them. He'll still care for them in such a pathetic state because he cares for and loves them. How many others would care for someone in such a state?

Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Taking away his darlings limbs also takes away their autonomy. Forcing them to have to rely upon him for tasks they would previously be able to do with ease.

He also cuts his darlings contact with the outside world.

Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

He has the patience of a Saint. Almost always soft spoken with his darling. He only resorts to kidnapping them if he feels as though they're in danger. Even when annoyed it comes across more like a mothers scolding. He would never harm darling.

Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He's experienced loss before but I don't think he'd ever get over it. He'll put on a brave face, never showing others just how hurt he is. He will try to move on. It's horrible but he can't change what happened, just hope the future has something in hold for him.

Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? 

He does, but ultimately he believes that he has to do it. It's for their sake.

Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Bruno had to grow up far too early, he had to do horrible things to get to where he is now. The loss of his father and seeming lack of his mother in his life means he probably hasn't had people who he cared for in his life for years. So he feels strongly when he does and tries to keep it at all costs.

Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Hates seeing his darling in such a state and will try anything to make them feel better.

Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

His absolute dedication to his darling, he wants to see them flourish. He wants to give them the perfect life.

Also his aversion to violence, it's not completely out of the question but he prefers to make a point, senseless violence does not convey a clear message.

Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He hates seeing them in any negative mood. He'll do almost anything to make them happy. He won't let the outright leave but they could convince them that they should get out or ask for items that are inconspicuous yet can be used to escape.

Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

Never would he ever intentionally hurt his darling.

Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling? 

Oh he loves his darling. He want to put them on a podium. He wants his darlings dream to come true and to be the best spouse they could ever have.

Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It is all dependant on how safe his darling is. He could for maybe a year at most before his attempts become more desperate at best.

Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

Absolutely not