#finger chips online

[sahaudyogfoods]

Sourcing Pure Wheat Flour Papad and Finger Chips Online

Here’s a guide to navigating the digital marketplace to find these quintessential delights, ensuring an unparalleled culinary experience. However, if you are looking for these pure wheat flourpapadand finger chips online, always prefer the Saha Udyog online store.

More Info: https://www.algo360i.com/sourcing-pure-wheat-flour-papad-and-finger-chips-online/

[ceilidho]

prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.

-

The job comes at the exact right time. 

The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go. 

Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself. 

At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender. 

He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.

You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours. 

Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave. 

You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice. 

The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.

Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss. 

You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic. 

Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.

Good soldier. Better boss. 

You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost. 

Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.

“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest. 

When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile. 

He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation. 

“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.

A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.” 

He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.

[bsturnzmtts]

Older bf! Matt and sweetheart! Readers … First kiss

Matt had invited you to his house while his brothers were out to bake cookies. You were excited to spend time together, completely focused on the fun of baking, and still oblivious to the fact that Matt had been flirting with you all along. Little did you know, he had something else in mind for the day…

When you get to his house you knock on the door, excited for the activity he had planned.

Matt opens the door with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey," he greets softly, stepping aside to let you in. He closes the door behind you. "So, I thought we could make the classic, chocolate chip cookies”

“Hi, yeah that sounds perfect.” You say with a soft smile.

Smiling back at you, he leads you to the kitchen. "Come on, I'll get everything laid out." he says, taking out the ingredients and putting them on the counter. "I thought maybe we could make a little tradition of this."

“Yeah! We could even make them depending on the holiday. Like for Christmas we make gingerbread man cookies, for Halloween maybe we could decorate them on theme etc.” You say showing interest in his idea, and helping him out with the ingredients.

He leans against the counter, smiling at your excitement, and can't help but tease gently, "There you go again with your sweet ideas." He pulls out two aprons, one for each of you. "Let me put this on before we make a mess..." He puts his one on and then grabs the other one and walks closer to you to put it on.

You get slightly nervous when he gets close and puts on the apron on you. “We look funny in these.” You chuckle softly.

He chuckles too and ties the apron strings around your waist. "We do, don't we?" He says with a soft smile, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment before he steps back. "Now, let's get started on these cookies, shall we?"

“Let's get started” you agree. You guys start making the cookies, following instructions from a recipe you found online. You start adding and mixing ingredients.

As you work, Matt can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way you concentrate on the task at hand, the way your hair falls in loose waves around your face, and the way your lips purse slightly as you focus on measuring out the ingredients. But he can’t help wanting a little bit of extra fun. So he puts a bit of flour in his hands and spreads some on your cheek. “Opps, looks like you got something on your cheek.” He laughs.

“Maaatt!” You laugh. “I’m gonna get revenge.” You say as you try to do the same thing he did to you.

He dodges playfully, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh no, I don't think so!" He teasingly grabs your wrists just as you're about to flour him, pulling you slightly closer.

“Not fair” you mumble.

"Life's not fair." He teases back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you get me next time." He slowly releases your wrists but remains close.

“Just a tiny bit on your nose pleaseeeee” you ask with a smile.

He pretends to think about it, tapping his finger against his chin dramatically. "Alright, alright. But only a tiny bit, promise?"

“Yeaaaaah only a bit” you say, but take the opportunity and spread flour all over his cheek and a small dot in his nose as you laugh.

He laughs out loud, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You lied!" He wipes his hands on his apron. "Okay, I guess we’re equal now."

You guys laugh it out and continue with the cookies. Once the dough is done you put them straight in the oven.

“Okay! In 30 minutes we’re gonna have some amazing cookies” you say.

"Thanks to your excellent flouring skills." He teases, still wiping flour from his face. "You know, you're really good at this baking stuff." He compliments softly, his smile warm. "You're really good at a lot of things actually." He says as he steps closer leaving you in between the counter and him.

You get slightly nervous as he gets close again and can’t help but blush a little at his compliments. “Thank you.”

He notices your blush and softly reaches up to brush a slight smudge of flour off your cheek, his fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The way you react to his compliments makes him want to give you more, to see that pink spread across your cheeks again. "You don't have to be shy around me, you know?”

You get even more nervous and you look away. “I-… I’m not shy, I’m just-”

He tilts your chin up gently with his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "Just what?" He asks softly, his voice low and gentle. His eyes search yours, looking for the answer in their depths.

“Well… maybe a little shy,” you admit.

He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "A little shy?" He repeats, his thumb gently rubbing your chin. "I think you're more than a little shy." He teases gently. His eyes are locked with yours as he gets even more closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You’re shocked by his question. You don’t know what to answer. So you just slur out the first thing that came to your mind. “I- I’ve never kissed.”

His heart skips a beat at your response. He gently lifts his hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin. "You've never kissed anyone before?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Well what else could he expect from someone as innocent and shy as you, he thinks.

You shake your head feeling slightly embarrassed.

He smiles softly, his heart melting at your shy demeanor. "And here I thought you were just really good at playing hard to get." He jokes lightly. He steps even closer, one hand still gently pressed against your waist while the other cups your face. "Would you... let me be your first?" He asks, his voice tender and respectful.

A pink shade spreads through your cheeks as you feel even more nervous. But your head nods yes.

He lets out a soft sigh of relief as he gently leans in, his lips pressing softly against yours in a gentle, sweet kiss. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and care, as if he's treating something precious. His hand at your waist tightens slightly as he deepens the kiss gently. While you kiss back trying to mimic his movements.

A soft smile curls his lips at your innocent attempt to mimic him. He gently slides his hand up to cup the back of your neck, while keeping the kiss slow and tender. After a moment, he pulls back slightly to look at your flushed face. "Perfect.”

Taglist: @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa

@mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp

@mattsfavbitchhh @yourenogoodforme-blog @mattshighway @lauren-222 @slvtformatts

@megamorgan44 @xaristhings @ariestrxsh @sucretwin @tisiablack

@sturniololover69 @wakeupitschrizz @jessie-essie @freshlov3 @sturniolofreakk

@lydi2718 @chrisstvrns @le4hsblog @pip4444chris @chris-hallelujah

@esioleren @namelesssav @ilovemenwithlonghairr @ribread03 @valkatriee

@sturniolofreakk @izzylovesmatt @lolastrniolo @pip4444chris @idrk2292

@strnilolover @2prcntmilkluvr @chrisslvtxx @madifilipowiczslvt @strvnolin

@nelxoxo14 @miasturn1ol0 @mattssslutbby @sophsturns @mynbbys

[frannyzooey]

Midnight

Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: E

A/N: Happy New Year’s Eve! ❤️ Thank you for being so kind and patient with me this year — it’s been a long one, but this place has made it all the more tolerable. This has been a WIP since 2021 (!!) and it was so wild to brush it off and compare how much my writing has changed since then — thank you for sticking around, for being so supportive and for being a part of this community. I appreciate you all and hope you all have a great 2025! 🎉🎊🍾

—

9PM

The kitchen is already packed. 

It’s been an hour since you arrived to the greeting of your coworkers broad smile, getting her for all of two minutes before you promptly lost her again. You’d seen pieces of her since, shimmers of her silver dress in between the crowd of bodies: her arm extended to hand someone a drink, her hip pressed against the counter to refill a chip bowl, her bright laugh above the din of conversation. 

The beer in your hand had started out cold, but now borders on luke warm as you take a tentative sip. You grimace at the flavor, yet hold onto it, if only for something to do with your hands. 

“Why are you drinking that?” 

She appears in front of you, at last, the only person you know here. Pulling a face at the bottle in your hand, she lifts her eyebrow. “You don’t drink beer. Couldn’t find anything better at the bar?”

“I didn’t even see a bar,” you reply, standing on your toes to look around the room. All you see are shoulders and heads, a sea of pointed hats with shiny poms of tinsel on top. 

She rolls her eyes with a smile, plucking the beer from your grip to take your hand in hers. 

“Over here,” she leads, tugging you towards the living room. 

Turning your body sideways to get through the crowd, you grin when the bar comes into sight. 

The cart is an art-deco elaborate thing, mirrored and gilded. You remember her shopping for it online at the office, hiding the screen whenever your manager would walk by. Its beauty is hidden underneath a crowd of bottles, just as tight as the people in her apartment, and she twists and turns them, searching. 

Lifting one up, she offers something else with a familiar smile. “Gin?” 

You grin. “Yes please.”

–

10PM

One heavy handed gin and tonic later, you’re feeling much better about the situation. 

You haven’t seen your friend in awhile, but that’s okay – your other coworkers have arrived. 

“Okay but why is it such a personal thing?” you ask, tipping your cup to slip an ice cube into your mouth. “I know which one is yours – the one with Snoopy on it – and it’s not like it would be wrong if I took it, but it would feel wrong, you know?”

Your coworker nods earnestly. “Coffee cups in the office are weird thing, man. They aren’t labeled, but like…you just know.”

He shuffles forward for someone to pass by him, and you back up to make room, your back pressing against the stranger behind you. They are a solid wall of heat, and before you can turn and apologize, the ringing shout of more people being welcomed draws your attention in the direction of the kitchen door. Your friend appears under the archway a second later, leading a train of people through the crowd and as everyone parts to make room, the person behind you reaches back, placing their hand on your hip. Their hold pushes you lightly towards the wall, out of the way. 

Looking down, you see a man’s hand – thick fingers, a broad palm and when you turn around, you find the owner. 

Jesus Christ. 

He’s fucking gorgeous. Tilting your chin up to start with the dark mop of his curls, you hungrily take in the rest of his face: a strong nose, plush lips, jaw covered in scruff. Easily the most handsome person you’ve ever seen, you’re frozen in place, and his neat mustache twitches with amusement. 

“Hey,” he greets you, turning to fully face you. “Sorry,” he gestures to your hip with a flick of his eyes. “Didn’t want you to get run over.”

Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. Beautiful and brown, rich and dark – with creases that fan out when he smiles. He waits you out, and you wonder if he’s used to your reaction, or if his silence means he’s just as enamored as you with what he sees. 

You hope it’s the latter, though you’re sure it’s the former. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, and he grins, a dimple appearing in his cheek. 

A fucking dimple? Are you kidding? 

“Din,” he says, pointing towards himself with the neck of his beer bottle. When you give him your name, you don’t miss the way his eyes slip down the length of your body and crawl back up. So open and blatant with his expression, it’s almost as if he doesn’t think you can see it.

Or maybe he knows you can, but doesn’t care. 

Giddiness pools in your chest, and he gestures for your glass. 

“Can I get you another?” he asks over the noise of the party. 

“Sure.”

You grin, and he mirrors it. 

–

11pm

How can someone be this good at charades?

It’s uncanny, his ability to convey so much with gestures alone. You wonder if maybe it has something to do with his confidence, or the graceful, commanding movement of his body. It’s like you’ve been able to read his mind and he yours, the two of you synced up after forty minutes in each other’s presence. He says nothing, and still, you understand every time. 

His face is so subtly expressive, that’s what you think makes it. Or maybe it’s his hands, – large, capable looking things that he seems so deft with. 

They’ve been touching you since you met — a firm pressure on the small of your back to guide you through rooms, a circle around your wrist when you were almost separated. A curved hold on your hip when you signed him up for charades, a gentle brush of his fingers when he slipped the strap of your dress into place after a round. 

He comes back from the bar, two water bottles in hand and his weight drops on the couch next to you, his thigh pressing tight against your own. 

The cushion forces you to lean into the bulk of his body and turning your head to the side, you whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “We’re killing them.”

The divot below his ear holds the best scent – heady and masculine, warm in the best way – and he smiles, returning a whisper of his own. 

“I know.” 

His boyish grin is deceptive, hiding how competitive he’s been this entire game, a trait that you find yourself liking. Not boastful like most guys, but more like he brims with a quiet confidence. Like he’s just sure of himself, his commanding presence drawing you in. 

The other team starts, their shouts fading into the background as his eyes drop down to your mouth. You wait with bated breath for the flirty line that most men would deliver at this moment – but none comes. Instead, he stays silent, letting his eyes do all the talking. 

They roam over your features, blatant and bold in their quest. His smile falters, slipping into something with more intent and the warmth held in his eyes simmers to turn into something darker, hungrier. Your mouth waters in anticipation, your tongue gliding over your bottom lip, and you watch as he follows its path. 

His hand rests on top of your knee, encompassing it within his warm hold. The touch sparks a line of want that zips up the inside of your thigh to the damp crotch of your undies, a beat pulsing between your legs. It curls behind your belly button, pooling between your hips – a sticky slick ache that makes you press your thighs together. 

The corner of his lips tug upwards as if he knows. 

A chorus of groans declares you winners and he squeezes your knee in victory, his eyes still on yours. 

11:59pm

“FIVE! FOUR!”

The cheer of the guests counting down is deafening, and you wince at the sound even while shouting yourself. Din’s arm drapes around your shoulders, the weight of it keeping you tucked along his side as he protects you from being crushed.

“THREE! TWO!”

Lifting your drink into the air, you grin up at him when he does the same. Couples around the room turn to each other, and you tip your chin upwards, your cheek fitting into the crook of his shoulder. He looks down at you, his arm tightening in its hold and it’s like a magnet pulling your mouths towards each other, anticipation building to a breaking point. 

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

The room explodes in cheers and shouts, and he leans down to meet your mouth with his. 

It’s a firm, sure kiss; his lips softly molding to yours. You savor it, pushing up on your toes to prolong it and when you pull back, you notice micro-expressions flit over his face: his eyes brightening before darkening with want, his lips pursing like he’s already missing the press of yours. He bends to kiss you again, and when his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, sparks burst and skitter through your limbs like the fireworks exploding outside. You lean into it, throwing your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into the curls at his nape and the strength and surety of his hold lifts you upwards, your toes skimming the floor, the wood underneath pulsing with the party.

No one notices when you slip from the room, or when he takes a bottle of champagne from a table as you pass it. No one notices when you climb the stairs, or when you slip into the last door on the right. Lost in their own celebration, the tune of Auld Lang Syne follows you down the hallway, the joyous melody muffled when he shuts the door behind you. 

“I thought maybe we could celebrate in here. Alone.” His voice is so much richer without the noise of the party competing against it, and the boldness of the statement makes you flush with heat. 

He takes a swig of champagne straight from the bottle and hands it to you, smiling when you do the same. The bubbles dance and burst on your tongue, similar to the feeling in your stomach when he pulls you in for a kiss. The flavor of the champagne is on his tongue, his mouth moving with intent and the music in the other room shifts to a heavier bass beat when he guides you backwards, his smile felt against your mouth. 

You hit the bed with a breathless laugh, the weight of his knee dipping the mattress when he crawls up over you and though you have felt the heat of him next to you all night, it’s nothing like how it feels when he settles his body on top of yours.

His mouth immediately meets yours and his hands are everywhere, grasping anything he can reach: sliding from his hold on your nape to caress the round of your bare shoulder. Slipping the strap of your dress down as his touch skates downward, palming the weight of your breast. You arch into his touch, your whine muffled by his hungry mouth and his hips rock forward into yours. Your thighs widen, your skirt falling up around your hips, and his hand continues its way south, curling around the plump curve of your hip with a squeeze. His thumb picks at the band of your panties, and you squirm, forcing contact between the heft hidden underneath his fly and the soaked, delicate fabric that covers your core. 

He’s hard – so hard, so thick with promise – and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat, smearing over the line of your collarbone before moving down to the swell of your breasts. You tug the collar of your dress down, an action that makes him stop – but only for a moment. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, husky and low, the words of reverence rumbling from his chest. Then he’s surging forward, cupping the weight of your tit in his hand, his mouth closing around the peak. The shock of warm wetness and suction when he pushes more of it into his mouth has you moaning shamelessly underneath him, your back arching to encourage the dull scrape of his teeth over your nipple. 

You push him back, your hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt, and he sits up on his knees, reaching back to tug it off. He tosses it onto the floor, immediately draping his body back over yours. Your dress and bra tugged down around your waist, the weight and warmth of his firm chest against yours is delicious and heady as he continues to kiss you drunk. 

Just as sure and competent as he was in the other room, he wedges his hand between your bodies and finds your clit with the pads of his thick fingers, rubbing it until you soak the crotch of your underwear with need. He can feel it, the sodden fabric slipping under his touch and he breaks your kiss, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His lips wrap around his fingers, a deep, satisfied groan pouring from his throat while you watch from underneath him, your jaw slack with want. 

Your intense need for him snaps, your pussy clenching as you watch him suck and you frantically fumble with his belt buckle, working it open. Your hand trembles as he helps you, his mouth capturing yours in another consuming, frantic kiss that has him eating at your mouth and when you pull him out together, your breathing hitches in your throat at the heft that smacks against your inner thigh. 

You try to look down, his broad chest blocking the view and it’s almost better that you can’t see it. There is something about the anticipation of it, the touch without the sight. You feel his hand wrap around the base of his cock, working to notch it at your entrance and when he breaks you open on the thick tip, you hold your breath, savoring it. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, your jaw clenching. Aching for it ever since you turned to face him in the kitchen, the filling weight of his cock is overwhelming, your body being forced to make room for it. The snug, slick fit has you whining underneath him, begging him for something he’s already giving you. 

“You feel so good,” you moan, and he gives you a smug look in return. His expression is laced with pride, his eyes hooded with arousal, his hips pushing forward until he’s in all the way down to the base. 

“So do you,” he breathes just over your mouth, and you pull him in for a kiss, needing his lips on yours. 

Expecting a fast fuck squirreled away in a bedroom that belongs to someone else, what you don’t expect is how intense it feels. His cock is a relentless, filling stroke that claims, his mouth breaking contact only when he wants to watch: his dark eyes trailing over your open mouth, your bouncing tits, your pleading expression. 

And then he’s back on you again, filling you deeper, harder. 

Your fingers weave into his sweat damp curls, keeping him close. The muscles in his torso shift against your own, highlighting the hidden strength held in them. His thighs spread for purchase, forcing yours open wider and his hand grasps handfuls of your bottom and of your hip to keep you in place underneath him. Knowing you have to be somewhat quiet, you drink each other’s moans. 

You hear another couple stumble down the hallway – a thud against the wall followed by a loud laugh. The door knob jiggles and his hand clamps over your mouth just as a throaty moan breaks free. You whine into the humid curl of his fingers, and when the people outside jiggle the doorknob again, Din picks up his pace. 

He fucks you: the weighted press of his body paired with the weighted press of his hold has you forced to take it, and when the couple outside moves on with a loud laugh to find their own private bedroom, he slips his hand off your mouth, fisting the bedding next to your head instead. 

“Sorry,” he pants. “Didn’t want them to hear you.” His mouth rests next to your ear, his scruff tickling the delicate skin of your neck. “Those sounds are mine,” he breathes. 

The sweet sentiment paired with the filthy confession flings you over the edge of your release, your body curling around his as a means to ground you. You want it all: the sweaty press of his bare skin, the softness of his curls, the humid press of his mouth. He fucks you right through it, restraint etched into his jaw. 

“I want you…,” you start, your voice syrupy and slow, still quaking with aftershocks. “I want you to come.” 

“I’m going to,” he warns, his elbows resting on either side of your face, his hand curling around the crown of your head. His lips brush against the apple of your cheek, dot the tip of your nose and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in, his hips never ceasing. “You’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet, I’m gonna come.”

His voice has your eyes closing tight, his breathless pants for air making you pulse around his cock. The sounds he’s making are filthy – the filthiest coming right as he does. 

He pulls out, but just barely – his hips slam against yours a couple of times: deep strokes that have you keening on his cock and just as his body tenses up with a deep groan that rumbles his chest against yours, his hips snap back, slick smearing from his cock along the inside of your thigh as he spends himself along the soft skin. Bracing himself on your hip, he closes his eyes tight and you take in the way he looks above you: desperate, beautiful. Hot spurts of his release pool on your skin, on the fine hair that dusts your pussy, and on the sheets underneath you – which has you wondering, for the first time, who’s room this is. 

His pulse thrums underneath his tanned skin, and you ignore that line of thought, instead tipping your chin up to capture the beat in a kiss. 

You hear him smile, and feel his body relax on top of yours. He hums with contentment, and finds your mouth with his own, pulling you into a deep, sated kiss. 

“Happy New Year,” he breathes into your mouth. There is a beat of silence, his face shifting to nuzzle between your breasts. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, as if he’s starved for touch. 

Guiding his face to yours, you nip at his bottom lip, loving the way it makes him smile against your mouth. 

“Happy New Year.”

[mochinomnoms]

I'm curious about the dreams Idia was having about the reader.

(reference to this)

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

It's quite silly, really. Idia was never one to yearn for the touch, closeness, the affections of a person. He was fine, being alone. It was better this way. He could cope with his games and shows, online groups and friends filling the void. Besides, why would he want to drag another person into the Shroud curse? It already took one person from him, Idia couldn't stand doing it to another as long as it was up to him. Plus, he wasn't exactly prime boyfriend, let alone husband material (perhaps he did that intentionally).

So, Idia wasn't all too worried when he first started becoming friends with you. You were kinda weird, but a friend to introverts like him! Somehow always a wallflower, but always involved in the chaos of overblots and school. But, you were conscientious of his need for space and privacy; Ortho must have said something to you about his eating habits, cause you started bringing food other than chips, soda, and ramen cups for him to eat, like actual meals. You also liked to entertain Ortho, who liked when you drew silly designs on his plating, which is always a plus in Idia's book. You were sweet, like his favorite ramune soda. Despite having abysmal skills in gaming (which he was all too happy to make fun of you for) he liked having you as his support, watching him on the sidelines and being a cute cheerleader. In exchange, Idia lent you an old gaming computer and bullied tutored you in a few of his favorite games so you could be his squishy healer in raids.

But, he was a bit worried when he started feeling something more than platonic things for you. Then, he was exceptionally concerned when, at the first day of spring, Idia started coughing hydrangeas, which he managed to secretly keep under wraps from Ortho for a few weeks. No, he was downright mortified when, during those few weeks, night after night, he started having dreams of you.

They started off innocent at first: you on his lap, head on his shoulder, as he played the latest RPG. You murmured words of encouragement, sleepily nuzzling your head into his. Another, he was in the board game club, where you cheered him on as he won a match against Azul in some luck-based game. Idia remembers giving Azul a smug smirk as you threw your arms around him and pressed kisses into his cheek. He even faintly remembers one where you simply sat with him in class, fingers lacing through his in comfort as he dealt with the anxiety of being out and about.

It wasn't until he was a week in when the dreams, infested with hydrangea bouquets always at the corner of his eye, that he knew he was utterly screwed beyond belief.

It started off sweet, at first. This time, you were with him at Styx, though you looked a few years older and were wearing a similar uniform to his mother. He was wearing the uniform as well, though it more closely resembled his father's. He was now Styx head, and you, his precious little wife. The domestic stuff was fine, it made his heart rate spike up so much that Ortho questioned if he had a nightmare while sleeping, but it was fine he could deal. You did look cute… as you smiled up at him… leaned up to kiss his cheek… and whisper in his ear…

“Idiaaa~ What if I crawled under your desk and sucked you off? Do you think you could stay quiet? You can, can't you? For me~”

It was fuzzy, when he tried to remember it, but Idia remembers the heat pooling in his belly. Your hands trailing down his chest down to his hips. Your lips following after and pressing soft, slow kisses down and down until—

Idia's flames grew into a burning, hot pink as his face is in his hands the following morning. He'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable time (to him anyway, 3 am was reasonable), and woke up with that in his head? How was he supposed to function? How was he supposed to look at you, talk with you, when the last memory he had was a dream of you sucking him off???

It progressively got worse from there. It was a weird mix of erotically domestic scenarios. You, waking up to him in bed before work, riding him as you cooed sweet words. Another of the two of you heavy petting, his hands groping your ass as you curled your body into his, making out in his office before Idia had to run off to a meeting, leaving you pouting and telling him to, “Hurry back to your needy little wifey~” One of you cooking him breakfast in one of his shirts, before he bent you over the kitchen counter, after which you sat on his lap and hand fed him.

The last one that really freaked him out, which led to him further isolating himself until Ortho dragged him out to the nurse, was one where he woke up to you next to him in bed. You smiled the sweetest smile to him, whispering to Idia how much you loved him, moving over to press a trail of kisses from his lips, to his neck, down his chest and abdomen. Idia was anticipating the same follow-up from his first dream, especially as your hands reached to pull his briefs down before a soft whine, followed by a cry, interrupted you.

He had no clue what to think, as you make a surprised noise, smiling at him, as the following words left your mouth: “The baby's awake, guess we'll have to continue this later, huh?” Dream Idia giggled along with you as the two of you shared a kiss, watching as you rolled off the bed to the bassinet that he was just noticing. He watched as you cooed and murmured soft words to the small, blue-flamed haired baby, reaching their tiny hands for you. But it was the next sentence that bolted him from sleep into a dry sweat:

“Say good morning! Say, 'good morning' to your baba, my darling~”

Idia let out a screech as he flailed out of bed, tangled in his sheets. He was coughing up a storm of hydrangeas when Ortho flew in, panicked and already full of concern for Idia's health. It was then Ortho started insisting that Idia visit the infirmary, much to his chargin.

At least you'd never see him like this… right?

[adrienneleclerc]

Meet and Greet

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Single Mom! Reader

Summary: Y/N takes her 4 year old daughter to the Canadian Grand Prix to meet her favorite driver, Charles Leclerc

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, inaccuracies involving F1

A/N: i Don’t know if there are properly organized meet and greets but I’ve seen some videos on TikTok where drivers are at a table and they are autographing things so

Y/N and her daughter Vidia were online to meet Charles Leclerc.

“Mami, how much longer?” Vidia whined

“Bebé, te quiero, but It’s a long line to meet him, okay. Just be patient.” Y/N said and Vidia groaned. “Do you want chips? I brought you chips.” Y/N said looking in her bag and pulling out a mini bag of lays, opening it for her.

“Yay!” Vidia said and grabbed the bag and started eating. Half an hour later, they are finally in front of Charles Leclerc. Vidia is shaking her mom’s hand in excitement.

“Well hello, little one, what is your name?” Charles asked the girl.

“Hi, my name is Vidia.” Vidia spoke softly. Charles smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you Vidia.” Charles said, signing his photo and he looked up to see Y/N. “And what is your name?”

“Oh I’m Y/N.” Y/N replied.

“She’s my Mami!” Vidia said.

“Really? And where are you guys from?” Charles asked.

“New York. We’re here on vacation with my parents.” Y/N said.

“That sounds like fun.” Charles said.

“Mami, can i take a picture with him?” Vidia asked, looking back at Y/N.

“You have to ask him, princesa.” Y/N said and Vidia looked back at Charles with wide eyes.

“Yes, we can take a picture.” Charles said. “Is it okay if I carry her?”

“By all means go ahead, it will make her day.” Y/N said and Charles carried Vidia and Y/N snaps the picture. “Thank you so much, Charles.” Y/N said as Charles puts Vidia down and Vidia went to hold Y/N’s hand. “Good luck in practice.” Y/N was about to walk away when Charles stopped her.

“How about you guy stay at the Ferrari hospitality, I could give you passes.” Charles said.

“Yes! Di que sí mami, porfis.” Vidia begged Y/N.

“Ay vidia, espera. Charles, you Don’t have to do that.” Y/N said.

“But I want to. Anything for the cutest Ferrari fan.” Charles said squatting down to Vidia’s level. “What do you say, Vidia? Think you can convince your mom to go to the hospitality?”

“Mami, please, please, please, please, please, please.” Vidia begged.

“Okay, okay, we’ll go to the Ferrari hospitality.” Y/N said.

“Yes!” Vidia exclaimed. Charles went to Fred and he gave Charles 2 passes. Charles put the pass on Vidia and on Y/N

“There you go, I’ll meet you guys there.” Charles said. “Fred, can you show them to the hospitality?”

“Sure thing, follow me.” Fred said and he led the Y/N and Vidia to the hospitality where there is a couch, TV, and a little kitchen with food.

Carlos stared at Charles while he was signing things.

“What mate?” Charles asked.

“You like her.” Carlos teased.

“Do not.” Charles said.

“Cabrón, you’re a nice guy, but you are not that nice to give two people passes and say they can hang at the hospitality. You’re trying to get some Milf action.” Carlos said laughing.

“You are so vulgar.” Charles said.

“But you didn’t deny it. The mom is gorgeous thiugh, you should go for it, you haven’t dated anyone since Charlotte.” Carlos said.

“I don’t want her to think I’m being nice just to get in her pants.” Charles said.

“Aren’t you?” Carlos said.

“No! They came all the way from New York, I might as well give Vidia a good time at the Grand Prix.” Charles said.

“Okay then.” Carlos dropped the subject

Vidia was enjoying the hospitality, eating chicken fingers and French fries with her mom as Y/N called her dad.

“Hola papi. Sí, estoy con la niña en el hospitality de Ferrari, muy lindo por cierto. No sé cuánto nos vamos a demorar. Según esto, la segunda práctica termina a las 6 de la noche, pero luego hay las entrevistas con los pilotos y como Charles Leclerc nos dio los pases, no sé cuándo regresamos al hotel. Sí papi, estamos bien. Te marco luego, bye.” Y/N hung up on her dad. When she hung up, she saw Charles entering the hospitality.

“Charles!” Vidia said, getting off the chair to hug Charles. Charles hugged her back.

“Hello Vidia, how are you liking the hospitality?” Charles asked squatting down.

“The food is good.” Vidia said and Charles laughed.

“Yeah I bet it is, you were in line for a long time, you must have been hungry.” Charles said.

“Yeah, but mami carries chips in her bag.” Vidia said.

“Does she now?” Charles asked and Y/N got up to talk to them.

“Vidia hates waiting in line so I always carry snacks for her.” Y/N said and Vidia nodded.

“I hate waiting in line too, I get so bored.” Charles said and Vidia laughed. Charles stood up. “So why couldn’t your husband be with you today?” ‘Subtle, Charles’ he scolded himself in his mind.

“Ah, Vidia’s father is not in the picture.” Y/N said.

“How come?” Charles asked. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Nah it’s fine. He relinquished his parental rights, he said he wasn’t fit to be a father and he’s right.” Y/N said.

“Well practice doesn’t start for another hour, so you want to see the car?” Charles asked Vidia and she was jumping in excitement.

“Are you sure that’s allowed?” Y/N asked.

“I’ve done it before.” Charles said and they walked to the garage where the car was and Vidia was ecstatic, bouncing off the walls in excitement.

“Mami, mami, Can i please get in the car?” Vidia asked with wide eyes.

“Ask Charles, princesa, It’s his after all.” Y/N said and now Vidia gave charles puppy dog eyes.

“Sure thing, princess.” Charles said, lifting Vidia to place her in the car and he started showing her all the buttons on the wheel and what they do. “So Vidia, how did a little princess like you get into formula 1?”

“Mi abuelo! He’s a big fan of Fernando Alonso. Verdad que sí, mami?” Vidia asked.

“Yeah, my dad got me into racing when I was about Vidia’s age, watching Fernando Alonso race with Jenson Button. Obviously we are cheering for Checo too, but..” Y/N trailed off.

“You’re our favorite!” Vidia exclaimed.

“Really?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, really. I showed her your 2019 Monza race.” Y/N admitted.

“He won in Spa! He wins in Monza!” Vidia shouted in her best announcer voice and Charles just smiled and laughed, it was absolutely adorable having such a young fan.

“That’s was very good, Vidia, maybe you could be a commentator for Sky Sports.” Charles said.

“Maybe.” Vidia said. Charles helped Vidia out of the car and she ran to the couch to sit and look around.

“Thank you for this, Charles, she will probably talk about this when we see my dad.” Y/N said.

“How about I take you two somewhere after free practice.” Charles offered.

“Why would you do that for people you don’t even know?” Y/N asked.

“Is it so wrong to get to know a fan and her beautiful mom?” Charles asked flirtatiously.

“I guess not if you are really interested and not just looking to get your dick wet.” Y/N said and Charles put his hand on his chest.

“I would never, I don’t believe in one night stands, I’m a relationship guy.” Charles said.

“This isn’t PR?” Y/N asked.

“Just a guy really interested in a girl and wants to get to know her.” Charles said.

“I guess we have a date after free practice, with Vidia of course.” Y/N said.

“Even better!” Charles said looking back at Vidia who is snacking on Y/N’s purse chips.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! I’ve seen fanfics where Y/N is a mom but it’s always to a son, never a daughter, so I gave y’all a daughter.

[grapejuicenharry]

Based on this request.

warnings: body image struggles, plus size Y/N, h being a caring bf, smut, eating out.

a/n: I hope anyone reading this knows you’re beautiful, you’re enough, and so damn worthy of love. I love you!

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ YN stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Today, she and Harry were supposed to go to the beach, just steps away from the villa where they were staying. Harry had just finished his grueling tour, and after months and months of nonstop traveling, they both deserved a break. Though Y/N loved being by his side, supporting him city after city, it had been exhausting. Early flights at ungodly hours, constant hotel stays, meeting fans, and late nights had all taken a toll. Somewhere in the midst of it all, she had gained weight.

She had never had a model's figure. Long, sleek legs, a tiny waist, and a perfect zero-figure weren't part of her reality, and she'd been okay with that. Harry loved her just as she was, and most of the time, she felt the same. But being in a relationship with someone in the public eye—a celebrity surrounded by people who looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine—had its challenges.

Early on in their relationship, her insecurities had been nearly crippling. She would question why Harry, of all people, had chosen her when he could easily have been with a Victoria's Secret model. She'd dreaded date nights that called for tight dresses, knowing paparazzi would be lurking, ready to snap pictures that would fuel online trolls. The cruel comments about her curves, dips, and imperfections had, at times, driven her to delete social media entirely. It drained her, chipped away at her confidence.

Through it all, Harry had been her rock. He was unwavering in his reassurance, always reminding her that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He loved every inch of her—her stretch marks, her soft tummy, her thick thighs. The very things she'd once loathed, he cherished. He'd tell her over and over that the people behind the screens didn't matter, their words nothing but venom from people who didn't know her. To prove his point, Harry had deleted his own social media accounts, wanting to shield her from the negativity.

With time, therapy, and Harry's love and support, Y/N had begun to heal. She learned to love her body—her curves, her softness, the parts of her that made her unique. She started embracing her style, wearing figure-hugging dresses that made her feel powerful, slipping into bikinis at the beach just to see Harry's jaw drop. She even found herself smiling at her stretch marks, loving the way Harry would trace them with his fingers or kiss them as if they were works of art.

But today, as she stared at herself in her favorite blue bikini, those old doubts crept back in. She noticed the weight she'd gained—the way her fuller breasts sagged slightly in the top, how the stretch marks on her stomach seemed more pronounced, and the cellulite on her thighs more noticeable. Tears prickled in her eyes as she struggled to see the beauty Harry always claimed to see. Rationally, she knew these weren't flaws; they were simply parts of her. But in this moment, she wished she could make them all disappear.

“Love, you ready—?” Harry emerged, clad in his dark green bottoms. His face immediately frowning at the sight of her.

“Baby? What happened? Have you been crying?” He asks her, concern lacing his voice. 

She simply shakes her head while her eyes blurring with unshed tears. She didn’t want him to see her like this. 

Harry’s brow furrowed in concern as he crossed the room quickly. His large hand cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on.” He demanded softly, concern lacing his voice. 

Y/N simply shook her head again, trying to look away, but Harry wouldn’t let her. His thumb brushed away the tears that spilled over, his eyes boring into hers. “Talk to me, baby. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered gently, pressing a kiss on her forehead. 

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Bullshit,” His response was immediate, but his tone gentle. He glanced down at her body, his hands sliding down from her face to rest on her waist. “Is this about you in that bikini?” He guessed, and the way her eyes widened slightly gave her away. 

“I just… don’t feel good in it, okay? I’ve gained weight, and I don’t—“ Her voice cracked, and she turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. “I just don’t feel like… me anymore.”

Harry let out a long breath before coming behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Pulling her flush against her chest. “Baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Do you even know what I see when I look at you?”

She sniffled, shaking her head, unable to find words to reply. 

“I see the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my fucking eyes on,” He said, “I see the woman who drives me crazy every time she walks in a room. I see my woman. And you in this bikini?” He chuckled softly, his hands moving to rest on her hips. “You look so fucking good, it hurts. You think I’d let you go out in this without keeping my hands on you the whole damn time?” 

Y/N laughed weakly despite herself, her head falling back against his shoulder. “You don’t mean that,” she murmured. 

Harry turned her gently so she was facing him, his hands gently cupping her cheeks as his thumb stroked against her soft skin. “I do mean it. Every word. And if you’re thinking for one second that you’re not good enough, I swear to God, baby, I’ll spend all day proving you wrong.” 

Her cheeks flushed at the way his eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze making her shy and blush. “Harry…”

“No, don’t ‘Harry’ me.” His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned down, brushing a kiss to her lips before pulling back just enough to speak. “You’re mine, Y/N. Every inch of you. Every stretch mark, every curve, every little thing you think is a flaw? It’s mine, and I fucking love it.” 

Her heart swelled at his words. How could he love her so much? How had she gotten so lucky? He always seemed to know the right things to say, and this was exactly what she needed to hear from him. All of her insecurities slowly washed away.

“I love you,” she whispered before wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tight.

He held her just as fiercely, one hand cradling her head and the other gripping her waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go. 

“And I love you more, always,” he murmured back, pressing a kiss to her temple. Pulling back slightly, he gave a cheeky grin. “Now, are we gonna hit the beach, or do I need to spend the next few hours worshipping you here in this bikini until you see what I see?”

Her cheeks burned as she smacked his chest lightly, “Harry!” 

He just laughed, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You decide, baby. Either way, I’m not letting you go.”

Harry still remembers the first time he saw Y/N. She was standing in the front row at his concert, laughing and dancing with her friends. That pink, deep-neck top and sparkly mini skirt she wore had him hooked from the second his eyes landed on her. But it wasn't just her outfit—it was the way she carried herself, completely carefree, singing his lyrics that left him breathless. 

His gaze kept slipping back to her. Those thick, plush thighs, her curves that seemed to demand his attention, and those damn red lips. He never wanted to taste anything more in his life. Every time she twirled, her skirt would ride up just slightly, teasing him, and it took every ounce of control not to let his thoughts wander further. She had his undivided attention for the entire night, and she didn't even know it.

For the entire concert, his gaze kept slipping back to her. Looking at her swaying her hips and laughing without a care in the world. Even as he moved across the stage, his body gravitated toward her side. He wanted to make sure she was still there, still singing, still having the time of her life. By the end of the concert, he’d nearly forgotten there was anyone else in the crowd.

He didn’t waste any seconds before asking the security to bring her backstage. When she walked into that room, radiating that same infectious energy, he was gone. 

The moment she smiled at him, her voice like honey as she greeted him, Harry knew she was it for him.

  ༘ ˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚                                                                

The weather outside was perfect—a pleasant warmth filled the air, the sun shone brightly behind warm clouds, and the water was the ideal temperature. Summertime in Italy was Y/N and Harry’s favorite escape, their little getaway from the chaos of city life. 

They’d spent the last hour in the water, swimming and enjoying the water, though she was trying to swim while Harry found every excuse to keep his hands on her. Sue him; he couldn’t help himself. The sight of her in that tiny bikini hugging her wet body had driven him completely insane. 

After a while, Y/N was ready for a break. Tired from swimming, she decided to stretch out on a lounge chair, soaking up the sun and getting a tan. She perched her sunglasses on her nose, reclining in the chair to let the warmth kiss her skin. While Harry stayed in the water, enjoying himself. 

As she settled in, she noticed a group of girls nearby. They kept glancing her way—or, more likely, Harry’s—and whispering amongst themselves. She tried not to let it get to her, shaking off the usual self-conscious thoughts about her body. Instead she sank herself deeper into the chair, enjoying the sun. 

 ༘ ˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚                                                           

“You know,” Harry murmured, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush her ear, “you look absolutely breathtaking right now.” 

Y/N shot him a skeptical look, though her cheeks warmed at his tone. “Harry, you’ve said that like ten times today.” 

“And I’ll say it ten more,” he replied, his hand sliding down from her arm to rest on her bare thigh. His touch was slow and deliberate. He gave her skin a gentle squeeze; she felt her breath hitch. 

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“If we weren’t in public right now…” He mutters, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin. 

“You can’t just say things like that.” She shot him a look, half warning and half amused. She glanced around nervously, though no one seemed to be paying them much attention. 

“Oh, I can,” he replied, smirking as he leaned in closer, biting her ear. “And if we weren’t surrounded by all these people, I’d show you exactly how good you look in this. You have no idea what you’re doing to me, love.”

Y/N felt heat rush to her face, her cheeks burning under his words. She tried to maintain her composure, but at the rate her panties were getting damp, it was getting impossible. “You’re the worst,” she muttered, trying to bite back a smile. She sipped her piña colada, hoping the cool drink would help with the heat burning in her belly. 

“Am I?” He asked, his eyes glistening with mischief. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me later, yeah?” 

She shook her head at his words, laughing despite herself, and tried to swat his hand away. 

“Come on, let’s head back to the villa. I’ve had enough of sharing you with the rest of the world.” He said, standing and pulling her up with him. 

“Harry, we still have drinks—“ 

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” he interrupted. “Right now, I need you all to myself.” 

By the time they made it back to the villa, the tension was still thick between them. Harry wasted no time pulling her into his arms, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. Both of them rushing to tear each other’s clothes. His hand slid across her back, untying her bikini while he trailed kisses down her throat. “Fucking insane, your body is fucking insane.” He murmured between the kisses; he dropped to his knees while tugging her panties down, and his palm massaged the plush, soft skin of her tummy. “This, this belongs to me, baby.” He looked in her eye while teasing her. “And this perfect pussy...” He whispered before licking a long strip of her slit. “All mine.” 

Harry groaned against her skin, his breath fanning over her inner thighs as he gripped her hips, pulling her closer to his mouth. “You think for a second I don’t love every inch of you? These curves, these thighs, these marks—every bit of it is mine to worship,” he growled, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her stretch-marked hips. 

Y/N’s breath hitched as she tried to twist away, her insecurities bubbling up, but he tightened his grip, “Don’t you dare, love,” he rasped, his eyes flicking up to hers. “You don’t hide from me. You’re so fucking beautiful I can’t breathe.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, a mix of vulnerability and overwhelming affection. "Harry," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I just... I don't always feel like that. Not when I-"

He cut her off with a kiss pressed to the soft skin of her inner thigh, his lips lingering as if to silence her doubts.

"Then let me show you," he said firmly. "Let me prove it to you, baby. Every single day if I have to."

Her walls slowly crumbled, and she nodded, her fingers tangling in his curls as he returned his attention to her center. His tongue parted her folds, teasing her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. He kept licking her pussy while alternating pressing kisses along her inner thigh, sucking the soft skin, while taking her bud in his mouth, making her gasp loudly. “These thighs,” he murmured. Y/N could barely hear him as he was squished between her thighs, his voice muffled. “Drive me fucking wild, baby. I love feeling them around my head. Show me again, yeah?” 

She moaned as he dove back in, his tongue parting her folds, his own moans vibrating against her core. "Harry," she gasped, her voice breaking, "oh my God, that feels so good. Don't stop."

"Not planning to, baby," he murmured, between licking and sucking. His hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips as he pulled her ever closer. "You taste so fucking good. So perfect."

Her hand found his curls as she tugged on them when the pressure in her belly increased. Her legs shook as he worked her closer to the edge. “That’s it, baby,” he said, pulling back just enough to bite softly in her inner thigh, “Let me hear you; let me see how much you love this.” 

When she finally shattered, crying out his name, Harry stood, his lips slick and wet from her arousal. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently, knowing she was still coming down from her orgasm. Hovering over her, his lips met hers again, slow and deep, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

"You don't get to doubt yourself," he whispered, his hands skimming down her body, mapping every dip, every curve. "Not when I'm here to remind you exactly how fucking stunning you are." His mouth moved lower, taking his time, worshiping every inch of her, his voice a steady stream of praises against her skin. "This body is mine to worship. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

His lips wrapped around her nipple, his hand caressing her hip as he aligned himself with her, whispering against her chest, "Gonna show you how much I love every inch of you, baby. Over and over again."

[fratttymatty]

Streamed

(All characters are 18+)

Zane Matthews was a typical 18-year-old high school senior—lazy, a self-proclaimed liberal, and unapologetically gay. He had no particular ambitions, other than to survive senior year and maybe stream his favorite games for a small audience. Life was simple for him. He spent most of his time in his room, slouched in front of a screen, eating takeout and diving deep into the world of online gaming.

Zane's favorite pastime was watching his favorite streamer, Austin Steele, a 21-year-old jock-turned-streamer who had the kind of charisma that could light up an entire stadium. Austin was everything Zane wasn’t: athletic, outgoing, effortlessly charming, and very straight. Austin didn’t just play video games—he was a fitness buff who also lifted weights, ran marathons, and shared motivational advice with his massive following. It didn’t hurt that he had the kind of body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine.

On this particular night, Zane had just finished his homework (barely), grabbed a bag of chips, and decided to tune into Austin’s latest livestream. Austin was playing a game, his muscular arms flexing as he maneuvered his controller with the ease of someone who had mastered not only the game but also the art of streaming. His viewers adored him, especially when he would occasionally take off his shirt to reveal his chiseled abs, sometimes tossing in a wink or a flex to keep the chat buzzing.

"Yo, what's up, guys?" Austin’s voice crackled through Zane’s headphones. "Alright, let’s get this game rolling. We’ve got a long way to go tonight."

Zane smiled to himself, watching the screen with an almost hypnotic fascination. He'd never been one of Austin’s die-hard fans, but there was something magnetic about the guy. His life seemed so effortless, so full of energy and confidence. Zane sometimes found himself envious of Austin's persona, though he'd never admit it. He liked being alone, preferred his quiet, less demanding life.

But tonight, something strange happened.

As Zane watched Austin’s stream, he noticed that the chat was gradually starting to empty out. It was late, after all, and most people had already logged off. First, a few usernames disappeared, then a dozen, until finally, the stream was down to a single viewer: Zane. He glanced at the viewer count—1. Just him.

Austin, seemingly unaware that the stream had almost cleared out, kept chatting away, playing his game.

"Haha, well, looks like it’s just you and me now, buddy," Austin said with a grin, addressing Zane directly. "You still with me, man?"

Zane blinked, momentarily thrown off. He had been watching Austin's streams for months, but this was the first time he'd ever been the only viewer. A weird sense of connection washed over him. The loneliness of it all felt oddly intimate.

"Yeah, I’m here," Zane typed into the chat, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.

Austin’s eyes flicked to the chat, his smile widening as he read Zane’s message. "Nice, man. Glad you stuck around. You know, I don’t usually do this, but you seem like a cool dude. How about I show you something real cool?"

Zane raised an eyebrow. "Show me what?"

Austin leaned closer to the camera, his face half-lit by the glow of his computer screen. His muscles were more defined up close, his jaw sharp, and his confident grin never faltered.

"Let me show you what a real transformation looks like."

Before Zane could ask what he meant, Austin’s fingers moved in a practiced, deliberate pattern, tapping his screen in a way that seemed almost ritualistic. A soft hum filled the audio, vibrating with a strange energy. Zane’s heart skipped. Something was off, but at the same time, his curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward.

The screen flickered, the room around him becoming dimmer. Zane tried to pull his focus away from the screen, but there was something hypnotic in Austin’s voice.

"Just relax, man. You’ve been watching me for a while now, right? You know I’m all about hard work, fitness, success. And I think… I think it’s time for you to see what you’re really capable of. Just let go of who you think you are, and let me show you the real you."

Zane’s eyelids grew heavy, and a strange warmth spread through his chest. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, not really knowing what to do with them. His head swam, and the words Austin spoke seemed to fill him, until they were the only thing that mattered.

"Let’s take you from here… and make you into something greater. Something stronger. Something… better."

With a final, sharp breath, Zane closed his eyes. The warmth that had been building inside him suddenly surged, crashing through his body like a tidal wave. His skin tingled, then burned, as though his very cells were being rewritten.

When Zane opened his eyes again, everything was different. The first thing he noticed was the way the air around him felt—thicker, more charged, as though his body had become a conduit for some unseen force. He raised a hand to his face, only to find that his features were sharper, more defined. His cheekbones were higher, jaw stronger. His entire body felt different—taller, leaner, more powerful. He instinctively flexed his arms, feeling the muscle beneath his skin.

He stood up, looking in the mirror across his room. Staring back at him was not the skinny, slightly awkward kid he used to be, but a completely different person—a tall, chiseled young man with a muscular frame, broad shoulders, and abs that could rival any fitness model’s. His hair was tousled perfectly, dirty blonde, falling in effortless waves that added a kind of raw, athletic charm to his appearance. It was the kind of hair that begged to be touched, full of that "I woke up like this" vibe, and it suited him perfectly.

But the most jarring change wasn’t physical. It was the way he felt—there was a new energy, a hunger to be the best, to prove something, to conquer. The Zane who had been shy, introverted, and uncertain had disappeared. In his place was a straight, athletic, and undeniably confident jock—someone who thrived on the attention and admiration of others.

He looked at himself in the mirror, his body rippling with strength as he flexed his arm again. The reflection staring back at him was now someone else—someone who could easily dominate the social scene, someone whose looks and charm were magnetic. This new version of Zane—who now silently thought of himself as Carter Steele—felt so at home in this body that he didn’t even think twice about the change.

Carter Steele stood tall, his new body brimming with confidence. He turned back to his computer, pulling off his shirt without thinking. He loved the way the cool air felt against his bare skin. With ease, he set up a new stream under his new identity. His fingers moved quickly, his body naturally relaxed as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

He was confident, charismatic, and ready. Within minutes, the viewers began flooding in, drawn by the raw magnetism of Carter’s athletic physique and the new, confident aura he now projected. The chat exploded with compliments, cheers, and flirtatious messages—mostly from jocks and cheerleaders from school, who had never paid him much attention before. They were drawn to him now, as if they’d always been waiting for him to become this version of himself.

"Looking good, bro!" one of his old friends messaged in the chat. Carter typed back without hesitation, a cocky smile on his face. "Thanks, bro. Been hitting the gym hard."

His old self—Zane, the lazy, slightly awkward gamer—was gone, replaced by Carter Steele, a popular, straight, athletic, and incredibly confident jock. As he leaned back, enjoying the instant attention he was receiving, he couldn't help but flex his abs for the camera. His chest swelled with pride, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Carter Steele had arrived, and he couldn’t care less about who Zane had been.

This was the life he was meant to live.

Carter Steele's streaming career was booming. His channel was flooded with fans, mostly from school, who couldn’t get enough of his chiseled physique, cocky attitude, and the way he effortlessly dominated not just the gym, but every social circle around him. He was the classic "high school king" with a fanbase that adored him for his confidence and presence.

Of course, his popularity wasn’t just because of his athleticism—he’d also gained a reputation for his no-nonsense, unapologetically conservative views, which were often a topic of discussion on his streams. He didn’t hesitate to voice his thoughts on anything and everything, including the culture he found "too soft" and people he felt needed to "toughen up."

And tonight, like most nights, he was streaming from his room, shirtless, his muscles gleaming under the lights as he played his favorite game. Mia, his new girlfriend, was perched on his lap. She was everything he needed to look good—pretty, bubbly, and a little ditzy. Her blonde hair bounced as she giggled, her hands playfully running through Carter’s abs as the chat lit up with comments about how perfect they looked together.

"Heyyy, guys!" Mia chirped, her voice overly sweet and high-pitched. "I’m Mia! I'm, like, so excited to be on the stream tonight with my hottie." She giggled again and leaned back against Carter’s chest, her body naturally curling into his as she flashed a peace sign to the camera. "Like, totes happy to be here."

The chat exploded with comments like “#couplegoals” and “perfect match,” but Carter wasn’t one to get carried away by compliments. He grinned, flexing his bicep a little just to show off.

Mia continued, completely unaware of how she came off. "I, like, have to say, though," she giggled, "there’s, like, soooo many people out there who just can’t take a joke anymore. Like, everything’s offensive now. Ugh, it’s, like, so lame."

Carter chuckled darkly, his fingers hovering over the controller as he shot a quick glance at Mia. "Yeah, for real. It’s like, everyone’s so sensitive these days. People need to learn how to, like, take a joke, you know? I mean, who cares if someone has an opinion? It's like, just don’t be a whiny little snowflake about it. You don’t have to agree with everyone. That's what’s wrong with the world today—too much of this 'everyone’s equal' crap."

Mia nodded, her lips pouting cutely as she leaned closer to Carter’s chest. "Yeah! Like, totally, right? And, like, I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but I just think it’s, like, weird when people try to, like, push their agenda on everyone. I mean, I’m, like, super chill, but some things just, like, shouldn't be a thing, you know? Like, it’s just so awkward when people act all like, ‘Oh, you have to accept me’ and blah blah blah. Like, no, honey. You do you, but don’t expect me to agree with it, okay?"

Carter’s smirk deepened. He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, the way it fell naturally into place making him look even more "effortlessly cool." "Exactly. Like, do whatever, but don’t expect me to give a damn. Some things just aren’t natural, and people need to accept that. Like, if a guy wants to, I don’t know, wear makeup or whatever, sure, but that doesn’t mean I gotta like it. Like, I'm not here for that nonsense."

"Totally, babe!" Mia giggled, playing with a lock of her hair. "It’s, like, yikes, right? It’s just so—ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it. Like, I’m fine with people doing their thing, but, like, don't, like, force it on other people. Like, some people just need to chill and stop trying to get everyone to agree with them. It's, like, so not a vibe."

Carter laughed, clearly enjoying the attention from both the camera and Mia. He flexed his abs again for the viewers, trying to show off, but he also enjoyed making bold, dismissive statements. "I hear you, babe. People are just way too caught up in trying to make everyone think the same. There’s a line, and if you cross it, you just look like a joke. It’s simple: you do you, but don’t make me do you. It’s like, if someone’s gay or whatever, I don’t care. But don’t come at me with all that nonsense like I’m supposed to act like it’s all normal. You know?"

The chat was a mix of comments: some applauding him, others questioning the boldness of his statements. But Carter didn’t care—he knew the people who followed him loved his no-holds-barred approach. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the ones who shared his views—they were all still watching. That was all that mattered.

Mia giggled again, leaning in and whispering into Carter's ear. "Yeah, like, totes. And I don’t, like, mean to be rude, but it’s just so annoying when people get all, like, ‘Oh, you have to be okay with it.’ Like, no, I don’t. Sorry, not sorry, right?"

"Exactly," Carter said with a confident chuckle, giving Mia a playful squeeze. "It's like, you’re not my boss. You don’t get to tell me how to live or what to think. I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m all in with your ‘new world’ crap, you know? People need to suck it up, grow a spine, and stop being so damn sensitive. Life’s too short for that."

Mia nodded, smiling up at him with that ditzy, innocent expression, oblivious to the controversy. "Totes agree, babe. Life’s, like, so much easier when you just don’t give a crap about what other people think."

The chat continued to pour in—some laughing, some not so happy about what was being said, but Carter and Mia didn’t care. They were in their own bubble, high on their own self-confidence and their views. Carter loved the attention, the validation that came with his "alpha" status, and Mia loved being by his side, playing the role of the cute, supportive girlfriend.

Carter adjusted himself in the chair, his gaze cool and unfazed. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to feel good about himself. He had everything he wanted—strength, popularity, and a girlfriend who never challenged him.

"Alright, guys," Carter said, giving the camera one last wink, "We’ll catch you later. And remember, stop being soft. The world’s tough—learn to deal with it."

The stream ended with the usual flood of comments and emojis, but for Carter, this was just another night at the top. He had everything figured out, and nobody was going to change his mind about anything.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader meets up with nick for a little ice-cream date.

you stare down at the phone in your hands, the nae of the ice-cream parlour glowing brightly on the screen. after a moment, you look up at the sign in front of you, chewing the inner skin of your cheek as you double check that you're in the right place.

the words match perfectly, and the photo you found online mirrors the shop exactly. yet, as you scan the area and look through the clear windows, your heart sinks — there's no sign of nick anywhere.

panic rises in your chest, and you instinctively take a hesitant step back, ready to bolt until a loud, familiar voice yells from behind you, cutting through your spiralling thoughts.

you turn, your pulse quickening as you catch sigh of nick tumbling out of an uber, his foot catching on the curb. he stumbles dramatically, throwing an exaggerated glare at the ground as if the concrete were to blame for his mistake before adjusting the strap of the tote bag slung over his shoulders, striding towards you with a grin spreading across his face.

"sorry," he apologies to you immediately, and you open your mouth, prepared to reassure him that it's no big deal, even though you're not quite sure what he's apologising for. but he continues, "uber took like eight wrong turns to get to this fucking place, i thought i was getting kidnapped. so, it's his fault i'm late. you haven't been waiting long, right?"

"no," you reply with a shake of your head, managing a small smile as the tension in your chest eases slightly. "i just got here too."

"thank god." nick breathes out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his mullet and adjusting his sunglasses before leading you toward the entrance, him mostly taking the lead while you follow closely behind.

as you step inside the parlour, the sweet aroma of waffle cones and fresh ice-cream greets you, and the air is filled with the cheerful chatter of other customers and workers. your stomach rumbles in anticipation of the treat ahead as you walk up to the counter beside nick, who is already scanning the colourful flavours displayed in the glass case.

his eyes widen as he points out various options, and you listen intently as he describes each flavour and shares how some are more sweeter than others, how chocolate chips taste better with these flavours, and how this flavour is better plain.

after considering the options, you finally settle on strawberry and vanilla. nick chooses bubblegum, the bright blue swirls matching the stripes on his shirt and the lenses of his sunglasses which makes you smile softly, and you feel even more relaxed when nick takes charge of ordering what you both want, allowing you to stand beside him in silence.

as nick pays for the ice-creams, you immediately reach into your purse to grab the cash you set aside, but he scoffs and sways your hand away as if you've just offended him, insisting that he's fine with buying and your cheeks warm at his generosity.

with the ice-cream cups in hand, you follow him to a cosy corner of the parlour, settling down into the booth opposite each other. you grab your plastic spoon, swirling it through the creamy ice-cream before taking your first bite.

"right?" nick grins as he sees your reaction; your eyebrows raising and eyes widening at how delicious it is. "i told you. this place is fucking magical."

you take another spoonful, trying your best to keep the conversation flowing. "do you come here a lot?"

"sometimes, but there's this one dessert stall in the city that's just as good. makes the best chocolate fudge and cherry sundae," he explains to you, and you perk up a little but, knowing exactly which place he's talking about.

"i like that one too."

he raises his eyebrow, "you know it?"

"yeah," you hum softly with a nod. "chris brought me there."

suddenly, nick's ice-cream filled spoon pauses halfway to his mouth, and he stares at you. you frown at his sudden silence, feeling the weight of his gaze, and you awkwardly take another bite of your ice-cream, your gaze flicking away as you struggle to handle being stared at.

nick lowers his spoon from his mouth, pointing it at you instead. "chris brought you to that dessert stall?" you nod your head slowly in response. "and he bought you one?"

"no," you reply, your voice steady but quiet. "he got one for himself but he let me try it."

"chris shared with you?" nick presses, seemingly baffled by this information. "like, we're talking one spoon shared between you two?"

"yeah," you nod again, chewing on your bottom lip as you gather your thoughts, admitting confusingly at this topic. "i.. don't understand what's happening right now."

nick just hums at that, his expression shifting as he takes a moment to process your words, studying you for a few seconds longer before he resumes in eating his ice-cream. now, you're stuck staring at him, wondering about the implications of his constant questioning while you mindlessly swirl your spoon around the cup.

"speaking of the city," nick begins, suddenly changing the subject, catching you off guard. "kitty and i are heading there this weekend, you should come—actually, neither of us are taking no for an answer. you are coming."

you chuckle lightly, your cheeks feeling warm as you ask, "why are you going?"

"i need to take photos for this project i'm doing for my class, and she needs to thrift some clothes and pick up other supplies for hers," he explains to you simply. "we're gonna make a day out if it, y'know? shopping, dinner, all that shit."

"i don't know.." you murmur, hesitation creeping into your voice.

"i'm not taking no for an answer," nick deadpans, blinking at you with feigned seriousness that makes you want to laugh. "our company is literally better than that frat house chris has got you cooped up in every weekend. you need a break."

you can't lie, a break does sound really nice. the overwhelming energy of the frat parties, filled with the frat brothers and other students, often leaves you feeling absolutely drained. and more often than not, you always find yourself retreating to chris' bedroom to get away from the chaotic mess when it gets too much.

"i'll think about it.."

"less thinking, more doing," nick counters, a grin spreading across his face as he leaves his spoon hanging from his mouth, his hands diving into his tote bag and you watch with curiosity as he pulls out his digital camera. "smile, bun. i'm taking proof of you finally leaving the frat house today. this is monumental as fuck."

© STURNIOZ

[fetishfairytales2]

Sissy School, Pt. 1 (Story)

"Aww, look at my wittle Brandi,” I cooed, grabbing her by the chin as she kneeled on the ground next to me, “all teary-eyed and whimpering. Don't be sad, my precious cupcake! Mommy has found the perfect place for you, thanks to all the amazing girlies in my online forum. They told me about this super special nursery, just for sissies like you! All their little girls go too! Daddy Conner's new promotion means I don't have to work anymore, but that doesn't mean I want you under my feet all day. So, Daddy and I decided it's time for you to go to Sissy School!"

I smiled, running my fingers across her cheek, and continued; "Today, we're going to tour your new school and you better show me your best behavior princess! You don’t want me to have to tell Daddy you were a bad girl, right?"

My poor little girl, she was trying so hard to nod and wipe away her tears while gagged with that cute pacifier. She's such a crybaby, always whimpering and sniveling. We pulled up to this seedy-looking abandoned strip mall, and almost missed it, with its tinted windows and black paint. It was right next to this wild knock off of Chip and Dales strip called 'Hunks’. I've had some wild nights there, let me tell ya! But this sissy kindergarten didn’t sound like it would be as fun for Brandi as the strip club was for me!

"Welcome to Hunks and Huggies!" I heard a bubbly voice exclaim as the door swung open. The college-aged girl smiling at us was hot. Her dark hair had the perfect beach waves, her skin was flawless, even her eyes sparkled! I just had to stare! God, some girls get it all, even her body was perfect! Her short black “Huggies and Hunks” crop top was so tight you could the outline of her nipples, and they're hard as rocks! The matching black short shorts were barely there. She was showing off her perfect ass and long, toned thighs. I might need to get this girl’s number later! If Brandi wasn’t gagged with her penis-paci I’m sure that little sissy’s tongue would be on the floor right now.

"I'm Ms. Becky!" She introduced herself with a smile, her perfect teeth flashing. "You must be Heather," she continued, giving me a quick hug, shit she even smelled amazing! "And this adorable munchkin," she leaned over and pinched Brandi's cheek, making my sissy squirm, "must be Little Miss Brandi! Why don’t you two come in, I’ll show you around!” She giggled, grabbing me by the arm and whisking us inside.

Stepping inside Hunks and Huggies was like walking into Brandi’s worst nightmare. The whole place was decked out in pastel pink and white, like a little girl’s nursery had exploded. Even the carpet was a somehow perfectly maintained pink! The walls were covered in pink and white stripes, and there was even a banner that spelled out “Welcome to Sissy School!” In building block letters! I had only seen the entrance so far and I just knew it was perfect! I could already see Brandi trembling in her diapers and sobbing behind her gag.

"This," Becky giggled, seeing my shocked expression, "is the main entrance. Our 'students' get to meet all four of us teachers here every morning!" There were more of her? Lucky Brandi! "That door over there," she pointed at a pink door with foam letters that read "Bad Girls Only," "is the detention room. Don't worry, I won't spoil the fun. Brandi will tell you all about it after her first visit!"

A terrified squeak came from my gagged little girl, who was definitely not into the whole 'detention room' situation. I giggled, loving how scared she was already. "Did you say Hunks and Huggies?" I asked, still taking in the over-the-top pink decor.

Before Becky could answer, we heard muffled cries from behind the 'Bad Girls Only' door. Brandi's trembling intensified, and I knew she was freaking out.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Becky said, her hand on Brandi's shoulder doing nothing to comfort her. "That sissy is being punished for very being naughty. But you're a good girl, right?" She looked at Brandi, who nodded frantically, too terrified to make a sound now.

Becky turned back to me with a mischievous grin. "Yes, Hunks and Huggies. The owner of Huggies Sissy School is an amazing businesswoman, she also owns the Hunks strip club next door! It provides some ahem unique benefits for us teachers." She leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear as she whispered, "And some not-so-fun benefits for the students, but we'll get to that later!"

"Let's continue the tour!” Becky giggled, taking my hand and leading me with excitement. Brandi was struggling to keep up, crawling pitifully on the fluffy carpet, her pigtails bouncing. "This is the playroom!" She announced with a bright smile. "I know you'll just adore it!"

As we stepped into the "playroom," I was in for a major surprise! No jungle gyms or swing sets here, but there were definitely some fun toys to play with. The room was so perfect! Of course it was painted in the same soft pink and white as the entrance hall, and had the same fuzzy pink carpet. But there were so many fun toys, it was going to make my little diapered cuck miserable! If my little Brandi didn't enjoy her nursery at home, she would absolutely hate playtime in this place.

"Our lucky little girls spend at least two hours a day in the playroom for recess," Becky giggled from the doorway, reading my mind. "As you can see...", she said nodding across the room.

In the corner of the playroom, there was this giant pink bouncer, the sort of thing every sissy nursery needs! And inside, struggling like a sad little bitch, was this naked sissy, covered in sweat and crying her eyes out. Her hair was a total matted mess, and her makeup was running down her face. The little bitch was such a hot mess! "Oh my god!" I laughed, "look at that cutie pie!" I pointed at the poor thing, all tied up and helpless. "She's just so adorable!" The bouncer bounced up and down, making her tiny chastity cage wobble back and forth. And she had the cutest clamps on her budding little sissy boobs that were little bells! They jingling with every bounce. So. Freaking. Cute! 

"Aww, why the long face, sweetie?" I cooed to the sobbing, gagged sissy, not really expecting an answer. “I’ve seen that look before, does she have a little botty-friend in?" I winked at Becky, who just shrugged and giggled. 

"Yup, this lil' sissy is gonna pop her cherry soon! Her mommy's new man is packing, so we're giving her the full prep treatment!" I glanced at Brandi, who was trying to disappear into the floor, probably thinking about the massive plug she had at home. Of course, this meant I would be buying her an even bigger one for school, but that could be a surprise for later!

Becky strutted across the room; “and this,” she said, flashing a cute smile, “is our toy box!” I watched excitedly as she lifted the lid of the most adorable toy box ever. It's pink and white, and even had a heart painted on the front! "Every princess needs her toys, don't ya think?" She asked, watching as Brandi's eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What do you think Brandi?”

Inside the box was a collection that would make any dom proud and sissy blush: so many different size paddles, some were leather, some were painted with girly designs, one even had “sissy” carved into it. I’m sure that would leave a mark! There were floggers and whips that promised a sting, and even the largest assortment of dildos I had even seen! “Don’t be jealous Princess Pampers,” I giggled at Brandi; “but I think they might have even more toys than you do!” I couldn’t help but hold some of the larger ones up just to show my sissy. There were a lot! There were so many colors, some were ribbed or had a point, others were realistic; they had veins! “I think you’ll have so much fun with these, Brandi!” I laughed, as she whimpered.

Becky flashed me a knowing smile before leaning over to speak to her future ‘student’. "Don't worry, Brandi,” she purred, “you'll be playing with these toys real soon." She points out a white rocking horse next to us, painted white with pink trim. It would have been perfectly innocent if not for the massive ribbed didlo in the saddle! "That one's gonna be a wild ride, girl!." She giggled, I could see Brandi's bottom lip quivering, the poor thing. "And check out that X-frame, it's just dyin' to have you." We all looked at the intimidating restraint, also pink of course!. "But first, let's go see my favorite part."

In the center of the room was an adorable yet cruel looking “crib”, if you could call it that. It was certainly a fucked up twist on a one anyway. It was painted pale pink and white to match the rest of the room, down to its pink sheets and blankets. But unlike any other crib I had ever seen, except the one Conner built for Brandi of course, it had a top on it like a cage! Inside, the crib were two, I had to assume, absolutely miserable sissies. Their faces were wrapped in diapers, and they were handcuffed on top of each other, struggling in a cute little 69..

"So, these brats were bugging Ms. Staci for diaper changes,” she explained with a smile. “We don't do changes here often, ya know? So, I guess Staci decided if they wanted out of their diapees so badly, they could wear them somewhere else instead! Of course, I'm not sure if it's their own messy diapees or someone else's, but it's fun, for us, either way!" She looked down sweetly as the trapped pair. "This crib is my favorite! Did ya know it can fit three sissies stacked on top of each other at once? It's way more fun when there's more crying and begging. You know, sharing is caring, right?"

“They’re wearing each other’s,” Another absolute bombshell, college aged girl said, standing in the doorway. She had the most striking features, long legs, and blonde hair. She was also dressed to kill in the same revealing outfit as Becky—short shorts that showcase her perfect ass, and a low-cut crop top with the "Huggies and Hunks" logo, leaving little to the imagination. I could see everything through the fabric of her shirt, which I’m certain Brandi would notice too! She added, absolutely full of disdain; "they're wearing each other's diapers. They'll keep 'em on until they clean 'em or fill their new ones. I’m Ms. Staci,” she smiled at me and then sneered at the sissy next to me; “who’s the new loser?

I introduce my pathetic ex, "This loser here is Brandi." Staci gave Brandi a once-over, clearly not impressed. I mean, who would be? Noticing their matching outfits, I ask, "do you girls always dress like this?" 

Becky shrugs, "Most days, but on 'Fun Friday,' we break out the sexy lingerie. Gotta give the sissies something to drool over, especially when they've been denied for weeks." I can't help but smirk, imagining Brandi's misery knowing she’ll be tormented by these hotties. It’s been months since her last sissygasm and won’t be getting to make cummies anytime soon either!

Becky claps her hands together excitedly; "Staci and I can give you the rest of the tour together and fill you in on our very strict rules." As we leave the room, she snickers; "you’ll see our girls in their uniforms soon enough. Every student is required to wear one!" On our way across the entrance hall toward a room labeled “Moviez 4 Sissiez”, Becky begins to run through a list of school rules. “All girls must be in uniform at all times, obviously. Dententions for being out of uniform are very harsh, also obviously. The girls must come to school each day with their supplies, which may change depending on the lesson, uhh…oh!” 

Becky turned to speak to Brandi directly, "Oh, and little one, you'll be on an exclusive 'cum-only' diet here!" The look on Brandi's face was priceless. I almost felt bad for her! She already eats a lot of cum at home, but at least I still gave her table scraps...for now. She winks at me, assuring; "we just ask mommies to save condoms from their real men. We've got plenty extra though, don't worry." Then, leaning in close to Brandi, she smiled; "you’ll never go hungry, princess. We'll keep you nice and full."

The theater room was honestly kind of gross. Staci confessed as we walked into the small room; "this used to be a viewing booth in an adult bookstore when this whole place was a strip mall. We kept it nasty as a fun little tribute." I spot shelves filled with gay porn and femdom DVDs with titles that I’m sure made Brandi squirm. "Sissy's BBC Training" and "Mommy's Strap-On Slave." Magazines like “Rockhard” were stacked on shelves, and in the center of the room was another surprise for both Brandi and I.

A sissy, tied up tight, laid diapered wearing a pink frilly dress with a matching diaper cover. Of course, she had the most adorable paci strapped in her mouth. Another young beauty, a dominant sounding babe with red hair, was standing behind her. This new teacher was holding the sissy’s head in front of the screen with one hand and holding a vibrating wand to her diapered crotch with the other. “Don’t you dare look away you fucking loser!” She was laughing each time her diapered prisoner tried to turn her head away or close her eyes. “Ooh!” The ginger bombshell giggled, quite literally prying the poor, helpless loser’s eyes open, forcing her attention back to the recording; “this is my favorite part!”

On the screen, is the most perfectly round ass I had ever seen. I was jealous and turned on! Oh gawd, It's tight and firm, totally spankable. It making my mouth water, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to the poor thing having to watch, or even Brandi! "Hey there, sissy," a sexy voice cooed from the recording. "You always loved my ass, huh? When you were my big stwong husband, you used to love watching this ass bounce on your cock didn’t you? Now that you’re a wittle sissy, I guess you’ll just have to watch it bounce on someone else’s…” The owner of that incredible ass turned and winked at the camera; a 30-something with the deepest blue eyes and her blonde hair in a high ponytail. I think she was about to put on a show.

“Sometimes,” Staci whispered, clearly enjoying herself, “a mommy will send us their ‘home movies’ to share with the class or just to torment their cucks. This one's getting a private show." With a giggle, the woman on screen bent over, revealing a sexy, heart-shaped tattoo on her lower back, just above her perfectly toned butt. She crawls onto the bed, her long, toned legs on full display and beckons off camera with a playful finger and a moan. In the corner, I could just make out a very well-built black guy. Wow, the only thing bigger than his muscles was his dick! This girl was very lucky! He had his massive black cock in his hand and stroked it slowly. The blonde teased him, wiggling her ass. I could hear the gagged sissy in the center of the room whimpering and crying. 

"You ready big boy?" she teased, looking back at the camera with a wicked smile while talking to the bull. "Come and get it, baby. You own this pretty white ass now..." This really got the waterworks going from the helpless cuck watching, the redhead doubled her efforts and held firm, forcing her charge to watch as the scene heated up. The hunk didn’t need any further instructions, stepping behind her and the whole room watched as the blonde’s eyes went wide and she moaned. “Ooooh, fuck! Ooh! Jesus baby, y…you’re big!”

“Let’s leave her to enjoy the show,” Becky smiled, closing the theater door, “and let’s go see the classroom. Hmm?” She asked, smiling down at Brandi. The poor thing turned pale and tried to protest, but I grabbed her pigtails, giving them a rough tug, pulling her behind me. She cried softly as we followed Ms. Becky's click-clack heels down the hall. "Almost there, loser," Staci giggled, stopping in front of the door to speak to Brandi. "This is, like, my favorite part! We show you all the awful shit we’re going to do to you and you can’t even stop it! You're gonna hate it, I promise!" I could see Brandi's knees shaking. Poor, dumb little thing.

Ms. Becky dramatically flung open the door with a smile and pushed Brandi inside. "Welcome to class, Brandi," she giggled. "You’re gonna have so much fun!" The room was the most fucked up thing I had seen so far, and I mean that in the best possible way. Everything, and I mean everything, was pink! The walls, the carpets, even the damn windows. 

"Oh, Brandi, look at that! They really went all out with the color scheme," I mocked as she sobbed at my knees. "But just wait till you see the lessons they have planned for you, my little sissy baby." I giggled, noticing the pink chalkboards and the lessons written on them. "Cock Sucking 101, hmm?” I teased, reading the board off to her; “oh, I just know you’ll get an A+ in that! You’re a great little cocksucker! We all laughed watching Brandi crumble to the floor, sobbing like the pathetic little girl she is.

"Aww, does my wittle sissy need a time-out already?" I teased, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her up. "But we just got here! Oh my, look at these!” I could hear Brandi groan and whimper as I dragged her towards the center of the room; “aren’t these just the cutest little desks and chairs! How adorable!" I giggled, pointing at the ribbed dildos attached to each chair. “You’ll definitely be sitting pretty, won’tcha Princess Pampers?” Brandi’s eyes went wide, she turned pale, and of course she instantly crumbled back to the floor. I just let her be. After all, she had plenty of time to enjoy her new school! The cutest touch was the name tags on the desks. Pink of course, written out in girly handwriting, the “I’s” all dotted with little hearts, so precious! Of course, the names were my favorite; I could see “Sissy Slut,” “Jizz Breath,” and “Cumbucket”! I hope Brandi got such a cute nickname!

The walls were just as extra as the rest of the classroom. There were huge posters of hunky half naked men covered with lipstick marks, pictures of gorgeous women naked but pixelated of course, and a cute full length mirror with the phrase, "who's the queerest of them all?" written in hot pink lipstick in the corner, Becky stood to the side, clearly proud of her workplace! "This," she giggled, "is where the magic happens. Where we transform whiny boys into obedient baby bitches! As you can see…”

"Check out these two cuties!" I exclaimed in giggles, noticing what Becky was pointing to. I pulled Brandi up and pointed at the two sissies kneeling in the center of the room, surrounded by the pink desks. They were dressed to impress in the cutest little schoolgirl outfits. Their plaid skirts were way too short, showing off their pink Huggies pull-ups, their eyes were were covered with pink blindfolds, their hands trapped behind them with pink cuffs, and their pigtails were held by matching pink bows! And I absolutely loved their crop tops with "sissy slut" in glitter across their chests, of course.

"Oh, Brandi, honeybun, aren't they just adorable? I can't wait to see you all dressed up just like them!" I mocked, knowing how much he hated this. "Don't you just love their fashion sense? I bet you're dying to join their little sissy club, aren't you?" I teased, as Brandi's sobs turned into desperate whimpers.

Staci knelt next to Brandi and wiped away the sobbing little sissy’s tears. I think she was having almost as humiliating Brandi as I do! I knew I was going to like her! "These are your Sucky Exams, princess,” I could barely hear her whispering over Brandi’s sniffling; “you’ll take them every week! The goal is to be the first little girl to make your man cum. If you're a good girl and pass, you get a fresh diapee! But if you fail, well...let's just say you'll find out in the detention room!"

“Sucky exams…?” I asked, before the classroom door opened again. I was in awe as two tall, chiseled hunks, with arms the size of Brandi's thighs and cocky smiles walked in. Oh, they were hot! I think Brandi was so scared she may have pissed herself just seeing these two! “Oh,” I giggled, almost to myself, “sucky exams!” These two wasted no time, each one grabbing a sissy by her pigtails and pulling her towards their bulging package. Brandi's eyes widened watching as these two little sissy sluts were about to be used for their intended purpose.

The sissies, now reduced to a trembling mess, opened their mouths defeatedly and allowed their throats to be invaded. “Look at them go,” Staci giggled over Brandi’s shoulder, watching the helpless sissy being throatfucked deep and hard. I could barely hear her over sounds in the room. “Look at the eye contact,” Staci giggled wickedly, “and listen to all that moaning, they’re such good little sluts!” 

“You lucky little girl, getting to watch,”  Becky had leaned over Brandi’s other shoulder now; “look at them, even through all the tears, being the best little sissy pornstars they can be! Ya know, with Hunks right next door, there’s, like, an endless amount of dicks you’re going to suck, every day!” Even over sissies’ muffled moans and the wet, slurping noises, I’m sure Brandi could hear each word; “we hope you’re excited for your first day of school!”

[httpknjoon]

surprise, surprise | jjk

plot | When you asked what your boyfriend wants for Valentine's, Jungkook challenged you to surprise him. But when you did, he wasn't the only one surprised.

words | 2.1k+

genres | fluff,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

warnings | none

note | another part will follow :)) enjoy reading!

main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist

It was a late afternoon, during a warm sunny day, you and your boyfriend finally went on with your picnic plans after weeks of talking about it. Under a lush shade tree, Jungkook laid out your classic red gingham picnic blanket. He also has pillows from his place, knowing that you would love to have one while chilling. On the flip side, you brought out the food from your basket which includes various colorful sliced fruits, sandwiches, chips, orange juice, and a bottle of chocolate syrup if ever your boyfriend wants to put it on his fruit.

It has been past an hour since you arrived at this spot in the park, half an hour away from the city you and Jungkook live in. So, with no worries about seeing your friends around, you two were free to basically do whatever you wanted on the grass. Jungkook brought his digital camera and you were already sure that half of the photos he took today are Bam’s. You were just giggling when you saw Jungkook trying to make your pet stand still with his green toy ball and sounds he learned from The Dogist, a dog photographer who posts every dog he meets online.

“One more, Bam. Stay…” he commanded as he closed his left eye to focus on his camera’s viewfinder. 

Your pet, eager to have a treat and his toy, heeded. Followed by a shutter sound, you hear a satisfied chuckle from your boyfriend. He handed Bam a treat and then threw the ball for your pet to run after.

“How was it?” you asked, sipping on your glass of orange juice.

Jungkook turned around in your direction and instead of answering immediately, you found him staring at you. Used to him dazing out sometimes, you just smiled and took another gulp from your glass. Jungkook took this opportunity to point his camera lens to you. He moved around, finding the best angle where the light makes you glow from your greenery background. You were an angel before his sight. He clicks for your candid shot. When you hear the first shutter sound, you realize what he is doing.

“Wait! Take another one.”

This time, you smiled for the camera, making him smile behind the lens. After a couple more shots, he sat next to you to show you the results. By the small sound of awe you made, he knew you loved them.

“You’re such a great photographer, babe,” you told him.

“I just have a very beautiful muse,” he replied.

You looked up at him and he laughed when he saw your eyebrows scrunching together. Perhaps it was too corny and sweet. But your scrunched expression softened up before giving him a peck on his lips. He was about to lean in for more but you pulled away with a smile.

“You used to get girls with those lines?” you teased and laughed.

And before Jungkook can defend his game, Bam runs back with his toy in between his teeth. Half an hour passed, and the camera was now in your hands while Jungkook lay his head on your lap, scrolling through his phone. Bam is napping on the grass beside you two, tired from playing. The weather was not too hot since there was still wind blowing from time to time, perfect for a midday nap. With no more energy to take pictures, you settled his camera down. For the next few minutes, you spent the time running your fingers on Jungkook’s hair and appreciating the peace of the place. You can feel your heart feeling at ease.

“I can’t believe we’re already in the second month of this year,” your boyfriend suddenly spoke, eyes still glued on his phone.

“I know, babe. It seemed like yesterday when we celebrated New Year’s Eve at Dara’s and our anniversary,” you replied. “Then, we told Blaire about us.”

He put down his phone with that, looking at you, “We didn’t tell her, you did.”

You just rolled your eyes since you know you cannot really defend yourself. You were too drunk that night, Jungkook had to tell you what you shared with your friend the morning after. And after a whole-day conversation with Blaire, she agreed to not say anything about it and simply called you two “sneaky rats” in a teasing way.

“Anyway, Valentine’s Day is next week.” Jungkook brought up the topic, sitting up. “Do you want to do anything or go anywhere?”

“Well… we already did this picnic.” you clicked your tongue as your eyes traveled away, thinking. 

And after a few seconds, an idea pops into your head. An activity you saw online that you found cute and perfect for you two. You beamed as you told him about it. Jungkook nodded as he listened intently, eyes traveling down his tattooed knuckles.

“I love that, we can do that! That’s wonderful, princess.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Do you already have any ideas about the design?”

You shook your head, “Oh, not yet.”

“Okay, okay.” he nods again,

You squeeze his hands, “How about you? What do you want to do?”

He looked up at the leaves on the tree as he sighed, “I don’t know… Really. That’s why I asked you. What you want is what really matters to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Really? Nothing?”

He nodded his head but not a second after, he spoke again, “Okay, I have an idea.”

“Okay, spill.” 

“Surprise me,” he said like it was a challenge.

“Surprise you?” you repeated.

Looking back at your relationship, you were a little weak at doing surprises. You cannot really lie well and always see his reaction when you get him something meant for a surprise. But maybe you can try again.

“Okay, babe.”

“Isn’t this sad?” Wooshik sighed in between the film playing on the television. “It’s the day before Valentine’s. We are both single straight guys, watching Meryl Streep boss around people because we don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he added.

I do, Jungkook said in his head. Today is the thirteenth. It has been days since you two went on that picnic and he has been secretly waiting for your surprise. You didn’t want to give him a spoiler about it since you both know how bad you are at lying. So, you didn’t give him even a single clue.

And since it’s the day before that day, you and the girls in your friend group went out for your Galentine’s Day. You told him your activities for the day, which included going to a baking class and pampering yourselves in hair and nail salons. So, in return, he and Wooshik are pretty much shooed away when the latter begs to come with them.

“It’s for girls only! Go hang out together,” Jenny laughed. 

So, they did. Initially, they planned on playing video games in Jungkook’s place. But after two hours of playing and having succeeding losses, they got exhausted and opted to watch a movie. The streaming service recommended a lot of chick-flicks so that’s what they settled for.

“This is fine. The girls are single too. A lot of people are spending tomorrow single.” he noted, focused on the film.

But Wooshik exclaimed, “But love is in the air! I don’t want to be lonely. Maybe we should pull up at a bar or something. Maybe we can have dates tomorrow.”

“I told you, I’m not into those things anymore.”

“Those things?! It’s called dating, JK. So you’re not into dating now?” Wooshik asked his tone in disbelief. Jungkook just laughed at his dramatic reaction. His friend continued, “What happened to my friend who used to introduce me to his new girlfriend every two weeks?”

Jungkook tossed him a pillow, smacking it right to his face, “Hey, people change!”

“You used to hold the record for most partners in a year in our friend group, JK.” Wooshik snickered.

“And now, I don’t. I’m happy where I am right now.” 

“Blablabla. That’s something a person with a great high-paying job or a nice love life would say. And I don’t think your job pays you that high for you to say that.” Wooshik quipped while watching the movie again.

Jungkook laughs. He’s right. But Wooshik is not aware of how fun he is having with you. Your friend doesn’t know how much you made his life more than nice. You made his days a lot more warmer and brighter than it has ever been.

“And the girls are not really single. Jenny said she will be busy tomorrow–”

“She is. She works as a head chef in a restaurant. Tomorrow is like a festival in her workplace.” Jungkook cuts him off. 

His friend snickered, “Okay, but she’s going on an occasional date with that same guy she met at a food convention. Blaire is having an on and off and on relationship with Grace. Dara is dating–”

“She is?” Jungkook asked.

Wooshik nods like it’s something he has known for a long time, “Yeah… and YN, I just know that one is seeing someone.”

Something in his stomach dropped when Jungkook heard that, “Yeah?”

“Remember when I stayed for like a week in her house when I had something renovated in my place? I swore I saw her sneaking out a guy one early morning.” his friend shared, clueless about the guy who was now sitting in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah, I just didn’t see him properly since the lights were off. But I heard YN talking to him.” 

Yeah, it’s him. 

Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Jungkook said, “You know what? Maybe we should go out.”

It’s like Wooshik’s ears perked up when heard that, “Where?”

“Just out. Maybe get something to eat or… I saw this new bowling alley opening up around the corner. We can walk there from here.”

Originally, Jungkook wanted to take you there first. But with his best friend being bored and talking about you and your relationship, he just thought of going to that place.

“Oh, okay. Maybe fate can find me a date there.”

Jungkook chuckled, getting up, “Okay, I’ll just take a quick shower. Then, we can go.”

Wooshik nodded and Jungkook walked away. Left alone in the living room, Wooshik reached for the almost-finished bowl of chips on the center table. He rarely watched chick flicks but he really liked this one. Maybe because of the lead actress. But nonetheless, he enjoys the story.

“I just don’t get why she has to leave her great job for Nate. I mean, he did not even support her when she was having growth in her work and she was in Paris!” Wooshik exclaimed as the screen showed Anne Hathaway walking away from her boss, portrayed by Meryl Streep.

The credits were rolling in when he heard the knock on the door. He was about to call his friend when he heard the distant trickling from his shower. Wooshik got up and opened the door, dusting off the cheese powder from the chips. A delivery guy stood in front of the door, holding a box of pretty flower arrangements.

“Delivery for Jeon Jungkook.” the guy said.

Confused, Wooshik had his mouth slightly open before answering, “Oh… uh, he’s in the shower. But I can receive this for him.”

“Okay. Please, sign here.”

The guy handed him a paper and Wooshik followed. After the flowers were handed to him, he said thank you and closed the door. His eyes scanned the whole arrangement filled with various flowers. A white folded card sat on top of it. As he carefully placed it down on the table, one question stayed in his head.

Who the hell would send flowers to his best friend?

So just like what any nosy, curious person would do, Wooshik flicked the card open.

Blooms for the best person I know. 

I was with B in the flower shop and he helped me pick the flowers. I hope you’ll love them.

Know that this is the first of other surprises I’ve planned for tomorrow ;)

But firstly, let me ask you for the first time,

Babe, will you be my Valentine?

-Princess

Princess? Who the hell is Princess? Who is B? Is B a person? Did his friend have a baby and didn’t know it?

“Hey, let’s g– Oh, where did that come from?”

Jungkook came in, hair damp. His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers. Wooshik is frozen in place. His hand is still holding the card as he stares at him.

His eyes gradually squinted, “Who is Princess, and why is she sending you flowers?”

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @hisbutton-nose @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy16 @laylasbunbunny @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @petalsofink @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

[sahaudyogfoods]

Buy Masala Papad and Finger Chips Online at Saha Udyog

Whether you're yearning for a crispy snack or looking to zing up your meals, our reliable products are sure to tease your taste buds. Suitably order masala papad and finger chips online and bring home the spirit of Indian cuisine with just a tick.

More Info: https://sahaudyogfoods.weebly.com/blog/buy-masala-papad-and-finger-chips-online-at-saha-udyog

[kiwi-on-ice]

Sugar daddy headcannons with Ashe, Hanzo, Sombra and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics present in some, sex toys, just general filth

Notes: Listen, sometimes a girl just needs someone to pay them to be pretty, okay? Just some silly headcannons of the characters I think would spend the most money on their partners.

Ashe:

Oh baby, she’s the DEFINITION of a sugar daddy. Nothing on earth can stop her from spoiling you.

New clothes, new nails, new accessories, new car, new hairstyle…all bought without a second thought and a slap on your ass. I mean if you’re gonna be the special doll of the leader of the deadlock gang, you’re gonna have to look the part.

Especially if she’s planning on having you sit on her lap during a meeting. Wants your nails done and a new dress on you so everyone can look on in jealousy that you’re hers.

Yes that also extends to lingerie. She’s gonna buy you the most expensive types, with different colours, textures, everything. Typically as a present, an apology for when she goes away for one of her heists or a business meeting.

But it doesn’t stop there, she’ll get you anything just to keep you happy. Any nerdy interest you have, or food you’ve always wanted to try. She’s a generous woman with her money, but only for you.

And hey…maybe she does expect a little sugar in return, but it’s not like you’re complaining. When she’s deep in your cunt, strap pounding away as she groans, buying one that stimulates her clit the more she thrusts into you.

Definitely the type to coo at you “awe baby, you bein’ good for me? For your sugar daddy? Gonna give me some sugar so I keep spoilin’ your fine ass?” while you’re gasping for air at how good she’s railing you.

Yeah she ain’t calling herself a sugar mommy, no no she’s your sugar daddy, and you know your place.

Hanzo:

Yeah he’s definitely into being a sugar daddy for you, especially while he was still part of the shimada clan.

He’s a busy man, and a busy man needs some stress relief. So having a pretty thing like you certainly helps those urges after a shitty day.

Kinda nonchalant about spoiling you, tossing you a wad of cash and demanding you to get something pretty to wear tonight, or to get your nails redone after one chipped off.

He doesn’t spend a lot of money, so he might as well spend it on you, if you’re good that is. Stay well behaved and don’t mouth off and you’ll get rewarded.

Always has a catch though. If he pays to get your nails done, he always wants a demonstration that night of how they look. Which almost always involves your pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, while he gets out a gruff “they look nice angel” as you pump him.

Or if he buys you a new car, so he tests how good you can drive it by fingering you while you drive around some backroads. After all, if he’s gonna buy you a pretty car, gotta make sure you won’t crash it and wreck it, right?

But hey if your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers means you have to stop the car, he can think of another way of proving you deserve the vehicle, which is how you’ll find yourself bent over the seats with his cock in your mouth.

The man is always buying you lingerie, because those are gonna be your permanent underwear now. Every time you undress, he expects to see one of the pretty sets he got you, so he can peel them off himself. Sometimes if you go to a formal event, his hand may go wandering up your dress to feel the material of your panties to make sure.

Definitely isn’t into being called a sugar daddy though (father issues and all that), so best stick to sir.

Sombra:

Another serial lingerie buyer. Loves hacking into your online wish lists to get you things, but lingerie is her fav. Yes she will be buying purple sets the same colour as her hair.

Also gonna buy you bodysuits too, lace ones with matching stockings and garters; all of it. She’ll leave it in a nicely packaged box on your bed (and mostly likely watch your reaction through the cameras she had you install in your house)

She’ll make you send her pictures and videos of you in the clothes she buys, will save it to her phone’s folder titled ‘my investment💜’. If she’s feeling in a particular mood, she’ll text you instructions on what she wants you do to in the videos, like how to touch yourself or what to say.

But she’s not shy about buying you anything that you want, or more importantly anything she thinks you need. This includes the best electronics on the market, phones, laptops, headphones, tablets, anything. All encrypted of course, the only person who should be able to hack into your stuff is her.

She might tease you by calling herself your sugar mommy, but not with a serious tone. She knows that you’re more to her than just a sugar baby. And she knows that it’s not just her money that keeps you around, you’re addicted to her.

And she proves it, by having you sit in the apartment she pays for, in your pretty purple lingerie she got you, bouncing up and down on a dildo she sent you, in front of your new phone as she watches from her computer set-up, a smirk on her face at how obedient you are. And hey, if her fingers find themselves on her aching clit, who’s gonna stop her?

Lifeweaver:

Nghhhhhh I’m going feral. You know this man has money, if his family's wealth is anything to go by. And he’s gonna be spoiling you to death.

Honestly it turns him on to buy you the finest things in life, especially if you aren’t used to such luxuries. Just watching your eyes light up at what he’s bought you, at what he knows you deserve, has his dick rock hard.

He’ll most likely get you jewellery the most, the finest he can of course. And he obviously takes note of your preferences; if you only wear silver, the silver it shall be, or if you only wear gold, that’s what you’ll have on your neck and fingers and ears.

If it’s a necklace he’s bought you, he’ll insist on putting it on for you. Securing it around your neck, he’ll lean in to press kisses along the back of you neck and shoulder, worshiping you. If he’s bought you a ring, he’ll kiss from your knuckle up your arm, spurred on by your giggles.

Nothing is too much for you, even if you’re too shy to ask for what you want. If he sees your eyes lingering on a particular bag or necklace or outfit, he’ll make a note to get it for you later.

Will insist you try everything on for him that night too, your pretty dresses and tops and skirts and leggings. Will have you do a twirl so his eyes can roam your entire form, before giving you the sweetest, most indulgent compliments.

And then you’ll probably find yourself sat on his plush bed in front of the mirror, as he’s on his knees eating you out like a man starved. Murmuring against mouthfuls of your cunt to look at how pretty you are in the mirror. Instructing you to repeat it, to tell him that you deserve the best things and that you’re the prettiest girl in the world as you gush on his tongue.

Definitely does not like the term sugar daddy, as it implies he’s only buying you things with the expectation of sex. But I mean, if you really want to call him daddy, he’d do anything to make you feel good.

[satoruhour]

a/n: ty for all ur asks ill answer them soon but i just wanna write something small to get my mind off assignments and i miss writing; very self-ship coded and indulgent

thinking about geto who loves to game and because he’s already finished his finals for the semester, he’s is enjoying his time online but you still have some exams and essays to finish up on and you’re just... so distracted by your boyfriend’s side profile as he shouts and smiles at his teammates on the game.

your mind is all muddled from the information you try to soak up, but you know you’ve reached your limit long ago when you start looking at the brightness of suguru’s screens more than your dull notes, and you fall even deeper in love when after each round he comes off his set-up to check on you.

first, “how’s my baby’s studying going?” he asks softly even if you cannot hear with the earphones in, and here you’re more focused, jumping a little when a larger, gentle hand strokes your calves.

“sorry, su— what did you say?” he hovers over you, gently pushing away the hand clutching your notes to give you a kiss before sitting down again.

“how’s your studying?” his tone is so, so loving and small, as if afraid that he’ll add onto your stress but he does the exact opposite.

you just settle for a shrug, wanting to tell him about this frustrating time period that you have to memorise the events for but before you can open your mouth, you can hear satoru’s loud ass from his headset and you both share a giggle.

“go,” you whisper, running a hand briefly through his hair.

“okay darling. you’ll be okay,” geto never forgets to gift you with a forehead kiss, tender against your skin before picking himself up. this happens a second, third, fourth time — hell, you lost count of how many rounds they played but your studying starts to falter around round three when you cannot take any more of the black plague and the protestant v. catholic disputes.

so, you just switch to watching your boyfriend be skilled with his fingers, clacking away on the keyboard and keeping the team together when gojo again dramatically has to scream at why he keeps getting shot at. he was everyone’s rock, at this point, but he was only willing to let you be the chiseler and chip away at him until you find obsidian.

“sugu...” you mumble, not expecting to hear you, but just at that moment one of his friends had to take a break, pausing it. all the chaos that comes in through his headphones stop, so you’re surprised when his head snaps to yours.

“hm?” he hums, looking at you with that smile.

you point, more to his lap than to his face, “can i?”

geto wasn’t a stranger to this, so he swivels his chair and opens his hands to face you; you happily trot over to him, abandoning your notes for a little bit of downtime. before you know it, you’re placing one leg over his pelvis and straddling him, safely cradled by him.

“hi.”

you giggle, “hello.”

geto grins in return, hands caressing your sides like it was his stress ball. “how’s it goin’?”

you shake your head and frown, “can’t remember.”

your lover only gives you a downward smile, one of his hands coming up to rub the stress away from you. his thumb goes over your furrowed brows, fingers squeezing your jaw until it relaxes.

“there we go...” he softly says, “want to stay here?”

“if you don’t mind? i don’t want to memorise any more things,” geto can hear the pout in your voice and he coos inwardly, brushing a few strands of hairs from your face.

“of course i don’t mind, baby,” another forehead peck, “once this round ends, i’ll clean up and come to bed with you, okay?”

“promise? you always let satoru talk you into another round.”

and you jump a little again when you hear a familiar voice sound out from the headset, hey, i heard that!!! and you laugh with suguru, exchanging small smiles as the other gives you a tender kiss — “i won’t let him do it this time.”

and suguru stays true to his word, squeezing you periodically while your hands wrap around his shoulders and your face buries itself in his neck. you’re snuggled comfortably on his lap, sometimes giving him kisses on the neck and he wriggles because of his sensitive spots. he has the pleasure of hearing your laughs, albeit faded and soft, you have all the warmth in the world in the form of geto suguru.

it’s when you’re slipping in and out of consciousness that they conclude the round, suguru immediately bidding goodbye to his friends and suddenly the world is quiet again.

“—eetheart? baby?” geto’s voice cut into your conscious and you blink away your fatigue. “there she is.”

“yea— here,” yawn, “here i am.”

suguru barks out a laugh, a beautiful noise and it’s got you smiling too. again, his hand like second nature goes to your hair to arrange it, heart tightening up when you lean into his touch.

“shall we head to bed?” you nod sleepily, but you have to get your kisses first, arms bending to slot your hands to his neck and face. there, you can feel his skin heat up, pale skin illuminated by the computer screens that turn red just barely. you bring suguru in for a gentle kiss, letting your boyfriend lead the way as you lock lips.

you move in tandem, in rhythm with him, taking in a deep breath when his arms wrap tighter around your waist. he hums into the kiss, cold hands descending upon your warm back and teasing that line that follows your spine, while he moves his head against yours. sneakily, he slips his tongue into your mouth and swallows your soft moans, pulling away with a deep breath when oxygen becomes scarce.

geto looks at you like you hung the stars, eyes soft and tired as well, a glow on his face and lips pulled into a smile.

“my pretty, pretty girl,” he whispers, your heart picking up in an even faster pace, taking advantage of your hand on his face. he turns his face, lips upon your palm and you can feel your heart soar. the scene is still all quiet — the computers shut down by now, the soft rush of water in the plugged-in diffuser, your breathing, as he takes your hand and kisses, kisses, kisses. each finger, knuckle to your wrist, leaving no place untouched by his lips.

you tuck his bangs behind his ear, but it will dart out soon enough. “my... gamer... boy?” you stutter out questionably and you make suguru throw his head back and laugh, fingers feeling at your skin.

“oh, pretty and hilarious? i think i scored,” the laughter subsides and you get lost in his eyes all over again, a labyrinth that you never want to come out of because it’s warm and cozy and consists of everything that you love.

“you jest.” you’re grinning, heading back into your safe space as you hide your face, and geto takes that as a sign to stand up, just as he knows everything about you. adjusting you, he stands up shortly after, bringing you to the bed and plopping onto it with a big sigh.

“oh, i do anything but joke about my baby’s capabilities,” he hovers over you, looking like a deity above you that you’d think you’re meeting with god, “not when she’s just so stunning. it’s true.”

geto suguru always had a way with words, and now, a way with your heart. from the lovesick look he has in his eyes, or the extra hair tie he keeps on his wrist for you, or maybe even the fingers that know your body so well, he knows you like second nature. loving you is like that — natural, ingrained into his body and yet every time he kisses you, the same fireworks never fail to ignite.

“by the gods, i’m sure they’re all talking about you in the love songs they write,” suguru whispers from above you, voice barely above a whisper and the pure articulation of it takes your breath away. the words and description fit him better, you know, but you’d indulge yourself in the eyes of your lover for once and let his love consume you whole.

geto mumbles mindlessly, thumb going over your bottom lip, “and everything they sing and speak of is true. venus looks like everything true and good and sweet. she looks just like love.”

“where is she, now?”

“what do you mean? i’m looking at her right now.” suguru replies with a smile of his own before he devours you whole, lips upon lips and skin against skin and nothing makes his heart burn and head spin quite like you do. he guesses it’s all goddess-level duty, but even then, even goddesses do not know of their powers sometimes, just like you and your humility and all your kindness and beauty that even you don’t know what you do to him.

and suguru is more than happy to let you know.

[kpoptrashibnida]

First Time Dad

A/N: Sorry for the crap title, but I couldn't think of anything better lol this is really just my brain rot. I am in love with this man and I was just imagining him as a father thanks to this episode. I don't want kids but I'd pop them out for this man. ANYWAY, before I get weirder, here is a quick little ramble of how I think it would go if Wooyoung was your husband, you guys had a baby and the rest of ATEEZ became uncles. I did not proofread lol and this is essentially like fluff or slice of life. Happy reading!

It had been a long day full of practice and Wooyoung was exhausted. The whole time he was at work, he was thinking of the precious person waiting for him at home. He was soon going to be taking some time off, so he needed to work overtime for now in order to make up for the time he is going to miss in the near future. He quickly leaves the practice room as soon as he can, slightly bumping into San on his way out, making the rest of the members giggle at his haste. He drove to the agency today because he wanted to make sure he got home as soon as possible after work was done, with no stalls along the way. He had placed an order for online pickup, since he knew his precious person was most likely going to be tired and he didn’t want them to cook. 

Wooyoung felt giddy as he opened the door to his house, expecting to see his precious person walking around, ready to greet him. He was met with silence and a dimly lit house. He instantly panicked but quickly calmed himself down, placing the food on the kitchen counter and walking around to look for his precious person. He could hear muffled voices coming from the living room and he figured you were there. He quietly walked over and peeked his head into the living room. The sight before him warmed his heart and pulled a huge smile on his face. 

There you were, his precious person, sound asleep on the couch. Your left hand placed over your belly, your wedding ring glistening with the light of the television playing in the background. You were surrounded by baskets of laundry, a mountain of unfolded clothes next to you. His heart ached at seeing you in this condition. You were tired and no matter how many times he told you to take it easy, that he could hire help to take some of the burden off of you, you insisted you were fine.

He quietly got up and picked up the water glass that was on the coffee table, as well as the bowl of chips. He walked to the kitchen and quietly washed the few dishes that were on the sink. He quickly wiped down the counters and sweeped the floor before heading to the master bedroom and taking a quick shower. He sweated a lot during practice and he was sure he smelled bad.

He went back out to the living room and saw that you were still sleeping on the couch. He plated your dinner and placed it on the coffee table, and cleared the baskets of laundry to avoid getting any of it dirty. He sat next to you and softly kissed your temple.

“Baby… wake up.” He lowly murmured near your ear, placing another soft kiss on your temple.

You didn’t stir or budge and Wooyoung felt a pang of guilt seeing how exhausted you really were.

“Baby… wake up… dinner is ready.” He says again, his pointer finger tracing the curve of your cute button nose. You still wouldn’t budge and he decided to do the thing he knew for sure would wake you up. 

He placed a kiss on your belly and laid his head on it, but not the full weight so he wouldn’t crush his baby.

“Peanut, wanna kick mommy awake?” He playfully spoke to the belly, blowing a soft raspberry on it, knowing that his Peanut would move around. 

He got what he wanted because he saw Peanut move around in the belly, their little feet creating a weird bump on the belly.

“Wooyoung?” You mumbled as you stirred awake, Wooyoung and Peanut were already an unstoppable team, getting exactly what they wanted. 

“Hi noona. Dinner is ready.” He said, wiping the sleepiness from your eyes.

You stirred awake and looked disoriented, looking around for your phone.

What time is it?” You asked, sitting upright and noticing that the laundry had been put away and the remainder had been folded and placed in the laundry basket. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, sounding sad as you looked at the food in front of you and the clean house.

“Why are you sorry?” Wooyoung asked, baffled, hating the sad expression in your eyes.

“Because I wanted to be productive! I wanted you to get home to a clean house, a cooked meal and I wanted to put Peanut’s clothes away in the nursery. But I got so tired! And I was going to take a small break on the couch and watch this new crime docuseries but I fell asleep. And now you get home tired after working all day, and you had to clean.” You explain on the verge of tears.

“Baby! Don’t say that! You were being very productive! You are making sure Peanut is safe and keeps growing! That’s more work and more tiring than anything I could ever do! Please don’t say that! And I told you I would put Peanut’s clothes away tomorrow since I’ll be off work. Peanut is almost going to join us, so I really want you to take it easy. Okay?” Wooyoung softly reprimanded. He couldn’t believe you were being this hard on yourself. 

“What if you get annoyed with me?” You basically whimpered, shattering Wooyoung’s heart.

“Noona! Don’t say such silly things! I could never get annoyed with you! You are the most important person in my life! And you are going to give me the second most important person in my life. How could I ever, in my right mind, get annoyed with you? I love you more than I can comprehend.” He reassured you, cradling your face in his hands and placing a firm kiss on your lips. 

“Now, I know for a fact that you and Peanut are hungry. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” He instructed, handing you your plate and utensils. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up and happy with eachothers company.

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

“Hurry! Close the elevator door!” Mingi instructed exasperatedly, annoyed that everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. 

“Calm down Mingi! We are moving as fast as we can.” Hongjoon reprimanded, trying to get the group calm because right now they are all a ball of nervous energy and he did not want to bring it into the hospital room. 

“Everyone calm down! We can’t go in there and disrupt noona and Peanut!” Seonghwa instructed and that seemed to do the trick.

“I can’t believe Wooyoung is a dad.”  Jongho said, not believing he was going to meet his baby.

They all got off the elevator and sped walked to the room Wooyoung told them they were in. Hongjoon worried they overdid it with all the flowers, balloons and stuffed teddies, but the guys were all excited and he didn’t have the heart to tell them to cut back. They arrived at the door and knocked softly, anxiously awaiting a response.

“Come in.” They heard Wooyoung say on the other side of the door. Hongjoon took a deep breath and opened the door, the members instinctively getting in a single file line to enter the room. 

“Hi!” Wooyoung greeted the members as they walked in quietly, their heads instinctively looking at you laying on your bed, a small bundle wrapped in your arms. 

The members walked over to Wooyoung, handing the gifts to him.

“Guys, meet our little girl, Woojin.” You shared with the group, giggling when they all bursted out in cheers. You and Woouyoung decided to find out the gender of your baby upon birth and it was a surprise to everyone.

 “Can we please hold her?” San asked, his eyes staring at the small baby in awe.

“Yes but you all have to wash your hands.” Wooyoung instructed, watching the members run to the sink in the bathroom that was connected to the hospital room. 

“Guy behave! We are in a hospital!” Hongjoon said, exasperated, not believing his eyes. He was also excited to hold Woojin but he knew how to behave in a hospital. 

The guys quieted down but there was still a low murmur of excitement as they washed their hands one by one, San making sure he was the first one to hold her. Wooyoung took the baby from your arms and carefully placed her in San’s arms, instructing him how to hold her head. The rest of the members scurried over and huddled around San an Woojin, all marveling at the cute little baby in his arms. 

“San, are you crying?” Mingi teased, seeing the tears well up in the man’s eyes. 

Hongjoon smacked his arm in warning, knowing it wasn’t the time to tease. 

“He’s emotional because he was Wooyoung’s first wife.” You tease and they all erupt in laughter, including San.

Wooyoung sits next to you on the bed as he watches the members take turns sitting on the chair and holding your baby girl. She was watching the men with curiosity, not understanding that her life was about to be filled with so much love from all her uncles.

You lay your head on your husband’s shoulder, holding his hand and smiling at the sight in front of you.

“She is going to be very spoiled, isn’t she?” You ask, humor lacing your words.

“Spoiled rotten.” Wooyoung confirmed, placing a short kiss to your smiling lips.

“You did such a great job honey.” Wooyoung praised you. “Thank you for making me a father and giving me a beautiful daughter.” He kisses you one more time, this time a little bit deeper.

“Get off her, she just had a baby.” Yunho teases and you break away from Wooyoung with a laugh.

“I guess Woojin is going to get a sibling much sooner than we thought.” Yeosang jokes, earning a glare from your husband. 

“When can we sleep over?” San asks, you know he is serious about it too.

“If you guys want to be on diaper duty, you can sleep over as soon as we get released.” You said thinking that would be a deterrent for them but to your surprise, they all agreed.

You laughed at their eagerness, your heart filling with warmth at the knowledge that your daughter’s life is going to be full of so much love and care. 

“Mina and I are more than willing to babysit wherever you guys need a date night out.” Seonghwa informed the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise since Mina became a close friend of yours since she started dating Seonghwa.

“We’d love that.” Wooyoung agreed, loving the support from his friends, no, his family.

“I want to babysit too!” Mingi and San complained at the same time, which then resulted in a slight argument on who would be the first to babysit after Seonghwa and Mina.

“This is going to be the rest of our lives.” You sighed happily, in love with your husband and in love with your family. Life was great and it was going to get better.

[aurumacadicus]

Anyway I saw a commercial where Don Cheadle runs a speakeasy.

--

"Tony, my bar is opening tonight and my piano player has food poisoning," Jim stated when he found him in the living room of his penthouse, watching a basketball game.

Tony blinked at him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. "I can flush him with Pedialyte?"

"This isn't college. Also I already left him a case and a credit card in case his girlfriend has to take him to get an IV," Jim answered with a blasé shrug. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his hair and give him a gentle shake. "I understand you're still reeling from your breakup but I need a favor. You must have dated at least one person who can play jazz on the piano."

"Stop wobbling me I'm full of chips," Tony grumbled, lifting his hand to slap Jim's arm. "And no, I didn't. I'm the piano player in my relationships."

Jim paused, then began shaking him with more fervor. "HOW COME YOU NEVER PLAYED FOR ME."

"There wasn't a piano in our dorm I will throw up on you," Tony snapped, smacking his arm again. "Also??? I was adorable in school I would have hogged all the girls."

"It's so annoying that you're right," Jim huffed, allowing himself to be brushed off. He looked around the penthouse, then pointed at the piano next to the window, which he'd always thought was just there either to impress Tony's dates or because rich people just owned pianos. "Show me what you can do."

"I don't want to go to your speakeasy opening," Tony complained, even as he stood and brushed his hands off on his sweatpants. "I want to wallow in finding my ex-boyfriend fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed. I was supposed to propose tonight. You're getting George Gershwin."

"Oh no," Jim deadpanned. "A way to get your mind off of that guy I hated anyway while getting me to owe you a favor."

Tony paused, slanting him a look out of the corner of his eye. His fingers hovered over the piano keys. "...You'll owe me a favor?" he repeated.

"A big one," Jim confirmed, and couldn't help a relieved smile as Tony's fingers danced along the keys in response, Rhapsody in Blue vibrating out from the piano's body. "Wear that pinstripe number. You'll never have to buy yourself a drink."

--

Most of the patrons were by invite. Jim had wanted to show the place off to his friends first, now that it was finished. A themed bar wasn't the safest bet in any economy, and he wanted them to be able to enjoy it before he had to start stressing about finances. And military people never needed an excuse to drink.

Tony's favor had involved inviting a few of his rich friends, though, and with the selfies Janet Van Dyne and Johnny Storm were posting online, Jim figured he'd be set for a few years, especially when Jan grabbed his hands and sparkled at him about how she'd be coming at least once a week to show off new flapper dresses. (He was still unsure as to how she "sparkled" at him, but it was an adjective he'd gotten from Tony and it was the only really apt one.) They kept dropping fifties in the tip jar, too, which only made his bartenders more cheerful and willing to act in their roles.

Luckily, the higher class clientele were balanced out with Jim's pals from the military. Carol and Maria had already said their goodbyes (Monica had an event early the next morning) but as the air force left, the army rolled in, and he welcomed the Howling Commandoes in with only a little teasing.

"Jim," Natasha said, appearing beside him between one breath and another, despite the beads on her dress tinkling musically with each step. "Why is Bucky lying to people that his food poisoning miraculously ended. And why did he give me five hundred dollars to shut up about him not having food poisoning."

Jim sighed. He should have known that Bucky would have gotten dragged here regardless of his "illness" with friends like the Commandoes. "I needed to get Tony out of the house but I knew he'd only do it if I needed help. Today was the first time he showered in a week."

"I see. Well, I've just gotten May and Happy together," Natasha said ominously. "And Pepper is well on her way to realizing Phil is asking her out. I could use a new project. Steve is also single."

"I really don't want Tony dating right after he found his cheating ex-boyfriend in his bed with someone else," Jim began.

"Don't worry, Steve is stupidly loyal even to people he's not dating and will punch Tiberius Stone in the teeth if he ever sees him," Natasha assured him, and floated halfway across the room as Jim gave her an astonished blink.

Well. Jim couldn't say he didn't want to see that. He drifted over to the piano, where Tony was still diligently playing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton. "You need a break, bud? You've been playing for two hours straight."

"Rhodey," Tony slurred happily, and it made Jim suddenly aware of the rows of martini glasses on the side of the piano. "This is so much fun. Is it okay if my tips go to charity. I can't feel my hands."

Bucky appeared a moment later, cheerfully shouldering him aside. "I'll take over, fella," he said, giving Jim a wink, and hip-checked Tony off of the piano bench and directly into Jim's arms.

"Was that hot or am I sad and drunk?" Tony asked. He squinted at Bucky blearily. "Am I sad and looking for anything to be hot. Or was that actually hot."

Reluctantly, Jim answered, "No, it was hot, but Bucky's taken." He pulled Tony's arm over his shoulders. "Let's get some water in you, okay?"

"Okay but I promised Jan I'd play her out because of drama and panache," Tony wobbled, allowing Jim to tow him over to the dark, moody sitting area. "Is this a secret door? Oh my God yay," he added as Jim pulled a bookcase open to reveal a back room where he could rest without excitement.

Jim had intended for it to be a room for private parties, but letting his friends sober up in it tonight would be fine, probably. Especially if Tony was going to be drunk and cute about it. "What is Jan going to have you play?"

"'Let's Misbehave,'" Tony slurred, and Jim sighed fondly, because of course she was.