#shes making up for all the times she was too busy to have meaningful conversation pre movie

[pepa-brainrot]

Encantober pt 1: prompt 'healing' @encantober-official

Post movie Mirabel still has a long way to go, just like everyone else in the family. Sadly, her repression issues make it hard- after all, everything is ok now- shouldn't she be as well..? Luckily Tía Armida knows all too well the feeling, and is able to talk to her about it

Using some of encantober prompts to do more oc and canon interactions that I don't normally but should- starting with our beloved mirabel- that hug is long overdo 💛

[authorhjk1]

Home

Mother and Daughter

(Kwon Eunbi X Winter X Male Reader)

With tears in her eyes, Minjeong quickly unlocks the front door. She hates it. She hates school. She hates the other girls. She hates the guys. She just hates it!

"Welcome home, dear!"

"Hi mom."

Minjeong is able to hold back a sniffle as she heads to her room. Her mother, busy with making dinner, had her back turned towards her. When she turns around, expecting her daughter to tell her about her day, she is surprised that she already left.

Inside her room, Minjeong throws her backpack onto the bed. With clenched fists, she kicks a dirty sock under her bed. Why does she have to watch this shit everyday? A boy and a girl messing around during the break? Both of them sharing meaningful glances in class?

"Argh!"

Minjeong stops herself from kicking her bed. She tries to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. This wasn't the first time she had to watch one of her friends make out with a guy from school. So why did it bother her so much today?

She shakes her head in annoyance. What does her friend has that she doesn't? Isn't Minjeong funny? Isn't she polite and caring? Isn't she pret-

Minjeong's eyes fall on the mirror. Is that it? She sees her sad face in the reflection of the clean glass. Is she unable to find a boyfriend, because she isn't pretty enough?

"Oh man!"

Minjeong lets herself fall face first onto the bed.

What is she supposed to do then? All her friends are bragging about boyfriends and...and... and sex...

Minjeong shakes her head. That's exactly the reason why she finally wants to have her first time! She hates feeling this way! She blushes when it's a topic of a conversation. She wants to know how it feels.

Raising her head slightly, she glances at the mirror again. What is it with her? She is desperately trying to ignore the obvious. The thing, or rather things, she can't change.

She is, well, naturally pretty, if you can call it that. Rather cute than sexy, but that isn't so bad. Is it?

Minjeong's eyes finally land on her cleavage. That must be the problem. She hates her chest. Why does she have to be so small? She sometimes hears the guys talking about the girls in her class. Allegedly they even made a list, ranking all the girls.

"I'm definitely last."

Minjeong groans in annoyance.

Why isn't she growing bigger? Her friends all look way better than her. Especially Karina. She is Minjeong's best friend. But in moments like these, Minjeong hates her guts. Why does Karina have it all? A beautiful, sexy face, a big chest, full thighs, a round ass.

"What is wrong with me?"

Minjeong kicks her legs into the mattress, feeling like the ugliest girl in the world.

"Minjeong-ie!"

She hears her mom knock on her door.

"What is it, ma?"

"I made us dinner, sweetie."

"A minute!"

Minjeong tries to pull herself together. Looking at the mirror again, she checks if her eyes have become red from crying.

Eunbi watches her daughter sit down on the other side if the table.

"Are you doing alright, honey?"

"I'm fine, mom."

Eunbi raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but she doesn't pressure her. At least not now. She has always taught Minjeong and her brother to respect other people's boundaries, so she always leads by example.

But throughout the unusual quiet meal, Eunbi starts to become more concerned about her daughter's condition. Minjeong just pokes at the meat on her plate, instead of actually eating it. How is she supposed to cheer up her daughter?

You come to mind.

"Are you excited for tomorrow, Minjeong-ie?"

"Tomorrow?"

Minjeong raises an eyebrow in confusion. She doesn't even remember what day it is, too busy thinking about how to become more attractive. Should she eat more? That way she could make her chest a little bigger maybe. But she doesn't want to get called fat at school. It's a dilemma.

"What day is tomorrow?"

"It's the 10th."

Eunbi gives Minjeong a meaningful look.

The tenth...

"(Y/n) oppa!"

Minjeong is suddenly smiling brightly. She almost forgot that you would come home tomorrow. After not having seen you in person for almost half a year, Minjeong is longing to hug you for hours, once you are back.

"Exactly."

Eunbi smiles as well, happy to see her daughter being finally in a good mood.

"He will come home late though, so you will see him on the day after tomorrow."

"But..."

"No but. You have school."

That's something Eunbi always prioritizes. School. It sucks for Minjeong. She hates school. But she gets why her mother has that obsession with school.

After her husband left her, Eunbi had to take care of both of you, while needing to find a job as well. Because she didn't go to college or anything, it was hard for her to find a well paying job. Once you were old enough, you started working at a sporting goods shop, having been interested in soccer and sports, since you can remember.

You were able to help your step mom out enough to make up at least a little bit of the damage your father had left. But your already bad grades started to suffer even more. And eventually, you dropped out of school.

That's why Minjeong doesn't argue further with Eunbi about staying up late and welcoming you. It's not like you are gonna run away, before she can even see you.

"Talking about school... How is it going?"

Eunbi rests her chin on her hand, looking at her daughter.

"I-It's alright."

Eunbi notices how Minjeong is suddenly very interested in the food in front of her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything is great, mom."

Minjeong manages to smile at her, before looking down again.

"And how is it going with your love life?"

Eunbi winks at her sheepishly.

"Mom!"

"What?"

Minjeong looks at her puzzled mother, embarrassed that she was going to take it out on her.

Eunbi always told the both of you to be open minded and always listen to other people's perspectives. And that includes relationships as well.

"I-I don't have anyone."

"Oh, that's alright, sweetie. You are still so young."

"No I'm not. (Y/n) is only a year older than me. And Karina and the others all have boyfriends already."

"That's true."

Eunbi nods, now realizing where her daughter's sour mood might come from. But that's not something she can actively help her with as her mother. Respecting Minjeong's boundaries, Eunbi decides to not press her further. If she needs advice or someone to talk to, Minjeong knows that Eunbi will be there for her either way.

While Eunbi starts doing the dishes, Minjeong goes back to her room to finish her homework. Math. Something she could totally live without.

As she tries to read the next task for the next problem, her mind seems to be somewhere else.

"Come on."

Minjeong grumbles, annoyed with herself.

She eventually finishes her homework. Later than she hoped though. Realizing that she has to go bed now, because of school tomorrow, Minjeong starts to get ready for bed.

Debating on what pajama to put on, she looks around her closet. They all look ugly to her today. She really hates this. How can she be sexy, if she doesn't even have sex clothes?

Suddenly Minjeong feels this tingly excitement creeping up, when she remembers the purchase she made a month ago. Today isn't the first time she hated her body. It's more like an every day occurrence. But the last time it was this bad, Minjeong got herself something to make her feel better about herself.

She takes her chair from the desk and puts it in front of her wardrobe. Her mom is not gonna come into her room today anymore, already having said good night. Minjeong gets on the chair and then on her tip toes, trying to reach the parcel at the back.

Once she got her hands on it, Minjeong opens it, taking out the underwear that's hidden inside. She is so glad that she was able to buy it online. If she would've had to buy it in a store, she probably wouldn't have had the confidence to do so.

A smile creeps onto her face as Minjeong puts the box back to its rightful place, before starting to put on the lingerie. Karina told her once that she got something similar in black for her boyfriend. Hers is peach colored though. She feels the smooth fabric hug her skin as she slowly puts it on. After a couple of moment, she checks herself out in the mirror.

White stockings wrap around her slim legs, making her look a little thinner than she usually does. The peach garter belt around her hips is actually more of a tiny skirt. Minjeong is able to see a hint of her lace panties, even without needing to lift it up. The small bow in the front is a little darker than the rest. The same goes for the short strings that connect her belt and her stockings. Minjeong's stomach is fully exposed and she can't help but let a hand wander over it. She is proud of at least that part of her body. Not everyone looks as fit as she does. But the bra still looks a little too big for her.

Minjeong sighs in disappointment. It has the same lace patterns as the skirt, but she is unable to fill it completely. Why doesn't she have her mother's genes? She always envies her. Her mother has had a couple of boyfriends throughout the years. They were all unable to focus, whenever Eunbi wore a low cut top. But why can't Minjeong be like this? She wants to turn all the boys' heads in class, when she enters the classroom.

But looking into the mirror a little longer, Minjeong realizes that she isn't as ugly as she thought she is. She might not have the biggest chest. But apart from that...

Minjeong gets on the bed, finally, at least a little bit, comfortable in her own skin. She mindlessly lets a finger run along the straps of her bra, looking up at the ceiling. Her naked thighs slowly start to rub together. Suddenly, Minjeong is horny. She doesn't even remember what she thought about a moment ago, after she lied down. But the increasing heat in her lower area makes her reach out for her laptop on the desk.

With shaky fingers, Minjeong types in the address of the porn side she usually goes to. It always feels wrong and dirty, whenever she opens it. But she can't stop.

Minjeong scans the home page, looking at the new videos that came out, after she watched something last time. Her cursor finds itself on a video she hasn't watched before.

Once the video starts, Minjeong quickly skips past the annoying scenes of the woman, showing off her body. She reaches the point where the guy fucks her doggy style. Minjeong watches how the woman's tits sway with every thrust. Jealous, but turned on even more, Minjeong finds her right hand rubbing her lace panties. She is wishing so desperately to be that woman. She finally wants to get fucked like her. She wants to be able to tell everyone that she isn't a virgin anymore.

Eunbi yawns as she steps out of the bathroom. She feels small butterflies in her stomach, thinking about you, coming home tomorrow. She hasn't talked to you properly in so long. She wants to tell you how proud she is. What a great man you've become.

Wondering what the two of you should do together during your stay, Eunbi passes Minjeong's room. She stops in her tracks, when she hears light moaning.

"Fuck my little pussy harder!"

She furrows her eyebrows. That's not Minjeong, is it? Is that why she disappeared so quickly into her room when she came home? Is this the reason, why she acted like this during dinner? Is she hiding her boyfriend from her?

Eunbi is disappointed. She hoped that, when the time comes, Minjeong would tell her about everything. Curiosity slowly starts to creep in.

"Maybe just a quick peek."

She slowly turns the doorknob, before looking inside.

"Mom!"

Minjeong is thrown out of her blissful moment, when she hears the door crack open. Horrified by realizing that her mother just saw her masturbate, she quickly closes the laptop and covers herself with her sheets.

"Baby..."

"Go away, mom!"

"There is nothing wrong with doing this, Minjeong-ie."

The young girl's cheeks flush red. This must be one of the most embarrassing moments of her live.

"I-Please leave."

"Minjeong-ie, I want to us to be as close as we've always been. You don't have to be ashamed by what you are doing. It's totally normal."

"R-Really?"

"Yes. I do it too."

"Mom!"

Minjeong covers her ears, not wanting to hear about her mother's sexy life.

"Don't be so childish. We can talk about this like adults."

Eunbi finally opens the door completely, before stepping inside.

"You look really pretty by the way."

She slowly walks over to Minjeong.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

With a warm smile, Eunbi sits down on the edge of the bed.

"The colour matches your skin really well. And your body is just perfect. I'm still surprised you haven't found anyone yet."

"Mom..."

Minjeong seems more sad than embarrassed now.

"I-No one likes me. I'm not pretty enough."

"How could you say something like that?"

Eunbi's heart brakes as she gasps in surprise.

"You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You are by far better looking than all the girls your age."

"Oh please, mom. I will never be as hot as you."

Eunbi can't help but feel a little warm inside at her daughter's compliment.

"Don't say that. Everyone is pretty in their own way. Tell me something that I have that you don't. I'm sure you can't-"

"Y-Your chest."

Minjeong's shy comment makes Eunbi look down on herself. She glances back at her daughter, who is lying on the bed, looking up at her with a sad look on her face.

"Oh come on, Minjeong-ie. Yours aren't as small as you think."

Eunbi reaches out and feels her daughter's tits.

"They are maybe not as big as mine, but bigger doesn't always mean better."

"It does."

Eunbi shakes her head.

"You are not ugly, just because you don't have a big chest. Your face is so gorgeous. And you take so much care of your body."

"You are lying. You could sleep with any guy you want. The guys in my class won't even look at me."

"You are lying to yourself. Who wouldn't want to be intimate with a girl like you?"

Eunbi cups Minjeong's cheek with affection.

"Everyone it seems like. No one likes how I look."

"That's rubbish."

Eunbi unconsciously lets her hand wander over Minjeong's body.

"If you think no one is paying attention, you have to dress a little more provocatively. Your own body is not the problem."

"You mean dress more sexy?"

"Exactly."

Eunbi takes another look at her daughter's outfit.

"This lingerie looks so good on you. Anyone would want you."

"But I can't walk around in lingerie at school, can I?"

"That's true, honey. Why don't I show you tomorrow how I dressed, when I went to school? It was good enough for your father, you know?"

Eunbi winks at her daughter playfully, her hand resting on her midriff.

"Fine. But can you please leave now? I-I want-need to..."

Minjeong trails off. Still embarrassed to voice her need for pleasure.

"Of course, baby. But don't watch stuff like this. It can make you addicted and it's just not how sex works."

"Then how am I supposed to..."

Minjeong's cheeks redden once more.

"Just think about a guy you like. Or something you want to experience."

"What do you think about, when... when you, you know?"

Eunbi ponders for a moment. She would've said that she takes herself back to the best moments of her own sex life. But that would hit a nerve right now. She is finally on the same wavelength with her daughter. She doesn't want to give that up now.

"I think about actors, or singers, you know? Maybe a guy I've met in the mall. Something like this."

"And what do you imagine doing with them?"

"Well..."

Eunbi thinks for a moment, if this isn't a little too much. But she finally decides to be honest.

"I usually just imagine them having sex with me. I usually start by kissing. And then, they ea-eat me out, you know?"

Eunbi can't help but be a little shy as well. This is the first time she talking about how she pleasures herself. With her daughter no less.

"I wish I knew how that felt."

Minjeong's confession makes Eunbi's heart ache.

"And how do you, you know?"

Minjeong rests her hand on her own panties. Eunbi can't help but notice the proportions of her hips and waist. How is her daughter not getting laid 24/7?

"Well, I sometimes use toys. But I usually do it with my hand, like anyone else."

"I see."

Minjeong looks away, but Eunbi feels like there is more she would like to know.

"I sometimes have trouble fin-finishing. Especially without the videos. C-Can you maybe show me?"

Her daughter's desperate eyes make it impossible for Eunbi to say no.

"Of course, baby. Give me some room."

Minjeong scoots to the right side of the bed as Eunbi starts to rid herself off her jeans. The younger one can't help but stare in envy at her mother's body. Every part of her seems to be made for perfection. Minjeong can't find a single flaw on her mother's body.

When she slowly pulls down her black panties, Minjeong takes in the sight of her mothers vagina. A weird feeling overcomes her. Is that where I came from?

It weird to think about it, so she brushes the thought away, when Eunbi finally sits next to her. Both of them rest their heads against the wall behind her bed.

"You have to warm up yourself first. So don't go in immediately. Start by teasing yourself."

Minjeong watches her mother as she starts to play with herself. Her fingers circling around her snatch and around her clit as well. She let's her own hand wander down her body, until it disappears inside her panties. She tries to mimick her mother's movements.

"Try to find something that feels good for you. I usually do this."

Eunbi forms a V with her pointer finger and middle finger, using it to slide up and down along her clit. Minjeong follows her movements once more. A deep sigh escapes her mouth at the new found feeling.

"That's the part where you start to think about someone. Think about a guy you like. How the two of you would kiss."

The both of them start to enter their own worlds, lying side by side. Minjeong catches herself altering the shape of her mouth as she imagines herself kissing the hottest guy at school. Karina's boyfriend.

"Once you are ready for the next step, start to push your fingers inside of you. You should be wet enough by now."

Eunbi follows her own words, letting two of her fingers enter her snatch. A deep moan escapes her mouth as she thinks about the last time she had sex. Meanwhile, Minjeong winces as she tries to put two fingers inside of her as well.

"M-Mom. It's not really working."

"Are you not doing it right? Let me try."

Without thinking, Eunbi lets her own fingers slip out of her, before she reaches inside Minjeong's panties. Minjeong moves her hand away, feeling her mother's fingers resting on her lower lips.

"If you've never done this before, try one finger at first."

Eunbi sinks a finger into her daughter's pussy.

"Mommy."

Minjeong moans as she feels her mother's finger move inside of her. Her walls tighten as she feels it glide along them.

"You're really tight, baby. Guys like that."

"R-Really?"

The younger one can't help but smile.

"I'm gonna try two fingers now, okay?"

Minjeong nods, watching her mother's hand inside her panties. Another moan escapes her, when a second finger joins the first.

"Oh god."

Another breathless moan escapes Minjeong's mouth. Eunbi told her to imagine herself with a guy she likes, but she is unable to do so. Her whole body and mind are focused on the two fingers inside of her. Minjeong catches herself slowly grinding against her mom's hand, letting out small whimpers.

"That's a good girl."

Eunbi said that a thousand times before. But this time, she feels dirty saying it. She realizes what she is actually doing. She is fingering her own daughter. She watches how Minjeong's eyelids flutter with every stroke of her fingers. How her back slightly arches off the wall. Her thighs rubbing against each other.

"Mommy."

That word sounds so dirty to Eunbi's ears, when Minjeong releases it in another needy moan.

The sight of her daughter shaking and moaning around her fingers proves too much for Eunbi. Her left hand finds its way towards her own pussy. And eventually, she starts to finger herself and her daughter at the same time.

"M-Mommy. This is the-the best."

Minjeong can't help but mewl. Her eyes are still closed, her empty hands trying to hold onto something for stability. Her mind gets overwhelmed by the pleasure that radiates from her mother's fingers inside of her.

Eunbi starts to finger herself faster as she feels her daughter's walls hug her fingers more and more. She has never done something like this with anyone before. The warmth that starts to rush through her body is something different than usual. It awakens something more primal in Eunbi. Her vision becomes a little fuzzy on the edges as she keeps fingering her own daughter.

When she looks at her, she can see Minjeong squirm on her sheets, begging her mother for more. Eunbi licks her lips, feeling the younger girls juices on her fingers. She eventually submits to her urges.

Eunbi removes her fingers from Minjeong's cunt, earning a disappointed and needy moan. She edges herself even more, moving her fingers to her mouth. She tastes her daughter's pussy juices on her finger.

Minjeong's eyes widen, when she sees her mother licking her fingers clean, before she starts to reposition herself. She ends up between Minjeong's legs, pulling down her panties.

"Mommy..."

Even Minjeong herself doesn't know what's going on with her own body. She can't help but buck her hips towards her mother's slightly parted lips, eager to feel another person's mouth on her pussy.

"Please..."

Her needy plea makes Eunbi finally throw all caution out the window. Flattening her tongue, she uses a big swipe along the length of Minjeong's pussy, to lap up her juices. The slightly salty taste hits her taste buds.

Minjeong's hands find themselves in her hair as she holds on for dear life, feeling her mother's tongue exploring her most intimate part.

"Mommy."

She can't help but say that word over and over again.

Eunbi starts to eat out her daughter, succumbing to the pleasure of her fingers, which still move inside her own pussy. The thoughts that tell her how wrong this is are being pushed to the back of her head. Her lust takes over. She wants to show her daughter how this feels like.

Mother and daughter moan in tandem as one eats the other out. While Minjeong's moans echo through the her room, Eunbi's stimulate the younger ones pussy even more. Her humms make her squirm on her sheets.

"So good, mommy."

Minjeong loses herself in a world of unknown pleasure. She has never felt this before. She feels how the warmth, starting out from her pussy, starts to spread through her body. A tingling sensation with it. Almost like waves. They rush through her, elevating her from one plateau to the next. Each gives her another spike of ecstasy. Another idea of what heaven must feel like.

"M-Mommy, I-I..."

Minjeong loses the ability to speak as she also loses control over her body and mind.

Eunbi watches in awe as her daughter orgasms in front of her. Wave after wave rushes through her body from head to toe. Each one stronger than the the previous one. Minjeong's hips lift off the mattress in a failed attempt to contain the pleasure within her.

Minjeong becomes undone in front of her mother's eyes. Eunbi, unable to look away from her daughter's climaxing body, eventually reaches her own high. She buries her face in the mattress. Shame and embarrassment are mixed with raw pleasure and love. She never even thought about doing this with her own daughter.

"Mommy...."

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Hi guys!

I tried to write something a little different than usual today. I got the idea for this from someone I text with on Wattpad. There will be more chapters for this, I hope you will look forward to them.

Stay healthy!

[naburi]

WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?

DAHYUN X READER

TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL

3.4K WORDS

Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.

You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.

“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.

“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.

Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.

It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.

Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.

Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.

Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.

You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.

She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.

“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.

“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.

To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.

You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.

You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you���re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.

It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.

There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.

You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.

Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.

You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.

Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.

You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.

You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.

The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.

“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.

[spdrvyn]

MIGUEL O’HARA — and places he’d kiss you in

rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesn’t exist so now we’re here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) ♡

☆ his lab, at work

like i’ve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isn’t the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when it’s just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.

that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether it’s to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.

he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments you’re both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. he’ll tell you about the day he’s had, you will tell him about yours in return, and he’ll wonder how he got so lucky.

☆ the park, early mornings

i’d like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.

you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when you’re tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.

there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an “uncoordinated” outfit (according to you. but he’d be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.

he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.

☆ at a restaurant, dinner time

on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if it’s too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.

either way, those nights are the ones where miguel’s romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply can’t stop and won’t stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesn’t know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when you’re around.

while you’re in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, he’ll break his ‘little to no PDA’ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.

☆ bonus: at home

when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.

normally, if you’re doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if you’re on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.

he will kiss you on your neck, or when he’s really tired, just leave his lips there. he’ll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.

i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man

[fish-crow-star-snowman]

LaDS Zayne Imagine

Zayne x reader/mc

angst, fluff, pregnancy and labor

You had gone into labor before you knew it. Everything was planned and carefully organized for the big day that your little one would arrive.

No one is ever really READY though. Your excitement and nervousness was getting the best of you. While Zayne whom was often on the other side of that spectrum, calm and collected as ever, was quite the nervous wreck himself.

He'd been at work all day, not too busy. Regardless, he hated leaving you at home. Prayed in hopes that he would conveniently be home by the time you went in labor. His heart dropped receiving a call from the obstetrician gynecology department of the hospital.

"Dr.Zayne, your wife is in labor."

Throughout the months of the pregnancy, there were several talks with your obgyn about this being possibly high-risk. Every possible scenario surged through Zayne's head. During the whole experience, you often were met with doctor Zayne rather than what you needed the most, your partner.

The second the call hung up, he was quick to run to your side. He'd already given notice to his colleagues prior to your arrival just in case. He was almost always prepared. Almost.

His eyes gleamed upon seeing your already exhausted but seemingly relieved look. While he's obviously glad to see you're okay, his attention turns to the doctor, another colleague.

"How is she doing, Dr.Turner?"

"Oh Dr.Zayne, it's been a while! How have you been holding up?"

Silence sweeps the room for what felt like an eternity. Zayne clearly was not in the mood for a reunion. The doctor opting to answer his question instead.

"She is one centimeter dilated. No imposing risks so far. It's been smooth sailing. However she's not progressing nearly as fast as we would like.

"How long has she been here?"

"3 hours, sir."

"Why wasn't I called earlier.."

His tone deepens, irritation seeping from his obviously overworked body. The doctor stayed quiet, knowing the words 'too busy' wouldn't have been a good enough answer.

"My love, I tried calling you first but you didn't pick up. I remembered you had a 6 hour surgery this morning. I chose to call an ambulance instead. I'm sorry."

Guilt stung his chest. Of all hours of the day, why. He walked to your side and took your hands in his, pressing your fingertips to his lips and whispered.

"You always come first. No matter what."

His words were meaningful and for a moment you had the man you had been longing to have for months. It was short-lived however.

Like the doctor predicted, it was an unusually long process. You didn't dilate your second centimeter until 6 hours after your partner's arrival at your room. It's been about 30 hours of nonstop cycles of contractions. Unbeknownst to him, Zayne hasn't been making things easier.

Both of you were completely worn out, haven't ate or slept. Zayne's surgeon mode was still on and you were about to combust. Talks with the doctors about your condition like you weren't in the room, like you were just another one of his patients. Looking over your chart and giving demands to the nurses as if he were still working.

You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure for you. Making sure you were in the best health at all times and he was doing an amazing job. It didn't change the fact it was making you feel a little alone in this. What you needed was his hands on yours, telling you that you were going to be okay. That you can do this. A kiss to your forehead every now and again for reassurance maybe?

Nine centimeters. Finally. You were close to the end and soon you'd be holding the proof of yours and Zayne's love. At least it's what it should have been but you were at your breaking point. Zayne had his back towards you still keeping up conversations with nurses.

"Zayne!"

He tensed hearing your strained shout. He turned to look at you with that oh so familiar concerned gaze. Everything was quiet once again. All that was heard was the sound of the monitors beeping. It was your turn to feel guilty.

You closed your eyes briefly and sucked in a deep breath before holding out your hands for him to take. Understanding your gesture, he walks to your bedside crouching slightly to your eye level.

You fought hard to keep the tears from spilling out of your water line. You spoke in the softest tone possible, in hopes to forget how you just yelled at him.

"You are an amazing doctor and I couldn't ask for a better one these past few months." You paused for a moment, letting a tear shed your cheek and huffing another breath. "But I would like to have my husband for this.. please.."

His eyes widened at the implication of your words and letting out a soft gasp of realization.

He stands up finally relieving himself of his white coat he had been wearing since yesterday and removed his glasses to set on your bedside table. It showed how disheveled he was underneath. Hair was a mess, tie crooked from his constant fidgeting and tugging, and two buttons at the top of his shirt undone.

Zayne motions you to scoot down your bed a little, sitting behind you to cradle you with his strong legs on both sides of your body. His fingers traced the back of your arms before resting them on your shoulder and giving them a tight squeeze. Small kisses made their way from your shoulder to your neck.

Your body reacted immediately, letting loose the tension you didn't know you even had.

"I'm sorry." Zayne's voice a little shaky but gentle and clear nonetheless. "I'm sorry I've left you alone in this. It was never my intention. I love you so much." He repeats those same two words over and over.

While you can feel your gown dampen from his own tears, you can't help but smile. This. This is what you needed to relax. Before you could open your mouth to respond, the obgyn breaks the moment.

"Alright, ten centimeters dilated. Are you ready to start pushing?"

Zayne drops his hands to your side, signaling for you to take them into your own as support. Placing more kisses to the top of your head, he whispers reassurances. 'You've got this' 'You can do it' 'You're so strong'.

You have a tight grip on his wrist threatening to break his arm, but he didn't seem to care. If he could take all your pain, he would. Dilation was a tiring process, everything after seemed to flow rather quickly. The head, then shoulders, and finally legs.

Within seconds of the doctors clearing your baby's nasal passage, you and Zayne hear that oh so beautiful sound you had been waiting for. Before moving on any further, the baby was placed on your now naked chest. You admired every inch of your baby, in awe. Thick black hair sat on top of their small head. Eyes glowing hues of orange and green.

You have a Zayne mini me. Speaking of which, distracted by your own emotions, you forgot to see how your husband was hanging on. And it definitely wasn't like you expected, he wasn't saying anything but he didn't have to. His expression said enough. Your baby already had him wrapped around their finger.

His hand came to rest upon yours that was cradling the back of the baby's head. "Thank you for this new chapter in life you've given me, my jasmine."

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Li, it's a—"

——————————————

a/n: I never intended this to be a fic, it was just meant to be an idea for a better fic writer. one who writes more. It just rolled this way. however if anyone wants to use this, please do. Just give me a little credit ❤️

[insidekatmind]

That Girl Is Mine ~ Kylian Mbappé × Reader × Vinícius Jr. (Feat. Jude Bellingham)

Madrid was the city of lights, football, and dreams. The Spanish capital buzzed with fans, paparazzi, and tourists wandering through its charming streets. You were there, an ordinary girl thrust into an extraordinary world. You worked as a sports journalist, but what no one knew—and what you carefully kept hidden—was your secret relationship with Jude Bellingham, the young talent of Real Madrid.

But your life was far from simple. Aside from the secrecy, there was a rather... awkward issue: two of your most famous colleagues, Kylian Mbappé and Vinícius Júnior, seemed to be in a constant battle for your attention.

It was a crisp December evening, and the Santiago Bernabéu was still glowing under the post-match lights. Real Madrid had just won an important match, and as usual, you were busy navigating the post-game interviews. Jude had thrown you a quick, meaningful glance as he passed by. That subtle smile of his was all you needed to feel reassured, even though you had to pretend it was just a casual gesture.

You were packing up your things when Kylian approached you. Still wearing his Real Madrid jersey, his forehead glistening with sweat, his confident and charming smile remained intact.

"Are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a drink with us? I’ve noticed you work too much," he said, his tone low but loaded with a suggestion you couldn’t ignore.

You smiled, keeping your tone professional. "Thanks, Kylian, but I have a lot of work to do."

"Ah, work, work..." he replied, shaking his head. "Sometimes, you need to live a little. You know, there’s so much of Madrid you haven’t seen yet. I could show you the city."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the conversation. "Show her the city? Kylian, I don’t think she needs a guide. I’ve lived here longer than you, remember?"

Vinícius had appeared beside you both, a provocative smile on his lips. It was clear he had been eavesdropping on every word. His eyes gleamed with challenge as he looked at his teammate. You, caught in the middle, felt like a pawn in a game you hadn’t chosen to play.

"Vinícius, same old," Kylian replied with a smile, though his eyes betrayed a certain tension. "I wasn’t talking to you, anyway."

Vinícius turned to you. "So, what do you say? The city of Madrid is much more interesting than Kylian can make it seem. We could explore the real neighborhoods, away from the tourists."

It was as if the world had stopped around you. You needed an excuse, fast. "Thanks to both of you, but honestly, I’m tired tonight. Maybe another time."

They didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t much else they could do but let you go.

Later that evening, you were finally home. Your phone buzzed, and you smiled at Jude’s message.

Jude: "Everything okay? I saw Kylian and Vini hanging around you… I’m jealous. See you tomorrow after training, okay?"

You quickly replied. "Everything’s fine, I promise. See you tomorrow."

Your conversations were simple, sweet, and reassuring. Jude was your anchor amidst the chaos. But the next day, things became even more complicated.

During training at Valdebebas, you were there for a series of interviews. It was impossible to ignore the looks Kylian and Vinícius kept throwing your way as they ran on the field. Even Jude seemed to notice, though he remained focused on his drills.

After the session, Kylian was the first to approach. "You know, yesterday I couldn’t help but notice you always seem distant. Is something wrong? Can I help?"

You were trying to form a reply when Vinícius interrupted, wiping his face with a shirt. "Hey, Kylian, are you interrogating her? Maybe she just wants a bit of peace."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Vini," Kylian shot back, his tone irritated.

"Guys, please," you intervened, trying to stay calm. "I’m just doing my job."

But inside, your heart was pounding. Their interest was flattering, but also a problem. You couldn’t afford for anyone to find out about your relationship with Jude. And yet, every glance and every word exchanged only heightened the tension.

That evening, as you sat with Jude at your secret spot—a small café hidden in the heart of Madrid—you told him everything. He listened attentively, his face serious.

"I don’t like the way they’re acting," he said, squeezing your hand under the table. "But I understand we can’t do anything for now. I promise we’ll find a way to live all of this out in the open one day."

You smiled at him, feeling safe in his presence. Jude wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your refuge amidst the chaos of a life that felt like a novel. But you knew the story between you, Kylian, and Vinícius was far from over. And Madrid, with its lights and secrets, was the perfect stage for the next act.

The tension was palpable, like a taut rope about to snap. Over the following days, Kylian and Vinícius’s gestures and attitudes became more explicit. Seemingly innocent comments turned into subtly suggestive remarks, lunch invitations, and lingering glances. Jude, despite his calm and rational nature, had begun to show signs of irritation.

One evening, after a crucial match at the Bernabéu, things came to a head.

After the game, while you were gathering material for an article, Vinícius approached you in the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. He was still sweaty, but his mischievous smile was flawless.

"So, have you thought about my invitation? I’ll take you somewhere no one knows, guaranteed. Just you and me, no distractions," he said, his tone a bit too familiar for your liking.

Before you could respond, Kylian appeared behind you both, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, Vini, aren’t you tired of playing the romantic? Sorry for you, but I think her time is already booked for the evening."

You sighed, trying to stay calm. "Guys, enough with these games. I’ve already told you I’m not interested."

Vinícius laughed, leaning slightly forward as if he found it all incredibly amusing. "Really? You don’t seem that uninterested."

It was then that Jude appeared, striding out of the locker room with a determined walk. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, his face was tense, his gaze a mix of anger and resolve.

"Vini, Kylian, stop," he said, his voice calm but authoritative. Both turned to him, surprised.

Kylian crossed his arms, frowning. "And what does this have to do with you, Jude?"

"It has everything to do with me," Jude replied, stepping closer. He glanced at you briefly before addressing them directly. "She’s my girlfriend. And she has been for a long time. So, with all due respect, you need to stop."

The silence that followed was deafening. Vinícius and Kylian stood frozen, unable to hide their shock. Your heart was racing, but you also felt a sense of relief. Finally, the truth was out.

"Are you serious?" Kylian asked, incredulous. "She’s...?"

"Yes," Jude said firmly, locking eyes with them. "And now that you know, I’m asking you to respect us."

Vinícius looked almost offended. "And you thought to tell us like this, after all this time? Maybe you should have made it clear earlier."

"It wasn’t your business," Jude shot back, his tone hard. "But now you know. Enough with the games."

Kylian ran a hand through his hair, trying to process it all. Then he looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. "And you? Why didn’t you ever tell us?"

"I couldn’t," you said, your voice firm but calm. "We wanted to keep it private. That doesn’t mean I was playing with you."

Kylian nodded slowly, as if trying to come to terms with the situation. Vinícius, on the other hand, looked less convinced but said nothing. After a few moments of tension, they both walked away, leaving you alone with Jude.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jude turned to you, his face softening. "I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand seeing them act like that anymore. They needed to know."

You stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. "You did the right thing. I couldn’t take it anymore either."

Jude sighed, pulling you into a hug. "From now on, no more secrets. I don’t care what people say. What matters is that it’s us."

You melted into his embrace, finally feeling free. Even though you knew the gossip would start soon, you didn’t care anymore. Madrid was full of secrets, but yours was no longer one of them.

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

[ellies1luvr]

dealer!ellie x reader

(head cannons)

based on the song daddy issues by the neighborhood

A/n: Im writing this on my notes app, have never written before but i fear if i don’t write this it will never be written😅 currently going though a situation ship and im very touched starved so that is wear this is coming from‼️

Idc if minors read

please give me feedback even if its not the nicest it is really appreciated!!

TW: erm lesbians, reader having daddy issues, casual by chappell roan mentioned, crying, panic attacks, anxiety, reader sits on ellies lap, weed, lmk if i missed anything!! no use of y/n‼️

Dealer Ellie who met you at a party having panic attack

Dealer Ellie who brought you back to a random couch at the frat party and gave you free weed to calm you down while having a meaningful conversations

Dealer ellie who drove you home and got your phone number

Now anytime you have a panic attack or anything close to one, you call ellie and she comes over with free weed/ holds your hand and comforts you the whole time

“hey pretty girl” “there you go pretty”

when you smoke to much shes there to ground you

“its okay baby i got you, your safe with me”

Soon after you both catch feelings, not telling each other because you don’t want to ruin whats going on.

You call ellie one afternoon asking if she can come over, shes really busy but you dont need to know that and comes over.

you both end up confessing your feelings and make out on the couch, soon you both fall asleep in each others arms

by the end of that night you and ellie are bound by the hip (i think thats how the saying goes?? idk) ellie always with you in someway or some form.

Ellie soon finds out about your attachment issues and fear shes gonna leave you in some way, (hints daddy issues😅) but that fear is soon subsided by ellie and her always with and doting on you

at the beginning of you and ellies relationship, you tried not to get too comfortable but as soon as you do, you are clinging to ellie all the time.

(deals, in classes, restaurants, idk but always touching ellie and ellie always with or touching you in some way)

Getting with ellie didnt stop all your panic attacks or anxiety, when bad panic attacks would happen you would sit on ellies lap with a tv show playing in the background, ellie lighting a blunt, lightly placing it between your lips watching you inhale and exhale

Dealer ellie making that collage dealer bank, would take you shopping all the time.

no matter what your style, hyperfem, on the masculine side, or neither she would spoil the hell out of you.

You and ellie dont have sex untill about a month into the relationship, deciding to take it slow

You and ellie rarely ever got in fights, (you being sensitive also hints daddy issues😅) would cry when ellie raised her voice at you, not trying to be manipulative in the way that anytime you two get in disagreements you cry, but when she would yell, yes.

“ellie that girl was flirting with you i saw it”

“babe no she wasnt”

“ellie please just stop dealing to her”

“babe its my fucking job to deal what do you expect for a dealer in a collage campus not to get hit on?!”

when she heard sniffles her heart immediately dropped realizing that she yelled.

safe to say that girl never got another ounce of weed from ellie again.

i feel like all of ellies past relationships were just “casual” but with you it was very different!

Red wine supernova by chappell roan is definitely her favorite song on rise and fall of a midwest princess (but she relates to casual 😅 the most)

The first time she took you to meet joel you cried bc your dad cut you off once he found out you were gay , and especially not a dad like joel

one time when you amd ellie once woke up early enough to make breakfast before classes, you started a playlist on you phone

Naked in manhattan by chappell roan started playing, you started dancing and ellie soon followed hugging you from behind kissing your neck

Suggestive

at party’s when ellies dealing, you would always be perched on her lap, facing ellie, counting her freckles

Ellie being ellie is horny when shes high, you being you are emotional when high but that doesnt stop yall from having heated moments when both of yall are high.

i feel like ellie would have Lunch by billie eilish playing when shes high and that always leads to a long (fun) night

thanks for reading dykes‼️

[ghouljams]

'Til Death (Remember Me in Your Will): Chapter 2

Rating: Mature (Minors Do Not Interact) Words: 4.4k Tags: David "Hesh" Walker/F!Reader, Sugar Daddy au, Dom/sub undertones, flirting Summary: You start dating Hesh as a way to supliment your income. It's not like you've never sugared before, you know how to play this game. It's just too bad Hesh seems to have his own ideas about what this relationship is.

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ao3

To be honest you don’t expect a call the next day. Despite the dinner, the kiss, the expressed desire to get to know you, something had to have been wrong for him to not take you home. So you busy yourself with work, and text your other sugar daddies when they pop up in your messages. You take your work bestie, Mari, to your favorite sandwich place for lunch and enjoy the chatter. You don’t think about the heavy hand that had settled on your back, the stroke of calloused fingers, the heady rush of Hesh’s attention. You have other things to worry about.

“You alright?” Mari asks when you shudder at the shivery feeling memory shakes down your spine.

“Fine,” You tell her, too quickly. She raises a brow in response and you roll your eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing. I had a weird date last night.”

“Date date, or…” She waves a hand, filling in the blank with a meaningful look. She’s not a fan of mentioning your other work out loud. You suppose you get it, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but it works for you.

“Other kind of date.” You clarify.

“What was wrong with him?” She asks, picking the tomato off her sandwich.

“Nothing,” You shrug, “He was perfectly polite, paid for everything, looked good in a suit-”

“But bad in bed?” Mari finishes.

“He didn’t even take me home.” You correct, and she gives you a look like ‘what’s wrong with you then?’ You can’t blame her. You’re wondering the same thing. “He hasn’t even texted me today.” You admit.

“Yikes.” Mari hisses, “Not good.”

“I know,” you groan, “but there’s plenty of fish in the sea, and I have plenty of other, uh,” you pause trying to find the best word for them for public conversation, “dates.”

Your phone buzzes on the table next to you with an incoming text. You give it a quick glance and feel your heart squeeze with something like disappointment that it isn’t Hesh. It’s one of your other innocuously named sugar daddies. First name, last name, with no discerning emojis or nicknames. Honestly you’d hesitated to put Hesh’s name in as “Hesh” but he’d said at dinner he rarely heard anyone call him “David” these days. Still, it felt almost intimate to plug those four letters into your phone.

It’s a daddy that doesn’t mind waiting on your texts, likely just checking in to see when the next time you can organize a date is, so you turn your attention back to Mari. You’re not a fan of texting when you’re with someone else, and it’s not urgent, so you’re fine ignoring it.

“Not the new guy?” Mari correctly guesses. You sigh, lean back in your chair and drag a hand down your face.

“Nah, one of the older ones.” You tell her. She makes a face.

“I don’t know how you do it,” She shakes her head.

“I don’t know how you eat your tomatoes separate from your sandwich, but I’m not judging.” You retort. 

“Fair enough,” She nods, plucking an aforementioned tomato slice off her plate and taking a bite. “Don’t you think about finding, like, a real relationship?” She mumbles around her mouthful.

“Ugh,” You make a face, “After what happened with Josh?”

“Point taken.” Mari makes a face in return. “Hey can I have half your sandwich?”

All business, she offers you half of her sandwich in return, already plucked clean of tomato. You laugh and pick up one half of your meal to trade her. 

You’re walking back to work when you spot a familiar face.

You grab Mari’s arm and haul her closer to duck down and hide behind her. Or at least hide as best you can, you get your face out of view. Mari looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“That’s Hesh,” You hiss at her as she raises a brow, “the guy from last night.” She glances around. “Brown hair, black coat, tall.”

You know when Mari spots him because her eyes go wide.

“And gorgeous?” She whisper-yells at you, “What is wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you lead with that?”

“Him being good looking is not the problem,” You whisper, “it was a bad date, I don’t want to see him.”

“You said it was fine,” Mari mutters, shuffling along with you despite her grumbling.

“Not if he won’t text me!” 

Mari keeps looking at him, totally un-subtle with her glancing. “Maybe he thought you would text him?” She reasons, you glare at her, “He keeps checking his phone, and he’s, like, with people.”

“Oh my god.” You groan, “Just get me out of here.”

“Just keep walking you fuckin’ dork, he’s not even looking over here.” It’s Mari’s turn to haul you, dragging you in the opposite direction of your failed sugar daddy and towards your building. You try not to look too pathetic a mopey as you trudge along beside her. You desperately want to mope though. Just your luck to run into the guy that wants nothing to do with you.

You manage to make it through the last few hours of your work day without incident, your work tiring enough without the added headache of a man’s feelings.

You turn them over in your head though. Maybe he was waiting for you to text him. If he was he didn’t know much about how this worked, but then again he didn’t seem like he’d done this before. Part of you felt a little bad at the idea you were ghosting Hesh. Inadvertently ghosting, but ghosting nonetheless. 

It was just that so much of the relationship came with a script. Your interactions with him weren’t free, and it was his job to know that. Especially after he turned you down last night. If he really does want to get to know you better then why the fuck hasn’t he texted you? It’s not like you’re sitting around waiting for him. If Mari is right then the only person who’s waiting around is Hesh. You have other people to cater to.

Speaking of. You tug your phone out of your pocket and skim the short text one of your daddies sent you at lunch. Nothing unusual, asking about meeting up for the weekend, offering some time by the country club’s pool in exchange for your usual allowance and his usual dicking. You click over to your calendar, you could do this weekend. Saturday maybe, then you could do brunch with one of the “busy” ones on Sunday. 

Your fingers hover over Hesh’s name. You could text him. It wouldn’t break your protocol or anything to text him and just let him know that you’re open to getting to know him as well. You just need to make sure he understands that getting to know you comes with a price tag. You’re not dating him, not really, and he needs to know that as well as you do.

If he’s looking for someone to get to know, it isn’t you.

You lock your phone and focus back on your work.

The sun is setting by the time you clock out. Your computer is still warm in your bag as you meander to your car. You’d gotten a few texts about scheduling from daddy #1 and you were feeling decent about your weekend plans. You check your phone for the hundredth time as you start your car. Still nothing from Hesh. You don’t know why you bother sitting in the empty chat you have with him, your phone hasn’t buzzed, no typing bubble has popped up, and you’ve lost all hope that the guy had any real interest in you. It was a good date, but something about you didn’t fit for him and he wasn’t going to call you.

You’ll check out your usual sites once you’re home, see about finding someone to fill the gap he was supposed to fill in your monthly expenses.

Or you could bite the bullet and text him first, your rational brain reminds you. Why the hell are you playing hard to get when he’d be paying to see you? Hell you’re probably the easiest thing to get, basically a product on display at the store. 

The least you could do is just check that he isn’t interested.

Your apartment feels painfully empty when you open the door. The box of Josh’s things is still sitting by the door. You’re not texting him again to come get his garbage. You’ll pitch it at the end of the week. Honestly you don’t think you miss him as much as you miss his dog. Maybe you should think about getting one again.

You scroll through petfinder as you kick off your shoes and lock the apartment door behind you. Maybe you should crack open a bottle of wine with dinner. Fuck, what are you even having for dinner? You fire off a quick text to one of your friends with a link to one of the dogs on petfinder as you glance over your stock of leftovers. 

She gets back to you fast, you thought she was working late today, didn’t she have a shift at the hospital? You glance at your notifications, paypal.

“Hesh Walker sent you-”

Your eyes widen a little, fuck that’s a lot of money. What the hell? He doesn’t text you all day and now he’s-

[Hesh Walker: Was starting to think I scared you off.] Flashes at the top of your screen. 

You tap on the text and note that you sent the listing for “Java, 12 weeks” to Hesh, not Hana. His typing bubble pops up and you quickly switch to a different app. You’re popped back into paypal, staring at four digits with no tag. 

Was he waiting on you to text him? 

[Hesh Walker: The dog’s cute.] At the top of the screen, then:

[Hesh Walker: image]

Your finger hovers over the button to quick switch between apps. You tap it twice and are treated to a photo of a dopey looking german shepherd. Its mouth is open with its tongue hanging out the side, a little white greys its muzzle but it’s eyes are big and watery. Puppy. 

[Who’s that?] you type out quickly. Too preoccupied with the thought of more dog photos to remember he sent you way too much money for just a text.

[Hesh Walker: Riley.]

[Hesh Walker: Busy day?]

You frown, it’s exactly the sort of tactic you’d use to figure out why a daddy hadn’t been responding to your texts. Which means he was definitely waiting on you to text him. Why? You’re not exactly ascribed to traditional relationship markers, but wasn’t the guy supposed to text first after a date.

[Didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.] You tell him instead of delving into your personal life. [Turned me down pretty hard after our date.]

The typing bubbles pop up, leave, pop up, leave several times before Hesh sends something.

[Hesh Walker: I’m sorry.]

You blink at your screen. You think this might be the first time a man has just… flat out apologized to you. No trying to explain it, no trying to make excuses, just a flat apology. 

[Hesh Walker: I meant what I said about getting to know you.]

[Aren’t you a gentleman

[So no sex?

[That’s not really how this-

You delete your third text in a row. You don’t want to be too sassy after he just paid you. God, he paid you. You don’t even know what he paid you for.

[What’s the money for?] You send instead of responding to his text.

[Hesh Walker: For texting me.]

[Hesh Walker: I’m trying to buy your love.]

You laugh and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. Despite being alone in your apartment you feel a little embarrassed for laughing at such a corny joke. 

[So what are the rules here?] You respond with a smile.

[Hesh Walker: Why don’t we grab coffee and talk it out.]

Your eyes flick towards the ceiling trying to remember if you’d scheduled that brunch date for Sunday. God, you really should schedule some time with your friends too. 

[How about brunch, Sunday?]

[Hesh Walker: My treat.]

[Of course.]

You close your phone and go back to rummaging through your fridge. You could order take-out, but you already went out to eat today, you can’t throw all your money into food. Maybe pasta? Or you have some chicken left over from- from- Jesus you need to get groceries.

Your phone buzzes.

[Hesh Walker: Gonna ask it again: how was your day?]

You type out your reply quickly, resigning yourself to take-out. [Fine, just trying to figure out dinner.] You switch to your favorite delivery app and start scrolling. What looks good? It’s been a long day, you haven’t really given yourself the time to think about food.

[Hesh Walker: Staying in or going out?]

[Ordering in

You tap your finger against the side of your phone. You’re not doing great at texting this guy, he’s given you money, he deserves more than a two word answer. You delete your reply and type a longer one.

[Thinking of ordering in, but I haven’t decided yet. What about you?]

Perfect. As much as it’s moderately annoying having to switch between apps when you’re trying to use one, you don’t like being dismissive with the guys paying your rent. You do have some manners after all.

[Hesh Walker: I was going to check out this pop-up.]

He sends a link along with his text and you tap it open to look over the small plates and fancy pictures. The food looks phenomenal, and the restaurant itself has a sort of cozy, intimate, vibe that you’re sure is every influencer’s nightmare. Which means it’s not just a shitty gimmick restaurant.

[Looks cool!]

[Hesh Walker: Great, I’ll pick you up.]

You blink at your phone. What?

[What?]

The typing bubble pops up and you watch each little dot bounce as you wait.

[Hesh Walker: They’re going to give me a two-top whether you’re with me or not, and if I’m going to have dinner I’d rather it be with you.]

[Hesh Walker: So I’ll pick you up.]

[You don’t know where I live.] Is the only thing you can think to respond with.

[Hesh Walker: Then send me your address.] Like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

You drum your finger against the side of your phone again, tap tap tapping at your phone case as if the steady rhythm will solve all your problems. Nevermind that you didn’t agree to dinner, can you really just send this man your address? He seemed nice at dinner last night, and if he did turn out to be a murderer it wouldn’t be hard to find him considering how public his (and your) profile on the website you’d used was.

Your stomach grumbles as you think.

Shhh.

You send Mari a quick update on the situation and let her know that if you’re not at work in the morning the police should definitely be called, before sending her Hesh’s profile picture.

[Mari: 👀]

[Mari: that’s the man you fumbled???]

[Mari: previously fumbled sorry]

[Mari: I’ll let the cops know they’re looking for the hottest man in California.]

You roll your eyes and switch back to Hesh’s messages, take a deep breath and send your address through.

[Hesh Walker: Be there in 30]

Thirty? Thirty minutes? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Okay. 

You hurry to your bedroom to strip out of your work clothes and dig through your closet for something date-worthy. You’ll barely have time to slap some makeup on, and --Christ-- is this a heels sort of place?

You sniff one of your dresses to be sure it’s clean and tug it from the hanger. You scroll the pop-up’s instagram to see if there are any customer photos. Definitely worth dressing up a bit, you learned your lesson after your first sugar daddy: Better to be overdressed than underdressed for dinner. You pull a pair of heels out from under your bed and check your time. Ok, looking good. You tug the heels on and stand in front of your mirror. Looking good there too. You’ll grab a jacket and- fuck you have to change your backpack out for a purse.

You’re barely put together by the time someone’s knocking on your apartment door. Which shouldn’t happen. The building has a doorman. Is he just letting people up? 

You try not to look harried when you slip out the door to greet Hesh. You shut the door tight behind you, unwilling to let him get a peek at your apartment. 

He looks good, that same long black coat he was wearing earlier opened to reveal a deep navy suit that- no that- that’s definitely an officer’s coat. Your eyes dart to the ribbons over his breast pocket, the colorful lines delineating service, the brass buttons, the pins. Fuck, is he in uniform?

You drag your eyes to his face. His green eyes sparkle, creased at the edges by his smile. You pointedly do not look at his mouth, even as memories of last night’s kiss fill your mind.

“Are you in uniform?” You ask, unsure where to start the evening when you haven’t had any time to prepare.

Hesh hums, his hand slipping to press against the small of your back, guiding you away from your door.

“I didn’t have time to change, just came from the base.” He informs you. You have to focus on the way you walk, overly conscious of how close he’s walking, the way your arm brushes his side each time you take a step, you can smell his cologne. Rich and earthy, musk with a heady bourbon finish. You spare a glance at his face, trace the proud line of his nose down to the pink lips. The 5 o’clock shadow he’s wearing makes you think he’s telling the truth. “You look beautiful.” His thumb rubs against your dress, sending a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickle your skin. God, you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” You don’t mention how off guard his invitation caught you, but you sort of want to, he should know the hell he’s put you through today, “I thought this place deserved a little dressing up.”

“Nothing for me then?” Hesh asks. You glance to make sure he’s joking and find him grinning at you. Your stomach flips. You must be hungrier than you thought.

“Not after ghosting me all day,” You tell him with a smile, a joke for a joke.

“Thought you’d wanna take charge,” He tells you, he nods at your doorman, his hand itches lower, fingers just skating over the edge of your panties. His voice is low when he leans close, dripping like caramel down your spine to settle between your legs, “But if you’re happier taking orders, I’m very good at giving them.”

“Military humor.” Is all your brain can spit out to respond with. It doesn’t do anything but make Hesh hum, his hand sliding low over your ass, big and warm and absolutely tantalizing.

“Something like that.”

The only thing you remember from the car ride to the restaurant is Hesh’s hand on your thigh. You think maybe you talked about something, but mostly you’d been too focused on why your body seemed so focused on something so simple. Were you really so used to doing the seducing that you couldn’t handle when a man took the lead?

No, that wasn’t it. Plenty of the men you sugared for were assertive. All of them, at least, knew what they wanted and how to ask for it. It shouldn’t make your head spin just to feel a hand on your thigh.

It had been like this on your first date with him too, you’d forgotten all about the money because he was just so… magnetic. That’s what it is. Some background trait, some square of his shoulders, that makes people look when Hesh walks in the room. You could lose yourself in it if you aren’t careful, forget what you were here for.

A text about your electric bill snaps you out of your thoughts as Hesh discusses his reservation with the hostess. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You’re here for the money.

Hesh’s hand finds the small of your back again and you stiffen without meaning to.

“Don’t tell me you’ve dropped the seductive act already,” He teases in a low voice, leaning close. You pout your lips and tip your head to look up at him.

“You wound me, I wasn’t acting, I really am that hot.” You like the way he smiles in response, the low acknowledging hum he gives you as he guides you to follow the hostess to your table.

“I can’t argue with that.” Again the deep cadence of his voice sends goosebumps over your skin.

He pulls your chair out for you. It’s not the first time a man has done that, not even the first time Hesh has done it, you’re used to it, there’s no magic in the gesture, and yet…

You sip your water as Hesh takes his seat, ignoring him as much as you can get away with while he orders wine. It’s just because he caught you off guard with the impromptu dinner invitation. You’re off your game, you just need to slip back into the right headspace. You need to get hold of the reins again.

“So how was your day?” You ask when the waiter leaves to fetch whatever bottle Hesh decided on. You need him talking about himself, something to let you find the undesirable parts of him. 

“Boring, and I doubt you want to hear about military forms all evening.” He responds easily.

“You never told me what exactly you do,” You remind him, as if you’ve just remembered yourself. He pauses, and gives you a long look, before settling his elbows on the table and leaning forward to speak in that low soothing tone.

“You’ll have to get to know me better to learn that sweetheart,” He smiles, “can’t go spilling military secrets to just anyone.”

“What?” You smile, matching his posture, you feel yourself falling into that familiar working headspace as you push your tits against the neckline of your dress, “You think I could be some foreign agent?”

“Tryin’ to seduce me aren’t you?” Hesh responds, though there’s no accusation in his tone.

“Is it working?” You ask, tipping your head. You wish he’d kiss you. He’s so close, his face just inches from yours. His eyes flick to your lips, like he can read your mind. 

He hums in assent.

You squeeze your legs together under the table, stifle the breathy noise that rises in your throat as your stomach flips.

He sits back, and you’re treated to the slow drag of his eyes over you, hot and heavy on your skin, burning like fingertips as he waits for you to move. You aren’t even sure you want to, there’s a part of you that likes this, that likes being on display for Hesh. Validating in some way that attention from the rest of your daddies isn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s younger. Maybe it’s the way he leans back in his chair and tips his head, like he has all the time in the world to oogle you.

You jump back into your seat when the waiter returns with the wine.

You don’t even hear them rattle off the menu.

Nor do you put up any fight when Hesh orders for you.

You’re too conscious of the way your dress brushes your skin, the way your hair tickles against your neck, the way the warm restaurant air slides over your body with each person that passes your table. You’re too conscious of the way Hesh watches every move you make.

And yet the conversation is so easy, so effortless, that you hardly notice you’ve finished your meal.

Hesh stops in front of your building. You’d expected something different when he’d said he was taking you home. It seems you are, once again, being denied a proper end to your date. Impromptu date. You try not to let it sting.

“Thanks for the ride,” You try not to let your voice give anything away, grabbing the handle and turning to get out of the car. You don’t get far before Hesh’s hand has grabbed the back of your head and turned you back towards him, his lips sealing over yours. You exhale sharply through your nose, letting your eyes drop closed as he kisses you. His lips move against yours, an insistent push-pull that coaxes you into following, lures you into parting your lips for his tongue as it swipes over their seam. 

He positively devours you, his mouth hungry and the hand on your head demanding as he licks into your mouth and twists his tongue against yours. You suck on the wet muscle testingly, and feel the satisfied groan that rumbles through his chest. It emboldens you enough to push into him, to lean your weight into the kiss as you tilt your head, your hands finding the lapels of his coat to try and holding him in place as his teeth catch your bottom lip. 

You do your best to follow his lead, your hips aching with how you’ve turned towards him. All you can think about is crawling into Hesh’s lap and grinding your hips against him, feeling his big hands stroking over your curves, his deep voice murmuring in your ear. You make a small noise into the kiss, and the hand on the back of your head tightens. 

Your seatbelt is already off, it’s easy to lean further across the console, to settle your hand on his thigh as you press into him. Your fingers brush the hard clothed length of his cock and your breath shudders to a stop as Hesh hisses.

His hand clamps over yours, pressing your palm against his hard cock like a lifeline, and for a brief moment you think he might fuck you in his car. You’re not opposed to it. He pulls your hand away from his lap and sets it back in your own.

“Thank you,” He tells you steadily, “this was fun.”

“Are you not-” He shakes his head, and kisses you once, chaste.

It’s like dumping cold water over your head.

“I’ll see you Sunday.” He assures you.

You don’t bother watching him drive off with how quickly you stalk back to your apartment, cheeks burning with the shame of yet another rejection.

[starryinkart]

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)

Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I don’t think I’ve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao 🤣

Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!😓

{Colorless Lines Below!!}

Headcannons for them below too!!!

———————

Some headcannons in the show universe cause I’m feeling fun:

- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!

- Catnap doesn’t talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.

- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking people’s heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.

- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.

-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.

- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.

- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.

- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didn’t belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.

- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!

- Kickin doesn’t really like or trust Catnap much, and doesn’t try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.

- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.

- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.

- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. He’s tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think he’s acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.

———————

If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didn’t forget, things have just been busy!!

ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend 👀👀👀 Perhaps some angst or something fun?

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 14

AN: Here’s a cutesy little chapter to offset all the anxiety and negativity anyone is feeling 🫶🏼. Let me know what you think! Also I want to start doing one shots and short stories so give me prompts if you have any!

Word Count: 3.8k

The next two weeks had been relentless. UConn’s schedule was a grueling one, with what felt like back-to-back games, long practices, and film sessions that drained every bit of energy from the team. The exhaustion was palpable in the gym, the locker rooms, and especially in the quiet moments between drills. They barely had time to breathe, let alone have fun. It wasn’t even March yet, but it felt like the postseason was already knocking at their door.

When they did get a rare break, the team found themselves sprawled out in each other’s rooms, barely able to keep their eyes open, let alone engage in conversation. It was in one of these rare moments of downtime after practice that Paige, sitting at the counter in the kitchen created for the athletic department, suddenly stood up and interrupted the idle chatter around her.

“I want to do something nice for Azzi today,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise of teammates munching on sandwiches and sipping from water bottles. “We have the rest of the day off, and I know she’s exhausted, but I feel like she deserves something special.”

The others paused, turning their attention toward her. There was a moment of silence as they processed what Paige had said.

“What, like a massage?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not like that,” Paige said with a small laugh. “I mean, sure, maybe later, but something more… personal. Lowkey, but private. Something just for her. We’ve been so busy lately, and I know she’s feeling it just as much as I am.”

“I get it,” Ice said, leaning back in his chair. “You wanna give her a little break from all the noise. But what are you thinking?”

Paige’s gaze shifted to the floor as she thought about it for a second. “It doesn’t need to be big. Just something small but meaningful. I want it to be a surprise, though. Nothing too public. I don’t want anyone ruining it.”

The team began to talk among themselves, exchanging ideas. After a few minutes, they finally agreed. They’d create a quiet, intimate evening for the two of them—something simple but personal that would give Paige and Azzi a chance to reconnect away from the madness of their schedules.

The team quickly got to work brainstorming, their collective energy shifting from exhaustion to excitement as they plotted out the details. After tossing around a few ideas, KK’s eyes lit up, and she shot a glance at the ceiling, clearly visualizing the perfect setup.

“What if we do something on the roof?” she suggested, her tone a bit more animated. “You know, like a little oasis up there. Away from everyone. We could make it super private, and no one would bother you two.”

The room went quiet for a moment as everyone thought it over.

“Wow KK that actually sounds nice,” Ice said, clearly impressed. “We could make it romantic, too. Some lights, candles, maybe even rose petals on the ground leading to a little space where you two can relax. Create a cozy, intimate vibe.”

Paige smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. The idea was simple, yet thoughtful—exactly what she had envisioned. “Yeah, something like that. I want it to be a surprise for Azzi, so it needs to feel special without being over the top.”

“Rose petals are a must,” KK said. “We’ll make a rose carpet. Maybe get some string lights to hang around the area, too. Something soft and cozy.”

The more they talked, the more the idea started to take shape. They’d gather blankets and pillows to go in an insulated pod—something that would shield them from the cold wind, making it feel like their own little private hideaway in the middle of the chaos. The whole space would be adorned with candles to create a soft, warm glow. Paige’s heart fluttered just thinking about it—this would be a perfect way to unwind, to share a quiet moment with Azzi away from everything.

“Okay, but we need to make sure no one else finds out about it,” Paige added, her voice serious but filled with a hint of excitement. “I don’t want anyone crashing our little escape.”

“Don’t worry,” Ice said with a wink. “We’ll make sure it stays a secret. It’s your night, and no one’s gonna ruin it.”

“Perfect,” Paige said, already feeling the anticipation building in her chest. “I’ll throw in some money for whatever we need, and we’ll get this done. I’ll text Azzi and let her know I’ll be up to her room soon, but I won’t say anything more.”

The team nodded in agreement, rallying together as they began to coordinate the setup. KK was already making phone calls to get the supplies, while Ice and the others gathered the blankets and candles. Paige pulled out her wallet and tossed three hundred dollars onto the table, watching as the team sprang into action.

With everything in motion, Paige quickly sent Azzi a text: “I’ll be up to your room soon.” She smiled to herself, the excitement building with every second. She was finally doing something just for them, something that would show Azzi how much she meant to her, how much she appreciated everything they had together.

…

Paige entered Azzi’s room quietly, the door creaking slightly as she pushed it open. She found Azzi sprawled out on the bed, looking completely drained, her hair fanned out across the pillows, eyes half-closed as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. A soft chuckle escaped Paige’s lips at the sight—Azzi looked as if she could fall asleep in the next moment.

Without saying a word, Paige crossed the room and crawled onto the bed, settling beside Azzi. She lay on her side, propping her head up with her hand as she looked at her girlfriend.

Azzi let out a small sigh, barely acknowledging Paige’s presence at first. “You’re here,” she murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.

Paige smirked playfully. “I mean, where else would I be?”

Azzi shifted slightly, her fingers tracing the soft scar above Paige’s eyebrow, the one that still hadn’t completely faded from the Notre Dame game. “You’re always getting into trouble,” she said softly, her finger lingering on the scar as she gave Paige a half-smile. “But this one, it’s kinda cute. Like a battle wound.”

Paige smiled, the comment making her feel lighter, and she placed her hand over Azzi’s. “Guess I’ll just have to keep getting into trouble, huh?” She rolled onto her back, gazing up at the ceiling as they both relaxed for a moment in the silence of the room. The weight of their exhausting schedules hung heavy in the air, but this quiet moment together felt like a small escape.

Azzi yawned, stretching out her arms above her head before pulling her legs back under the covers. “I’m so tired,” she mumbled, her voice trailing off as she cuddled into the warmth of the bed. “We need a break from all this. I’m not even sure I have the energy for anything.”

Paige chuckled softly, rolling onto her side to face Azzi. “I know what you mean. But hey, we’ve got all day. We don’t need to do anything crazy. Just… relax for a little bit.”

Azzi's eyelids fluttered, and she gave Paige a tired smile. “I’m honestly happy just being here with you.”

Paige’s heart warmed at the words, and she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Azzi’s forehead. They stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the quiet.

But then Paige’s phone buzzed on the bed beside her. She glanced at the screen to see a message from Ice: Everything’s ready.

She bit her lip, looking down at Azzi. As tempting as it was to stay in bed all day, Paige couldn’t let Azzi miss out on the surprise.

Gently, she nudged Azzi, her voice light. “Hey, I need you to get up,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Get dressed—cozy clothes. We’re going somewhere.”

Azzi groaned softly, not even bothering to open her eyes. “Do I have to?” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m so comfortable right here.”

Paige grinned, fully aware of how hard it was going to be to get Azzi out of bed. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing the top of Azzi’s head as she whispered, “Please, baby? I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Azzi peeked one eye open, giving her a tired but skeptical look. “What is it? Another ‘trust me, you’ll love it’ thing?”

Paige gave her the most exaggerated, pleading expression she could muster—her big, sad blue puppy-dog eyes. She knew Azzi could never resist those eyes.

Azzi blinked, clearly fighting the urge to give in. “You’re killing me,” she said, but the smile tugging at her lips was already softening her resistance. “I just want to sleep.”

Paige leaned in closer, placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s cheek. “Please, I’ll make it up to you later,” she promised, her voice playful yet sincere. “I need you to trust me.”

Azzi let out a long, exaggerated sigh, but Paige could see her resolve crumbling. She rubbed her eyes and groggily sat up. “Fine. But you owe me big time.”

Paige’s grin spread wider as she slid off the bed. “Deal.”

As Azzi sluggishly got out of bed, Paige couldn’t hide her excitement anymore. She pulled on her jacket and grabbed her keys, offering a final, teasing glance at Azzi, who was now fumbling with her clothes.

“You’ll see why soon enough,” Paige said with a grin, her heart racing with anticipation.

Azzi shot her a curious look but didn’t ask any more questions. “I’m trusting you,” she muttered under her breath as she started getting dressed.

Paige waited, trying to contain the excitement bubbling inside of her. After a few more moments, Azzi finished getting dressed in a cozy hoodie and sweatpants, and they were ready to leave. Paige took Azzi’s hand, leading her toward the door, unable to stop herself from feeling giddy about the surprise she had in store.

…

After stopping to grab some food at Azzi’s request—Paige giving in after a little bit of playful whining from Azzi about how starving she was—they drove towards the athletic department. The ride was quiet, with Azzi occasionally sneaking glances at Paige, still trying to figure out what was going on. Paige could sense the confusion, but she kept her grin tucked away, excited for the reveal.

As they approached the familiar building, Azzi let out an exasperated groan. "I really can't stand the sight of a basketball right now," she muttered, half-joking, as she stared out the window.

Paige chuckled, glancing over at her with a teasing smile. "Trust me, I promise it’s not what you think." She reached across the console, giving Azzi’s hand a quick squeeze. "Just follow me, okay?"

Azzi gave a halfhearted sigh but didn’t protest further, which Paige took as a win. She pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the entrance. Paige was already unbuckling her seatbelt, grinning ear to ear.

“I’ll open the door,” Paige said, pushing her door open before Azzi could even react.

Azzi eyed her, clearly puzzled. “You’re really dragging me into the lion’s den for something,” she remarked with a smirk but unbuckled her seatbelt anyway, getting out of the car with a reluctant sigh.

They walked towards the building, and Azzi’s confusion only deepened when Paige steered them away from the locker room and toward the elevator. "What’s going on?" Azzi asked, now seriously curious. "Where are we going?"

Paige didn’t answer, only flashed a playful grin as she pressed the button for the roof. The elevator doors closed, and Azzi's brow furrowed as she saw Paige press the “R” button. "The Roof?" Azzi asked, eyeing Paige.

"Just trust me," Paige said with a wink, leaning back against the elevator wall.

Azzi crossed her arms, clearly still unsure but unwilling to ask any more questions. When the elevator doors opened, she was met with a cool breeze and the soft light of the late afternoon sky as the sun was setting.

Azzi stepped out, her gaze sweeping the area. At first, she didn’t understand what she was seeing, but as her eyes locked onto the rose petal carpet that stretched across the roof, her breath caught in her throat. Candles flickered softly along the edges, and delicate lights hung from the railing, casting a warm glow over everything. In the center, there was a cozy-looking insulated pod, filled with plush pillows and blankets—an oasis in the middle of the chaotic campus.

Azzi's jaw dropped as she took in the scene. Her eyes welled up with tears as she slowly turned to look at Paige, a mixture of disbelief and happiness in her expression. "Paige... this is..." she trailed off, unable to find the words.

Paige stood there, watching Azzi, her heart swelling as she took in the sight of her girlfriend’s joy. Azzi’s teary eyes met hers, and Paige could see the overwhelming emotion in them. She had done it—created this perfect, peaceful moment for the two of them, just as Azzi deserved.

Azzi took a step closer to Paige, her voice barely above a whisper. “You did this for me?”

Paige smiled warmly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Azzi’s ear. “I wanted to do something special for you. I know things have been crazy, and I just wanted to give us a moment to breathe.”

Azzi shook her head slightly, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. “I feel so... loved. This is... beyond anything I could have imagined.”

Paige reached out and gently cupped Azzi’s face, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her thumb. “You deserve this, and so much more,” she said softly, her voice full of affection.

Azzi nodded, trying to steady her breath as the tears continued to fall, though they were happy ones. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s lips. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This... means everything.”

Paige smiled, her heart full as she pulled Azzi into a warm hug. “Anything for you.”

Azzi, still holding the take-out bag in her hand, finally glanced down at the food. “I’m not sure I can eat anything right now,” she said, holding it out. “But we can take this with us. I think this moment deserves to be savored a little longer.” She gave a soft laugh, though the tears hadn’t quite stopped.

“I’m all for that,” Paige agreed, grinning. “We have all the time in the world.”

They made their way to the pod, settling in with blankets and pillows surrounding them. It was their perfect little world, quiet and intimate. With the flickering candles casting soft shadows and the stars just beginning to appear above, they knew that, for tonight, nothing else mattered.

…

The soft glow of the lights around the roof and the comfort of the insulated pod had them nestled in a peaceful quiet, the world beyond feeling distant and unimportant. Paige and Azzi lay there together, tangled in blankets and pillows, lazily sharing their food as they continued to relax, their conversations light and comfortable.

Azzi finally finished her meal, letting out a satisfied sigh. "I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” she laughed, settling back into Paige’s embrace.

Paige smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Azzi’s face. “Well, I’m glad you’re not too full to talk,” she teased, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Azzi’s arm. “I wasn’t sure how long I could just stare at the sky without saying something.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “What, you don’t like quiet moments?” she asked playfully.

Paige shrugged. “I mean, I do. But it’s more fun when I’m with you. You make everything feel... better.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her gaze drifting to the sky before returning to Paige’s eyes. “Well, lucky for you, I’m here. Though, it’s hard to compete with the stars when you’re just so...”

“...irresistible?” Paige finished for her, raising an eyebrow and grinning mischievously.

Azzi chuckled. “Exactly.” Her fingers lightly brushed along Paige’s arm. “Though, I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect the view up here to be this good.”

Paige looked around at the setting she had set up, the flowers and lights reflecting off the gentle glow of the candles. "Yeah, well, the view’s way better when I’m with you,” Paige said softly, gazing at Azzi.

Azzi's heart skipped a beat, her eyes softening. “You’re good at this. Really good at making me feel special.”

Paige smiled warmly, her hand resting on Azzi's. "You deserve it. I feel like we haven’t had enough time like this, just... together. No distractions."

Azzi let out a content sigh, her head resting on Paige’s shoulder as they both relaxed into the moment, the world outside their little bubble of calm fading into nothing. The night stretched out in silence for a while, and it was peaceful. But soon, Azzi broke it, her voice quiet and thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, you know?” she started, her tone serious. “About this season, about what comes after it.”

Paige glanced at her, feeling a shift in the air. “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

Azzi took a deep breath, then turned her head to meet Paige’s eyes. “I’ve been talking to some people... the GM of the Golden State Valkyries, actually. With Geno’s help.”

Paige blinked, a little confused. “I thought you were staying here for another year because of your injuries? We talked about it earlier in the season.”

Azzi nodded, but her expression was more resolute now. “Yeah, I know we talked about it. But... I’ve been having a much better season than I expected. I don’t want to risk an injury again. I want to leave UConn on a high note and I think we can win it all this year.”

Paige stayed silent for a moment, trying to process the change. She hadn’t seen this coming. “So... you’re leaving…with me?” she asked softly, her voice quieter now, unsure how to feel about it.

Azzi smiled gently, her gaze unwavering. “Yes…It’s time for me. But there’s more. The GM told me that Golden State has been in talks with Dallas about getting the #1 pick in the draft. If they pull it off... they might take you at #1, and me at #5.”

Paige blinked, unable to fully grasp what she was hearing. "Wait... you think you’re going to go 5?" she asked skeptically, trying to keep her composure, though the excitement bubbling up inside her was hard to hide. “I don’t know, Azzi. I mean, I don’t think you’ll drop that far.”

Azzi nodded, her gaze unwavering. “None of the teams with picks 2, 3, or 4 need a shooting guard. They’d be crazy to draft me. Plus Golden State is really interested in you. They’re doing everything they can to get the #1 pick and you’re clearly their top choice.”

Paige sat up slightly, her heart pounding as the news sank in. “And you? You’d go #5 to Golden State?”

Azzi smiled, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yeah that’s the plan. The way they’ve been talking it feels... like it could actually happen. They mentioned something about giving Dallas their picks for the next two years.”

For a moment, Paige just stared at Azzi, her mind racing. Then, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She leaned forward, kissing Azzi’s cheek, then her nose, then her forehead, her lips scattering over her face with pure excitement. “Oh my God, this is huge!” she said breathlessly. “Baby we could be playing together again! On the same team!”

Azzi laughed softly, her heart racing as Paige continued to shower her with kisses. “I know! It’s crazy to think about.”

Paige pulled back, grinning widely. “This could actually happen. We could be teammates again. I can’t even—this is everything. I can’t even imagine playing with anyone else.”

Azzi laughed again, pulling Paige closer, her voice low and full of promise. “Well, you might not have to imagine it for long.”

After the whirlwind of excitement, Paige and Azzi were both still processing the incredible news of the draft. The moment between them felt like time had slowed, their hearts in sync as they basked in the idea of playing together again. But before they could fully settle back into the peace of the rooftop, a sudden sound caught their attention.

From below, they heard raised voices and a bit of commotion filtering through the surroundings of the building. Paige furrowed her brow, sitting up and leaning toward the edge of the pod. Azzi, noticing the same thing, followed her gaze and squinted at the scene unfolding below.

Some of their teammates, dressed in all black, were standing at the entrance of the athletic department. They looked like they were ready for action—arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and clearly blocking someone from entering. The whole scene seemed like something out of a spy movie.

Paige snickered and leaned back, trying to stifle her laughter. "Are we sure we’re not watching a secret agent movie right now?" she whispered to Azzi, who was equally amused.

Azzi shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. "No kidding. Looks like top-flight security on a mission. Who the heck are they keeping out?"

They both watched as their teammates, clearly in full force, kept their position and made sure whoever it was didn’t cross the threshold. The scene was absurd in the best possible way, with the team going all in on their antics.

Then, they heard KK’s voice ring out clearly from below. “This is private property, sir!” she announced with authority, causing the rest of their teammates, who were playing along with the act, to burst into laughter.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, nudging Azzi playfully. "I swear, that’s KK being all serious, trying to put on a show like she’s a real security guard."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “That was definitely too dramatic. I can’t believe she’s pulling the ‘private property’ line.”

The sound of the team’s laughter echoed up to them, and even the mysterious person who’d apparently been trying to enter couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

Paige rolled her eyes, still grinning. “Only here could something this ridiculous happen. I think we’re safe in our little pod for now.” She pulled the blankets around her tighter as she settled back down next to Azzi.

Azzi grinned, looking back at Paige. “Yeah, it’s nice to escape the chaos. But I have a feeling ‘security’ is still out there, keeping watch.”

With the laughter from downstairs still drifting up toward them, they both leaned back into the warmth of the pod. Their teammates might be handling their own version of "security," but for now, Paige and Azzi were perfectly content, tucked away in their private oasis, away from the madness.

[mysteria157]

Moment One: An Old Flame

Rating: Explicit 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content (whole lotta smut, I’m talking: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie…lol you get it).

Word Count: ~6k

Summary: When Nanami has no choice but to work overtime, you bring him dinner as a surprise. But you unexpectedly find his ex-girlfriend already keeping him company. 

Takes place a few weeks after Chapter 15 of It Had To Be You!

Notes: I had this idea way back when I wrote chapter 15 weeks ago and I finally made it a reality last night LOL. I don’t have a beta reader, so sometimes there may be a mistake or two. I have a habit of being way too detailed when I write, and that includes smut. So hopefully you enjoy it! 

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

Those Moments In Between Masterlist | Moment Two

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

Nanami knows better.

He knows that his ex-girlfriend, Pia, is just as devious as she was when they were in undergrad. 

When they were younger and together, she gave sweetness and tender love that made Nanami stick around a bit longer than he should have. Though they had nothing in common and she was far too outgoing, she helped him embrace many different things that were normally out of his comfort zone.

She taught him how to express public displays of affection in his own way. She taught him how to express what he felt when it came to romantic love. 

He was grateful for it. Truly.

Indirectly, her personality only made him realize just how ill-suited they were for one another despite her good intentions.

Pia was spiteful to those who disagreed with her, disrespectful to those who did not have the same values as her, and outlandishly rude to those who came on to Nanami. She covered it all up with smiles, jokes as a means of apology, and an innocent glint in her eyes that Nanami at the time, didn't have the experience to see through.

Gojo had tried to warn him, year after year.

But he was young--his disdain for Gojo was five thousand times more intense than it is now--so Nanami treated everything that fell from Gojo's lips as a ploy to annoy anyway. 

Nanami remained oblivious to her behavior, caught in the haze of young love, until their final year of college.

That haze had gradually become easier to sift through. The complaints from his friends finally began to register in his mind. Then, one day between classes, a significant moment allowed him to finally blink away the fog.

Every action that he had once dismissed, enticed by the flutter of her lashes and the touch of her lips, rose to the surface from an ocean of naivety--loud and unfiltered.

He despised himself for having to come to the painful realization that Gojo had been right all along. 

Nanami allowed Gojo to mock him for a week before reverting to his habit of telling him to shut up unless he had something meaningful to contribute to their conversations. 

Despite feeling embarrassed and heartbroken, he cut ties--clean and simple--moved on with his life, and never heard from her again.

Until now, that is, as she is currently in Nakameguro for a project to market her wine enterprise. She specifically chose his company to assist in expanding her business in the Japanese market, and he despises every minute of it. 

Pia clearly wants to make up for lost time because she goes to great lengths to be close to him. 

She has a habit of discreetly slipping into the elevator just before it closes, coincidentally finding herself alone with Nanami every time. With a simple smile and a polite greeting, she faces the front and they ride in silence, but with every encounter, she subtly edges closer and closer to him. 

Like clockwork, without fail, she makes a point to peek into his office every morning, disregarding his attempt to keep the door closed. She greets him, extends an invitation to lunch—an invitation he consistently declines—and continues with her day. 

Being a recluse by nature, he rarely leaves his office except for coffee runs to the breakroom or when Yuji relentlessly calls for his presence. But with Pia’s presence, he can hardly focus when she’s around. He refuses to engage in conversation or give her an opening to pursue him romantically. Because he knows she will. So now he makes Yuji come to him and will bring his own coffee from home. 

He chooses not to confide in you about his struggles.

You had only met her once, but it was more than enough. Because to you, Pia is overwhelmingly beautiful, with a well-traveled life and wealth. You are an amateur ceramic artist with modest savings, a mother that you can’t stand, and a body that had recently been stretched and marked by childbirth.

You thought Kento deserved better—deserved someone like Pia. 

You were grappling with the overwhelming responsibilities of taking care of Ulani, trying your best to navigate through postpartum depression in a healthy way, and coming to terms with a body that seemed alien to you.

So the sight of Pia for the first time, radiant and flaunting a badge of honor for dating Nanami, did nothing but throw you into a deep pit of insecurity.

Kento lifted you out of that dark place, demonstrated to you again—without fail—how devoted he was to you then and always.

He made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

He’s determined to never make you feel unsure of yourself again. 

So it's not a big deal. She’s just a nuisance that he has to dodge for the next week. 

Just another week until she goes back to Italy where she—hopefully—will never return.

What’s the worst that can happen?

It turns out, a lot.

He tries to stay one step ahead, deliberately exchanging a brief greeting with her in the lobby to prevent her from slithering into his office. He even waits until the office is deserted, and the day is nearly over before stepping into the elevator. 

He doesn’t know how he got out scot-free, but Friday rolls around and he thinks that he just might pull this off.

But Yaga chooses today of all days to ask Nanami to stay behind to consolidate a few contracts that only Nanami—unfortunately—has access to. In normal circumstances, Nanami would decline and suggest pushing it off until Monday.

It’s even more unfortunate because he has plans tonight. He wants to help you make dinner and spend time with his daughter and he shouldn’t even have to think about excuses because he hates overtime. But, the consolidation is due Monday, and he wants to get it done now so that he can avoid the hassle later on.

You don’t sound upset when he calls you to break the news. Your usually calm voice is slightly downcast with a gentle sigh that you think he can’t hear.

“I guess it’s rare so I shouldn’t be mad but,” you complain weakly, your words tinged with a slight whine that makes Nanami smirk to himself. “I made Katsudon.” 

He groans, mouth instantly watering at the mere thought. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, my love. I promise.” 

You grumble a reply that makes him chuckle, a tender sound resonating deep in his chest as he listens to you tell him that you love him before hanging up the phone.

***

It’s seven o’clock and he’s fighting a migraine. But he’s almost done, and he’s determined to finish the last stack of contracts that require organizing before he can make his way home to you and Ulani.

As he pens his signature on the bottom of one contract, there’s a knock on his office door, prompting him to invite them in—assuming it’s merely the janitor since everyone else on the floor left hours ago. 

That’s all he thinks to himself; he focuses his attention on yet another clause, preparing to initial his name on the side when everything comes to a screeching halt. 

Because standing before him isn’t the janitor—it’s Pia.

Pia, clad in a tight black dress that not only defies workplace etiquette but also starkly contrasts the one she wore earlier in the day.  

Earlier that day, he followed her every movement as she got into her car and drove away, silently relieved that he could finally relax. Yet, here she is; her dark brown wavy hair hanging over her shoulder in a manner far too seductive for his comfort, and black heels clutched in her hands instead of adorning her feet.

It takes him only a second to assess how quickly he can maneuver past her without a word. He will take the steps if he has to, or maybe he can grab the remaining contracts and finish the rest at home and—

“Gojo always mentions how you never stay late anymore, so I’m surprised to see you here,” she purrs, her Italian accent grating against his ears, exacerbating his throbbing migraine behind his eyes. Her lust-filled, indecent intentions taint her dark brown eyes, reinforcing the strong urge within him to leave, quickly. 

He’s not the type of man to belittle a woman’s appearance because they all possess their own beauty. His mother hammered that among other things about the respect of women deep into his skull before he hit puberty. But he’s well-mannered enough to acknowledge beauty and let the line be drawn there—because other women aren’t you, and he doesn’t have a wandering eye. 

He never has and he never will.

“Is there a reason why you are here, Pia?” he questions, discreetly binding the stack of contracts together so he can swiftly grab them along with his blazer and push her out of the way if he has to. “Your project finished at the end of the business day, so I assumed you would be on your way back to Italy.”

She scoffs a deep and guttural noise that makes Nanami’s stomach twirl in distaste and intensifies the pounding behind his eyes. “You know exactly why I’m here, Kento. Don’t be dull. You never were back then, and you aren’t now.”

His stomach churns, the knots tightening with each passing moment between them. The tension becomes unbearable, culminating in a swift rise from his seat as he retrieves his blazer behind his large, deep red chair.

“You need to leave,” he demands, his voice devoid of the polite courtesy he had extended to her during her visit. He tucks the contracts beneath an arm, grabs his car keys, and makes for the door—but she’s quick to sidestep so her frame blocks his path. 

Irritation surges within him, an emotion that others—excluding you—are keen to elicit when they begin to waste his time. 

“Pia, please move out of the way so that I can go home.”

She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow, adding to the torment coursing through his stomach. “So you’re saying you don’t even want to talk? It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and you’ve done nothing but avoid me during my entire stay.” Her whiny, petulant tone and childlike frown only serve to trigger flashbacks to times when she didn’t get her way, intensifying the deep divide that caused their separation.

“And you don’t understand the reason why?” he retorts, irritation heavier and thick in his mouth. A frown etches itself onto his lips, and his patience dissipates in the tense air encircling them. 

A noise in the lobby—a noise that implies someone can be listening—makes his heart stammer in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

While she has an agenda, he does not. He refuses to allow others to lose respect for him in this office, thinking he indulges in infidelity during his free time when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions, except when it involves you and your relationship—that’s where he draws the line. 

Unaffected by his sarcastic remark, she delicately places a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. He’s quick to react, catching her wrist in a way that makes his blazer fall to the floor, pulling her hand away from him as his body begins to shake in frustration.

 “I don’t know where you’ve gotten the impression that I want anything with you, but I won’t be entertaining it. What we had was a long time ago and it won’t ever be reignited again. Try your best to understand that,” he states firmly.

“But—” she begins to protest.

“Enough, Pia. Leave. Now.” 

He isn’t asking nicely anymore, his head pounding, and the decision to simply push her out of the way is made. Just as he prepares to do so, the door swings open, and the person he longs to see the most but also wishes wasn’t here right now, rushes in.

“Ken, I thought I could bring you dinner and—” you stop mid-sentence, words wedged in your throat as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re holding a Tupperware container, the steam inside condensing along the edges.

Nanami with papers under one arm and the other dropping from a delicate wrist to flop down at his side, his hair disheveled from hours of musing, his face clearly disturbed. And Pia, beautiful and ethereal as usual as she whips around to look at you. 

Since that first day you met her, you haven’t encountered Pia again. And Kento’s unwavering loyalty and trust have provided no reason to entertain the thought of her. 

However, Nanami’s stiff stature, Pia’s tight dress that reveals a bit too much in the front, and the stiletto heels swinging from her finger in one hand make it abundantly clear to you why she is here. 

At seven o’clock at night.

With no one else around.

You want to shy away from the implication, to fend off your surprise with a shy chuckle, and let the poisonous current of insecurity draw you away like that time before. But Nanami had skillfully put those doubts to rest weeks ago. 

Now you’re just irritated.

“Pia? What are you doing here?” You keep your tone light, masking the annoyance bubbling inside you. Pia’s earlier sultry gaze has vanished, replaced by widened eyes and hands smoothing her already unwrinkled dress, anxiously. “Kento told me the project ended a few hours ago. Aren’t you flying back to Italy soon?”

She fumbles, her rose-tinted lips curling as she searches for something to say, gripping her heels tighter in her hand. It’s reminiscent of watching a child scrambling for an excuse after being caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

Nanami remains silent, astonished. In the past, any other woman daring to breathe his air while Pia was present would have been met with scathing words and threats. But now, that Pia is desperately trying to produce an excuse for her late presence within a workplace when she she should be on a flight home.

“She was just leaving, love,” Nanami interjects, trying his best to make the situation as simple as it can be. Pia agrees, blushing and nodding, hastily slipping her heels back on with hands seemingly covered in sweat.

Watching her struggle to secure her heels, her fingers slipping on the buckle, reignites a surge of confidence deep within you. The once persistent insecurity in her presence now feels like a mere joke. In this moment, she becomes the joke. 

And you want to savor every minute of it.

The next words spill from your mouth, impossible to contain. You wiggle the small Tupperware container in your hands, gesturing towards her and offering a shy but satisfied smile.

“I was just bringing my husband dinner,” you chuckle airily, the lie slipping from your lips with ease. You relish the reaction from them both. Pia’s hands slip on her heel strap, causing her to stumble. Nanami struggles to contain his composure, eyes wide as saucers, his breath caught in his throat as your words ring in his ears like a piercing siren.

“Kento is the only one on this floor, it’s awfully late and I doubt you would have left earlier without saying goodbye. Surely you—” you pause, pretending to be taken aback before leveling an accusatory gaze at her. She looks up from her hunched position, hands still fumbling with the straps of her heels, her eyes wide and beautifully tan skin appearing pale. You’re not one for pettiness, but the delight from the sight of her struggling courses through your veins. “Surely you’re not here with the intention to do something else, are you?” 

“No!” she quickly retorts, her voice both loud and tinged with a hint of nervousness that makes the corner of your lip twitch. “No of course not—”

“So what are you doing here?” you cut her off with a narrowing of your eyes, repeating your question from earlier with a touch less feigned innocence, your tone slightly more serious and impatient. 

“L-leaving actually! Just wanted to say goodbye to Kento before my flight in the morning,” she stammers, now standing three inches taller, maintaining an air of elegance and grace even as her embarrassment paints her cheeks red.

She hastily bids Nanami farewell—a choked and tight goodbye—, a lopsided and anxious smile directed at you, and stumbles once more as she hurriedly exits the room, a snort of amusement escaping your lips as she trips before disappearing from your sight.

You close the door behind her, shutting away her presence for good.

The room falls into silence, Nanami’s face turning a vibrant shade of red that forces you to suppress your laughter with every ounce of effort you can muster.

“Love, I can explain—,” he begins, but you promptly cut him off, a giggle escaping despite your best attempts to hold it back. 

You know he would never do anything. Nanami would probably take infinite shifts of overtime instead of letting a woman who was not you touch him. In fact, you heard the entire conversation before you rushed in, and it makes your heart flutter with love that is already overflowing for him. 

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles.

But it’s so funny to watch him squirm, his face burning even more and his movements awkward as he clutches the bundle of disheveled contracts in his hand. His expressions of frustration and his furrowed brow only serve to ignite a warmth in your stomach. 

You love to tease him. And now you’ve been given the perfect opportunity to make him sweat.

“There’s no need to explain, Ken. I’m just messing with you,” you reassure him, taking his free hand and gently pulling him back to his desk. Turning to face his still-nervous figure, you retrieve the papers from his grasp and place them neatly on his large mahogany desk. 

“I heard the entire conversation. I am curious though,” you begin, pressing him down into his chair. He’s silent as he watches you push the chair back a little, so you have room to stand between him and his desk. “What do you think she would have done if I hadn’t come in time?”

“Absolutely nothing because I don’t—” he starts, but his words are abruptly cut off by the touch of your hand gliding against the fabric of his chest. Unlike Pia’s touch, your fingertips radiate heat and beckon him in a way that has his cock twitching in his slacks. His heart skips a beat as he watches your own manicured nails circle the buttons of his dress shirt before undoing them quickly. “We can’t—”

“Why?” you interrupt, your voice low and hot, instantly drying up his throat. Your fingertips dance along the exposed skin of his chest, gently teasing him as your nail flicks against a pink nipple before trailing down between the contours of his abs. You tap your fingers along the downy hair that trails under his slack and his stomach bunches in response, twitching from the stimulation, his heart skipping and his throat tightening slowly. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t. God, he doesn’t, and the words ‘no’ are out of his mouth before he can stop them, giving you his consent even though he’s embarrassed out of his mind. His migraine becomes an insignificant thought, the pulsing from earlier falling into a slow ebb, eclipsed by the escalating desire coursing through his veins. 

Nanami has never been the type of man to do this sort of thing. While he likes to be inside you anytime he can, he cherishes the privacy that safeguards both himself and you, more. 

But he can’t lie to himself that the thought of something happening in this office with you hasn’t crossed his mind multiple times—especially when you used to work together.

The sound of you undoing his belt buckle has his heart racing, thumping loud and heavy in his chest and his face is on fire as he watches you release him from the confines of his pants, his cock already hard and leaking. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and finding it difficult to contain your own desire from the sight of him. The area between your legs throbs as you trace your eyes down a cock that you’re intimately familiar with. Warm and achingly heavy, leaking with anticipation and pleading for your touch. His abs tense with a sharp intake of breath as you wrap your hand around him, a pleasurable hiss escaping his throat as he watches you stroke him languidly. 

You press your free hand into the arm of his chair, leaning in until your lips are mere inches apart. Inhaling his ragged breaths, you admire the way his deep brown eyes blow out, leaving only a ring of burnt umber for you to gaze into. 

Your grip on him has his mind foggy, desire overtaking any rational thoughts that he would normally use right about now. 

But you’re so good. 

You’re curling your wrist with every upward stroke just the way he loves and his abs bunch with every jolt of pleasure that zips inside of him.

He has to touch you, has to get his hands on you in some way to ground himself, and he instinctively reaches out for you when suddenly you tsk, pulling back slightly to create more distance between your lips.

“No touching.”

Oh.

You never deny him when you’re both like this. You always want his hands on you. The fact that you’re now denying him, gazing at him with a dangerous look in your eyes, shocks him. And it arouses him to a degree that makes him choke on a breath. 

He sags back into his chair, gasping for breath when your hands trail down to cup his balls. He digs his fingers into the chair’s armrests, scratching red leather, and he’s desperate to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Did you—did you lock the door?” he manages to gasp, grasping onto any shred of coherent thought he has left.

You tilt your head in confusion, gaze at him with an indifferent stare, and then shrug nonchalantly before sagging down to your knees in front of him. The sight makes his toes curl in his expensive Chukka boots.

The rational part of his mind urges him to get up and check the door. Just get up and make sure the door is at least locked before anything else—but then his thoughts are short-circuiting and stuttering as your tongue slides wet up his shaft and you swallow him down to the base without a care in the world.

The back of his head slams against the cushioned chair as a surge of pleasure courses through his veins. You’re wet and sloppy, teasing him with your gaze as your mouth stretches from the thickness of him—and he’s struggling to hold on, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay even though it’s right there.

He tries to reach for you—tries to card his hands through your hair but you smack it away and glare at him with such a ferocity that he’s embarrassed for even attempting. 

Marketing templates. Morning traffic. A cold cup of coffee. 

He thinks of everything he can to resist the warmth in his stomach and the coil tightening along his spine; because you suck his cock in a way that makes him fidget in his chair, humming and gurgling into his ears in a wicked melody that’s making him go insane.

You’re enjoying every second of this and it only makes him blush harder with just how exposed he is to you right now. The mere weight of his cock in your mouth and the slightly salty taste of him makes your panties damp, your cunt pulsating and aching to be filled. 

And you’ll make sure it happens.

So you patiently wait until he’s panting harshly, his grip on the arm of his chair growing tighter and tighter. You wait until that crazed look dances in his eyes—the one you’re so familiar with right before he cums. And right when he’s on the cusp, you pull away. 

He exhales hard and sinks into his chair almost in relief as the band inside of him relaxes slightly, desperately trying to catch his breath and hissing as the cold air of his office wraps around his wet cock.

“Pia really did have a plan, didn’t she?” you playfully tease, standing to card your fingers through his blonde locks. Your fingertips glide across the faint traces of sweat, your hand moving along with the shake of his head in response to you, his gaze unfocused.

You kick off your shoes, hook your thumbs into the corner of your leggings, and slide them down and off your legs—his eyes following every inch of creamy brown skin that is revealed to him. 

You’re wearing an oversized sweater, a soft cashmere that he got you simply because he wanted, and it now covers your faint stretch-marked thighs. They are your battle scars, your own reminders of the journey your body underwent to grow and birthed the beautiful daughter you both have now.

His breath falters as he watches you gracefully perch on his large desk, placing your legs on top and bending your knees so your fuzzy sock-covered feet press against the rich mahogany. Leaning back on one arm, you effortlessly open your legs for him. His naturally narrow eyes widen at the sight of your white damp panties, and he longs to lick, suck, and slide his cock inside the very place they conceal.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous and taunting, delighting in the way he struggles to stay seated even as you slide one of your hands down into your panties.

“Can I—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“No.” 

You leave no room for argument and don’t offer anything else as you begin to circle your clit leisurely, arching into the touch as echoes of pleasure hum to life. It’s not long before you’re pushing your panties to the side to expose yourself to the open air. Your cunt throbs with desire when you hear Nanami groan softly under his breath. 

You’ve never been this bold, never entertained the thought of anything voyeuristic. But Nanami seems to awaken something within you, something you’re slowly embracing. He’s so shy about sex outside of the privacy of your home, and it only makes this more exciting that he’s even entertaining it now.

“Did she do this with you?” you ask him, your voice breathless as you sink two fingers into your wet cunt. The corner of Nanami’s eye twitches from the sight and you swallow down a giggle that threatens to escape. “Did she ever make you watch her while she touched herself?” 

You moan softly as you curl your fingers up as best as you can from your angle. Nanami’s fingers dig into the leather of his chair with barely contained restraint. 

“Answer me, Kento.”

“No. She didn’t.”

Satisfied with his answer, a sense of pride flaps in your chest, and you gleefully continue fingering yourself in front of him. It always takes you a while to get off with your fingers, so you use that as ammunition to watch Nanami squirm. 

You watch the way his exposed muscular pectorals move with his increasing breaths. You watch the way his cock twitches, hot and heavy against his stomach, leaking precum onto his abs. And you soak up the way he traces his eyes along every inch of you, leaving nothing without his attention.

When you finally cum, sharp and abrupt, he’s hanging on by a thread—ready to abandon your command to be still, yank you to him, and sink inside. 

He watches your cunt flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high, gasping like an angel into the office air. Breathless, you stand on shaky legs and move to stand before him, lifting slick-covered fingers to his mouth which he readily opens without command, desperate to taste you any time he can. He groans softly against your fingers, eyes drooping, tongue sliding wet between your digits. The sight makes your cunt throb weakly, faint embers that had just died down, licking to life again.

You taste like everything to him, everything he wants and everything he needs.

But it’s not on the menu tonight.

You straddle his lap wordlessly and smack his hands away when he tries to wrap large hands around your waist. He swallows his frustration, yearning to touch you, yet willing to comply for the promise of more.

Using the remnants of your arousal between your legs, you coat him, stroking him enough to make sure you take him effortlessly, and then you guide him to your entrance and sink down to the hilt. The feel of him inside you is glorious, stretching you in the way you like that makes your cunt tremble to life around him, grateful for his presence once again. 

“Fuck,” he hisses—chokes with eyes squeezed shut, hand gripping the chair until it groans. You’re so wet, so fucking warm and tight that he’s shaking--practically trembling and swallowing a whimper as he fights the urge to grab your hips.

You didn’t need much to get used to him. You’re a masochist when he stretches you—you crave the way your cunt tenses from the intrusion, gripping him like a vice.

You’re a champ, enveloping him and giving him little time to acclimate before you’re bouncing on his cock with a finesse that would make any woman jealous.

You slide both hands into the hair at his nape and pull so that he cranes his neck back to gaze up at you. He’s slack-jawed, panting with breaths that tickle your lips, his eyes heavy with desire. 

“Did she ever fuck you like this, hmm? Come into your office when you would work long hours and ride you until you couldn’t see straight?” 

He can only shake his head ‘no’ in response, his throat too dry to speak, his lungs burning. He craves your touch, your lips on him, something to anchor him as he struggles to keep up. It’s the only way he can stay sane when the neurons in his brain are frying by the second. He begs wordlessly, groans deeply up into your mouth, pleading for anything.

And thankfully, you grant him a searing kiss. Your lips mold against his, tongues battling for dominance that he willingly surrenders to. His every thrust hits that perfect spot within you, brushing away hints of oversensitivity and bringing forth faint pleasure that makes you dig your hands into blond tresses and pull tight.

The pleasure caresses the insides of your thighs and tightens the muscles of your legs. Every brush of your clit against the skin of his abs shoots electricity throughout your cunt and up to the base of your spine, igniting a simmering fire that begins to heat deep pools of lava that reside there.

You pull away from his lips with a harsh moan, gasping into the warm air of his office, riding him harder to the point that the legs of his chair begin to squeak.

He knows you well. He knows how you get demanding and delirious and incoherent when you ride him, and he loves to count the seconds until that switch in your brain goes off. And it’s not even a second later when—

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So, so good,” you moan against the skin of his lips. “Fucking me just the way I like Ken.”

He watches every move you make, tracing his eyes over the contours of your face and the way your loose curls cling to creamy brown cheeks.

His eyes roll when he picks up your whispered chants. You’re a woman possessed and you take what you want—when you want. And he gives and gives with every yes, yes, more Ken, you’re so good, please, please, please yes!

Your pupils are blown and glazed over with desire, but suddenly your brows furrow in frustration. 

“She walked in here in a tight dress and high heels looking to get you in the same position that I have you now. But at the end of the day, you’re mine.”

There’s not an ounce of coyness in your words. You’re so serious, firm, and unyielding that it makes him shudder, a groan sliding from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and—

“Look at me,” you command, voice low, panting from exertion and the feel of your body beginning to draw tight with embers of a powerful orgasm. His eyes roll back without hesitation, locking with yours. “Unless—unless some other circumstance tears us apart, you—you are mine. Pia can have all the money and fame, but she will never have you. I do.”

“Yes,” he whispers, the word tumbling from his lips without faltering. His hips struggle to keep up and his thighs begin to stiffen as pleasure begins to curl deliciously so that his hands dig into the chair. His fingers slip against the leather, sweaty and tingling.

“You’re the father of my child.”

“Yes,” he chants again, breathless and quivering as the rubber band along his spine grows taught, stretching and shaking from the tension.

“You sleep next to me. You kiss me. You fuck me.”

“Yes, only you—only you.”

You tremble from his words, satisfaction oozing like hot thick globs along your skin. “That’s right, Kento,” you purr as your hips begin to roll against him, your clit carrying currents of pleasure through your veins, that pool of lava at the base of your spine boiling and rising to the brim.

“Please,” he whispers, his plea pulling you from your desire-induced haze. You look down at him, admire the flush of his cheeks, the warmth of his breath against the collarbone of your sweater, the sweat that beads along his hairline. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tease, trying to maintain a playful demeanor even though your hips are beginning to ache from overuse. You come to a stop on top of him, your breaths mingling together.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, always gentle and caring, even when he’s bursting from the seams. You love him so fucking much.

“Will you make me cum?”

“Always,” he responds without hesitation, his words filled with conviction. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the affection he willingly gives you. When you pull away, you brush thick blonde locks from his forehead, exposing more of his sharp features that will never fail to make your heart race.

“Then touch me, Ken,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

Without wasting a moment, he swiftly lifts you in his arms, his cock still nestled inside as he carries you towards his desk.

Your breath catches as you stare up at him, the sound of papers scattering to the floor filling the air. He pulls your sweater up, revealing every inch of your faintly stretch-marked belly, before tugging down a cup of your bra, heady eyes watching as one of your breasts spills from its confines. 

He’s too fast. You fumble for words and let out a surprised yelp when he yanks your waist toward the edge of the desk. He presses your knees as close to your chest as you will allow, and then he slams into you once—and then twice before picking up a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

He devours you, tongue flicking and swirling wet and dripping around your exposed nipple as he pounds into you unabashedly, the desk squeaking and groaning from his efforts.

All bravado that you had earlier splinters away with each smack of his muscular hips against you, the skin of his abs brushing against your clit deliciously, coaxing moan after moan from your lips. His tongue flicks your nipple again before he bites the hardened bud, and your cunt flutters—clenches around him, your thighs beginning to twitch even though they’re pressed to your chest.

“I’m all yours. Always yours,” he whispers against your lips, blonde tresses gliding against your cheeks.

You hope there’s no one on this floor, or that no one has decided to come back for something because the last thing they need to hear is Nanami Kento, Director of Strategic Partnerships, railing his girlfriend on his over-priced, too-large mahogany desk.

You can barely breathe, your moans growing in pitch, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office, your hands sliding up to dig fingers into the skin of his back. You don’t even have the chance to tell him you’re close. 

The stroke of him inside you, the slap of his skin against your bundle of nerves, and the feel of his mouth trailing along the sweaty column of your neck with a deep and heavy cum for me baby breaks the seal inside of you.

The lava boils over—pools along your bones, hot and delicious and caressing every nerve ending within you, your cunt squeezing him without remorse. You can’t help the loud moan that shakes from your lips, growing in pitch when the pleasure seems to spike and overheat you in oversensitivity, your entire body tingling and shaking like an exposed nerve.

Nanami takes every ounce of pleasure you offer. Everything, every part of you is precious—treasured in a way that no one else will ever be able to comprehend. He takes every breath, every hitch in your throat, every droplet of sweat on your skin, every whimper and moan and scratch of your nails against him. He savors it all—needs it to survive, to know that you have chosen him, that you want him, that you love him.

You’re the only woman who makes Pia tremble and stumble over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that the moment you snapped at him when you first met. You’re fierce in the way you love, strong with the words you say, and so fucking beautiful that he cant help but feel proud of just how threatened Pia was by the sight of you.

Those words you spoke confidently to her have played like a record in his head since you forced him into his chair.

“I was just bringing my husband some dinner.”

My husband.

My husband.

He’s thought about it, so many fucking times. And he swears it will happen. Soon.

One day you’ll be his wife.

His wife.

His wife.

His thoughts come to a sudden halt because he’s cumming, catching him off guard, that rubber band snapping in half, pleasure yanking from the base of his spine and pulling a harsh groan from his chest as he spills inside of you.

His hands slip from behind your knees and smack onto the wood of his desk and you wrap your legs around his waist as you both regain your breath. He’s putty against you, melted and loose and molding against every crevice of you as he takes in your intoxicating scent. Lilac from your body wash, shea butter from your lotion, and a hint of cooking grease that wafted onto your skin when you made dinner.

Your fingers lovingly comb through his sweaty hair, your legs blissfully achy, your cunt satisfied and throbbing, and your heart coming to normal sinus rhythm in your chest.

“Ome is probably wondering where I am,” you finally speak, breaking the tranquil silence of his office. “She offered to watch Ulani when I left.” Nanami hums against you, a low and gravelly sound that’s typical of him when he’s ready to go to sleep. “Bring the rest of the contracts home. No more overtime.”

As if he would even entertain the thought of being in this office a moment longer. “Okay,” he agrees, pressing his lips to your neck. He still has his arms around you, still connected to you despite having softened inside you minutes ago. 

But you don’t mind. You cherish these moments with him, holding them dear in your heart, knowing that each one is a gift.

Because you’re the only one who can revel in the way he needs you, the way he craves having his hands on you, the way he murmurs his adoration into your skin. And you love every bit of it. You love him.

“Will she be back?” you ask, a hint of hesitance in your tone.

He shakes his head, groaning softly as you scratch that spot behind his ear. “No. Never.”

“She better not,” you jest, an eyebrow lifting to the ceiling, gazing at no one. “If she pulls shit like that again, there won’t be a happy ending for you.”

He barks out a laugh against your neck, lifting his head to take in your blissed-out form. Fatigue weighs heavy on your eyes, your lashes delicately curled, your hair spread out on his desk to make you look like the most otherworldly thing he has—will ever see. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

He kisses you tenderly once and then twice, before resting his head against your chest, the soft cashmere of your sweater caressing his cheek. His eyes catch something on the corner of his desk.

The Tupperware of food that you brought still emits steam, a homemade Katsudon by your hands, just for him.

His heart thrums in his chest, full and filled with warmth.

His wife.

Soon.

Thanks for reading!

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

[harrywavycurly]

Im obsessed with Lonely because it gives me how an actual marriage promise with your bestfriend would go. They just propose to you randomly because of a promise made in like the first grade😂 but I’m here to see if we could get how it went when Harry asked Gemma for the ring??🥹❤️

Hiii babes!! Ohhh yes I agree it does give what it would actually be like if you and Harry made a marriage pact for when you’re 30 and single you just marry each other but fun fact, you forgot about it but Harry didn’t😂😂 I will happily give you the conversation Harry had with Gemma to get the ring! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

*this is dialogue style because it just ran smoother in my brain this way*

A/N: Harry needs his older sister to give him a small piece of jewelry but Gemma isn’t giving it up without some conditions✨

“I’m sorry…Harry you’re doing what?” “You having trouble hearing already? Is that something I have to look forward to down the-” “Really? This is how you want to go about asking me for Nan’s ring? Insulting my hearing and I’m assuming you were also about to call me old?” “I mean…it’s rude to assume things Gem..now did you really need me to repeat myself or-” “I just need to know I heard you correctly that’s all…you’re asking your bestfriend…whom I adore by the way…and love probably more than I love you if I’m being honest…you’re asking her to marry you and you want to do it with Nan’s ring that I currently have possession of and…you’re doing all this because…you’re lonely?” “Yes that’s all correct…but also it’s because I just..I think she’s always been it and I do…love her ya know? I’ve always loved her and…I want to be married and maybe have kids and I just don’t know why I can’t…see that happening with anyone…but her?” “But do you really love her Harry? Asking someone to marry you isn’t something you just do on a random Tuesday because you want to be married because you’re a bit lonely.” “Yes of course I really love her…I don’t…I don’t know if I’m in love with her but I just can’t see a life without her in it and I know she’s lonely too…so why shouldn’t we just…end each others suffering and be together?” “End each other’s suffering? Jesus….Harry you’re making this sound like a business deal than an engagement…do you realize how much this will change things for the two of you? No matter what her answer is?” “It’s not a business deal…she’s my bestfriend and she knows me better than anyone and I know her like the back of my hand so I know she’ll say yes…I…I know she will because she…she just will.” “And if she doesn’t?…are you prepared to not have her anymore because once you get down on one knee Harry you can’t undo it and go back to being friends.” “I think…yeah I think I’m willing to risk it because…she’s my person and I’m ready to just get on with it and be with her.” “Romantically? Or would this be a marriage of friends?” “What? Of course it would be…romantically…I love her…we’ve…like…done things so it wouldn’t be weird-” “I don’t need the details thanks…but you said so yourself you’re not in love with her?” “Well yeah not…yet but if she says yes then I’m sure it’ll happen…but look…I just need the ring Gem..that’s all I’m here for really…I appreciate the advice and all but I’m doing it…with or without the ring but I’d much rather give her something meaningful than something she’ll think I spent too much money on.” “I just don’t want you getting hurt…or hurting her.” “I’ll do my best to make sure no one gets hurt.” “I’ll give you the ring…but you have to make sure I get to be your best man…or whatever you want to call it.” “Really?….fine that’s…doable.” “And you have to name your first child after me in someway.” “Gemma be serious.” “I am being serious! This is a family heirloom I’m giving you Harry so take my conditions or leave and go to Tiffany’s or something.” “God you’re so annoying at times…but fine…fine yeah okay….anything else?” “She’s the only one that gets this ring Harry…if she says no you give it back to me understood?” “Yes…understood.” “Good…does mum know?” “No…and you’re not going to tell her either…or else.” “Or else what? I’m not afraid of you little brother.” “I’ll tell her the exact reason her beloved rose printed tea set is missing a tea cup…” “you wouldn’t…” “oh I would…so don’t tempt me Gem…keep this conversation to yourself.” “You’re such a brat…fine..I won’t tell anyone now go away before I change my mind.”

[delulujuls]

fuck, marry, kill | lh44, gr63

hi! im sorry for not being on time but hey, no surprise to having the best ideas when its already too late. anyway please enjoy!

summary: the mercedes trio is getting ready for halloween party, lewis is being a total babygirl as always, georgie boy being unbothered king as always too

warnings: none, they are pure goofballs

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!mercdriver x george russell

George scrunched his nose, feeling the first stamp of paint on his cheek.

"I already don't like this."

Y/N rolled her eyes, putting more paint onto the sponge.

"I've just started, so please cooperate and let me work."

He squeezed his eyelids as he felt his face gradually being covered in white color. The atmosphere at the Mercedes headquarters that afternoon was very exciting, all due to preparations for the evening Halloween party.

"Is it at least vegan?" George asked again, nervously adjusting himself in his place.

Lewis sitting next to them couldn't help but laugh, tearing his gaze away from his phone.

"Give me one reason why makeup paint wouldn't be vegan" he asked.

"I have no idea, that's why I'd rather make sure."

Y/N shook her head and returned to covering his face with paint.

"And you, Lewis, do you have any ideas yet?"

She asked, glancing at the man who had been searching for inspiration for his costume for the past few minutes.

"I'd advise against anything with white paint and it's not just because it could be seen as racist."

George chimed in, trying to scratch his nose for which he immediately received a tap on the hand.

"Men in Black? The Weeknd?" the man shook his head while scrolling through Pinterest. "Everything is too simple and obvious."

"We could have some matching costumes," Russell suggested, feeling relieved as the girl put down the paint and reached for powder. "I'd feel better knowing that you guys are going through this as well."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Y/N nodded, looking at her friends. "The only question is, what kind?"

Lewis exhaled and focused on his phone again. The trio remained silent for a moment until the man showed them a photo with an potential inspiration.

"I think I have a favorite."

Y/N furrowed her brows, looking at the photo he showed. It took her a moment to decipher what the trio of girls in the picture was dressed up as.

"Fuck, Marry, Kill! Oh God, that is brilliant!"

"Let me be 'Kill' because I might as well kill myself if I have to wash this off" George said, adjusting the headband holding his hair.

"I'm fine with that" the girl assured, taking a brush, black eyeshadow and starting to paint skull elements on his face. "And what about you, Lewis?"

"I can let you have the first choice."

The man replied, resting on his hand and watching as George's makeup slowly began to take shape.

"Everyone thinks 'Fuck' when they look at you, so I guess we know the answer."

The girl said, giving him a meaningful look.

Lewis looked a little flustered, trying to cover his reaction with laughter. The three of them had been friends for almost four years, but Lewis was very easy to embarrass, even in jokes.

"You'd look good as the groom though, but I'm sure that everyone would probably point out that Y/N is being objectified for letting her being "Fuck", what about woman rights and all the other shitty nonsense," George added "PR people would have a busy evening."

"Geez Georgie boy, just say that I'm not attractive and no one would want to fuck me," Y/N interjected with feigned seriousness, struggling to hold back her laughter.

"Don't provoke me into this conversation, especially not now when I'm not at my best," he replied, trying to remain still as she painted his eyes.

Lewis returned to browsing his phone, this time with a clear idea of what he was looking for. When he found a specific photo, he hesitated for a moment about presenting his idea.

"Do you have red lipstick, Y/N?" He asked uncertainly, glancing at his friend. She nodded, not breaking her concentration. However, when he didn't expand on the topic, she looked at him.

"But what do you need red lipstick for, exactly?"

Lewis wordlessly showed her his phone with a picture where a guy was covered in red lipstick kisses. Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock, while George nodded approvingly.

"The idea is great and I truly love you, but don't count me as the one to give you those kisses,"Russell replied.

Lewis looked at Y/N, unsure if this suggestion wasn't too much and could potentially offend her in any way. However, she didn't react negatively at all; instead, she nodded and smiled enthusiastically.

"People on Twitter are gonna shit themselves."

When George's makeup was ready, the rest of the preparations went smoothly. Even getting the wedding accessories for Y/N wasn't as problematic as keeping Russell in one place with his mouth shut for more than five minutes during his make up. When the girl was ready, she took the red lipstick, which was the highlight of the program and found Lewis, who was already dressed in his dark red suit pants, perfectly matching his shirt. The man smiled at the sight of his friend, who had done a great job finding her costume at the last minute.

"How do you feel about the party?" the girl asked, opening a small mirror and painting her lips.

"I'm okay, and you?" the man replied, nervously adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

"Me too, I must admit I like these kinds of parties."

Y/N closed the mirror and glanced at her friend, signaling him to sit down. He followed her command, getting nervous almost as if it were his first interaction with a girl ever.

"Do you have any specific idea about how to arrange these kisses, or can I improvise?"

"I trust you completely."

The girl nodded and without thinking too much just leaned toward him. Just then George entered the room, also dressed and ready to go.

"Thank goodness I found you in time," he said, closing the door behind him. "Now no one can accuse you of deliberate kisses."

"You're definitely taking this too seriously," Y/N laughed and leaned toward Lewis, pressing her lips to his cheek. The man smiled involuntarily and looked at her, slightly taken aback when she moved away and examined her work.

"One down, about twenty-nine to go," George commented, sitting in a nearby chair. "Don't fall in love with each other during this time."

Lewis sat still, even trying not to breathe too loudly. Y/N left kisses on his cheek, neck and chest like stamps. When she finished, she nodded approvingly.

"It turned out better than I thought."

"We all look awesome, but now get rid of the evidence and let's go because I'm starving."

The girl wiped her lips clean and the three of them headed to the company's party. Y/N secured seats, Lewis went for drinks and George immediately greeted the snacks. Toto holding a champagne glass took a big sip when he noticed Lewis's rather original outfit.

"I guess you're not the author of those kisses."

The man stated more than he asked, when he approached George.

"Come on, boss, I used my best lipstick for this. Huda Beauty," George said with utmost seriousness and holding three plates of snacks he returned to his friends, ready for the next adventures of the Halloween night.

[fleetingcalypso]

Hello! I just stumbled across your blog, and find the way you write and portray Henry in your stories absolutely captivating. I just finished reading the book for the first time ever today and managed to do so without seeing any spoilers beforehand, so safe to say that Henry's suicide blindsided me completely. In hindsight it made complete sense, but I'm still in denial about it and would love a story about him actually surviving his wounds. Henry gives me the vibe of hiding everything that was happening from anyone but those in the Greek class alongside him, which, in my opinion, would even extend to his partner as well. I think it would be really interesting if his partner comes to visit him in the hospital after he's just woken up (ignoring the logical fact that he'd probably be heavily brain damaged) and is just absolutely devastated because she/they thought he was genuinely taking his life because he was depressed. To me, even then I don't see Henry fessing up to what's actually been happening, and I think it'd be cool to see the way he would try and talk his way out of it. (Henry seems pretty closed off emotionally, but I'd love some genuine hurt/comfort, only if this idea intrigues you of course.) thank you! (:

≋ The dread of losing a loved one, the knowledge that someone's time could have come faster than expected, the paranoid of could have happened had help on arrived on time, the fear of the future holds. These feelings are not foreign to me. At any rate, everyone sails away from Ogygia one day or another, I am accustomed to it. For anyone else, I want to emphasize that themes of this narration are quite heavy, if need be please don't be afraid to reach out to me for help or simple communication. You're not alone and you are deeply loved. Going back to Henry, I am of the opinion he'd try to manipulate his way out of a truly meaningful conversation. He's quite the orator, after all.

≋ Henry Winter x GN!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 2190 words.

≋ TW: Attempted s*icide, angst, manipulation, reader feels an exorbitant amount of guilt, somewhat hurt/comfort.

≋ CW: As the themes are quite heavy and Henry is a pragmatic, stoic character, I feel like there could not be much comfort in a scenario like this. He'd be too busy trying to find another way to get out of the mess he's in, to take the time to comfort his loved one. I beg your forgiveness for not including most of the genuine comfort you were searching for, but if you were to enjoy this nonetheless, I'd be thrilled.

On my way to Henry’s hospital room, sprinting through the haunting sterile hallways I ran into Camilla Macaulay, a girl -the only one- in his class, she was just here to bring him some flowers she’d tell me before her body began trembling trying to hold back sobs and I was left to watch her scurry away, I could not get a word in to ask her anything at all, if he was awake, if he was alright, why he did it, why they all waited days before telling me he had tried to end his life. The intensity of the drum beating in my chest could barely compare against the headache I brought upon myself, drowning in my own salty tears. 

I nearly went into cardiac arrest when I spotted him, the only thing reassuring me that he still had a pulse was the rhythmic movement of his chest, rising with each breath he took accompanied by the beeping of a heart monitor I can’t bring myself to glimpse at. “I can feel you staring.” He said, his croaky voice already tugging at my heartstring. I can’t look away even if I wanted to: it’s a sight I never thought I’d see, as abominable as it is I fear that if I avert my gaze then the puzzle pieces might never fall into place and I might never know the motive of his extreme action. 

Does he hate me? I can’t help but wonder if during what could have been his last breaths he thought of me, if maybe he wished I was there to stop him and remind him of how loved he is. The image of him searching for my body next to his as he collapses lifeless makes me shudder. I come to the conclusion that I failed in everything when it comes to Henry. Not being able to read between the lines, I barely scratched the surface of him while I thought I was in deep waters. 

He was content in life, I think. Yes, in one moment where exhaustion took ahold of him and he was more asleep than awake, in the comforting hiding place under my blankets he confessed to me that he had a lot on his mind. I never could have imagined it would lead to this: two gunshots to the temple, according to what Richard -another one of his classmates- told me over the phone, the second being triggered by the gun’s recoil.

I wasn’t there, I thought at that moment, Henry had taken a gun to his head and I wasn’t there. Henry had tried to kill himself and I wasn’t there. He could have been lying in a pool of his hot blood, flowing out on the ground and expanding like a stain on a white shirt, and I wasn’t there to hold him in his possible final moments. He could have died and I would have found out thanks to a desolate phone call from a stuttering man I didn’t know that well, or maybe even from a serious police officer just doing his job. Nonetheless, Henry’s finger had pressed the trigger in front of a handful of people and I wasn’t anywhere near him.

Cement bricks become chained to my ankles, getting heavier and heavier with each hesitant step I take towards him. I would have flown to him if I could have, crashed at the side of his bed, thrown my arms around his neck in ecstatic joy for his survival, kissed him a thousand times for each second I spent unaware of his whereabouts or his feelings.

“How do you feel?” I foolishly ask, being rewarded with his eyes cracking open and settling on my figure which I know will look indistinct and blurry to him given the absence of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “Dead,” he answers me. To think the fierce storm he held in his irises was something that could very well have been a sight no one in the world could have appreciated in full. 

The mattress shifted and dipped under my weight when I sat at the edge of his bed, the chair at his side remaining empty. I wanted to feel him, touch him, try to be as close as possible and a sad little chair putting even the smallest of distances between us was the last thing I desired. Reaching towards the night table I found his glasses with ease, the only other things sitting on the surface were a pack of unopened Lucky Strike cigarettes, his wallet and the fragrant bouquet of flowers his friend had brought. I cleaned the lenses with a handkerchief and then tried my best to not look at the seemingly infinite bandages wrapping his head as I set the glasses on his face.

He blinks once, twice, thrice before he finally sees me as I am, without a hazy cloud over my face.

“Well, you’re not,” I inform him, swallowing the ‘what-if’ stuck in the middle of my throat, “By a miracle, I heard a nurse say. A miracle saved you Henry, do you hear how lucky that sounds?”

“I hear you.” He exhales, a sinkhole forms in me when I catch that small tone of disappointment hidden layer after layer under his voice, “Lucky indeed.” It’s dreadful how he keeps his gaze low, set in my direction but never quite reaching my eyes. It’s even more embarrassing to admit I do not understand him, I haven’t been able to do so since the very beginning.

That is to say, me not understanding him, does not mean I do not love him. He’d been the best lover a human being could ever ask for, there were no fights, no arguments, no disagreements, just pure unapologetic passion. Only once did we not see eye to eye and even then it was soon enough resolved over a glass of whiskey and a couple cigarettes: when he travelled to Rome with his friend Bunny without so much as a “I’ll be back soon,”  leaving me worried to no end as to where he might be.

“Talk to me, Henry. What happened?” I knew what happened of course, he’d shot himself in the head, but what I craved wasn’t a rundown of events, a bullet point list of the movements he made to get two bullets in his cranium. No. I desperately needed some way to understand what led him to attempting to do such a drastic thing. Were there signs I missed? Was I not loving enough? What hurt him so much? Was he truly that miserable in life, and if so, how had he hid it so well?

“Don’t cry,” he said, lifting the one arm that did not have the tube connecting him to the IV drip, his finger made contact with the corner of my eye and only then did I realise the salty diamonds rolling down my cheeks. I did not want to cry in front of him, not if it would add onto his miseries. As if I was kneeling in a confessional I have to come clean, I did not think I had any more tears left in me after having cried myself to sleep the night prior. Guilty of not appreciating the beauty of Selene as she brightened the darkened world, guilty of living only for the hospital doors to open and seeing him again.

“I have to ask, you know I have to.” Now that I was aware of the tears, nothing could have stopped the stinging feeling that seemed to spread from my eyes to every inch of my being, “Why did you do it?” There was no sugarcoating it, he’s never been one to beat around the bush and he often would not appreciate me going around in circles trying to find the nicest way to say or ask something. 

His jaw clenched and I watched hopelessly as Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His lips parted but no sound that made proper sense came out. In my head I had already formed some hypotheses, none of them struck me as much as what he said. “I had to.” He apathetically said and I vaguely registered the sharp pain in my palm as my nails digging into my skin to stop my body from doubling-over and breaking into a gut wrenching sob.

“I-” Never has my mind been blank like this moment, it made so much sense and none at the same time,“I- Just- Why? Give me a reason- a concrete reason, Henry.” I all but begged him, sniffling like a whimpering child. That was exactly how I felt, like a child: small, lost and with no way to do something that could actually make a difference. 

Through my glossy vision I observed as he stiffened in pain while he shifted in his bed trying to sit up, the bedsheets moving along with his every movement made me nauseous. They weren’t supposed to be hospital ones, he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place, this should have never happened. Alas, it has happened and he is not sitting in the armchair he claimed as his own in my apartment, reading a book and letting the cloud of smoke from his cigarette expand until my entire house looks like a misty field.

Ignored and useless was my attempt to stop him, to get him to lay down and not do anything straining, “Come here,” Instead he requested, hinting towards the spot he’d left on the bed, right next to him. Sheepishly I shuffled to his side, my back against the bed’s headboard, hoping and praying that no nurses would spot us and ask me to move away. His arm found its way around my shoulders, pulling me into a protective side hug and I shattered in small, countless, infinite pieces: a pathetic catharsis. Broken sobs, gasps and hiccups filled the room yet i could hear him over the sound of my desperation, “Don’t cry,” he’d say softly in my ear, “There’s no need to cry,” he’d insist kissing my temple, “Everything is going to be fine.” He’d promise me solemnly, with his enchanting way of making me feel like his words were gospel.

My heaving breaths did everything they could to send oxygen into my lungs, but air was not what I needed. Henry was my air, and the idea that I could have lost him for eternity plagued me, it made me look over my shoulder each moment expecting to see the grim reaper. The panic I felt gave me the strength to cling onto my lover as if he was my only lifeline, as if my love filled embrace could be the only thing able to bind him to the mortal realm. I know that could never be, sadly. Love, as much as it is a primordial force in the world, rivalling hate and rage, oftentimes can’t be the holy saviour we need.

“Why?” I found myself once again begging, I could not accept his previous answer, I pitifully needed something concrete, something I could fix. Before I could break into sobs again he leaned even closer, his lips moving against my hairline, his voice barely audible - like he was telling me a secret- only for me to hear, “I have been through some dark moments of my life, ones that I have never mentioned to you, not because I do not love you, the very opposite of it. I love you, my love for you is as incandescent as the sun, you know it, certainly. I did not want you to be concerned with those parts of me, hidden pieces that I rarely even let myself recognize as part of myself. Your pure hands should never be dirtied with the corruption that runs free inside of me. Cease your tears now, it is okay.” 

“So instead of letting me help you, you decided to just shoot yourself?!” It might have been harsh, but I felt at an impasse, raising my voice was my undignified way of getting ahold of control over life, “Are you listening to yourself? What about me? What would I have done without you? I’d do anything for you, isn’t it obvious?! I don’t care what you’re hiding, I don’t care how corrupt you think you are, I love you and I want to assist you through the darkest times of your life.”

He seemed to think about it, perhaps my words had made an impact on him or perhaps he was just tired of arguing with me. When he kissed me, slow and delicate, that was enough for me to postpone the debate I was already preparing in my head. I'd talk his ear off about letting me be a hand in easing his burdens when he would be well enough to be discharged and go home. “I want you to live forever,” Henry all but implored me and I just nodded. Whatever in the world could I say other than yes, but on one condition: he was to live alongside me.

[kiris-wife]

busted | ao'nung + sully brothers

summary: ao'nung and sully!reader have been in a secret relationship for a while, sneaking out late at night to see each other. when her siblings start to suspect something is going on between them, they put their sister in a little embarrassing situation. see the request here!

genre(s): humor ig, a lil bit of fluff

warnings: just siblings being nosy as always :p protective big bro teyam, lo'ak is really goofy in this, also reader is his twin bc why not

when you first met ao'nung, you hated him. he was constantly bothering you and your siblings and getting you into trouble. but as the months passed, the metkayina was slowly becoming more and more tolerable; wich eventually led to you becoming friends, and later on, something more.

exchanging meaningful looks that only you and him seemed to notice, smiles between conversations and slight touches in front of your friends soon became something common between the two teenagers. but of course people were gonna find out sooner or later.

the first one to notice was you older brother, neteyam. at first the boy thought he was just imagining things — there was no way his baby sister was getting involved with him, out of all people. even if ao'nung has changed his manners towards your family, the omaticaya couldn't seem to let the grudge go.

then, lo'ak used to wake up in the middle of the night to you silently sneaking away to eywa-knows-where and staying until dawn, returning before your parents woke up. he didn't care at first, but when your escapades became more and more frequent, he knew something was up.

"shes gotta be with him, bro. there's no way this is a coincidence! we have to do something." your twin has been annoying neteyam all morning with this since he mentioned that you and ao'nung seemed closer than normal, remembering lo'ak of your outings in the dead of night. soon they realized: their sister was in a relationship.

"what do you me want to do? this is none of our business, lo'ak. she'll tell us when she's ready."

"come on. stop pretending you're not dying to know if they're really dating!" he smiled mid sentence. the thought of you getting a partner before him and neteyam was really funny to lo'ak. "i can see it in your eyes! you're jealous!"

"fine. we'll follow her next time to see if she's really meeting him. and for the record, i'm not jealous. just worried."

and then, they waited. lo'ak kept himself awake until late at night, pretending to be asleep, to see if you were going to leave — he was really invested in this. but for a few days, you stayed in the family's house. it was almost like you were suspecting them. but of course your brothers weren't going to give up so easily: lo’ak was always so nosy when it came to your personal life, and even though neteyam wouldn't admit, he really wanted to know if you really were dating, maybe even more than your twin.

but one night, it happened. trying to be as quiet as possible, you get up and direct yourself to the entrance, sneaking out without anyone noticing — at least that's what you thought. but as soon as you closed the marui, lo'ak quickly sat down and woke up the older boy.

"bro. wake up. wake up! she's leaving." he said violently shaking neteyam, not even worrying with the volume of his voice.

"what the- be quiet! you will end up getting us all into trouble."

"sorry. let's follow her before she goes too far, let's go!"

meanwhile, you made your way to the rocks near the sea, your boyfriend already waiting for you; he always got out of home first so he didn't have to make you wait. arriving earlier than you expected, you couldn't shake this terrible feeling that you were being watched, making you walk faster than you normally do. the taller one noticed the change in your movements from far away and the worried expression on your face, pulling you closer to him once you got where he was.

ao'nung gave a gentle kiss on your lips before asking: "is everything ok, my love? you look bothered.”

you felt you heart melt with the nickname — he always knew how to make you flustered without even trying. that's what you loved the most about your boyfriend: he was always so caring and sweet with you, completely destroying the view you had from him months ago. hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you shake you head in response. there was no need to worry him with this, after all, you must've been imagining things. "are you sure? you seem pretty tense."

"i just have this odd feeling that i'm being watched. but it's nothing, really. my mind must be playing tricks on me."

he looked around for a moment before turning his attention back to you. "it must be. let's sit down?"

...

“they just kissed! gross!” lo’ak said in a whisper. “imagine when dad finds out! he's gonna throw a tantrum. his precious little girl is finally dating!”

“shut up, skxawng. they're going to hear us. we need to get closer, i can barely see or hear anything.”

“oh? what did you say a few days ago again? ‘she's going to tell us when she's ready! what do you want me to do?’ you're such a bad liar, brother.”

giving lo’ak a playful smack on the shoulder, neteyam got a few steps closer to you, being careful to not be seen.

laying your head on his lap while he gently caressed your hair, you were telling ao’nung everything about the forest and how you used to love ikran racing, going out with your sisters to collect different plants and fruits, climbing trees and and how beautiful the hallelujah montains were. but there was something your brothers couldn't see — the way he looked at you. like you were the most beautiful na’vi in pandora; ao’nung was absolutely smitten with you, from the way you talked to the way you smiled. he surely was in love, his softer side reserved only for you.

he leaned in closer to your face to give you a peck on the lips. but a peck turned into two, and two turned into three. soon, you were passionately kissing under the moonlight, butterflies taking over your stomach.

“ew. should we confront them? this is getting awkward. they're eating each other's faces.”

abruptly getting up, your older brother made his way to you without thinking twice. lo’ak far behind him, trying to contain the laughter that was begging to be let out. there was no way in hell he would let you forget this moment.

“hey! what do you think you're doing with my sister, fish lips?”

oh eywa.

“neteyam? lo’ak- what are you doing here?” you couldn't believe your eyes; did your brothers seriously follow you all this way here just to spy on you? “i can't believe this. i'm going to murder you! for how long have you been here?”

“long enough to know there's something between you and fish lips! and you didn't even tell us, y/n… i thought we told each other everything. i'm hurt!” now lo’ak was just making fun of you. feeling your cheeks heat up you gave ao’nung a quick “im sorry” glance, wich he responded with an awkward smile.

“hey, pretty boy. i was talking to you. what are your intentions with her?”

“neteyam. no. you're not doing this right now! leave!”

everything was a chaos. you couldn't contain your frustration anymore, your brother asking a million questions to ao’nung while you tried to make him stop, lo’aks laugher echoing in the back of your mind. “stop! stop, all of you!”

the raise of your voice was unexpected, the boys getting quiet all at once. “you two. come with me. we're going home before we wake up the whole village. or even worse: our parents notice our absence. wait for me right there.” you said pointing to the place they were before.

“you don't-"

“neteyam. now. you don't want us to get in trouble, do you?” he grumbled something you didn't quite catch and left, pulling a very entertained lo’ak by the arm.

you lowered your voice just in case they could hear you. “baby… i'm sorry about them. eywa, i can't decide if i want to kill myself or those two!”

“it's fine. your family was always a little crazy. i guess you took after them.”

“what? i'm the most normal one there!” you laughed. at least he wasn't mad about this. giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you left. “i’ll see you when the sun rises i guess.”

“see you later.”

now your attention was aimed towards the two idiots that you called your brothers. getting closer to them with each step you took, your anger only got bigger. “what is wrong with you guys? spying on me, embarrassing me in front of my boyfriend, sneaking out! if dad finds out we're dead! all of us!”

“so you admit that he is your boyfriend!” you gave lo’ak a flick on the head. “skxawng. i could kill you both right now!”

the walk back home was silent for the most part — you were fuming with anger. only when you were getting closer to home, neteyam broke the ice:

“i don't like him.”

“good thing i'm the one dating him, not you.”

silence again.

“guys.” you turned your head to lo’ak. “i'm y/n’s twin. do you think he's attracted to me too? since we have the same face and all.” you wanted to smack away the mischievous smile on his face.

“that's gross. please don't ever say this again!” now you couldn't help but laugh. how could he be such an idiot?

of course you couldn't be mad at them forever — they might be nosy and annoying, but you were still family. and the sullys always stick together.

authors note: ok so this is not ao'nung centered at all oops! i don't know if i managed to do exactly what the anon asked but i swear i tried my best with this one... also him and lo'ak are a pain in the ass to write.

likes + reblogs are appreciated ♡