#the people cheering in the street 🥹🥹

[lovegrowswherevermyrosemarygoes]

just watched the rebels finale, why did I do my makeup before this? sobbing.

[faebled-stories]

The Longest Month

Kinkvember Day 30: Orgasm Control/NNN

Kiss of life Natty (Anatchaya Suputtipong) x Male reader

21.8k words

AN: Last day of Kinkvember 🥹🥹 (might be a little rough on the editing, please forgive me)

Halloween night was alive with excitement. The crisp autumn air carried the sound of laughter, music, and the occasional howl of costumed revelers. Porchlights flickered over carved pumpkins, their grins twisted and glowing, while the streets buzzed with groups hopping from one party to the next. Inside your home, though, the atmosphere was calm and quiet, a comforting contrast to the chaos outside.

Natty stood by the door, dressed casually in fitted jeans and a snug sweater, her hair tied back in a way that framed her face perfectly. She smiled as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "I’m heading out with the girls," she said, her tone light and cheerful. "Just a little Halloween fun, nothing wild."

You nodded, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you stepped closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Have fun,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “Call me if you need anything.”

She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before slipping out the door. The soft click of it closing behind her left the house quiet again. For a while, you settled into the stillness, content to let the evening pass uneventfully. The trust between you was implicit—Natty had always been honest, and you’d always respected her freedom.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, an uneasy feeling began to creep in. It was subtle at first, a whisper of doubt that you tried to shake off. She’d said she was with her girlfriends. There was no reason to worry. Yet the stillness of the house suddenly felt heavy, oppressive, as if something was just slightly out of place.

The buzz of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts. You picked it up, your brow furrowing as you saw the name: a friend of yours who worked as a bartender downtown. Opening the message, your stomach tightened at the words.

“Didn’t know Natty was hitting the scene tonight. She’s here at Platinum—hard to miss in that outfit.”

You stared at the text, your mind racing. Platinum? She hadn’t said anything about going to a club. The unease bloomed into suspicion as you quickly typed back.

“What outfit?”

The response came almost instantly, and when you read it, the words landed like a punch.

“Catwoman vibes, but damn, man… It’s a lot. Skin-tight, zipper low, fake tail. People are definitely looking. ”

Your jaw clenched as you reread the message, disbelief and frustration battling for dominance. She hadn’t just gone somewhere else—she’d lied. And she was wearing something that sounded far removed from her usual playful confidence, something designed to draw attention. Strangers were ogling her.

You didn’t bother replying. The anger was cold and focused, sharpening your resolve as you grabbed your jacket. The night air bit at your skin as you stepped outside, but the chill only fueled the fire simmering in your chest. You didn’t rush, your stride purposeful as you made your way, thoughts churning.

The trust you’d built, the respect you’d shown her freedom—tonight, she’d crossed a line. And by the time you reached the glowing lights of the club, you knew exactly what needed to happen.

Platinum was everything you expected—a pulsing epicenter of energy, where music pounded through the walls and spilled onto the street. The air inside was heavy with heat, a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and perfume that clung to your skin. Strobe lights sliced through the crowd, casting fleeting glimpses of costumed bodies pressed together in a chaotic dance.

You pushed your way through the throng of people, your eyes scanning the crowd. And then you saw her.

Natty was on the dance floor, her body moving to the rhythm of the music. She wore a skintight black spandex one-piece, the zipper pulled low enough to reveal the swell of her breasts. Fake cat ears perched on her head, and a thin decorative tail swayed with her movements. The outfit clung to her curves like a second skin, catching the light with every turn.

She was laughing, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, her lips parted as she threw herself into the moment. Strangers circled her, their eyes lingering too long, leaning in too close. She seemed utterly carefree, completely unaware of the storm brewing in you as you watched from the edge of the crowd.

She hadn’t told you about this. She hadn’t mentioned a club, or an outfit that looked like this. She had lied.

Your emotions churned—anger, disappointment, the sharp edge of control you always held carefully in balance. But you didn’t react impulsively. Instead, you moved through the crowd with purpose, your gaze fixed on her.

The crowd buzzed around her, bodies swaying in chaotic rhythm, the pulsing music drowning out everything else. Strobe lights flashed in bursts, illuminating her in snapshots—a vision of confidence and teasing allure. Her laughter was bright, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, as she leaned toward a stranger who was speaking too close. The low zipper of her costume shimmered under the lights, her every move a magnet for attention.

You stepped closer, your presence cutting through the sea of people. The noise and chaos dulled in your mind, every ounce of focus fixed on her. As you approached, she didn’t notice at first, lost in the moment, the music, and the hazy buzz in her veins. But when you reached out and tapped her shoulder, everything shifted.

She turned to you, her laughter faltering. Wide eyes met yours, the realization hitting her instantly. The flush of the alcohol drained from her face, replaced by something colder—guilt, fear, and the dawning understanding of exactly what was happening. The crowd around her seemed to fade into the background, her focus locked entirely on you.

Her lips parted as though she might say something, but no words came. She froze, her body stiff, the haze of alcohol lifting just enough to make the weight of the situation clear.

“We’re going home,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the music with effortless authority.

The words were simple, but their effect was immediate. Her mouth snapped shut, and she nodded quickly, her head dipping in quiet submission. You didn’t wait for her to respond further. Without another word, you turned and began walking toward the exit, not sparing her another glance, not even taking her wrist to guide her. You didn’t need to. You knew she’d follow.

Behind you, her heels clicked against the sticky floor as she scrambled to keep up, weaving through the crowd. No one around her seemed to notice the shift in her demeanor, but you could feel it. The weight of her guilt, her submission, radiated in every hurried step as she followed you out of the club without needing to be told twice.

The crisp night air hit like a slap, the stark contrast to the heat and chaos inside. It was quieter out here, the muffled thump of the music still audible but distant. The autumn chill bit at your skin, but you barely noticed. Natty stayed close, her head bowed, her breath visible in the cold air. Her fake cat ears tilted slightly to one side, askew and crooked, as if even they reflected her subdued state.

She didn’t speak, and neither did you. The silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating, a clear signal that words weren’t needed. You led the way to the car, your steps purposeful, your jaw tight. Natty trailed behind, her head low, her shoulders hunched slightly as though trying to shrink under the weight of her own guilt. It wasn’t just her steps that were submissive—it was everything about her now, the way her presence shrank under your unwavering authority.

When you reached the car, your movements were calm, almost mechanical. You walked to her side, your expression neutral as you opened the passenger door for her. She hesitated for just a moment, her wide eyes flicking up to yours, searching for some indication of what you were feeling. But you gave her nothing, your face a mask of quiet control.

She slipped into the seat silently, her body tense as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her costume. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and the stillness inside the car was oppressive. You moved around to the driver’s side, sliding in and gripping the wheel, but you didn’t start the car right away. Instead, you stared ahead, your jaw set as your thoughts churned.

From the corner of your eye, you could see her shift uncomfortably. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers gripping the fabric of her costume tightly as though it could anchor her. It was clear she was waiting, bracing herself for the storm to come. But you didn’t say a word. You let the silence stretch, thick and heavy, the weight of what had happened settling deeper over both of you.

Finally, you turned the key, the engine rumbling to life. The car pulled out onto the street, the bright lights of the club fading quickly into the rearview mirror. The ride home was long, the silence between you stretching like a taut wire, ready to snap. She glanced at you occasionally, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak, to explain, but she stopped herself each time. The tension in the air was suffocating, every unspoken word weighing her down further.

You didn’t look at her. Your gaze stayed fixed on the road, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. Her silence told you everything. She knew she had crossed a line, knew the trust you’d placed in her had been broken. And now, for the first time tonight, it seemed she understood—she wasn’t just caught. She was yours, completely.

When you arrived home, the quiet of the house was almost deafening. The faint hum of the fridge, the soft click of the front door as it shut behind you, even her hesitant footsteps on the hardwood floor—all of it felt amplified against the heavy stillness. She lingered near the entryway, her body stiff, her hands clenching at her sides. You didn’t say anything, your expression unreadable as you walked toward the living room.

Settling into the couch, you glanced at her, your eyes sharp and commanding. The weight of your gaze was enough to draw her forward, her body moving instinctively as though compelled. She sank to her knees in front of you, the skintight material of her costume creaking softly with her movement. The faint glimmer of the fabric caught the low light of the room, but her focus was entirely on you.

Her head bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her breaths came shallow and uneven as she knelt there, waiting for your words, knowing that whatever came next would be entirely in your hands.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive. You leaned back slightly, your arms crossed, letting her squirm under the weight of your gaze. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. The subtle tilt of her cat ears seemed to mirror the unease radiating off her as she knelt before you, unable to meet your eyes.

“Explain,” you said finally, your voice low and sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Her head snapped up for just a moment, her wide, guilty eyes meeting yours before darting away again. She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I didn’t think you’d let me go if I told you about the party. I thought you’d get mad about the outfit, about the people—so I lied.”

Her hands moved restlessly, fidgeting at the zipper of her costume, the nervous gesture small but telling. Her shoulders were tense, her entire posture shrinking under the intensity of your silence. She hesitated before speaking again, her voice growing quieter, more fragile. “It didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t… trying to hide anything important.”

You let the words hang in the air, your expression unchanging as she squirmed. Her breathing hitched, her body trembling slightly as the weight of your silence pressed down on her. Her lip quivered, and she blinked rapidly, clearly fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

“That’s not the point,” you said finally, your voice cold and deliberate. “It’s not about the outfit. It’s not about the party. It’s about trust. And you broke it.”

Her shoulders slumped further, her head bowing again as the full weight of your words hit her. She nodded faintly, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” The words were fragile, so faint you almost missed them, and yet they carried the guilt and regret that were written across her face.

“When,” you asked, leaning forward slightly, “have I ever not let you go anywhere?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and glassy. The question caught her off guard, and for a moment, she stared at you as though searching for the answer herself. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“When have I forbidden you from wearing the most revealing outfits?” Your voice softened slightly, but the disappointment still lingered in your tone. “When, Natty? Tell me.”

Her lips trembled, and her gaze dropped to her lap. “You haven’t,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it barely reached you.

You nodded slowly, letting the truth sink in for her. “Exactly. I’ve always let you make your own choices. Always given you permission. And yet, you still lied to me. Why?”

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “I… I don’t know,” she choked out, her hands gripping the hem of her costume tightly. “I was stupid. I didn’t want you to be mad, and I—” She broke off, her voice cracking under the weight of her guilt. “I’m sorry.” The words were fragile, so faint you almost missed them, and yet they carried the guilt and regret that were written across her face.

You sighed deeply, letting the moment stretch, the weight of her guilt hanging between you like a tangible presence. Her fidgeting hands, the way her eyes darted to the floor, her lips trembling with barely spoken words—it all told you that she knew the gravity of what she’d done. And yet, the lesson needed to be clear. Trust wasn’t just something taken lightly in your dynamic; it was the foundation upon which everything else rested.

You considered your options carefully, your mind cycling through potential punishments, discarding each one almost as quickly as it appeared. Something physical? No, that wouldn’t linger in the way you needed it to. Silence? Distance? Those would create tension, but not the kind that would truly drive the lesson home. Then, like a light flickering on, the perfect answer surfaced—a punishment so fitting it almost seemed like the universe had handed it to you on a silver platter.

No Nut November.

The trend was a joke to most, a playful challenge making its rounds on the internet. But for Natty, it would be anything but playful. You knew her intimately, perhaps better than she even knew herself. Her teasing confidence, her constant craving for closeness, her love for release—it was part of who she was. Denying her that for an entire month wasn’t just a punishment. It was a torment. Something she would dread deeply and feel every moment of every day. And the timing was flawless.

Your lips curved into a faint smirk as you settled your gaze on her. She hadn’t dared to meet your eyes, her hands twisting nervously at the hem of her skirt as though trying to anchor herself. You let the silence stretch, letting the weight of the moment build until it felt almost suffocating. Then, your voice broke the stillness, calm and deliberate.

“If you’d been honest,” you began slowly, your tone measured, each word sinking deep, “I would have let you go. I wouldn’t have cared about the outfit, the party, or the people. But you lied, Natty. And now, there are consequences.”

Her head snapped up, her wide, fearful eyes locking onto yours. You saw the desperation there, the faint tremor in her lower lip as her mind raced to catch up with your words. “Consequences?” she echoed, her voice barely more than a whisper, the word trembling on her lips as though she were afraid to give it shape.

You straightened in your seat, the decision crystallizing as you delivered it with calm finality. “You’re going a month without cumming,” you said simply. “Starting now.”

Her reaction was immediate. She flinched as though struck, her lips parting in shock, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. “A… a month?” she stammered, her voice pitching higher, the disbelief and panic unmistakable. “No—please, no. I’ll do anything else. Just not that—please!”

You raised a hand, the gesture silencing her instantly. Her mouth snapped shut, her breath catching audibly as her wide eyes remained locked on you, pleading silently. “No exceptions,” you said firmly, your voice steady, brooking no argument. “This isn’t just about the lie. It’s about trust. Trust needs to be earned back.”

For a moment, she was frozen, her chest heaving as she stared at you, her mind clearly working to process the weight of what you’d said. Then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of her. Her shoulders slumped, and her gaze dropped to the floor. The first tears shimmered in her eyes, catching the light, but she held them back with visible effort.

Her voice was small, trembling with guilt and something deeper—fear. “I… I understand,” she whispered, the words fragile and full of resignation.

“Good.” Your tone softened just slightly, enough to let her know you weren’t angry anymore, though the weight of your authority remained. “Go to the bedroom. We’re done here.”

She stood slowly, her movements hesitant and stiff, as though her body were fighting against her mind’s compliance. The faint click of her heels on the hardwood floor was the only sound as she retreated down the hallway. Her posture was smaller than usual, her confident aura replaced by something subdued, vulnerable. There was no defiance in her steps, no attempt to bargain further—only quiet acceptance of her fate.

As she disappeared into the bedroom, the sound of rustling sheets filtering back to you, you let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair. The tension in your chest eased slightly, replaced by a calm satisfaction. You weren’t angry anymore. This wasn’t about revenge or punishment for its own sake. It was about re-establishing the foundation that held everything together—trust.

You sank into the couch, the weight of the moment settling over you like a heavy blanket. The balance you’d struck was delicate, but you knew it was necessary. Natty needed this, not just to understand the gravity of her actions but to grow from it. Deep down, you knew she would.

-----

The first few days passed in an uneasy stillness. The house, once filled with Natty’s teasing comments and playful laughter, now seemed quieter, the air heavier. Her usual spark had dimmed, her presence muted in a way that was both unfamiliar and telling. She moved through the rooms carefully, her steps softer, her gaze lowered whenever she passed you. It wasn’t fear—far from it. It was something deeper: submission edged with guilt.

She stayed busy, as though keeping her hands occupied would prevent her thoughts from spiraling. She fetched your coffee before you asked, setting it down with a barely audible, “Here you go.” She folded blankets that didn’t need folding, straightened things that were already straight, her hands fidgeting when there was nothing left to do. Her movements were deliberate, every action laced with a quiet hope that her obedience might earn her reprieve.

When she thought you weren’t watching, she allowed herself quick glances in your direction, her eyes searching for any hint of forgiveness. But when you met her gaze, her expression flickered, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming. She brushed against your side tentatively in passing, her fingers grazing your arm or shoulder as if testing the waters. Each time, you remained composed, offering no indication that her efforts were noticed.

The absence of reaction clearly unsettled her. For a moment, it almost seemed like she thought you’d forgotten about her punishment. But even then, the unspoken tension lingered between you, a quiet hum that grew louder with every passing hour.

By the third day, the shift in her behavior was undeniable. The subtle signs of restlessness began to creep in. She wrung her hands more often, her fingers twisting and untwisting as she tried to channel her growing nervous energy. When she sat, her knees bounced slightly, her body refusing to stay still. Her cheeks flushed more frequently, a faint pink that deepened whenever you entered the room. She wasn’t fully aware of it yet, but the need was beginning to stir—a slow, creeping sensation she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It was most evident when you were close to her. In the kitchen, as you stood near her to reach for something, she froze momentarily, the proximity sending a jolt through her. Her breath hitched, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to keep them occupied with a dish she was already drying.

“Something wrong?” you asked casually, your voice calm but pointed.

“N-no,” she stammered quickly, shaking her head. Her cheeks burned, and she turned away, her movements stiff as she set the dish down. She didn’t look at you, but the tension in her posture told you everything.

Later that evening, as you sat on the couch reading, she lingered in the doorway, clearly uncertain about what to do. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. When she finally stepped forward, she stopped a few feet away, her voice hesitant.

“Do you… need anything?” she asked softly, her words laced with hope.

You didn’t look up, turning a page instead. “No,” you said simply, your tone neutral.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she nodded, retreating back to the other room. The disappointment in her expression was brief, but it was there. You watched her go, noting the way her hands brushed against her thighs, as though grounding herself against the slow, creeping need she hadn’t yet put a name to.

As the hours stretched into night, the tension in her body became more visible. When she settled into bed, she shifted restlessly beneath the sheets, her breathing uneven. The faint sound of the fabric rustling was the only indication of her growing discomfort, but it was enough to bring a faint smirk to your lips. She wasn’t fully aware of it yet, but the punishment was beginning to take root. It was slow, deliberate, and exactly as it was meant to be.

Deep down, Natty must have known it too. But she clung to a fragile hope—a thought that if she waited long enough, if she behaved perfectly, you might let it pass without incident. It was wishful thinking, and you could see in her eyes that she already knew the truth.

It was late one evening, the kind of night where the house seemed to hum with a stillness that amplified every creak, every shift in the air. You stepped through the door, the long day weighing on your shoulders, your muscles tight with tension. The faint scent of Natty’s perfume greeted you before the soft shuffle of her footsteps reached your ears. She appeared in the entryway, her eyes bright but edged with a nervous energy that seemed to hover around her like a second skin.

Her smile was warm but hesitant, her hands clasped in front of her as if holding herself in place. She moved closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm as she reached for your coat. “Welcome home,” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual, almost cautious.

You nodded, a soft grunt of acknowledgment as you shrugged off your coat. The day’s weight still clung to you, the dull ache in your chest begging for rest. Before you could fully step past her, she moved again, her hand resting lightly on your chest. Then her lips brushed yours.

The kiss started soft, tentative—a whisper of warmth against the chill of the day. Her hands stayed light, one on your chest, the other grazing your shoulder, her body leaning in closer. For a moment, you let her, the subtle press of her mouth drawing you into the moment. She tasted faintly of mint, her lips warm and pliant as the kiss deepened.

She didn’t stop there. Her movements grew bolder, her body pressing flush against yours as her hands began to move. They trailed down to the edges of your collar, her fingertips brushing along your neck before drifting to the first button of your shirt. Her lips parted slightly, her breath mingling with yours, hot and heavy with quiet desperation. The faintest whimper escaped her throat as she tilted her head, pressing harder into the kiss, pouring everything into it.

You let her guide you toward the couch, her steps slow but deliberate. The kiss stayed connected, her lips never leaving yours as she coaxed you backward until the edge of the cushions met the back of your legs. You sank down, and she followed, her knees sliding on either side of your lap as she straddled you. Her hands moved more urgently now, gripping your shirt, her nails scraping lightly against the fabric as her hips shifted just enough to press her body closer.

She kissed you like she was unraveling, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked on the buttons of your shirt. Her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling against yours. For her, the rest of the world had disappeared—there was only you, the connection between you, and the fleeting hope that she could escape the boundaries you had set. Her need was palpable, her body leaning into yours with a quiet desperation that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

Then she reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers curling around the loose fabric and tugging it upward slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. The motion was subtle, almost hesitant, but it carried with it an unspoken plea. It wasn’t calculated—just instinct, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between the quiet tension and the simmering need she felt.

And just like that, the moment shifted.

You pulled back, your movement deliberate, breaking the kiss with a soft, almost imperceptible sound. Her breath caught audibly, her lips hovering in the space where yours had been, the warmth of you replaced by a cool absence that felt more striking than any words you could have spoken.

Her eyes fluttered open, and her expression flickered with confusion. Slowly, realization dawned, her cheeks flushing as she started to pull back further. Before she could, you pressed a hand gently to her shoulder—not harsh, but firm enough to still her completely.

“You’re still on punishment,” you said, your tone calm and measured, like a quiet storm.

Her lips parted slightly, a faint sound escaping them, almost like an aborted protest. Her gaze darted downward, her fingers loosening their hold on your shirt. “I wasn’t—” she started, her voice faltering. “I just thought—maybe if…”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting as her words trailed off into nothing. The faint blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck, her hands falling limply into her lap. She took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady herself. “I didn’t mean to push,” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Your hand left her shoulder, and you leaned back slightly, studying her. The tension in her posture betrayed her unease, though she stayed seated in your lap, her legs tucked to either side of you. Her lips pressed together faintly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“You thought what?” you asked after a beat, your voice calm but edged with quiet authority. “That I’d just forget the boundaries I’ve set? That I’d let this slide?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, her breathing uneven. “No,” she admitted softly. “I just thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d…” She didn’t finish the sentence, her words dissolving into silence.

You watched her carefully, the weight of your gaze enough to keep her still. After a moment, you guided her gently off your lap. She slid to the floor without resistance, her knees brushing the rug as she sank down in front of you. Her head dipped slightly, her posture shrinking as the realization of her overstep settled in.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

You stood, the couch creaking softly as you rose. Without another word, you stepped past her, your movements calm and deliberate. The sound of your footsteps faded as you left her kneeling there, the room suddenly feeling much emptier than before.

She didn’t move, her knees rooted to the spot, her hands resting limply in her lap. Her lips still tingled faintly from the kiss, a reminder of what had been taken away. Even as she stared at the space where you’d been, she couldn’t shake the growing realization: this wasn’t just a punishment. It was a reminder that, no matter what she thought she wanted, you were still in control.

-----

The days stretched into weeks, each one blurring into the next as Natty’s punishment continued. She tried to keep herself busy, focusing on tasks that didn’t need doing—organizing drawers, folding laundry that didn’t need folding—but it wasn’t long before the edges of her composure began to fray. The need was slow, insidious, creeping into her thoughts in moments of stillness until it was all-consuming.

Her usual spark had dulled, replaced by a quiet, simmering tension that followed her everywhere. She hovered near you constantly, her movements soft but deliberate, as though being close to you might ease the ache inside her. Every time you passed, her breath caught, and her gaze lingered on you, her wide eyes betraying the growing desperation she tried so hard to keep hidden.

You caught her once standing in the doorway, her hand resting against the frame as she watched you from a distance. When your eyes met, she flushed, her lips parting as though to say something, but no words came. Instead, she turned away quickly, her shoulders tight with frustration, the sound of her retreating footsteps echoing faintly through the quiet house.

But it wasn’t just the way she lingered. Her body betrayed her in other ways. The subtle tremor in her hands when she handed you your coffee, the way her fingers brushed against yours just a little too long, the way she bit her lip whenever you were close. She moved with an air of quiet submission, her every action laced with the unspoken hope that her obedience might draw you closer, might break the walls of the punishment you’d set.

You didn’t respond. You stayed composed, calm, offering no indication that you even noticed. And it drove her mad.

One evening, you stepped into the bedroom to find Natty perched on the edge of the bed. Her body was tense, shoulders hunched forward as though trying to fold into herself. In her hands, she clutched one of your shirts. The loose fabric was balled tightly, her knuckles whitening from the grip. She raised it to her face, burying her nose in it as her eyes fluttered closed. Her chest rose and fell in uneven, trembling breaths, the motion betraying her quiet desperation.

As she inhaled deeply, the faintest of shudders coursed through her body. The scent was faint but unmistakable—yours. It seemed to wrap around her, filling her senses with a comfort that only deepened the ache inside her. Her fingers curled tighter around the shirt, her grip almost possessive, as though letting go would sever her last tether to reality.

Her mind was a swirl of emotion. The warmth of your scent grounded her, but it also made her keenly aware of how much she missed you, how much she craved what she’d been denied. The ache in her chest spread downward, settling low in her belly, where it twisted and coiled into something almost unbearable. She didn’t know if the shirt soothed her or made the longing worse. All she knew was that she couldn’t stop herself.

Her lips parted slightly, a soft, shaky exhale escaping as she took another deep breath. The blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck and ears, as her thoughts spiraled. She hated how much she needed this—how much she needed you. The vulnerability stung, but she couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop herself from clinging to the one thing that made her feel closer to you.

“Natty.”

Your voice cut through the quiet like a blade, sharp and firm. Her head snapped up instantly, her wide eyes locking onto yours. The guilt hit her like a wave, and her hands jerked as though the shirt had suddenly burned her. It slipped from her fingers, falling to her lap, but the stain of her actions remained etched across her flushed features.

“I… I wasn’t—” she stammered, her voice cracking as she scrambled to her feet. Her hands fumbled at the fabric in her lap, twisting it nervously as her gaze darted to the floor. The crimson in her cheeks deepened, and her breathing turned uneven, a telltale sign of the storm raging inside her.

You didn’t move, your calm, steady presence only intensifying her discomfort. You didn’t need to say anything else. The silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She bit her lip, her shoulders slumping as she lowered her head in submission. The weight of your authority hung in the air, undeniable and absolute, until it crushed what little resolve she had left.

For the rest of the week, the cracks in her composure deepened. She lingered near you constantly, finding excuses to hover in your space. When you moved from one room to another, she followed quietly, her steps soft but deliberate. She never said much, but her presence was loud enough. When you passed her, her hand would brush against you, just lightly, as though testing your reaction. When you stood still for too long, she drifted closer, her breath hitching every time you turned in her direction.

Her need became a part of everything she did. The way her eyes flicked toward you incessantly, searching for any sign of indulgence. The subtle way her body leaned toward yours instinctively, drawn by a gravitational pull she couldn’t fight. She stopped trying to hide it—her longing was written into every motion, every glance, every trembling breath.

By the second week, it consumed her completely. Her confidence crumbled under the weight of her desperation, leaving her raw and exposed. Even her voice, when she dared to speak, carried the faintest quaver, as though each word threatened to betray her. The ache was no longer confined to moments of stillness; it was a constant presence, burning beneath her skin, coiling low in her belly, and leaving her trembling.

-----

Natty sat at home one day, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, trying to distract herself from the relentless need that had consumed her for weeks. Her body felt like a tightly coiled spring, every small movement amplifying the ache that lingered low in her belly. The sound of her phone buzzing startled her, and she glanced at the screen.

"Bedroom by the time I’m home. Naked."

The simplicity of the message made her heart race. Her fingers gripped the phone tightly as she reread the words, the weight of your command settling over her like a heavy blanket. Her breath hitched, and a nervous tremor coursed through her. She didn’t even need to think—her body moved on instinct.

She stood quickly, her hands trembling as she began to undress. Each piece of clothing she removed felt like shedding a layer of protection, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. The cool air of the house kissed her bare skin, sending a shiver up her spine. By the time she reached the bed, her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears.

Kneeling, she positioned herself carefully, her body already quivering with a mix of nervous anticipation and lingering need. She rested on all fours, her breathing uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she waited. The silence of the house felt deafening, the seconds stretching into eternity. She couldn’t help the thoughts that raced through her mind: Would this be her release? Would you finally touch her, grant her the relief she craved? Or would this be another lesson in patience, another test of her endurance?

The sound of the front door opening made her freeze. Her breath caught, her body tensing as she listened to your deliberate movements. The faint rustle of your belongings being set down sent a thrill through her, each noise heightening her anticipation. She stayed perfectly still, her hands gripping the sheets lightly, her heart threatening to leap from her chest.

When your footsteps finally approached the bedroom, she felt the weight of your presence before you even spoke. The door opened, and your gaze swept over her. She didn’t dare lift her head, but she felt the heat of your eyes on her bare skin. Her body trembled under your scrutiny, the vulnerability making her both anxious and exhilarated.

“Stand up,” your voice broke the silence, calm but commanding.

She rose immediately, though her legs wobbled slightly as she obeyed. She felt utterly exposed under your watchful eyes, her arms twitching as though to cover herself, but she stopped. Your steady gaze and the faint shake of your head froze her in place. Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers trembling as she fought the urge to shield herself.

“Bathroom,” you instructed, your tone firm and leaving no room for argument. “Stay still.”

Natty moved quickly, her bare feet making no sound as she positioned herself in the bathroom doorway. Her body was taut with nervous energy, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides as she worked to follow your command. Her breathing was already shallow, her lips parted, and her wide eyes tracked your every move.

You began to undress deliberately, unhurried, letting her watch. The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as you slid your shirt from your shoulders, revealing the defined lines of your chest. Her gaze clung to you, her lips pressing together as her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. When your hands moved to your belt, her eyes followed like a magnet, locking onto the motion with an intensity that sent a faint flush across her cheeks.

As you stepped out of your pants, she froze completely. Her gaze darted lower, landing on the growing outline beneath your boxers, and her breath caught audibly. She tried to pull her eyes away, but they kept flicking back, lingering with a desperation she could no longer hide. It was as though everything else in the room had vanished, her world narrowing to just you—your movements, your body, and the aching need she felt burning inside her.

You stepped into the shower without a word, the sound of water cascading over your skin breaking the silence. The steam began to fill the room, curling around her, but her attention never wavered. The glass doors left nothing to the imagination, and her eyes locked onto you again, trailing down your chest to your stomach, and then lower.

Her breathing grew heavier, each rise and fall of her chest more pronounced as her thighs shifted subtly. She pressed them together, a faint, instinctive movement that she clearly hoped would go unnoticed. But it didn’t. You saw every motion, every tremor that betrayed how much effort it took for her to stand still.

“Still,” you said, your voice firm but calm, cutting through the thick haze of her longing.

Her legs froze immediately, though her body trembled slightly with the strain of holding herself back. Her gaze flicked up to your face briefly, an almost guilty glance, before dropping again. It didn’t take long for her eyes to return to the same place, fixed on the growing evidence of your arousal.

The effort to control herself was evident in every line of her frame. Her hands flexed at her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling as though fighting the urge to reach out. Her lips parted again, a faint, shaky exhale escaping as her gaze remained fixed, unable to look away.

When you turned slightly, letting the water run down your back, she shifted almost imperceptibly. Her chest rose and fell quicker now, her thighs pressing together again, the motion more noticeable this time. The faintest glisten of sweat began to form on her skin, mixing with the steam around her, as though her body were reacting to a heat only she could feel.

After finishing your shower, you stepped out, wrapping a towel loosely around your waist. Her eyes followed the motion, flicking downward for just a second too long. When you reached for another towel to dry your hair, her gaze returned, locking onto the outline beneath the fabric.

Her breathing hitched audibly, and she swallowed hard, her throat working visibly. She wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore—her need radiated off her in waves, the desperation plain in the way her lips pressed together, her body trembling with restraint.

“Back to the bed,” you said, your tone steady.

She turned quickly, her body moving as though it could barely keep up with the frantic pace of her mind. Every step toward the bedroom echoed with the quiet desperation she could no longer hide. As she lay back on the bed, her movements were both eager and hesitant, her hands twitching at her sides as though fighting the urge to reach out and pull you closer. Her breathing was shallow, each inhale trembling slightly, her chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms.

When you joined her, her heart raced, the anticipation almost unbearable. Was this it? Had her obedience finally earned her a reprieve? The thought flickered through her mind like a fragile spark, and she clung to it desperately. Maybe this is his way of letting me off early, she thought. Maybe I’ve been good enough.

You didn’t speak, but the weight of your gaze on her was intoxicating. Her body reacted instinctively, her legs parting slightly as you shifted closer. When your hand started at her knee, trailing upward along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, her breath hitched audibly. Her thighs parted further, almost of their own accord, inviting your touch. Her skin quivered beneath your fingers, every nerve ending coming alive as you moved deliberately, your strokes maddeningly slow and controlled.

She bit her lip, a soft whine escaping her as her hips shifted slightly toward your hand, seeking more. Her need was evident now, radiating off her in waves, but the moment her movement betrayed her impatience, you stopped. Your eyes narrowed, and the sternness in your gaze was enough to freeze her in place.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and even.

The praise sent a visible shiver through her. Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping as her body reacted involuntarily. A faint sheen of wetness betrayed her growing arousal, glistening faintly in the dim light of the room. The ache inside her deepened, spreading like fire through her veins, and the thought of finally being allowed to release burned brighter in her mind.

Your fingers trailed closer, brushing along the edge of her folds with maddening precision. You never gave her exactly what she needed, staying just millimeters away, the teasing strokes pushing her closer to the edge without letting her fall. Her breaths grew shallow, her chest heaving as her back arched slightly off the bed.

She whimpered, the sound barely audible but filled with a desperation that was impossible to ignore. Her slickness spread, catching the light, her body leaking uncontrollably as her arousal built to a fever pitch.

And then, just as your fingers hovered over the place where her need was most concentrated, you pulled away.

The gasp that escaped her was almost a sob. Her hips jerked upward reflexively, as though her body couldn’t accept the sudden absence of your touch. Her eyes snapped open, wide and pleading, the longing in them unrestrained. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, her lips trembling as though she might beg. But the sternness in your gaze silenced whatever words she might have been about to say.

“Go to sleep,” you said, your voice calm and final.

Her heart sank, the weight of your command hitting her like a tidal wave. She stared at you for a long moment, her body frozen, her lips parting slightly as though to protest. But she caught herself, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she nodded shakily. Slowly, she sank back against the mattress, her body sinking into the sheets as though the effort to fight was too much.

You lay down beside her, the bed shifting slightly under your weight. The warmth of your body was close enough to feel but impossibly far from the relief she craved. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling in trembling rhythms as her legs shifted restlessly beneath the sheets. She pressed her thighs together, her hips rocking slightly in a futile attempt to ease the tension that burned through her like wildfire.

Her eyes fluttered closed, though she knew sleep would be impossible. Her body pulsed with frustration, every nerve ending alight with unfulfilled desire. She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin, the teasing brush of your fingers that had come so maddeningly close.

Beside her, you remained composed, your breathing calm, your presence steady and unattainable. The quiet was oppressive, the tension between you palpable as the minutes stretched into hours.

Her mind spiraled as reality sank in—this wasn’t relief. It wasn’t a reprieve. It was another lesson in control, another reminder of who held the power. And as her body burned with the ache of denial, the truth became inescapable: tonight wouldn’t bring her release. It would only deepen the longing that consumed her.

-----

The final week of November arrived, and Natty was barely holding it together. The days had grown heavier, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours as her body and mind simmered with unrelenting tension. The month-long denial had pushed her to her limits, leaving her restless and sensitive to every touch, every glance, every moment in your presence. This wasn’t just a punishment—it was a slow unraveling, and the last week felt like it might break her entirely.

By mid-afternoon, as she paced through the kitchen for the third time that day, her phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the quiet. She grabbed it quickly, her heart giving a small jolt as she saw the group chat lighting up.

“Eclipse tonight! Drinks on me. You’re coming, right?” Belle’s message was followed by a string of emojis, the energy infectious even through the screen. Natty’s gaze lingered on the words as more messages poured in.

“You better not flake again, Natty!” Julie added with a laughing emoji.

“I’m wearing heels for the first time in a year for this. Be there. No excuses!” chimed Haneul.

The idea of going out with her friends, laughing and dancing the night away, was tempting. For a brief moment, she imagined herself letting loose, the music drowning out her thoughts, her body moving freely in the dim lights of the club. It sounded perfect—exactly what she needed.

And yet, something held her back.

Her gaze lifted from the phone to the living room, where you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone with your usual calm demeanor. She watched you for a moment, her chest tightening with a strange sense of unease. The thought of leaving the house, of being away from you, felt heavier than it should have. It wasn’t fear, exactly—more like a quiet, unshakable pull to stay near you, as though the distance would only amplify the ache she already felt.

Her phone buzzed again, breaking her thoughts. “Natty, don’t make me beg! 😘 Eclipse is calling your name!” Belle was relentless, as always.

Natty paced the kitchen, her fingers tightening around her phone as her thoughts churned. Her friends wouldn’t understand. They’d tell her she was overthinking it, that a night out was exactly what she needed. But they didn’t know what she was going through. They didn’t know how the last few weeks had left her raw and vulnerable, every nerve in her body on edge. And they didn’t understand the quiet, powerful pull that kept her close to you.

Summoning her courage, she stepped into the living room. “My friends want me to go out,” she said, her voice soft and uncertain.

You looked up briefly, meeting her gaze with an easy calm. “Sure,” you replied, your tone steady. “Go if you want.”

The simplicity of your answer caught her off guard. Her heart skipped a beat, her lips parting in surprise. She had expected… something else. Guidance, hesitation, maybe even a hint of disapproval. Instead, your response was so casual, so sincere, it left her more conflicted than ever.

“You’re… okay with it?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Of course,” you said, your expression neutral. “If you want to go, you should.”

Natty blinked, caught between disbelief and confusion. Her gaze searched your face, looking for any trace of hesitation, but found none. The ease of your answer left her more conflicted than before, and a strange pang of guilt settled in her chest.

“Really? You don’t mind?” she pressed, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her persistence. “I don’t mind, Natty. It’s your decision.”

She nodded slowly, retreating a few steps to sit on the chair across from you. Her phone buzzed again, her friends filling the group chat with plans for the night. Outfits, drinks, excitement—it was all there, pulling her in. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing out a reply only to erase it again.

She glanced back at you. “You’re… really okay with me going?” she asked again, her voice even softer this time.

You met her gaze evenly. “I said I was. It’s your call, Natty.”

The finality in your words settled over her like a weight. The decision was hers—fully, completely hers—and yet the idea of leaving felt wrong. Her chest tightened, her stomach knotting with a mix of frustration and longing she couldn’t quite place.

With a deep breath, she typed: “Can’t make it, sorry.”

Her finger hovered over the send button, the decision catching in her chest for just a moment before she pressed it. The message disappeared into the chat, and a strange mix of relief and frustration flooded her.

When she looked back at you, she couldn’t help but ask one last time, “You’re really not upset?”

You glanced at her, offering a faint, reassuring smile. “Not at all,” you said simply, returning your attention to your phone.

The sincerity in your tone surprised her, and she sank back into the chair, her phone now dark in her hand. The quiet buzz of the house resumed, but her mind was still spinning. She had made the decision herself—without pressure, without guidance—and as unsettling as that was, a small part of her felt… content.

The thought of staying near you, of not letting that distance grow, settled warmly in her chest. And as she sat there, the sound of your steady breathing grounding her, she knew she’d made the choice she truly wanted.

-----

The evening had settled in, darkness blanketing the world outside as the soft glow of a table lamp cast warm light across the living room. The house was quiet, a serene contrast to the distant hum of the night’s activity beyond the walls. You sat on the couch, lazily flipping through channels, the faint murmur of the television filling the stillness. The simplicity of the moment was grounding, a calm that belied the tension that had simmered between you and Natty over the past weeks.

She lingered in the doorway, hesitant but drawn to you, her phone still clutched tightly in her hand. She hadn’t left the house since your conversation, her friends’ messages still buzzing occasionally in the background, unanswered. Finally, gathering her courage, she stepped into the room, her footsteps soft against the hardwood.

You glanced up from the remote, your eyes meeting hers. Her expression was conflicted, a mix of vulnerability and determination. “Why didn’t you go with your friends?” you asked, your tone calm but curious.

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I…” Her voice faltered for a moment before she took a deep breath. “I just… didn’t feel like going,” she said, though the truth was far more layered. Her eyes darted away, betraying the nerves she tried to suppress.

Your gaze stayed steady, unyielding, as you leaned back slightly. “That’s not an answer, Natty,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind. “Tell me the truth.”

Her shoulders stiffened for a moment before she relented, her gaze flickering back to yours. “I wanted to stay here,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a faint blush. “With you.”

The simplicity of her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. For a moment, you didn’t respond, letting the weight of her confession linger. Then, slowly, the faintest smile curved your lips, a warm, genuine expression that made her shoulders relax slightly.

“Come here,” you said, your voice steady but soft, a quiet command that carried more weight than the words alone. “Sit on my lap.”

Natty appeared almost immediately, her movements automatic, her body responding before her mind could process. She climbed onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours as she settled against you. The heat of her body radiated through her clothes, her breathing already shallow as your hands found her waist, grounding her.

Your hands didn’t linger long. They slid upward, brushing over the curve of her chest, and she gasped softly, her back arching slightly into your touch. There was no hesitation in the way you began to knead her, your fingers flexing firmly through the thin fabric of her shirt. She let out a soft whimper, her body reacting to every squeeze, her head tilting forward as though offering herself completely.

“Take it off,” you murmured, your voice low but firm.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. She discarded it to the floor, her chest now bare, rising and falling with her quickened breaths. The faint flush across her skin deepened as your eyes roamed over her, taking in every inch of her exposed form.

Your hands moved back to her now-bare chest, your palms warm against her skin as you groped her fully. She gasped again, louder this time, the sound breaking into a soft moan as your thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks of her nipples. Her hips shifted instinctively against you, the motion subtle but telling, her body betraying the growing wetness between her legs.

Your lips followed your hands, pressing softly against her neck before trailing lower. The faint scent of her skin filled your senses, sweet and intoxicating as you kissed along her collarbone. She tilted her head back, giving you full access, her body trembling as your mouth continued its slow descent.

When your lips finally closed around one of her nipples, her reaction was immediate. She let out a sharp gasp, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her back arched. You alternated between gentle licks and firmer pressure, your tongue swirling in deliberate, teasing circles. Your other hand remained on her chest, squeezing and kneading with steady precision, while your thumb flicked against the neglected peak.

Her breathing grew erratic, her soft gasps turning into moans as her head tilted forward again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whimpered. “Please…” The word was barely audible, trembling with desperation as her body pressed closer to yours.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you bit down lightly, your teeth grazing against her nipple before soothing the skin with your tongue. Her whole body jolted, her thighs clenching around your lap as another moan escaped her lips. Your free hand slid lower, gripping her hip firmly to keep her steady as her movements grew more frantic.

The wetness between her legs became impossible to ignore, the faint sound of her arousal audible as her hips shifted against you. She was trembling now, completely lost in the moment, her body responding instinctively to every touch, every kiss, every firm squeeze of your hands.

“God,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her nails raked lightly against your shoulders. “I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you murmured against her skin, your voice low and commanding. “You can.”

Your mouth returned to her chest, alternating between each peak, your tongue and teeth teasing her with perfect precision. She was leaking now, her arousal spreading across the thin fabric of her panties, soaking through to the point where you could feel the dampness against your lap.

Just as she seemed ready to tip over the edge, her hips pressing harder against you, her chest arching fully into your mouth, you pulled back.

The sudden absence of your touch left her gasping, her eyes snapping open in disbelief. Her lips parted, trembling as though she might beg, but the look in your eyes stopped her. Her body stilled, though her thighs continued to tremble, the tension coiling tighter inside her with every second of denial.

You leaned back into the couch, a faint smirk playing on your lips as you let your gaze linger on her flushed skin, the evidence of her arousal impossible to miss.

“You know what I want.” you said, your voice calm but edged with quiet authority. 

Her breath hitched audibly, her wide, hazy eyes meeting yours. There was no hesitation now. She shifted off your lap, her hands trembling slightly as they moved to your shorts. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, her lips parting as her focus shifted entirely to you.

As the fabric slid away, revealing the full length of you, Natty's breath hitched audibly. Her gaze locked on you, her wide eyes taking in every inch with unabashed admiration. No matter how many times she saw you like this, she could never fully get over it—the sheer size, the thickness, the way it was always all for her. Her tongue darted out reflexively, wetting her lips as though in anticipation, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.

The faint musk of your arousal filled the air, heady and intoxicating, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Her thighs pressed together, an unconscious response to the ache that flared inside her. When her eyes opened again, they were darker, her pupils blown wide with longing, her lips trembling slightly as she leaned closer.

Her fingers hovered hesitantly before curling around your base, the warmth of her touch sending a faint tremor through her own body. She brought her face closer, her nose brushing lightly against you as she took in your scent again, the rawness of it making her exhale shakily. It consumed her thoughts, every nerve ending alight as the need within her grew unbearable.

For a moment, she lingered there, caught in the haze of her desire, her tongue hovering just above you. Her nails bit softly into your thigh as her other hand rose to her chest, cupping the soft weight of her breast. Then, as though steeling herself, she straightened slightly, her fingers squeezing her softness as she pressed her chest together.

Tilting her head, she let a long string of spit fall onto your shaft, the warm slickness trailing down slowly. Her movements were deliberate, unhurried, each moment stretching with intent as her hands guided her breasts to encase you. The soft, pliant warmth of her skin enveloped your length, her grip firm but yielding as she began to move.

Up and down, her chest stroked along you in a smooth, rhythmic motion, the slickness making every movement glide effortlessly. Her breaths grew heavier, her lips parting as a faint sheen of sweat formed on her forehead. Glancing up, she caught your gaze, her expression a mix of eagerness and awe.

You exhaled deeply, the faintest hint of a groan escaping your lips, and the sound sent a shiver rippling through her. The reaction was electric—Natty’s pace quickened, her movements more determined as her confidence grew. She pressed her breast more firmly against you, adjusting her angle slightly, the friction amplifying the sensations with every pass of her soft skin.

Each brush of her curves against your length elicited a flicker of pleasure across your face, and the sight of it spurred her on. The faint flush that painted her cheeks deepened as her own arousal grew with each passing second. She could feel the dampness between her thighs spreading, the sticky warmth soaking her panties, making the fabric cling to her skin uncomfortably. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking relief she couldn’t allow herself, but she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t. This was for you.

Leaning lower, she brought her face closer, her warm breath ghosting across your tip. Her lips brushed against you, feather-light, a teasing touch that made her breath hitch. For a brief moment, she hovered there, as if savoring the anticipation, before parting her lips and taking the head into her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, circling in slow, deliberate movements that sent jolts of sensation through you. All the while, her chest continued its rhythmic motion, enveloping you in warmth and softness.

Her lips worked in tandem with her breasts, creating an intoxicating combination of sensations. The wet heat of her mouth, the slick pressure of her curves, the eager swirl of her tongue—it was almost overwhelming. Her pace grew more fervent, the urgency in her actions reflecting your mounting tension. She could feel your body responding, the slight tensing of your thighs beneath her hands, the subtle shift in your breathing as it became uneven.

Her own breathing quickened, her moans muffled around your shaft as her arousal reached a fever pitch. Each motion, each sound you made, fueled her further, her movements becoming bolder. She pushed herself harder, faster, the rhythm of her chest and the pressure of her lips in perfect sync. Her thighs quivered, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

You groaned deeply, the sound low and primal, vibrating through the air as your hips bucked slightly in response to her movements. Your hands gripped the couch tightly, the pleasure cresting as your breathing turned ragged. “I’m cumming,” you growled, your voice thick with urgency, each word a raw admission of the overwhelming sensation.

Natty’s eyes flicked up to you briefly, her pupils blown wide as she heard the words. A soft, needy whimper escaped her lips, her movements quickening as if she wanted to savor every moment of your release. Her arousal was palpable now, radiating off her in waves. She could feel the wetness between her thighs pooling, soaking through the thin fabric of her panties as the ache inside her reached a fever pitch.

Your body tensed, and the first thick rope of warmth hit her face, splashing across her cheeks and lips. She gasped softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation registered. Her lips parted, and her breath hitched audibly, her chest rising and falling as the heat of it spread across her skin.

The next wave followed, coating her chest in hot streaks that dripped slowly downward. The sheer amount startled her, her hands faltering momentarily as she adjusted, her fingers instinctively brushing through the mess. Her body reacted instinctively, her thighs pressing together as another involuntary wave of arousal coursed through her. The heat radiating from her own skin was unbearable, her breath shaky as she let out another quiet, trembling moan.

Her chest glistened in the dim light, streaks of your release tracing down to her stomach. The sticky warmth clung to her skin, vivid and undeniable, a testament to how much you had been saving up for her. She trembled under the weight of the moment, her lips parting as she whispered faintly, “Oh my God…” Her voice was soft, filled with a mix of awe and desperation, her gaze dropping to the glistening mess on her chest.

Her hands trembled as they moved, brushing lightly over her curves, smearing the sticky remnants across her skin. The sight only heightened the ache inside her, her thighs quivering as she shifted slightly, her soaked panties clinging to her skin. The desperate need for relief surged again, her body reacting as if the mere act of pleasing you had amplified her own longing tenfold.

You leaned back into the couch, your breathing heavy but steadying as you watched her. A faint smirk played at the corner of your lips, your eyes taking in the sight of her—kneeling before you, her chest heaving, her skin glistening with evidence of your release. She looked wrecked, raw, and utterly yours.

“Clean yourself up,” you said finally, your voice calm but carrying a quiet authority that sent another shiver down her spine.

Her gaze flicked downward, her lips parting slightly as she took in the sight of herself. Thick streaks of your release marked her chest and face, the warmth of it clinging to her skin like a brand. Her hands trembled as they moved upward, her fingertips brushing against her cheek where the first streaks had landed. She paused for a heartbeat, her breath catching in her throat as her fingers lingered.

Then, with deliberate intent, she brought her fingers to her lips. The movement was slow, almost reverent, her eyes fluttering closed as she slipped them into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around each digit, savoring the taste, rich and unmistakable. A soft, audible gulp followed as she swallowed, her breath hitching as the act only deepened the simmering heat coursing through her.

Her hands moved lower, cupping her chest, her fingers gliding over the slickness streaked across her skin. The warmth was still there, a visceral reminder of your dominance. She leaned forward slightly, her breath shallow and uneven as she began to clean herself. Her fingers gathered the remnants, smearing it slightly before bringing it to her lips again. Her movements were unhurried, each touch deliberate, each taste sending a shiver down her spine.

She shifted slightly, lifting one breast toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out, tentative at first, lapping at the streaks she couldn’t reach with her fingers. Her lips closed around the soft curve, sucking gently as she worked to clean every inch of her skin. Her breaths were audible now, short and trembling, her chest heaving as she moved to the other side.

The wet sounds of her tongue and lips filled the room, mingling with the faint rustle of her shifting body. She was methodical, thorough, her cheeks flushed deeper with every motion. The room seemed smaller, hotter, the air thick with the lingering scent of arousal. The tension between you remained palpable, her body trembling with unspent need even as she finished her task.

When she finally straightened, her lips glistened faintly, and her chest was free of the sticky evidence of your climax. Yet the dampness clinging to her inner thighs betrayed her state. The act of cleaning herself had only deepened the ache inside her, the heat between her legs an all-consuming pulse that refused to be ignored.

Her wide eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly, filled with a mix of uncertainty and raw desire, before dropping again. She seemed unable to hold your gaze for long, the intensity too much to bear. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers twisting together as her breaths remained shallow, her body visibly trembling with need.

She stayed kneeling before you, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only motion. The memory of your pleasure was fresh on her tongue, the weight of your control pressing down on her, and the unrelenting ache inside her burned hotter than ever. Every second in your presence made it harder to endure, the tension in her body coiling tighter, her submission deepening with every unspoken command.

-----

The final days of her punishment dragged on like an endless stretch of time, every moment heavy with unspoken tension. The stillness between you was almost oppressive, each day blurring into the next as the weight of her denial bore down on her. This was the longest Natty had ever gone without release, and it showed in every aspect of her demeanor. Her once-bright spark had dimmed, replaced by a quiet desperation that lingered in her every move.

The ache inside her had become unbearable, growing from a subtle pulse to an all-encompassing fire that clouded her thoughts. Every touch she remembered, every fleeting moment of closeness, replayed in her mind, driving her mad with longing. Even the faintest brush of your presence—a simple passing glance, the sound of your footsteps—sent a shiver down her spine, her body reacting instinctively despite her attempts to suppress it.

You, as always, maintained your calm and composed demeanor. There was no teasing, no deliberate provocation—just an air of quiet control that seemed to magnify her need. The unrelenting steadiness of your presence was both a source of comfort and torment. You gave her no indication of when her punishment might end, leaving her to stew in the tension, her mind spiraling with thoughts she couldn’t escape.

She couldn’t help herself; she gravitated toward you like a moth drawn to a flame. Wherever you went, she found an excuse to be nearby. She lingered in doorways, her wide eyes fixed on you as if waiting for permission to come closer. When you stood in the kitchen, her presence was a constant shadow, her movements soft and tentative as though afraid to disturb the fragile equilibrium.

One evening, the weight of it all seemed to crash over her. You were preparing dinner, your movements calm and deliberate as the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air. She knelt between your legs, her hands resting lightly on your thighs, her head tilted upward as she gazed at you. The tension in her body was palpable, every muscle tight as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will.

Her wide eyes locked on yours, filled with an unspoken plea that words couldn’t capture. She didn’t dare speak, but the faint parting of her lips, the quick, uneven rise and fall of her chest, and the way her thighs pressed together betrayed the depth of her need. Her hands trembled slightly, her fingers brushing the fabric of your pants as though drawn by an invisible force.

She didn’t move, didn’t dare break the silence, but her gaze flicked downward for a fleeting moment. Her lips parted just slightly, her breathing shallow as her eyes darted back up to meet yours. Her desperation was written into every movement, her body quivering with the effort of staying still.

You glanced down at her, your calm and deliberate movements uninterrupted. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a subtle acknowledgment of her state. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice low and steady. “You can use your mouth.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, she seemed frozen, her body stiff as the words sank in. Then, her expression shifted, gratitude flooding her features as she whispered, “Really?” Her voice was shaky, as if she didn’t trust her own ears, her lips trembling as she waited for confirmation.

You nodded, giving her permission. “Go ahead.”

Her response was immediate, eager, as though this was the reprieve she had been desperately waiting for. Leaning forward, her hands trembled slightly as they moved to your waistband, carefully freeing you. As your length was revealed, her breath hitched audibly, her lips parting as her gaze fixated on you. Her eyes flickered with a mix of awe and raw hunger, the sight of you sending a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her.

She paused for a moment, her face hovering close. The faint musk of your arousal filled her senses, and she inhaled deeply, her thighs pressing together as a shiver rippled through her. The scent alone seemed to heighten the ache inside her, leaving her trembling with need.

Finally, she leaned in, her lips wrapping around you with deliberate care. Her mouth was warm and soft, her tongue swirling in practiced, eager motions. Her hands braced against your thighs, steadying herself as she began to work. Every movement was filled with purpose, her lips and tongue crafting a rhythm that sent jolts of pleasure through you.

Her motions were a mixture of desperation and precision. She wasn’t just focused on bringing you pleasure—she clung to the act itself, as though the act of pleasing you might somehow soothe her own unrelenting need. Her moans vibrated against you, soft and involuntary, her arousal building with each sound you made in response.

A deep groan escaped your lips, and the sound spurred her on. Her pace quickened, her confidence growing as she adjusted to the rhythm she knew would elicit the strongest response. Her cheeks hollowed with each stroke, her tongue working fervently as her lips slid along your length. The way her eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with anticipation and longing, only added to the intensity.

Then, without pausing, she shifted lower. Her tongue trailed down to your base, her warm breath ghosting over your skin as she carefully took one of your balls into her mouth, sucking gently. The softness of her lips, combined with the light flicks of her tongue, sent a shiver through you. Her hands stayed busy, one stroking your length in a steady rhythm, the other resting on your thigh for balance.

“Just like that,” you murmured, your voice deep and husky, the words sending a faint flush to her cheeks.

Encouraged, she moved to the other side, giving equal attention, her tongue drawing slow, teasing circles before her lips closed around you. Her strokes on your shaft quickened slightly, her fingers curling tighter as she worked both areas with practiced care. The combination of her warm mouth and eager hands created an overwhelming sensation, pulling low groans from your chest.

Her breaths came heavier now, her arousal bleeding into her movements. The slickness of her fingers against your length was steady and deliberate, the wet sound of her efforts filling the quiet room. Her thighs shifted against the floor, her own body reacting instinctively to the act of pleasing you.

After a time, she released you from her mouth with a soft pop, her tongue trailing back up your length, leaving a wet path in her wake. She returned to your shaft, her lips wrapping around you again as though she couldn’t stay away. She took you deeper this time, her tongue pressed firmly against the underside as she bobbed her head, her hands bracing against your thighs to steady herself. Each motion was fluid, precise, and full of intent.

“Look at you,” you said, your voice low and strained. “So eager. So good with that mouth.”

Her pace quickened at your words, her lips sliding up and down as her tongue swirled over your sensitive tip. The vibrations of her soft moans were almost too much, and you groaned deeply, the sound spurring her on further. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter as she adjusted her rhythm, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

You felt the heat rising, the sensation building to an unbearable peak. “I’m close,” you growled, your voice strained as you placed a firm hand on the back of her head.

She took your words as a command, her efforts becoming almost frantic, her mouth enveloping you deeper as her tongue worked with renewed vigor. The vibrations of her soft moans drove you over the edge. As you climaxed, your hand pressed gently but firmly on the back of her head, ensuring there was no space between you.

The first surge of your release hit the back of her throat directly, her eyes widening as she instinctively swallowed. The warmth and thickness filled her mouth entirely, her lips sealing around you as she took everything you gave her. Each pump sent another rush straight to the back of her throat, leaving no room for travel, her swallowing keeping perfect pace with your release.

Her body trembled beneath you, her own arousal spiking as she felt every pulse of your climax. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, her nails digging in slightly as she fought to keep herself steady. The act of taking you so completely only amplified her own need, the ache inside her growing unbearable.

When the last wave subsided, she lingered, her tongue moving gently against you as if savoring every moment. Slowly, she pulled back, her lips leaving you with a soft, deliberate motion. She gasped softly, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her face flushed and glistening.

Her lips were swollen, her gaze hazy as she looked up at you, the taste of you still on her tongue. Her hands fell to her lap, trembling as her thighs pressed together tightly, the evidence of her arousal undeniable.

Her gaze flicked downward, taking in the sight of your length slick from her efforts and the faint mess left on her lips. Her thighs pressed together tightly, her need still painfully unresolved. She had thought this would help her, that focusing on your pleasure would somehow soothe the ache building inside her. But she was so wrong.

The act of bringing you to release, of hearing your groans and feeling your tension snap, had only sharpened her own longing. The heat inside her was unbearable, the ache now all-consuming. Her body trembled as her lips tingled with the memory of you, the lingering taste of your release on her tongue making her stomach twist with need.

Sitting back on her heels, her hands trembling slightly, she dared to glance back up at you, searching for something—permission, relief, anything. But your calm, steady gaze only reminded her of the boundaries you’d set. Her stomach tightened as the realization settled over her: she was still denied. Nothing had changed. If anything, the fire inside her burned hotter.

Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. She remained kneeling, her chest heaving softly, every nerve in her body alight with unspent desire. Her thighs clenched tighter, but it was no use—the longing inside her wasn’t going anywhere. It had only grown.

-----

The tension in the house reached its peak on the second-to-last evening, the air so heavy it felt alive. The soft glow of the television flickered across the room, its muted sound blending with the quiet hum of the house. You sat on the couch, leaning back comfortably, your posture calm and steady despite the storm of emotions swirling between you and Natty.

She lingered nearby, her presence hesitant but drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of indecision, she approached. Without a word, she lay across your lap, her head resting on your thigh as she curled into herself slightly. The tension in her body was palpable, her breathing shallow and uneven as though the simple act of being close to you was too much.

Your hand moved to her hair instinctively, your fingers threading through the soft strands in slow, deliberate strokes. The touch was gentle but firm, grounding her even as her thoughts spiraled. She exhaled shakily, her chest rising and falling against your lap in uneven rhythm. For a brief moment, she let herself sink into the comfort of your touch, her eyes fluttering shut as the steady motion soothed her frayed nerves.

But the ache inside her didn’t subside—it only grew sharper. Her thighs shifted restlessly, rubbing together as though seeking some kind of relief. The heat in her body was unbearable, the steady press of need building into a relentless thrum that clouded her thoughts. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the whimper rising in her throat, but it was a futile effort. Every stroke of your fingers through her hair, every subtle shift of your body beneath hers, only added fuel to the fire.

Her hands curled into loose fists, her nails digging lightly into her palms as she struggled to hold herself together. But it wasn’t enough. The weight of your control, the quiet calm you exuded, drove her to the brink. Finally, she shifted, her body trembling slightly as she propped herself up, turning to straddle your lap instead.

Her thighs pressed into yours as she settled, her hands clutching your chest for balance. Her head bowed for a moment, her breath hitching audibly as she fought to steady herself. When she finally looked up, her eyes met yours, wide and pleading, heavy with unspoken need. Her gaze dropped almost immediately, lingering on your waist, her lips parting slightly as though drawn by a magnetic force.

For a moment, she said nothing, her body frozen as she stewed in the unbearable tension coursing through her. Her hands tightened their grip on your shirt, her fingers trembling as the storm inside her reached a breaking point.

“You’re almost there,” you said finally, your voice calm but deliberate. The words sliced through the silence like a blade, steady and unrelenting.

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes locking onto yours. Her lips quivered, her body trembling against you as though the weight of your gaze alone might shatter her. “I…” she stammered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how much longer I can—” She cut herself off with a soft sob, her hands curling tighter into the fabric of your shirt. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just… I need you.”

Her voice cracked, and her hips shifted slightly as though searching for even the faintest relief. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her desperation spilling out in frantic, unfiltered words. “I’ll never lie again. I’ll be better—I promise. Just, please…”

You watched her unravel in your lap, the composure she clung to crumbling entirely. Your hand moved to her hair again, threading your fingers through it as you guided her forehead to rest against yours. “Shhh,” you murmured softly, your voice calm and steady. “You’re so close, Natty. Just a little longer.”

Her sobs quieted slightly, though her body still trembled against you. “I’m trying,” she whimpered, her voice breaking with every word. “I’m really trying, but it’s too much. Please… just this once…”

Her thighs trembled as she pressed herself closer, her body seeking yours like it was the only thing grounding her. She let out another soft sob, burying her face in your shoulder as her hands clutched desperately at your shirt.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, the softness of the gesture making her shiver. “My sweet,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. “You’re doing so well.”

The praise sent a shudder through her, and she clung to you tighter, her cries softening as she tried to steady herself. “I’ll be good,” she whispered brokenly. “I swear, I’ll do anything. I just—”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, your lips brushing against her cheek in a gentle kiss. “I know, I know it’s hard. But you can do this. Just hold on for me.”

Her shoulders shook as she nodded faintly, her sobs quieting further. “Okay,” she whispered shakily, her voice barely audible. She stayed there, sinking deeper into your embrace, letting your steady presence anchor her even as the ache inside her burned hotter with every second.

Your hand continued to stroke her hair, the motion slow and deliberate, a constant reassurance. Her body trembled against you, the heat radiating from her a tangible reminder of the control you still held. Despite the overwhelming need consuming her, she stayed, her trust in you unwavering as she endured the storm.

-----

Now finally the last day of the month has arrived.  Natty woke with a feeling she had never experienced before. Her body trembled as she stretched, but instead of relief, she felt an overwhelming tension in every muscle. A deep, relentless ache settled low in her belly, heavier and sharper than before, as though her body itself was protesting the month-long denial. It wasn’t just an ache—it was an all-encompassing sensation that left her feeling sick and shaky, her stomach tight and twisted. Every nerve felt raw, on edge, and her hypersensitivity made her skin prickle even under the lightest touch of the sheets.

She sat up slowly, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress as her head spun slightly. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, and she let out a soft, shaky breath, the tension inside her almost unbearable. Her stomach ached, a dull, throbbing reminder of how long she’d gone without release. It felt like an emptiness and a fullness at the same time, a contradiction that only heightened her frustration. The presence of the plug, which had remained snug all night, only amplified her torment. She could feel it with every small shift of her body—a teasing, maddening fullness that made her hyper aware of herself.

When she finally stood, her legs felt weak, her movements unsteady. Every step sent a faint jolt through her, the plug pressing deeper with even the slightest motion. It was as if her entire body had become a live wire, sparking with every touch, every shift, every breath. She shivered as she made her way out of the bedroom, her hands clutching the fabric of her oversized shirt as though grounding herself against the storm of sensations.

When she stepped into the living room, the light spilling softly through the windows, she found you lounging on the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. You glanced up at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your gaze swept over her. “Come here,” you said simply, patting your lap. “Lie down.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she hesitated for only a second before obeying. She settled across your lap, her breaths quickening as your hands began to roam along her back, the pressure firm but soothing. Your touch was unhurried, tracing the curve of her spine, lingering lower until your fingers brushed against the waistband of her shorts. Without a word, you hooked your thumbs into the fabric and pulled them down, the cool air making her shiver as it hit her exposed skin.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she felt your hand glide over her bare cheeks, the warmth of your palm contrasting against the coolness of the air. Her body betrayed her, a faint glisten of arousal catching the light. You chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing. “Dripping already?” you murmured, giving one cheek a firm squeeze. “You’re really something, Natty.”

Her breath hitched, her body quivering as she buried her face in her arms. Before she could respond, she felt something cool and slick press against her other entrance. Her muscles tensed instinctively, her head snapping up as she stammered, “Wait, what are you—?”

“Shh,” you murmured, your voice calm but commanding as you pressed the small plug in slowly. Her breath hitched audibly, her body jerking forward as the sensation hit her all at once. A soft yelp escaped her lips, her walls clenching reflexively as her thighs trembled.

“Hold it,” you instructed firmly, your hand resting lightly on her back. “You’ll keep it there all day.”

“I—I don’t think I can,” she stammered, her face burning with embarrassment and arousal.

“You can,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument. “And you will.”

She whimpered softly, her breaths uneven as she adjusted to the sensation. The fullness teased her relentlessly, and every small movement made her hyper aware of its presence. The ache between her legs grew sharper, more insistent, as if her body was begging for relief that wouldn’t come. Even standing felt like a challenge; the plug shifted slightly with each step, sending ripples of sensation through her core.

The day had barely begun, and yet she already felt as though she was teetering on the edge. The plug amplified everything—every touch, every brush of fabric, every faint movement. She couldn’t escape it, and with every moment that passed, the ache inside her burned hotter, making her tremble with the effort of holding herself together. Midnight felt impossibly far away.

You didn’t let her rest today—not for a single moment. The relentless presence of the plug became a constant torment, every shift of her body driving the fullness deeper, teasing her in ways she couldn’t escape. Throughout the day, you made her bend over to “check” that it was still in place, a smug reminder of your control. Each time, your hand slid along her folds, your fingers brushing lightly against her slick, swollen skin. The wetness clung to you, undeniable evidence of her unrelenting arousal.

Her breaths came in sharp gasps during these moments, her body trembling as she struggled to remain still. The faintest touch sent shivers down her spine, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. She whimpered softly, the sound involuntary, her thighs quivering as the effort of holding herself together grew increasingly futile.

“You’re holding up well,” you teased after one such inspection, your fingers hovering just close enough to make her whimper again. The sound was high and needy, betraying her desperation. “Though it looks like you’re ready to explode already.”

Her cheeks burned a deep crimson, and she turned her face away, unable to meet your amused gaze. Her thighs pressed tightly together, her body shuddering as she struggled to steady her breathing. The plug teased her with every movement, amplifying her sensitivity to unbearable levels, and the ache between her legs became an all-consuming pulse.

But you weren’t done. Your teasing was deliberate and constant, turning the mundane moments of her day into unrelenting torment. A casual grope of her chest as she walked past made her gasp, her nipples hardening under your touch as a jolt of sensation shot through her. Your hand would slide up her shirt without warning, your fingers brushing against her sensitive peaks, leaving her trembling and breathless.

When she bent down to retrieve something, you delivered sharp smacks to her exposed cheeks, the sound echoing through the room as her hips jolted forward. Each time, the plug shifted slightly, pressing deeper inside her, and she let out a strangled moan, her hands gripping whatever surface was nearest for support.

At one point, while she was bent over cleaning the counter, you delivered a particularly firm smack. The force sent the plug pushing deeper, and the sudden wave of sensation made her cry out softly. Her hands clutched the countertop, her knuckles white as her body trembled uncontrollably. Her breaths came in short, uneven bursts, and her legs quaked as she tried—and failed—to regain her composure.

“Careful,” you murmured, leaning close to her ear. Your voice was laced with amusement, dripping with controlled authority. “I wouldn’t want you to lose control now.”

She shuddered, her head dipping as another soft whimper escaped her lips. Her body burned with arousal, her skin tingling as though every nerve ending had come alive. Every teasing touch, every lingering squeeze of your hand left her trembling, her body responding instantly as though begging for more. She was aware of everything—the brush of fabric against her sensitive skin, the cool air that contrasted with the heat radiating from her core, the relentless presence of the plug that made every movement feel like a deliberate act of torment.

By mid-afternoon, she was a trembling mess. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, her body quaking as she navigated the relentless teasing and the ache that had only grown sharper, hotter, with every passing moment. The fullness of the plug heightened her sensitivity, making even the smallest movements feel exaggerated. A shift of her hips, a brush of her thighs—each one sent jolts of need spiraling through her, leaving her gasping and desperate.

Her arousal radiated off her in waves, the heat between her legs becoming an all-consuming ache. It seeped into every part of her, making her feel like she was on the verge of breaking. Every glance from you, every calculated touch, only made it worse. She could barely think about anything else, her mind entirely consumed by the promise of relief she couldn’t yet have.

The promise of midnight was the only thing grounding her, a beacon at the end of her torment. But as the minutes dragged on and each moment stretched longer than the last, she began to wonder just how much more she could take. The hours ahead loomed like an eternity, and her body burned with the need to finally be free.

-----

Once the final moments were minutes away, Natty was a trembling wreck. She couldn’t muster excitement, couldn’t even speak. The month-long denial had consumed her entirely, leaving her a quivering, needy mess. Every step she took sent faint jolts through her hypersensitive body, her thighs slick with a constant reminder of her arousal. Her mind swirled with one singular thought—relief. Midnight was so close, yet it felt infinitely far away.

You watched her silently as she hovered near you, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The air between you was electric, charged with her desperation and your unshakable calm. Finally, you broke the silence.

“Bedroom,” you said, your voice calm but commanding. “Now.”

She didn’t hesitate. Her trembling hands reached for the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head in one fluid motion. Her shorts followed, discarded in a heap on the floor, leaving her completely bare before you. There was no need to ask—her eagerness, her desperation, was written across her flushed cheeks and trembling limbs.

Natty lay back on the bed, her legs slightly parted, her body trembling uncontrollably. Every breath she took was shallow and uneven, her body strung tight with anticipation and desperation. Her wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours as you retrieved the wand vibrator from the nightstand, its weight in your hand a promise of what was to come.

“You’ve waited this long,” you murmured, sitting beside her. Your voice was calm, soothing, but carried an unyielding authority. “But understand this—if you cum before midnight, it’s another month.”

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening as the weight of your words sank in. A shudder passed through her, and her lips parted as though to protest, but no sound came. The mere thought of another month was impossible to comprehend. She didn’t even know how she had survived this one. Her stomach churned, and a small, desperate whimper escaped her lips.

“Do you understand, Natty?” you asked, your voice steady but firm.

She nodded quickly, tears welling in her eyes. “Y-yes… I understand.” Her voice cracked, the fear and arousal mingling into a trembling whisper.

With a faint smirk, you picked up the vibrator, letting it press firmly against her swollen clit without turning it on. The weight alone was enough to make her react—a sharp intake of breath followed by a faint whimper as her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more. The glistening slickness between her legs caught the dim light, pooling against the toy and betraying just how close she was to the edge already.

You watched her closely, your calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tremors racking her body. “So needy,” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate. “Leaking onto the sheets, and I haven’t even turned it on.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her thighs trembling as she tried to press them together only to fail against your positioning. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she fought the overwhelming tension building inside her. “P-please,” she stammered, her voice trembling and barely audible.

“Not yet,” you said, your tone firm but calm. Your gaze flicked briefly to the clock. “It’s not time.”

Her body jerked slightly at the reminder, her thighs quivering as the pressure from the vibrator sent faint pulses of sensation through her. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one feeling like an eternity as she teetered on the precipice. Her breaths grew more frantic, her chest rising and falling with each shallow gasp, her entire body betraying her desperate need.

Without warning, your free hand moved downward, your fingers brushing lightly over the curve of her ass. You hooked a finger under the base of the plug, tugging gently. The sensation elicited a sharp cry from her, her hips bucking against the pressure. Her arousal spilled out even more, a slick warmth pooling between her thighs and glistening against her skin.

Her moans turned into incoherent whimpers as her body trembled violently. “Oh God—” she gasped, her voice cracking as the mix of sensations overwhelmed her.

You brought your finger to the slick mess, scooping some onto your fingertip. With deliberate slowness, you raised it to your mouth, tasting her arousal. The faint hum of approval you let out sent another shiver through her. “So sweet,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. “And all mine.”

Her body jerked again, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands clawed desperately at the sheets. The combination of sensations—the press of the vibrator, the tug on the plug, and your deliberate tasting of her—pushed her to the very edge.

Finally, the clock hit 11:59. Without a word, you turned the vibrator on, its low hum filling the room.

The moment the vibrator sprang to life, Natty’s body reacted as if it had been struck by lightning. A high-pitched yelp escaped her lips, her hips jerking against the relentless vibration. Tears filled her eyes as she clutched the sheets, her body writhing uncontrollably, her thighs trembling with effort. The first wave of sensation crashed over her, and she wasn’t ready for the intensity. She quivered like a bowstring pulled too tight, every muscle taut, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe.

“Hold on,” you commanded, your tone calm but firm.

Her sobs came softly at first, as if she were trying to hold them back, but the effort only made them more pitiful. Her lips parted, trembling, and a faint whimper escaped. Her hands clutched the sheets tightly, her nails digging into the fabric as her entire body quaked beneath the relentless assault of the vibrations.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, but the relentless pressure of the toy against her swollen clit made every movement a torment. Her hips shifted involuntarily, as though her body were trying to escape and chase the sensation at the same time. Her skin glistened with sweat, her face flushed a deep crimson as tears streaked her cheeks. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling as she struggled against the unbearable tension coiling inside her.

You leaned closer, your hand resting gently on her abdomen, your voice a steady anchor. “You’ve made it this far, Natty,” you murmured, your tone soft but resolute. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Her eyes widened as another wave of sensation crashed over her, her sobs growing louder and more frantic. Her body arched off the bed, the vibrations driving her closer to the edge. “I—” she stammered, her voice cracking as she fought to find her words. “I don’t think I can—I can’t do it! I need to cum!”

“A little more, baby,” you replied firmly, your gaze locking onto hers. “Trust me, you can do this.”

Her body convulsed, her hips grinding helplessly against the unyielding vibrator. The wet sounds of her arousal filled the room, mingling with her desperate cries. Her slickness coated the toy, betraying the depth of her need. She whimpered again, shaking her head as tears flowed freely, her thighs trembling violently.

Finally, you extended your hand to her. “Here,” you said softly, offering it like a lifeline. “Hold on to me.”

Her trembling fingers latched onto yours with surprising strength, gripping as though your hand were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her nails bit into your skin, but you didn’t flinch, letting her anchor herself in the gesture. “You’re halfway there,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, an oasis of calm amid her chaos.

Her breaths came in ragged bursts, her sobs hitching with every sharp inhale as her body quaked uncontrollably. She clung to your hand as if it were the only solid thing in a world of overwhelming sensation. Her lips moved, trying to form words, but all that escaped were soft, broken whimpers, desperate and raw. The tension in her body was unbearable, her chest heaving as her thighs quaked, every nerve ending alive with unbearable intensity.

You glanced at the clock, your own breath steady as the final stretch approached. Her body tensed further, every muscle pulled taut as though she were a bowstring ready to snap.

“Ten,” you began, your voice calm and deliberate, a grounding presence in her storm.

Natty gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening as the vibrations pushed her closer to the edge. Her nails dug deeper into your hand, her legs trembling as she whimpered softly.

“Nine,” you continued, your eyes locked on her.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. Her lips trembled as a desperate whimper escaped her throat. “It’s too much,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The relentless hum of the vibrator against her clit made her legs quiver uncontrollably.

“Eight.”

Her back arched, her body bucking involuntarily as she let out a strangled cry. “I—I can’t—I can’t!” she sobbed, her tears streaking down her flushed cheeks.

“You’re stronger than this, Natty,” you said calmly, your voice steady and grounding as you brushed her hair back from her sweat-dampened forehead. “You’ve made it this far.”

“Seven.”

Her breathing turned ragged, each gasp shallow and desperate as her hips jerked against the unyielding pressure. The wetness between her legs spread further, the slick sounds of her arousal filling the room. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please—I can’t hold it!”

“Six.”

Her nails raked against your hand, her grip tightening as though holding you was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her sobs grew louder, raw and broken as her body writhed beneath the unrelenting assault. Her thighs quivered violently, every muscle trembling with tension.

“Five.”

She let out a guttural moan, her hips grinding involuntarily against the vibrator. “I’m trying—I swear, I’m trying!” she cried, her voice thick with desperation. Her tears flowed freely now, her face flushed and damp as she clung to your hand with all her strength.

“Four.”

Her breath hitched, each exhale turning into a ragged sob as she whimpered, “I can’t do this! I can’t—I’m going to—” Her hips bucked harder, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as her body convulsed against the sheets.

“Three.”

You leaned closer, your breath brushing warmly against her ear. “You’re so close, Natty,” you murmured softly. “Don’t give up now.”

Her lips parted as if to plead, but the only sound that escaped was a desperate, high-pitched whimper. Her chest heaved as her body fought against the overwhelming pleasure, her tears soaking into the pillow beneath her head.

“Two.”

Her entire frame was trembling violently now, her nails digging into your hand as her body teetered on the brink. “Please,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please, I need to—I can’t stop it—I need to—”

“Hold on,” you commanded, your voice calm but firm, grounding her with the unshakable authority in your tone.

“One.”

Your voice remained steady as you carefully balanced the vibrator against her swollen clit, the relentless hum sending vibrations coursing through her. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled your hands away, leaving the toy perfectly poised against her trembling body. At first, she didn’t even notice your absence—her mind was fogged with overwhelming need, her focus entirely consumed by the mounting pressure tearing through her.

“Now, Natty,” you murmured softly, your tone calm yet commanding, slicing through the haze clouding her mind.

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, just as your hands moved to her chest. Your fingers found her sensitive nipples, pinching them lightly before tugging them upward with deliberate precision. The sharp pull elicited a desperate cry from her lips, her hips bucking instinctively against the vibrator. The motion was reflexive, her body torn between seeking relief from the intensity and craving even more of it.

The sensations converged like a tidal wave—the relentless vibrations teasing her folds, the sharp tug on her swollen nipples, and the persistent fullness of the plug nestled deep inside her, pressing in with every trembling movement. Together, they built into an unrelenting storm of pleasure, crashing through her body and leaving no room for control.

Her body stiffened like a bowstring drawn tight, quivering for a suspended second before breaking. And then she shattered. Her back arched violently off the bed, the tendons in her neck straining as her climax slammed into her with unrelenting force. A scream tore from her throat, raw and guttural, reverberating through the room like a primal release.

 “Ahhh! F-FUCK!”, her voice cracking under the weight of the pleasure ripping through her. 

Natty’s legs snapped shut involuntarily, trapping the vibrator tightly between her trembling thighs. The added pressure amplified the vibrations to an unbearable intensity, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her already over-sensitized body. Her back arched off the bed, her abs contracting so hard it felt like they might cramp, every muscle in her body taut as a bowstring. 

The fullness of the plug in her ass only heightened everything, pressing deeper with every spasm of her climax. It felt like her body was tearing apart and coming together simultaneously, every nerve ending alight with sensations so intense they blurred the line between pleasure and pain. She writhed uncontrollably, her head pressing back into the mattress as her trembling hands clawed at the sheets. Her fingers twisted the fabric into fists, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white, desperate for something—anything—to anchor her in the storm raging through her.

“Oh my God—AGH! FUCK, FUCK!” she wailed, her voice breaking into fractured sobs as wave after wave of climax overwhelmed her. Her thighs quivered violently, her entire lower half slick with arousal as the glistening evidence of her release pooled beneath her. The wet, lewd sounds of her trembling movements only added to the intensity, driving her further into a pleasure so consuming it left her mind blank and incoherent.

Her abs cramped again, the sharp ache blending into the relentless throbbing of her core. Every pulse of her body felt magnified a hundredfold. Her nipples, still under the firm grip of your fingers, sent jolts of electric pleasure-pain through her chest with every tug and pinch. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her sobs turning into hiccupping gasps as she struggled to breathe through the overwhelming sensation.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room fading into a haze of white-hot pleasure. Her thoughts dissolved entirely, her mind unable to focus on anything but the torrent of ecstasy ripping through her. Another scream tore from her throat as her hips bucked helplessly, her body caught in an unrelenting rhythm that wasn’t hers to control.

Her legs trembled violently, the muscles quaking beneath the strain of holding the vibrator in place. Her toes curled and uncurled, the tension radiating from her core to every extremity. She felt utterly consumed, her body reacting on instinct, every motion drawing out the climax until it seemed endless.

Finally, the vibrations began to ease, but her body didn’t stop. The aftershocks rippled through her, smaller waves of pleasure making her twitch uncontrollably. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her breaths ragged and uneven. Her limbs felt heavy, trembling faintly as they fell limply to her sides.

Tears continued to streak down her face, her cheeks stained with the evidence of her release. Her entire body glistened with sweat, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light of the room. Even as her climax began to fade, the plug’s fullness sent tiny, lingering jolts of pleasure radiating outward, leaving her hypersensitive and raw.

You leaned forward, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intensity she had just endured. Her glassy eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy, a soft moan escaping her lips as her gaze found yours. The exhaustion in her face was mingled with something else—a quiet, unspoken gratitude.

“You did it, Natty. You’re incredible,” you murmured softly, your voice a warm balm as you brushed a strand of damp hair away from her flushed face. The praise seemed to wrap around her like a blanket, soothing her trembling form as she melted into the mattress, her body finally surrendering to the sweet, blissful exhaustion.

A shuddering breath escaped her lips, her chest heaving with the effort of coming down from the most intense climax of her life. “Thank you…” she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking under the weight of her relief. Her words were barely audible, trembling with emotion, as her body sank deeper into the bed. She looked utterly wrecked—her cheeks damp with tears, her thighs still quivering faintly, her entire form radiating the afterglow of release.

You sat beside her, your touch gentle as your hand trailed down her arm, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on her damp skin. She flinched slightly, her body still hyper-sensitive, but she didn’t pull away. For the first time in weeks, the relentless ache inside her was gone, replaced by a deep, blissful emptiness. Her head lolled to the side, her eyelids fluttering as she floated in the haze of her release. It was a quiet, almost dreamlike state, her mind too overwhelmed to process anything beyond the moment.

For a time, she simply lay there, her breaths coming in slow, ragged bursts. Her body felt weightless, untethered, her thoughts drifting aimlessly as she savored the sweet relief coursing through her. It was everything she had been waiting for—everything she thought she needed.

But as the haze began to lift, her breaths steadied, and a flicker of awareness returned to her gaze. Her glassy eyes blinked open, meeting yours with a dazed vulnerability. The raw emotion in her expression was undeniable—gratitude, relief, and something else, something that lingered in the shadows of her desire.

At first, she didn’t move, her lips parting slightly as though to speak, but no words came. The stillness between you stretched, heavy and charged, until the quiet became almost unbearable.

Then, she inhaled sharply, her voice soft and trembling. “I… I need more.” you felt the tension between you shift, her words a soft, desperate confession that hung heavy in the air.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” you teased, setting the vibrator aside as you leaned closer. The smirk on your lips held no malice, only satisfaction. Her wide, pleading eyes followed your every move as you began to undress. Each button you loosened, each piece of fabric you shed, only heightened her anticipation. Her breaths came faster, her chest rising and falling as she watched your body come into view, her gaze lingering with raw hunger.

Climbing onto the bed, you positioned yourself between her trembling thighs. She spread her legs instinctively, her body quaking beneath you, her slick folds glistening with arousal as she waited for you to fill her. You lined yourself up with her entrance, pausing just long enough to meet her gaze. The raw desperation in her eyes was enough to send a thrill down your spine.

As you pressed into her, the sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a cry, her hypersensitive body reacting instantly. The tight, wet heat of her clamped around you, her back arching off the bed as she cried out. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her hands clutching you as though you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

“You waited so well,” you murmured against her ear, your voice thick with approval as your hips began to move with deliberate force. “Now, you get all of me.”

Her sobbing moans filled the room, each thrust drawing a broken, needy sound from her lips. She writhed beneath you, her body impossibly responsive to every motion. Your hands moved to her chest, kneading her soft, full breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples with teasing strokes. Each touch sent a jolt through her, her breath hitching sharply as her hips bucked instinctively to meet you. Her thighs quivered on either side of you, trembling with the strain of holding back the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

Leaning down, your mouth found one of her nipples, tugging it gently between your lips. You sucked softly at first, your tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before you increased the pressure, tugging firmly enough to draw a cry from her throat. Her back arched off the bed, her chest pressing further into your touch as her hands clutched desperately at your shoulders.

The plug inside her added another layer of sensation, shifting slightly with each of your movements. The fullness it brought combined with the relentless drive of your thrusts, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her walls fluttered around you, a desperate clench that pulled you deeper as she gasped for air.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmured against her skin, your lips brushing against her nipple as your hands continued to explore her soft curves. “God, I love your tits. Made for me to touch, to taste.”

Your teeth grazed her nipple, tugging lightly before sucking hard enough to make her cry out. “Look at how they react for me,” you growled, your voice thick with need as you pinched the neglected peak between your fingers. “So soft, so full. They’re mine, Natty. All mine.”

Her breath hitched at your words, her thighs trembling as her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. “They’re yours,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “All yours.”

You smirked against her skin, your tongue tracing lazy circles around her sensitive peak before moving to the other. “That’s right,” you growled, your tone possessive. “Every inch of you is mine. Look at how much you need me. Your body can’t hide it.”

Her walls clenched around you again, her moans turning into desperate, high-pitched cries as you continued to drive into her relentlessly. Each thrust sent her spiraling further into ecstasy, her body reacting to every movement with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Shifting your position, you pulled back slightly, your hands sliding down to grip her thighs firmly. With deliberate care, you lifted her legs and pressed them upward, trapping them against her chest. Your knees pinned her in place, holding her completely open and vulnerable in a perfect mating press. The change in angle made her gasp sharply, her wide, hazy eyes locking onto yours.

“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Completely mine.”

The next thrust sent her screaming, her entire body jolting as you hit that spot deep inside her that made her vision blur. Her nails raked against your arms, her head tossing back against the pillow as her voice broke into desperate cries.

“Right there,” you growled, your eyes locked on her face, watching the way her expression twisted in bliss. “I can feel how much you love it. So fucking tight, clenching around me like you don’t want me to stop.”

Her sobs grew louder, her legs trembling against your chest as her body quaked with every deep, deliberate thrust. You leaned forward slightly, your grip tightening on her thighs as you drove into her harder, deeper, each motion pushing her closer to the edge

“Don’t stop!” she sobbed, her voice breaking as her walls fluttered desperately around you. “Oh, God—please, just—just like that!”

Each powerful thrust jolted her body downward, her back bouncing against the mattress only to rise again to meet you, the force of your movements sending ripples of sensation through her trembling form. The angle of the mating press left her completely at your mercy, her legs pinned upward and her body open to every deep, deliberate motion. Each plunge drove into her so deeply that she gasped, her nails raking frantically across the sheets in a futile attempt to anchor herself.

Her cries climbed in pitch, the tremor in her voice betraying how close she was to unraveling. “Oh my God—ah! Please, please!” she sobbed, her thighs twitching violently as the relentless rhythm pushed her to the edge. The slick sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the room, mingling with her desperate cries, the evidence of her arousal pooling beneath her on the bed.

Her chest heaved, her full, sensitive breasts brushing against your chest with each thrust. The friction only heightened her pleasure, her hardened nipples sending electric jolts through her trembling body every time they grazed against your skin. Her walls clamped down on you rhythmically, pulling you deeper, the overwhelming sensations making her feel as though she might shatter.

Sensing how close she was, you shifted with deliberate precision. Your hands slid from her thighs, snaking beneath her legs until they found the soft, round curves of her ass. You cupped her cheeks firmly, your fingers digging into the plush flesh as you lifted her hips off the mattress slightly. The adjustment pulled her even deeper onto you, the angle driving you into her sweet spot with devastating accuracy. Each thrust sent her body jolting violently against yours, the new position leaving her utterly breathless.

Her cries became incoherent, her head tossing back against the pillow as she writhed beneath you. “Oh—oh fuck!” she screamed, her voice cracking as another wave of sensation tore through her. Her nails scraped down your back, leaving fiery trails in their wake, her trembling fingers clutching at you desperately.

Your mouth descended to one of her taut, begging nipples, capturing it with your lips as your thrusts never faltered. You sucked hard, tugging and flicking your tongue against the sensitive peak in perfect rhythm with your movements. Her back arched sharply, a strangled cry escaping her lips as her entire body seemed to tighten beneath you. The way her walls clenched around you made your own need burn hotter, driving you to push her even further.

“You’re mine,” you murmured against her heated skin, your voice low and possessive. You squeezed her other breast firmly, kneading it with one hand while your fingers rolled her nipple between them, tugging and twisting just enough to make her gasp. Each motion sent another shockwave through her trembling frame, her moans escalating into desperate, high-pitched whimpers.

“Fuck,” you growled, your tone thick with desire as your eyes met hers, hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. “You’re taking all of me. So tight, so perfect—you were made for this. Made for me.”

Her body answered in kind, her walls fluttering uncontrollably around you as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable peak. Her thighs quaked against your sides, trembling as her body instinctively tried to match your relentless rhythm, every nerve alight with overwhelming sensation.

The fullness inside her was all-consuming. The plug pressed deeply, amplifying every thrust as it heightened the sensation of your length stretching and filling her. The dual pressure left her gasping, her breaths shallow and uneven, her mind reeling as she balanced on the knife’s edge of ecstasy.

When you thrust even deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside her with relentless precision, her body couldn’t take it anymore. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing through her with violent force. Her scream tore through the room, raw and guttural, as her walls clamped down on you in an unrelenting grip. “AAGH! Fuck—oh, fuck! I—I can’t—” Her words dissolved into incoherent sobs, her hands scrambling desperately for purchase against your shoulders, pulling you closer as her body shattered beneath you.

Her muscles tensed and released in rapid, uncontrollable spasms, her thighs trembling violently as her body gave itself over to the release she’d been denied for so long. The intensity of her climax rivaled her previous, earth shattering one., her body jerking with each wave as tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. She could feel every inch of you inside her, the fullness making her dizzy as her mind blurred into a haze of white-hot pleasure.

You didn’t stop. Your hands gripped her soft cheeks tighter, lifting her hips slightly as you pressed even deeper into her. The angle drove you against every sensitive nerve inside her, pulling even more desperate cries from her lips. Her walls rippled around you, milking you with each spasm as her release seemed endless, her trembling form unable to settle as the aftershocks kept her teetering on the brink.

Your climax hit like a flood, every pulse of release spilling deep inside her as your body trembled against hers. Each spurt of warmth was thick and heavy, filling her completely, and the sensation drew a sharp, trembling gasp from her lips. Her eyes flew open, wide with shock and arousal, as she clung to you with trembling hands.

“Oh my God,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible, her words catching in her throat as the sensation overwhelmed her. “So much…” Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, pressing tightly against your sides as her oversensitive body reacted to every movement, every pulse.

The heat of your release spread slowly, the fullness consuming her entirely. She could feel the weight of it settling deep inside her, combining with the unyielding presence of the plug to leave her utterly stuffed. Her walls fluttered around you, squeezing reflexively as though her body couldn’t bear to let go of even a drop.

Her breathing hitched as she whimpered again, the faintest shift of her hips causing another jolt of sensation to ripple through her. “I can feel it,” she whispered, her voice cracking, her cheeks flushing even deeper as her hands clung to your arms. “It’s… so much,” she sobbed softly, her words breaking into shaky, uneven breaths.

You didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, you stayed buried inside her, letting the warmth of your bodies meld together. Each faint twitch of her inner walls drew a soft groan from you, the intensity of her aftershocks still gripping you as she trembled beneath you. Her thighs shook against your hips, the muscles twitching as if her body was trying to process the overwhelming fullness.

Your hands slid down her sides, grounding her as she whimpered again, her nails digging faintly into your skin. “I… I can’t believe…” she stammered, her voice trembling as her head fell back against the pillow. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, the slickness between you evidence of just how thoroughly you’d filled her.

Her body relaxed gradually, the tension in her muscles giving way to the soft, warm haze of afterglow. But even as she melted into you, her oversensitive body still twitched faintly with each aftershock. She blinked slowly, her gaze glassy and unfocused as a faint, dazed smile curved her lips.

Leaning down, you brushed your lips against her damp forehead, your breaths mingling as you murmured, “You were perfect, Natty. Every single part of you.”

Her body slackened beneath you, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The combination of your warmth inside her, the lingering tension of the plug, and the complete fulfillment of finally letting go left her trembling. Yet, despite her exhaustion, her arms tightened around you, her hands resting against your back as though she was afraid to let you go.

Her lips curled into a faint, exhausted smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you…” The words were soft, raw with emotion, her head tilting slightly to nuzzle against your shoulder. Her breath tickled your skin as she sighed deeply, a sound that carried both relief and contentment.

You stayed close, your fingers tracing gentle circles along her thighs, soothing the trembling muscles. The room was still, the quiet filled only with the sound of your breathing and the occasional faint whimper as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensations still radiating through her. The intimacy of the moment held you both in its grasp, neither of you willing to break the connection.

As your muscles began to relax, you shifted slightly, preparing to pull back. But the moment you started to move, her legs clamped around you, her hands gripping your shoulders with surprising strength. “No,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “Don’t… not yet.”

You stilled, your gaze meeting hers. Her wide, vulnerable eyes held a pleading look that spoke volumes, and you felt her inner walls flutter faintly around you, still pulsing in the aftermath of her climax. “I need this,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Stay… please.”

You exhaled softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her lips. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice warm and reassuring. “I’ll stay.”

Her body relaxed again beneath you, her legs loosening slightly but still holding you close. She shifted just enough to get comfortable, her head nestled into the crook of your neck, her breaths warm against your skin. The intimacy was almost overwhelming, the feeling of being so deeply connected both physically and emotionally grounding you both.

Time seemed to blur as the exhaustion began to take over. Her body molded against yours, her hands resting lightly on your back as her breaths evened out. Despite the fullness she still felt, her body relaxed entirely. It wasn’t discomfort anymore; it was a sense of being whole, of closeness she didn’t want to end.

“Natty,” you murmured softly, brushing your lips against her temple. “I’m just moving us. I’ve got you.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, her voice barely audible as her head nestled further into the crook of your neck. Carefully, you rolled her over, cradling her as you shifted until she was on top of you. The change in position was smoother than expected, her lighter frame settling easily against your chest. She sighed softly, her cheek pressed to your collarbone, her body melting into yours like she belonged there.

“This is better,” you murmured, your hands tracing soothing patterns along her back. “Easier for me to hold you.”

She mumbled something incoherent, her voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction. The warmth of her breath against your skin made you smile, and you began to pepper soft kisses across her face. You started at her temple, trailing down to her cheek, then across the bridge of her nose. Each kiss was tender, deliberate, a quiet celebration of everything you’d just shared.

“You’re so good, Natty,” you murmured between kisses. “You’ve been incredible.”

She hummed again, the sound low and contented, her lips curving into the faintest smile. Her body relaxed even further against yours, the tension completely melting away as your words wrapped around her.

Your hands moved to her hair, threading through the strands gently as you continued to speak. “You’re everything I need,” you whispered, your voice soft and warm. “I’m so proud of you. So proud of how far you’ve come.”

Her arms tightened around you, her fingers clutching softly at your sides as she sighed deeply. The rise and fall of her chest against yours slowed, her breathing evening out as her exhaustion began to take over. Her head tilted slightly, her lips brushing against your collarbone in a gesture so faint it was almost subconscious.

As her breathing deepened, you felt her weight grow heavier against you, her body finally succumbing to sleep. You wrapped your arms more securely around her, pressing one final kiss to her forehead as her face relaxed into the softest expression of peace.

“Sweet dreams, Natty,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a tranquil stillness, the quiet intimacy wrapping around you both as you closed your eyes. Still connected, still grounded in each other, you let sleep take you, the warmth of her presence the last thing you felt before drifting off.

Afterward, she lay curled against your chest, her body trembling faintly as the intensity of the night ebbed away. Her breaths were soft and uneven, her cheek pressed against your skin, her warmth melding into yours. You brushed a hand through her hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands as you pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

“You did it,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with pride. “You made it. And you were perfect.”

Her lips curved into a soft, sleepy smile, her eyes fluttering closed. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice fragile and barely audible, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate serenity of the moment.

You smirked slightly, the corner of your mouth lifting as your hand drifted to her back, tracing lazy circles against her skin. The rhythmic motion was soothing, grounding her as she nestled closer into your embrace. “Don’t forget this feeling, Natty,” you said, your tone steady but laced with affection. “You earned it.”

A soft hum escaped her lips, her exhaustion pulling her deeper into the comfort of your arms. Her body slackened, her breathing evening out as she surrendered completely, her trust in you evident in every relaxed line of her form.

You lay there quietly, the room settling into a peaceful stillness. The faint scent of her lingered in the air, a reminder of the passion and vulnerability she’d shared with you. A quiet pride swelled in your chest. She had given herself over to you fully, trusted you with every part of herself, and in return, you’d given her everything she had needed—and more.

As she drifted into sleep, her body curled protectively against yours, you held her close, your hand never stopping its soothing motion. For now, the storm was over, and you both could bask in the calm it left behind.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

A/n: u guys r gonna have to imagine alot w these pics 😭 but i wrote whos supposed to be who so it makes a bit more sense!!!!! THIS ONLY MAKES SENSE IF YOU READ THE FIRST BIT

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,308,252 people

Prepare for the ‘Anastasia’ photo dump 😈

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tomblyth: yummy cake 🍰😋

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: i'm craving it so bad rn 🤤

user1: THE MOVIE WAS SO GOOD WTAF

user2: Y/n and Tom's on screen chemistry is insane...

user3: her smile in the second picture 🥹

user4: empress Marie was a slay

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: she honestly was

~

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 2,920,163 people

this is what we gotta say to those who haven’t watched Anastasia yet 🖕🖕🖕 (we’re kidding)

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user1: how was filming in St. Petersburg??

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: had the best time of my life 🙈 St. Petersburg is so gorgeous.

user2: yesss feed us w more Anastasia bts please!!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: yes ma’am 🫡

↘️ user3: BAHAHHAHAAH

user4: everyone go watch Anastasia rn. It’s a masterpiece😟

user5: she’s so gorgeous it’s not fair

~

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,027,496 people

pics of me eating the most 21st century food in my 20th century fits 😋‼️

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tomblyth: fun fact, I took ALL of these

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 😂😂😂

user1: this is so funny to me LMAO

user2: the fits 🤌

↘️ user3: THEY WERE EVERYTHING!

user4: so this is what u guys do behind the scenes? eating?

↘️ tomblyth: yup.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pretty much!!

~

tomblyth

Liked by 4,305,262 people

‘Anastasia’ out now in the cinemas!!!! So incredibly grateful to have worked with such amazing and talented people, experiencing it with y/n made it even better 💗

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y/n_y/l/n: i’m tearing up…. It was so much fun, I’m going to miss everything about it 💔

↘️ tomblyth: gonna miss seeing u in ur costume 🥹 you looked absolutely gorgeous

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: awee I love u!!!!

↘️ user1: my parents r so adorable 😣

user2: third pic is everything!

user3: they did so good with the casting!

~

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 3,947,028 people

St. Petersburg weather was smth else 🥶

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actorwhoplaysrasputin: it wasn’t even that cold y/n 🙄

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: says the person who wore 4 jackets in between takes 😟

↘️ actorwhoplaysrasputin: zip it.

↘️ user1: I love this duo 😂

actorwhoplaysphlegmenkoff: it was a pleasure to work with such young, talented actors like yourselves!!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: awee thank you actors name!! It was an honour to work with you!!

↘️ tomblyth: appreciate it man 🤝

user2: them casting actors name as Rasputin was the best decision ever. Can’t see anyone else for that role!

user3: this movie had such iconic actors and actresses 😭

↘️ user4: I just know this movie was expensive 😃

~

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by 4,307,287 people

Anastasia dump pt. 2974822? 😂

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user1: FIRST PIC HAHAHAHA

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: felt xtra cute so I had to 😛

↘️ user2: Tom not looking amused in the back 🤣

↘️ tomblyth: I’m used to it

actorwhoplaysvladimir: miss you guys!!!

↘️ tomblyth: you act as if we don’t live in the same street 🤣

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: literally walk the few steps and you’ll see us lol

user3: I can’t wait for more of your bts vids to come out on yt bc man they’re so entertaining!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I’m posting a 30 min bts vlog tomorrow 😙

↘️ user4: YAYYY

↘️ user5: y/n has a yt channel and I haven’t heard about it?

↘️ user6: she’s had it since she was in high school 😭

~

tomblyth

Liked by 6,958,212 people

Can’t believe ‘Anastasia’ has been nominated for best film adaptation of books!!! Thank you everyone who voted :)

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y/n_y/l/n: THIS IS INSANEE AHHHH

↘️ tomblyth: 🥳🎉

themichaellockshin: 🤩🤩

actorwhoplaysnicholas: hell yeah!!

user1: they’re so cute omg 🥺

user2: actresswhoplaysdowagermarie is such a slay 😭

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: she literally is!

↘️ tomblyth: we love her!

↘️ user2: ahhh you both responded 😭

~

themichaelockshin

Liked by 10,037,297

Cheers again for the love and support for this movie!! To all the cast members I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are all such talented people and it was wonderful working with you all!

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y/n_y/l/n: thank you Michael ❤️ will never forget this experience :)

↘️ themichaelockshin: you and Tom were spectacular 🤩

tomblyth: what a journey we went through!

actorwhoplaysrasputin: miss you all!

actorwhoplaysolga: thank you Michael!! Filming with you all was a wonderful experience 🫶

user1: ice cream during the winter?

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: yup. What abt it 😛

user2: awe I love this cast sm

↘️ user3: literally the best cast

[goldsbitch]

Hi🥹 cam I just say that I love your writing?

Would you be able to write something with Lando or oscar (his sister) of him/ them surprising her for her birthday? Possibly she likes christmas a lot so a christmas in July with lots of christmas deco.

It's my birthday soon and I don't really have anybody to celebrate with which is fine but I still wanted to ask

Xx

this is by far one of the sweetest asks I've ever read - sorry for taking such a long time! i got sick and the mind was just too cloudy

i do hope you'll like this. i've finished it just after the race, so it's not as fluffy as i intended this to be. hopefully we'll recover from that soon

anyway - happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Christmas in July

2 days before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

"What brings her joy?" Lando asked as if he spoke of some impossible philosophical dilema. The only thing missing was a big white board for him to stare at. It was sometimes hard to decipher when he was joking and when he was being serious. But Oscar knew one thing - this guy would rather gather up a crowd before sorting out something on his own. He had currently set up a "war council" as he called it not-so-dramatically in order to figure a way how to approach the his sister's birthday. Among others present was his teammate.

Oscar had a dilema of his own, sitting there on a chair with few other people present on this strange meeting Lando held in his hotel room. While his teammate was trying to figure out how to cheer up his sister, who was suppose to be spending her birthday with her best friend in Budapest during their Grand Prix, Oscar was trying his best not to raise any suspicion. Nobody here knew it was nearly impossible to count the nights he had spend secretly texting with Lando's sister. It was innocent. Just two friends wishing each other good night every other day. Definitely not crossing the line at all.

Lando did not share details as to why he was suddenly putting himself in charge or his sister's birthday with the group. She had a whole thing planned with her best friend for Hungarian summer race weekend. Not even Lando had that many details about their falling out as Oscar had.

In a way, he was glad that Lando took this initiative and he could hide behind him, making sure her brother did not cross the line or got too carried away. And ensure that Y/N had the birthday she deserved. A girl probably too sweet for their world anyway. Once again, Oscar had to stop himself before he lost his thoughts completely. She was just a friend. His teammate's sister. Nothing more.

Ugh.

//

Sun kissed people smiling in streets older than time itself. Ancient glory still piercing through the cobblestones and some kind of magic the locals put to the water here, making it all dreamy and mystic.

Yeah, that's all great and amazing - unless you're there alone, bored and mad at everyone. Even the bloody sun was too much these days. And coffee too bitter this time.

Y/N was people-watching, while she enjoyed her scenery coffee alone. Every group of friends walking by and enjoying their summer felt like a personal attack. Somehow, every happy couple in the surrounding area must have decided to take a stroll around the city and her ever-so-single self had to watch it all happen.

Having a fight with a bestie is hard on its own, it's absolutely amazing when it happens around ones birthday. Right now, there were suppose be having a blast in a local spa and preferably talk about the latest boy they'd flirted with the night before. But no.

The dread of having a fallout with a friend is often worse than a break up.

There was only one person she truly wished to text at that moment, but their texting has been getting out of hand for the past days. She tried to avoid wallowing in the memories of her blushing at her phone last night. She was just a friend to Oscar, nothing more. It was impossible - he was her brother's teammate! A very sweet, funny and irresistable teammate. She imposed a self-ban on her, no texting Oscar during the day. At least today.

//

"What if I... hire a horse and have her ride on it to the paddock!" Lando said, desperation dripping from his mouth.

Oscar chuckled, this was way too much fun to watch. Lando shot him an intimidating look, making the poor guy worried for a moment. He can't possibly know, right? Oscar gulped, swallowing his next chuckle.

"Something funny, Osc?"

"No, certainly not." Never once has Oscar felt more like a school boy that right there. "Although, I would question if this is something she would truly enjoy. I imagine she is a little shy for that."

He did not need to imagine anything - he could practically see her horrified texts incoming. It has been few hours since she's responded. It was getting harder for Oscar to keep lying to himself a pretending it did not bother him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Lando replied after a moment o thought. "Fuckin' hell. I can't just buy her a necklace. That's so lame."

Oscar agreed. Unless it was a personal one.

"I'd say you should keep it private and sweet."

Lando was getting slightly annoyed, as no clear idea seemed to come up. "No, Oscar, it needs to be an absolute bomb. Gotta cheer her up somehow."

The Australian man could not argue with that. "True. Come on, what does she like?"

"I dunno, it's hard. And like, we don't have much time. to organize," Lando sighed. He should have prepped this sooner.

Unlike Lando, Oscar had a very clear idea of which direction to go to. He just couldn't be blunt about it. "When have you seen her happiest?"

Lando frowned, his eyebrows dancing in deep thoughts. "I dunno, when she brings home a new guy?"

Oscar's stomach did a u-turn at the idea of Y/N bringing guys home. More specifically, guys that were not him. "No, I meant like - time of the year of something like that."

Silence fell over the room. "I dunno, on her birthday, maybe?! What the fuck is your point?" Lando asked bluntly. Oscar bit his lip, this was going to be painful. It was simple, obvious, hell anyone who knew her at least a bit would know the one thing she absolutely loves was Christmas - and why not have Christmas now? Get a little tree, pump it up and make it all a big jolly fun.

"Yes, but like, time of the year - what does she like the most?" Oscar tried once again.

Lando was getting impatient. "Are you hinting on anything specific or just shooting in the dark?" It sounded more like a threat than a question. Oscar had no choice but to back down, worried he might have to reveal things he wished to be private at the moment. His massive crush on Lando's sister being the main thing he had to hide.

"Nope, just trying to give you pointers..." he said and sunk deeper in his chair. For a good chunk of the next 20 minutes he had to listen to the "war council" coming up with mediocre ideas like booking up a private spa in the city centre.

//

1 day before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

Lando woke up with a vision, a genius idea and a ground breaking concept - Christmas in July! Scratched all his other plans and had his team working on the ever-so-easy task of getting a Christmas tree in the middle of summer, on a weekend of all days. Many curse words were uttered in secrecy by his assistants.

Nevermind the three Christmas themed TikToks Oscar sent him, trying to steer his subconsciousness.

Lando created a massive group chat, instructing everyone not to acknowledge Y/N birthday the following day and to wait for the celebration after the race. Everyone was invited. Including Oscar, who was skeptical about leaving Y/N guessing the whole day. But, it was Lando's call. So he obeyed.

//

Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

There was a strange energy in the air the whole day. Y/N had a very little contact with her brother, as he was fully deep in prep for his race. Oscar was also completely MIA. It was all terribly, terribly lonely. She shouldn't have come here. Her secret hopes of getting some alone time with Oscar totally clashed with the fact he was busier than usual. Birthday was no big deal anyway, right? Phone calls she received from her family were precious and were enough - at least this is what she tried to convince herself with when she sipped another lonely coffee. The buzz and excited people around the paddock not helping her. Nobody seemed to care. She would have thought that Oscar would. But no.

//

It was supposed to be a joyous celebration. But after the very questionable race they'd all just gone through, it was all but that. Lando really tried to push his real emotions back and be there to celebrate his sister. But it was just not working at all. Part of his wished he had done this thing the evening before. He was exhausted, pissed, sad and just wanted to go home. And she could see right through him.

When she got picked up by a driver and taken to a location unknown to her, she knew what was up. But, the decorations surprised her - someone really went all out. Christmas lights and decorations covered the whole room and big banquet with enough food to last them to the next December. It was a dream come true. But sometimes, it just takes few people to make an evening special. And the one she really wished to attend wasn't there.

Happy birthday! I hope your party is all you could have wished for. I was looking forward to be there with all of you, but I think my presence would taint it today. Hope you have a blast and have a wonderful year ahead of you!

The text lingered, as she toasted with another random person. As if it burned on her phone and through her pocket.

Thank you - congratulations of your first win!

It was a dry, cold response. But she did not have more in her to write. He did left her on read for two days. She had to remember her loayality towards her brother, who did go and created the best evening she could have asked for. She saw him, sitting at a table, deep in his own head. She went to sit next to him.

"Penny for your thought?" she nudged her brother. As soon as she spoke to him, he put on his fake smile on, the one he used the whole evening to hide his real emotions.

"Just happy you're happy," he said, clouded by his own emotions too much to see that she was in fact not having a good time. But both can pretend in order to protect the other.

"It is magnificent," she said, looking around at the massive Christmas tree. "Thank you."

Lando smiled weakly, getting sick of that sentence.

"Lando, I can see you're feeling really down. You do not have to be here just to please me. It must be horrible," she said, taking on the role of the supporter.

Her brother was crunched to his seat, visibly exhausted and completely over this bloody day. He couldn't look at her, as he felt incredibly selfish by making this about him again. As he always did.

"I'm a shit brother sometimes. I just want you to be happy," he responded.

"What a long we've travelled from you hitting me with a stick everytime mom turned around."

Lando let a small laugh out and finally looked at her.

"Ok, brother, I can't have you staying here, looking like you're about to drop dead any minute. Go do what you need to do. And we both know that is to get out of sight and have some alone time," she ordered, not having it anymore.

"You're right. As always. And hey, about that annoying friend of yours...I'll be alright. I'm sure of it." Lando never liked her, but he knew that Y/N loved her, so basic respect it was from him. Y/N's bigger issue at the moment was Lando-Oscar relationship. And her little crush. After the event today, it just seemed so out of the window.

"All will be alright," she replied, trying to convince herself more than Lando. "Now get off my party, you weirdo," she said jokingly, knowing well enough with him gone, there will be no one she truly liked left on her party. Just Lando's friend and few people from his team. But that was a reasonable price to pay for letting her brother go and deal with his emotions.

//

A knock on the door. Y/N came to the hotel quite late, but apparently someone wanted to come to visit even later.

She slowly opened the door, only to find a somewhat drunk Oscar swinging from one side to another, having troubles standing straight.

"Ssshh," he gestured immediately upon her opening the door, making in fact a louder sound than she ever planned on making.

"Oscar!" she whispered, surprised. Her heart must have stopped temporarily. He was there, standing in front of her. They were alone, for anyone to see. He was gorgeous. Stripped out of any inhibitions, barely keeping his eyes open.

"I'll stay here," he announced, rejecting an invitation that was never uttered. "I can't make your brother mad, not today. As you know."

Y/N was in a slight panic mode - the universal panic only one's crush can induce.

"I...have. A gift for you," Oscar mumbled and finally revealed his hand which was behind his back this whole time. It was a small box wrapped in the cheesiest Christmas paper. Y/N couldn't but smile at the awkward way it was wrapped, obviously Oscar himself took the time to do it on his own. "I wanted-wanted to give it to you this evening, but you know. Racing got...dramatic," he said, tripping over his own tongue. Y/N leaned closer and tried to stable him, which he rejected. "No! I will not come to your room today, no matter how much I want to," he continued denying offers that weren't made, making her laugh a bit. Drunk Oscar was a very cute Oscar. "I value you. And our...it's not a relationship, but it's also not a friendship, so let's just call it a ship," he reasoned, burped and then continued. "I value our ship and I do not want anyone to think I'm taking ad-advantage of you, so it must be done right. Today is not the day," he said, pointing his finger up. "Take this," he pushed his gift to her hands. "Lando said a necklace is a bad gift, but I don't think so. This will look pretty on your neck."

Y/N never took Oscar as a talkative drunk. But it was sweet to watch him, no boundaries at all.

"Thank you, Oscar. This is so nice of you," she said, still fighting her own surprised reaction.

"Good. I will go now. Today is not the right day to tell you I have a crush on you," he said and marched through the hallway, hopefully to his hotel room.

It was impossible to wipe off the smile out of Y/N face. Her crush liked her back. Gave her a beautiful gift.

But he was right - that day was not a good day for them to get together. But, a ship has definitely sailed.

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Charles Leclerc x Gn! Reader

I love you, Y/n L/n

This shit is inspired by tears of heaven by Eric Clapton, I had a different song in mind but I realized that song didn't fit the plot. And I remembered this one, hopefully it's good enough 🥹🥹🥹

First gender neutral reader I've done (only labeled one lmao) hope this is good enough to wait for the very dramatic fanfic up coming. I'm shit at emotional stuff so it's taking extra long 😭😭 sry anon.

Enjoy 🫶

I tried to proof read but I'm busy, hope you atleast understand it 🥹🥹🥹

"When I go, can you promise me to move on from me, someday? Have kids? And maybe, just maybe name a dog after me."

They said in a weak voice as they lay in our bedroom.

"I-I will, I will Y/n."

I held their hand weakly as I held it to my lips as I kissed it.

"Don't cry, Charlie."

They weakly reached out to wipe the tear that unknowingly fell down my cheek.

"I love you, Y/n. Know that, please, I love you, I love you so much. I don't want you to leave me, you are the r-reason I stayed strong when my father died, and now you leave me too. It's unfair it's s-so unfair, you were my first love, Y/n."

I said as I let out a sob I was holding in.

"Please don't cry, I hate it when you're sad."

———

Would you know my name if I saw you in Heaven?

Would it be the same if I saw you in Heaven?

I must be strong and carry on

‘Cause I know I don't belong here in Heaven

———

"Hi."

a voice said, next to me.

"Hi, I'm Y/n."

They said as they smiled at me.

"I'm Charles."

I smiled back as I held out my hand. They slowly began to shake my hand hand.

"Are you new?"

I asked as they nodded shyly.

"how old are you?"

I asked them as we completely forgot about the teacher at the front.

"I'm 16."

They said anxiously.

"I'm also 16, do you have any friends here, yet?"

They shook their head no.

"Want to eat lunch with me?"

They nodded.

"You're not very talkative."

I chuckled, they shook their head no.

———

Would you hold my hand if I saw you in Heaven?

Would you help me stand if I saw you in Heaven?

I'll find my way through night and day

‘Cause I know I just can't stay here in Heaven

———

"Want to come to my first f2 race?"

I asked Y/n as we were walking around the streets of Monaco.

"Where is it?"

They asked as I looked at them on my left.

"Bahrain."

"I-i can't afford that, Charlie, I would love to, but I can't."

"I'll pay, I'll pay for everything, just go, please."

We stopped walking as I grabbed his hand.

"I'd feel guilty."

They said sadly.

"Consider it, my early birthday gift to you."

They rolled their eyes at me as they took back their hand. But I wrapped my arm around their shoulder and pulled them close to me.

"Come with me and my father, or I'll cry."

I said childishly as I pouted.

"Fine, you big baby."

They pushed me away from them.

———

Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees

Time can break your heart, have you begging please

Begging please

———

Cheers and yells were all around me as I climbed up the podium, and stood still for the Monegasque anthem to play. As the anthem was playing, I looked around the people searching for Y/n, I smiled sadly as I saw them alone. My father was supposed to come, but God had other plans.

As the anthem ended, I grabbed the champagne and began to shower the other two drivers on the podium and the people below. I grabbed my trophy and raised it up after I finished my champagne and climbed down.

I immediately went to where Y/n was, giving the trophy to my team on the way. As soon as I got to them, I pulled them to me and kissed their lips. My hand on their neck pulling them closer and the other on their hips gently squeezing.

I slowly pulled back, needing oxygen but I rested our foreheads together as I looked at their eyes, wanting this moment to never seize.

"Be mine?"

———

Beyond the door, there's peace, I'm sure

And I know there'll be no more tears

in Heaven

———

"Charlie?"

I heard their voice call out to me as the door to our apartment opened and closed.

"Kitchen."

I heard footsteps getting closer and crinkling of paper. I turned to them and they hastily hid something behind their back but the crinkling of paper could still be heard.

"Any problem, amour?"

I asked as I approached them, they shook their head no.

"Sure?"

I looked down guiltily.

"I don't want to ruin your home race."

They said with a smile.

"If you say so, I trust you, Y/n."

I smiled back and put a hand on their cheek.

"But please, if it's very important, tell me as soon as possible, okay?"

I said worriedly.

"Promise."

They took my hand on their cheek and pulled me close, kissing my cheek.

"What were you making?"

"Pasta, it's the only thing I know how to cook."

I put my arm around their waist and walked with them towards the stove where the water was boiling over and the pasta becoming mush.

"That's a lie."

They laughed as they turned off the stove and threw away the pasta.

"You're hopeless in the kitchen, go back to racing."

They rolled their eyes at me and pushed me away.

"Go wait in the living while I cook something edible."

"You're mean."

I hugged them from behind and kissed their neck.

"Yea yea now go, shoo out with you."

They pushed me out of the kitchen, on my way out I saw the paper on the counter.

———

Would you know my name if I saw you in Heaven?

Would you be the same if I saw you in Heaven?

———

"YOU DID IT, CHARLIE, YOU BROKE THE CURSE, I'M SO PROUD OF YOU."

Y/n said as I ran towards them and hugged them tight, as I felt tears of joy rolling down my cheeks.

"I'm so proud of you, Mon amour."

They said as they hugged me back tight, and kissed my hair. As my face was buried in their neck.

"I love you so much, I again, I won here when I met you, and I won my home race."

I mumbled against their neck.

"I love you too."

———

"I wish we could've spent more time together, Mon amour."

I mumbled against their hand as the beeps became flat, and their body became limp.

———

I must be strong and carry on

'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.

———

[saintslewis]

Graduation

pairing: lewis hamilton x black fem reader

summary: in which you celebrate your graduation day with your husband and family/friends

saint’s notes: in honour of graduation season, here’s a fic for y’all 🫶🏽 first f1 fic let’s gaurrrrrrr

social media + real life au

taglist: @thisismeracing (i really love your acc so this is to just say 🫶🏽)

ynhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, bellahadid and 7,838,839 others

ynhamilton i’ve successfully served cunt academically

view comments

user she is mother and no one can say otherwise

landonoriss mom finally graduated 🥹

ynhamilton not even gonna say anything anymore-

lewishamilton congratulations my love! i’m extremely proud of you and i love you

ynhamilton i love you more 🥹 thank you for the gift btw 🤭

lewishamilton i love you way more but okay 🩷

user what degree did you get???

ynhamilton a masters in English Literature 😋

user oh so you smart smart?

ynhamilton pretty much

pierregasly10 so no more doing homework in the wrong motor homes? (alpine misses your frantic typing)

ynhamilton it was one time and i’m a mercedes girly so pls

mercedesamgf1 i know that’s right! 🤭

charles_leclerc congratulations y/n! making me feel like a proud parent

maxverstappen1 weren’t you crying when she got on stage? 😭

carlossainz55 he was and it was the funniest thing ever

user damn, so the whole grid was at her graduation? 😧

user basically yeah 😭, i was graduating as an undergraduate and when they called her name, they cheered so loud

user and when lewis yelled ‘that’s my wife!’ I shed a couple of tears

bellahadid babe omg!!!!! congrats, so excited to see you omg

gigihadid bella shhhhh

sza you guys aren’t good at this 😭

danielricciardo you did serve cunt

ynhamilton thanks Danny 🥳

susiewolff what do you guys say? you ate them up!

ynhamilton that’s the spirit Susie!!

youryoungersister CONGRATS

ynhamilton thanks stupid

youryoungersister since you got your degree and yk everything fucking thing-

ynhamilton degrees*

youryoungersister celcius bitch

sophiarichiegrainge i literally love you so much

ynhamilton you’re too sweet, i love you too

The traffic of getting out of the campus was tough, the occasional fan coming up to the car to either take videos of it for social media or to interact with both you, Lewis or the other drivers. Having the top down for the fans to have better access to the both of you resulted in paparazzi at the gate of the university, trying to grab pictures of you mainly.

“Babe look! They’re calling it the Paddock Grad party.” You chuckled as you chuckled at the tweets you were scrolling through as you found out that you were trending on the app. The wind wasn’t too harsh on your faces as he cruised down the streets, constantly congratulating you and doing an amazing job at distracting you from the fact that the rest of the grid that attended your graduation had driven past you.

Reaching the infamous Hidden Hills gates, you were greeted with balloons from the guards, already putting the biggest smile on your face. Driving towards your LA home, you noticed all the super cars, hyper cars and luxury vehicles leading up to your driveway with each car having a gold balloon strapped around the mirror. You were absolutely stunned by everything you were taking in and Lewis looked at you as if you hung up all the stars in the night sky, extremely proud of your achievements.

With him helping you out of the car, you noticed the white rose petals scattered around the front yard and the music blaring from your backyard. The thought of all your favourite people coming together to celebrate your newest achievement was bringing tears of joy to your eyes, refusing to cry and ruining your lashes. Walking into your home, you noticed the incredibly large table of gifts as you walked into your foyer and Lewis just following behind you as you marvelled at everything in your home.

“Y/n,” He called out as you were a few feet away from the door leading to your backyard. Looking back at your husband, you held his hand. “Don’t you want to change your shoes?” He asked, noticing your discomfort from your heels after the graduation ceremony had ended. You nodded with the most love sick smile on your face as he brought out your favourite Gucci platform sandals from behind his back. He let out a little giggle at the look on your face and got on his knees to undo your shoes for you. Sighing of relief as your bare feet hit the cool ground, you slipped your feet into the sandals, noticing the height change between you and Lewis as he was taller than you. He placed a kiss on your forehead then your lips, repeatedly kissing your lips until your giggle stopped him.

As you walked into the kitchen which had access to the patio door, you noticed all the food and dessert beautifully decorated with white and gold, the one thing catching your attention the most was the doughnut stand in the middle of your island. You gasped and immediately went for the stand, grabbing a white chocolate doughnut that wrote ‘congratulations, y/n!’. You split it into two pieces and offered to Lewis knowing he would definitely decline it but he surprised you by taking the other half. “What? I can’t say no to a celebration.” He winked at you as he took a bite out of it.

Almost forgetting about the party he quite literally planned to happen in his backyard, he held your hand once again and led you to the party outside with all the guests waiting for you. As he opened the door, the sounds of Kaytranada were heard and people talking as they turned their attention to the door you were walking out from. The cheers started as you fully walked into the yard with Lewis squeezing your hand and letting it go, stepping to the side to let people celebrate you.

The first person to approach you was your mother, embracing you in a loving hug as tears threatened to fall. The next being your younger sister, trying her hardest to stay cool as she looked at you so proudly. Your immediate family had come up to congratulate you before letting your friends celebrate you.

After receiving hugs and congratulatory messages from everyone, taking many photos from the Photo Booth that was rented and a little bit of dancing, it was soon time to eat as the sun was setting beautifully as the hues of pink and orange hit your skin. Placing your graduation cap on the hook of your chair, you faced everyone as you sat at the head of the table. During your meal, you decided to make a speech to say thank you to everyone.

“Hey everyone,” You greeted as all eyes turned to you when you stood up. “Um, sorry for interrupting your eating. Just wanted to say a speech to you guys.” You began and you heard Daniel Ric’s iconic ‘Ki ki’ noises that you’ve had the honour of hearing live many times. “Thank you Daniel for that, gratefully appreciated.” You smiled, causing the whole table to laugh.

“I would like to start off by saying thank you, truly. To my family for supporting me through everything, to myself for getting these degrees, to my friends that i have met along the way and to my loving husband for sticking with me and loving me.” You expressed, seeing smiles from everyone around you. “I remember leaving home, just graduated with my undergrad and i wanted to spoil myself and I took a solo trip to the Monaco gp with an extremely limited budget and i didn’t know what i was going to eat for that week but my younger delusional self knew that I wasn’t going to struggle because a driver will see me on the stand and instantly fall for me and well, that’s exactly what happened except now I’m the designated paddock mom.” You chuckled, reminiscing on that life changing week.

“Years later, I’m married to the love of my life with my master’s degree on lock, just hitting the millionaire status from my career and the best people by my side supporting me through and through. I truly love all of you so much and lemme stop before i ruin this makeup.” You laughed, grabbing a serviette and dabbing your eyes before tears fell.

The night had carried on beautifully as your friends had made speeches about how it was when you’d complain about your work load to them or the iconic moments you’d take your homework along with you to a few races. Having your favourite desserts and dancing with your friends until late had made you feel happy about everything that you’ve accomplished for yourself.

[vqrtualheartss]

"𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖" — 𝑬42 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

Do not question why the time is going so fast part two

Yes, your friends are low-key bimbos but they book n street smart

Y'all I'm so happy that my page is growing 🥹 I love y'all fr

—Warnings: I have never been outside this country so I am NOT familiar with Brooklyn slang., Use of N word —hence why the title says it's for black readers

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 | Throughout Brooklyn Visions you were known as 'antisocial' —always wearing a mask even after the end of COVID, never at a party or a school function, 'dead socials', and the one that seals the deal: never seen with a boy.— Truth is you weren't even like that, up in that school the way everyone thinks is basically copied and pasted and not in a good way. It wouldn't take much to be viewed differently and not being too interested in interacting with almost anybody, you just kept to yourself. And no, this isn't some typical white highschool movie where you're bullied and apart of some loser, nerd squad, if anything it was far from that. Y'know those pretty, melanin-queen it-girls? Yeah, that's your crew, don't get it twisted though, you weren't some 'accessory friend' used by them —you we're just as pretty if not more— but you've seen how guys treat pretty girls in comparison to those "average" and who would want to be with someone like that? Definitely not you

It was the day before the mid-term break and your friends —Shadae, Nia, Kiara and Lailah— were nowhere to be found. Coming to the conclusion that they were at a party being held for whatever reason an exasperated sigh left your body closing your locker. "So that's really what they doing now? It's their lives soo if they don't care why should I?"

The sun's rays barely illuminated the hallway being hid behind clouds, playing into the gloomy theme. Walking through the large, empty spaces, head held straight going to your third/fifth class, you noticed someone staring at you through your peripheral vision—Miles Morales. A little introduction on him, he was apart of a group basically the male version of yours, minus you. Girls gushed at him, sliding notes into his locker and stuff, typical party animal, you heard through rumours that he hooks up with a new girl every other week. One would think it's false news cause that sounds absolutely atrocious but they came prepared with receipts ―But even those could be made up― and to no surprise, there were girls wanting to be one of his bi-weekly flings. Come to say though, it was a little weird how his gaze situated on you as you walked but you decided to brush it off as nothing. There's no way you could see yourself interacting with him. Ever.

In class

Since it was the last day so far all teachers gave a free period. As usual, you remained silent scrolling through whatever the media had to offer, even though having admitted that it was a boring ritual, you refrained to do otherwise. Time passed and the bell rung with you not wasting a second getting out the door, stuff already packed.

Moving along the steps going down to the next classroom, the deafening screech of the intercom went off as the minority of students covered their ears including yourself waiting for it to end, seeing a person take down their hands, everyone did too before the announcement went off.

"Attention students and staff: In light of the reduced teaching activities and productive learning for the day, we have made the decision to conclude school early. We believe that providing you with this extra time will allow you to enjoy a well-deserved break. Make the most of this unexpected opportunity and enjoy your extended free time!"

The halls erupted with cheers, laughter and talking as people made their way outside the school, although intending to head straight home, a few necessary stops to some stores had to be made before doing so. Heading out, you opened the phone still in your hand to make a list of things that came up to mind

Braiding hair

Gummy Wax

Bonnet

More coconut watrdf

"The fuck?" The words slipped from my mouth under a whisper at the sudden jolt of my body -can't even write a list in this school-, looking back I saw someone holding onto my arm, stopping me from going outside. It was Miles, -what could he ever want from me?- my eyebrow lifted, "hm?" "Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you" he released his hand off my body, leaning on a locker with his bag hanging off his shoulder "Um okay, about what?" I crossed my arms, noticing his eyes widened slightly before returning to their natural, slightly seductive state. "You actually talk?" "Nope" Trying to escape, he caught onto my hand, our eyes piercing into the others before he added "Alright that one was my fault, but I just wanted to ask if you're doing alright"

I glanced over his shoulder, searching for his friends, a camera, or any signs of people giggling, this had to be some sort of prank. Finding nothing, I gave in -one conversation can't hurt right?- "Yea I am, why do you ask?" "I didn't see your friends- wait" he tilted his head towards the door, hinting for us to go outside "You ain't tryna be seen with me or you good right here? " I looked around the room, dragging a hand down my face acknowledging the little clusters of people staring. Facing him again, I nodded and together we made our way out.

"So where we going first? Am I getting punk'd? I saw the lil' list you had" Rubbing his palms together, he anticipated my response as we crossed the road. Using my hand as a sun blocker, I squinted before answering

"You're very nosy and I will be-" "We" I stood taking a good look at the boy, blinking slowly. Realizing that he didn't plan on going anywhere else I caved in, "We will be going to the hair supply store first" he smiled at my renewed sentence.

"His dimples are cute- " "Nah shut the fuck up actually." "But he is though"

Shaking away the thoughts going back and forth with themselves, I focused my attention back to Miles who was already looking at me. To be fair, I was still skeptical of the sudden interactions and wanting to waste no one's time, I went straight toward my point. "What do you want? If you want something with one of my friends I can give it to you y'know" I kid you not when I say that this boy burst out laughing.

He held a hand at his chest before we stopped walking "That's what you think of me f'real?" I shrugged replying "That's what I think of most of them" I made a popping noise with my mouth, his hands digging deeper into the jacket's pockets. A playful smirk dancing on his face as he bit his lip, he was fine and I'm sure he knew it― Girl, no

Still standing, I continued. "Word in the street says that you copping a new chick every two weeks" he narrowed his eyes as I loosened my bag straps. "I be in the streets everyday and I never heard that" crossing his arms, he sent me a jest-filled glare before continuing " and how YOU hearing what's going on in these streets Miss Mysterious?" He pointed at me in the middle of his sentence to which I scratched my neck nervously with my index finger, avoiding any eye contact. Finishing his sentence he urged for my response with a "huh?" before looking down at me with half closed eyes, still chewing on his bottom lip

Counting on my fingers, I started to explain myself "Okay one, I don't gossip but the friends I hang around do and I have working ears, so what? And number two, I have a name sir" "Are you going to tell me it?" "It's (y/n)" "Well, (y/n) to answer your first question. Your crew? Nah, they okay but you though, you caught my eye. And I ain't trying to serve up that 'you're unique' cliché but real shit, that's what got me wanting to talk with you" "Okay I'm sure I'm not that interesting" my hands now rested on the curve of my hips, blankly looking at Miles who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of me. "Let me be the judge of that, tell me more about you"

I shook my head as I went to approach the other side of the pole he was on, worst mistake . He yanked me by my bag, dragging me over to his side as he stared at me with wide eyes "we don't do that shit around here" he extended his hand , pointing to the path infront him.

I looked back at him in disbelief, my eyes and eyebrows being the only features to express my astonishment, looking at my half expression, he laughed. "My bad, just please use your sense next time" "You talk too much, we need to get going" he raised his hands in defense "Alright ma'am" I rubbed my temple smiling underneath my mask, my lips making some type of imprint beneath it

Walking there was pretty interesting, getting bombarded with questions about myself and not about my friends. It was the first time I'd actually had a conversation with someone outside my circle, and you know what? It wasn't half bad. I found myself laughing and smiling at something that wasn't some dumb cat falling and it was quite nice.

Approaching the door and opening it, I joked "Ladies first" "Oh so you got jokes now? Guess I'm rubbing off on you" Rolling my eyes whilst walking inside, he wiped away an imaginary tear entering the store behind me. Taking a quick stroll through the aisles I saw Miles taking up some stuff too —some combs, wax, and a durag—

Shopping didn't go so smooth for me though, being stuck between three colours to choose from —1B, 30 and 350—."What's up?" Standing clueless, Miles came over to my area, positioning himself beside me, waiting for me to say something. Raising my hands with the braiding hair before slapping them on my thighs lightly, I complained "I can't choose" Taking the hair from my hands he started to put each one beside my head before speaking "You'd look like a doll in this one, go for it"

While he returned the hair back to their original positions except the one he picked —which was colour 30— I raised my eyebrows, internally questioning his choice of words before speaking up "you have such a smooth mouth don't you?" Crossing my hands as I gave him a mild, sidelong glance traced with amusement that turned into confusion when he placed his hand atop his head, biting his lip. "I woke up Chris Breezy, oh my God I'm the man" Mouth agape, I dragged a hand over my mask to stifle the laughter "Alright cool cool I get it, you spit lyrics like that. Get up" "shoulda known it's been that way, now let's go. We have more stuff to buy" He took two more packs of hair before we walked over to the cashier — the place where I had to find out how stubborn this boy is—

"Let me pay for it" "No, it's my stuff. I'm more than fine paying"

The cashier cleared her throat, annoyed at our 5-minute long bickering

"Oh sorry, here-" I shuffled inside my bag for my purse, completely oblivious to whatever Miles was doing "Here" "Thank you" I looked up hearing the cashier's words, completely shocked that Miles Morales, a 17 year old just handed the woman a black card. It must be nice.

Bagging the items he turned to face me, "See, I told you I'll pay" "Here, I'll pay you-" "No, think of it as.. a us becoming friends gift, plus we have more things to buy so save up"

Stretching my mouth underneath my nose I teased "Who said we're friends" he deadpanned while handing me my own bag with items "Don't play with me. I know your favourite colours, music, food, and more. I'm real friend material" I laughed at his reaction, not to mention his remix on the "real wifey material" part.

But he was right though, we had more places to be, taking out my phone to check the updated list we comprised together, glancing at the time, I cursed 4:48 PM. "Shit um, I really have to go home. Bye, and thank you" my words dragged themselves louder as I ran down the road waving at him frantically.

You hurried along your usual route back home, "Why the rush?" Well, the aim was to snag a 5 PM package. It might sound like a flimsy excuse to part ways with Miles knowing that girls would kill you in the armor of envy for him, but the package would be returned to facility if not claimed and who wants to wait months again? He'd understand. After securing the package you went home, fortunately enough it started to rain, the pattering of the droplets masking the sound of your attempts sneaking into your room to avoid any confrontation from your parents.

Usually when it rained you found the atmosphere peaceful— having been in a night gown with your bonnet on— but this time, it felt different. For some unknown reason you couldn't shake Miles off your mind—the sensual energy that radiated from him, his seductive stare he always wore or the husky laughs that echoed between you two— Everything about him was alluring, slowly drawing you in and you did not like it.

Miles, on the other hand didn't suppress his feelings, having to physically wipe the smiles and cut the laughter he created each time he thought about you. Ironic enough, he hadn't a clue what it was about you that had him this way. Shit, he doesn't even know how you look. He was sure of however, what it would take to even have a chance at holding your hand given the rumours that you've heard about him, but he was hell-bent on giving it a try.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Never Meant To Be

Beron Vanserra x Reader

Summary: an elite member of the society and a poor girl from the lower part of the town are destined to never be.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: this is a beron fic. i do not in any way support abuse irl, but i wanted to rite for him. if you dont like beron, please dont read 😭

also. BIRTHDAY GIFT FIC FOR MY BELOVED @fell-in-luvs 🥹❣️

(dividers by @tsunami-of-tears <3)

anywho. enjoy!!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Y/n paused midstep, curious eyes peering over the railing, trying to find where the sound was coming from. Hands tightened on the wooden bannister of the stairway, eyebrows furrowing. Maybe she should have brought a candle with her. The room was too dark for her to make out anything but the window in the far wall, lit up with the moonlight that spilled in, liquid and shimmery under the cover of night.

Breath escaping her lungs, Y/n descended the rest of the stairs, carefully tiptoeing so as not to wake her father sleeping on the floor above. By this point, she could recall the creaky steps from memory, and it was easy to avoid them. What she was more concerned about was bones lying around. Those sharp bones that flew around as her father butchered animals was the only thing Y/n was concerned about, really, considering she was barefoot.

Quietly, she made her way towards the window, slowly pulling open the drawer where she kept the candles. By the time her fingers wrapped around the waxy stick, her eyes had started drooping already. It hurt to keep them open, to the point she considered just returning to her room and ignoring the dripping liquid. But the area she lived in was poor, and the people here could not afford to waste resources. Water was precious, most of it being used up by the elites of the society, whatever little was left flowing down to the lower suburbs where Y/n resided with her father.

She brought out the candle, shutting her eyes tight before blinking them open again in hopes it would help her shake the fatigue that began weighing down her shoulders. Lifting her fingers to the wick was a task that seemed impossible, but she somehow managed to light the candle up. With that, she hurried towards the faucets in the kitchen, squinting. Sure enough, water dripped from the tap. A breath escaped Y/n as she reached her hand out, grabbing the handle and twisting until the water stopped dripping.

She turned, wondering if she should take the candle back to her room.

Whack.

Y/n blinked, wincing. What was that? She made her way back towards the window, peering out. As her gaze wandered out towards the street between the crowded homes, her eyes narrowed. A group of what looked like… higher up males messing around.

Scoffing, she turned away, ready to just go back to bed.

Alas, the males had other plans for her as the moment her attention flitted away, the sounds of howling and loud, obnoxious cheers reached her ears.

Pompous snobs. Rolling her eyes, Y/n decided that her father waking up because these boys who lived on their daddy’s money thought it’d be funny to be loud in the night, when everyone was sleeping, was not worth it. Her father was always so tired, and the few hours of rest he got were precious.

She yanked open the window, leaning her head out. "Hey! Shut it!"

The four males turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised. They all looked young, maybe around four hundred years old. They had expensive looking embroidered jackets on, their hair either slicked back or pulled into a ponytail.

"Oh? And what will you do if we don’t shut it?"

Jaw clenched, she studied the males. Two of them had dark hair, blue eyes, and the build of a teenage mortal. Possibly more into studying arts and literature than being a warrior. One had long, flowy blond hair, his eyes hooded and green like the skin of a toad.

That thought brought satisfaction to Y/n.

The one who looked the oldest among the fae, the one with short length auburn hair, stared straight at Y/n, no emotion on his face. The others had sneers and taunting smirks plastered on their faces, but not this one. He stood stoic, his eyes fixated.

She stared back at him for a few moments, unable to look away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she somehow knew him. That she was supposed to know him.

But then he turned away, dismissing her. She stared at his back in bewilderment, her temper rising, sleep long forgotten.

Who did he think he was?

She wanted to call him, demanding an explanation. But that would have consequences, and neither she nor her father could afford it. Not to mention that if any of these males were a part of the high lord’s court, it would mean a death sentence or banishment.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/n retreated, blowing out the candle and shoving it back in its drawer before she stomped her way back to her room.

Y/n was mad because of the males behaviour, but more than that, she was mad at the fact that she was so bothered by the red headed male turning away from her, like she meant nothing. Like she was less than the dirt on the bottom of his boots.

Fuck him.

Sleep evaded Y/n for the rest of the night, her mind too busy trying to dissect her reaction to the male.

It was unusual for her. She never really cared for what people thought of her, having learned long ago not everyone would be nice to her all the time. But this male. He stayed on her mind, refusing to leave.

Morning came earlier than it should have. And with the first rays of the sun came her father’s booming voice, yelling at her to stop sleeping and to get her ass moving.

It grated on her nerves, and she had half the mind to yell back at him. But she pulled herself together, donning a simple dress. She did not help with the butchering, not really, but she did have to go out every morning to get some extra water from the creek nearby.

"Father! I am leaving!" She called out as she slid on her boots. A grunt was the only answer she got in return.

Early mornings were a precious time, for most of the people only started to leave their houses once the sun was higher in the sky. That meant that Y/n was all by herself at the creek.

Silence, cherished and peaceful, surrounded Y/n, only occasionally broken by the chirps of birds flying overhead in search of food for their younglings. The sun peeking out from behind the distant hills bathed Y/n in a soft warmth, warding off the early autumn chill. She was grateful for the sun’s loving embrace and its company as she settled down at the riverbed, the wet soil under her legs soft as she started to fill up her bucket.

Water gushed around her hand as she broke the water's current, filling up the vessel in her hand.

Crunch.

Y/n’s body locked up, her heart rising into her throat at the sound. No one should have been here. Not at this time. It was too early. Her instincts roared at her to get up, to flee. But she did neither.

She turned her head, glancing over her tensed shoulders to look for the predator that had decided to make her their prey. Because this was a predator, Y/n knew in her bones. Be it fae or animal, it was a predator.

Her eyes wandered, cautiously landing on the immaculately dressed male.

Amber eyes met her own.

Auburn hair. Amber eyes. Embroidered, expensive jacket over a silk tunic and tailored pants.

The male from the previous night stared back at Y/n, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

"Think I lost my way." He called.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. There was no way he didn’t follow her.

"What do you want?" Y/n questioned, getting her feet under herself, trying her best to not have her back facing him.

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Nothing, really." At her skeptical expression, he chuckled. "Did you have a good night of sleep last night?"

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Is that all you came here for?"

He took a step forward, grass bending under his boots. Y/n took a step back instinctively, a lump rising in her throat. Muscles rolled and moved to try and accommodate it, but swallowing did not help as he continued to come closer.

"No. That is not all." Y/n glanced behind her, realising she stood at the very edge of the bank. One step was all it would take for her to tumble back into the water, and she’d rather be yelled at than drown in front of him.

"I wanted to make it up to you."

Y/n blinked. "I… what?"

He smirked, barely inches between them when he next spoke. "Did you not hear me the first time?"

Blood rushed to Y/n’s face. Now that he was so close, she could make out the shadow of a beard on his face, like he hadn’t shaved in days.

"I don’t understand how you are going to get me back my sleep."

His head tilted to the side, animal like. "How old are you, little fawn?"

Her chin lifted, refusing to budge under the intense gaze of the predator. "Twenty three."

The corner of his lips lifted higher, and for a moment, Y/n could not help but stare.

Eyes flitted away after a moment, realising she had been staring. "Twenty three? You’re basically a child."

Muscles rolled in her neck, then she met his eyes. "And?"

He shook his head, leaning back. "Let me make it up to you, beautiful. Meet me at the town square at sunset."

She blinked. "Why would I do that?"

He smirked. Shrugged, his jacket moving with the movement of his wide shoulders.

Then he turned, and stalked away, leaving her gaping at his back.

What just happened?

She did not have the answer to that question, but she did know she was not going.

Quickly, she composed her thoughts and set to filling up her bucket again, already dreading the scolding she would receive from her father because she took too much time to return home.

"Was he at least rich?"

Y/n froze, her fingers curling tighter into the sponge she had been rubbing against the pot. "What?"

"The male who wasted your time this morning. Was he one of the elites?"

Cold eyes turned to look at the weathered butcher, his eyes fixed on the meat he continued to whack with his knife. But Y/n knew his attention was fixed solely on Y/n and her answer.

Blowing a collected breath out of her nose, Y/n turned back to the pot she’d been scrubbing. "Maybe. How would I know?"

He scoffed. "Don’t play coy with me, girl. Do you want to keep all his riches for yourself?"

Eyes wide, she turned back to stare at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"You cannot expect me to believe your lies. A male just approached you out of nowhere, talked a little, then walked away, with no ulterior motives in mind?" Y/n simply stared at his back, and he finally dropped his knife, meeting his daughters eyes. "He obviously wanted to do something with you. He either wants to marry you, or he wants to use you for one night. Surely you can’t be that naive?"

Huffing, Y/n placed the pot back in the sink, throwing the sponge next to it and washed off her hands, trying to calm down her rising temper as she watched the soap suds vanish slowly.

"I’ll be outside."

"Go wherever you want, girl, as long as I get my share of money!"

Her eyes closed, a frustrated sigh puffing out from between her lips. Deciding that she needed more than the fresh air outside her walk, she began walking towards the town square mindlessly.

Not realising that it was almost sunset.

The square was busy, filled with males returning home from work and people who just wanted to have an early start to their nightly activities. The area was so crowded that Y/n debated turning around, but the thought vanished when she remembered why she was here in the first place.

To get away from her father. Maybe sit with some older ladies and have a chat.

"Going somewhere?"

Y/n glanced over her shoulder.

The male from the river side.

Her eyes widened, realising what time it was. He simply smirked and stalked forward, the crowd automatically parting for him. He didn’t even seem to realise that there were people around him.

"You look surprised." He mused.

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe because I am?"

He chuckled. "You look like you’re in need of a distraction."

Y/n turned away. "Do I?"

He hummed. "I can provide a distraction."

She shot him an incredulous look. "No thank you."

She turned away, beginning to make her way through the crowd again. But… 

Maybe it would be a good idea to indulge him. At least for some time. Maybe she could even figure out why his nonchalant attitude bothered her so much.

"You know what? Humour me…"

A smirk spread across his lips, the first genuine expression Y/n had seen on him. "Beron."

Her brows furrowed. She knew she had heard that name somewhere.

There could be so many more males named Beron, She tried to reason with herself.

"Hmm. Let's see what you can do, Beron."

Being a four hundred year old heir was a hard job, one Beron excelled at. His father was a fucking monster, but at least Beron could forget about the asshole when he snuck out with the bastards who kissed his ass every chance they got. Beron knew that they did not really care for him. No, they just wanted a shiny title once Beron became high lord.

Beron never really considered himself a nice male. He knew he was going to turn out just like his father, and if he was being honest, he was fine with that fact. He had no interest in becoming a better person.

But then Y/n pushed her way into his life. Or maybe he simply dragged her in. All that mattered was her, and nothing more.

She was a shiny gem.

Beron was a dragon.

And he wanted her in his collection, no matter what it took. Beron would gladly take all the torture his father made him go through if it meant at the end of the day he would get to see her. Maybe fuck her. But she made him come alive. And for the first time in all his four hundred years of existence, Beron wondered.

Wondered what a family with her would look like. Maybe he would become a better man.

But if there was one thing Beron wasn’t, it was delusional. He knew it was all wishful thinking. She was a nobody, a poor butcher’s daughter from the lower clans of autumn court. He was destined to take over ruling the whole court. They were never meant to be.

But in the cover of night, within the safety of the four walls of his room and under his blanket, Beron let his thoughts run wild, letting himself imagine a world where his father was a better man.

Of course, his hope was dwindling down day by day.

Particularly after his run in with his father that morning.

"You summoned me?" Beron muttered, his eyes lowered in deference.

The high lord hummed. "Come in." Lungs expanding, Beron made his way to stand in front of his father. "I will save us both time and get to the point."

Beron blinked.

"The peasant girl you’re fucking. I don’t want anyone finding out."

His blood chilled, eyes flying to fix on the relaxed figure of his father. "What?"

The high lord snorted. "You think I am naive? dumb? Listen closely, Beron. You are most likely going to be chosen by the magic to be the next high lord. I don’t want you marrying a good for nothing peasant. Fuck around, sure. But if I were you, I would make sure she did not fall pregnant." He finally looked at his son. "Oh and, start preparing. I have set up a marriage for you which will be beneficial for everyone."

Nothing ever surprised Y/n. And if it did, she was good at hiding it.

It was a surprise to Y/n when Beron showed up at her house every day since then, but he was one of the elite families in the autumn court. So that meant he was never denied anything in his life, so it came as no surprise when he thought he was entitled to her time.

But what did surprise Y/n when she actually wanted to spend time with him. So she just went along with his plans, often spending time together sitting at the cliff sides, watching the sunset.

He just… pulled her in. He enchanted her, and she was grateful he did. He had bewitched her, body, mind, soul. And she never wanted to go back to what she was before he came along.

She was aware that their union was improbable. Maybe impossible. But no one could fault her for being hopeful.

The crisp autumn air swirled around Y/n as she made her way to the hut outside of the town's borders, invisible to the fae passing because of the cover of trees around it. Shivers wound up her spine, leaves crunching under her boots. She pulled the scarf around her neck tighter, already anticipating wrapping herself around her lover when she got to his secret home.

He had revealed the place to her late one evening, handing her the keys to it. Later Y/n found out he had brought the place specifically so the two of them could meet in peace.

Moments passed in silence, only broken by her steps and the movement of the trees, animals and spirits around her in the forest. She hurried on, eager to tell Beron about the kitten that had started following Y/n around the previous day, only slowing down when the wooden structure came into view.

Along with it came dread.

Why, she did not know.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, like even the wind was holding its breath.

Confusion dug its claws in, along with doubt and fear. Was Beron home?

The door creaked open, and she tiptoed inside, a resounding click echoing behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, she stopped breathing.

What happened here?

The whole interior of the house looked like a storm had been inside. Shards of glass, cutlery, plants, wood pieces littered the ground, a dark stain covering a small area on the opposite wall. Hell, even the dining table was upended.

Her heart slowed, then resumed its hard pace. "Beron?" The sound of the name was shrill, panic evident as she discarded the basket in her hand next to the door, running deeper. "Beron? Are you home?"

Crash.

And then silence.

The door to the bedroom was cracked open, and the closer Y/n got, she could hear heavy breathing from the other side of the wood. Steps slowed, air rushing in despite the barrier in her throat as she peeked inside.

The first thing she noticed was the blood.

A lot of blood.

Dripping from his fist as he stood there, staring at the shattered glass at his feet.

"B- Beron?"

Wild, primal eyes met hers, mad intent in them. Fear started to seep into her blood the longer she stared back at him. And if she hadn’t been watching him so intently, she would have missed his whispered words.

"I’m getting married."

Ice. So cold, so numbing, took over any other emotion in her body, overriding her senses.

"Oh," deep breath, "well. Congratulations then."

And with that, Y/n turned away, ignoring his incredulous laugh echoing through the hollow walls that surrounded her.

"Go on, run away! Everyone does."

His words followed Y/n all the way to her home, haunted her all night. That laugh, the crack in his voice, the emotions that ran rampant in his eyes. All of it kept her up. Pained her, dug its claws into her heart and ripped her apart from the inside.

It felt like someone had cut open her body and lit a fire to her organs.

And she deserved it.

She hurt all night long, the tears running down the sides of her face and back into her hair burned too, like acid. But growing up in the lower parts, she was used to ignoring all pains. That's what people did when there were things to be done.

Ignore the pains during the day, cry about it at night. But keep it all inside, don’t let anyone find out.

So when the sun’s rays broke in through her windows, she made herself get up. Got changed. Stared at herself in the mirror until she was sure there were no cracks.

And then she went about her day, ignoring the shards of her broken heart that poked at her flesh.

Just like she had ignored the shiny, golden string that tied her to Beron.

The females had been whispering. Everyone around Y/n seemed to know what was going on. She could not be quite sure what they were talking about, but from an overheard conversation between two housewives at the town square, Y/n drew the conclusion that the high lord had passed.

And the heir was going to take over soon. He was also getting married in a few hours in the sacred temple in the middle of the town, and anyone was free to come see and give their blessings. As Y/n had expected, her father jumped at the opportunity to even be breathing the same air as the elites.

Y/n knew he also wanted to go and see if he could find a male willing to pay in exchange for Y/n’s hand.

"Y/n! We will miss the wedding! Can you be any slower?"

Deep breaths. She reminded herself as she fixed her skirts, eyes fixed on the mirror. When she deemed herself fit to be presented, she turned.

Her father looked livid as he stood outside the house, and Y/n knew a tantrum was on its way. But to Y/n’s surprise, he turned and walked away, leaving her to run after him to catch up.

The air was unusually humid the closer they got to the clearing in the forest where every high lord had held important events.

It seemed like everyone had come to see the new high lord get married. Every few moments, an elbow would hit Y/n in the back, in her ribs. Anywhere, really.

It was by the time that she was sure that her skin was going to bruise that the high lord came into view.

And Y/n’s lungs turned into rock, refusing to expand to let air in.

Amber eyes surveyed the crowd, landing on hers with unnatural precision.

Eyes prickling, Y/n watched him glance at his bride, who nodded along to the priestess, before returning to her.

A silent, long moment passed. And then his eyes widened, shining with so much emotion. She had never seen him this bothered.

And finally, the empty, cold void that had been on the other side of the golden string that had laid dormant in her chest filled, light and fire filling her chest.

But Y/n turned her head away.

She was not someone he should have even talked to in the first place. She was far beneath his level. He would not forfeit his throne for her. And she could not forfeit the simplicity of her life for him.

They were simply not meant to be.

And the light that had just reached her slowly diminished, the life going eerily quiet. She knew she hurt him, but she could do nothing to fix him, even as her chest started filling with numbness, anger and resentment pouring in from the other side.

With one last glance, Y/n sprinted away, back to the little hut she shared with her father.

She would never be able to forget that look on his face. The hrd angels that seemed accentuated by the weeks worth of stubble on his jaw, the fury that seemed to age him another century.

But they were never meant to be.

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[lydscare]

ponyboy curtis dating/relationship headcanons

warnings/notes: ponyboy is a softie; no warnings 🙌 (pony is a little insecure, though)

a/n: yooo 😃, it’s been a hot minute; sorry school drama is being a b*tch right now and has been exhausting me from writing 😭 [why do guys gotta be so immature!?] anyways, “the outsiders” hyperfixation kicked in and made me write this, enjoy!!

reader is gender-neutral / my masterlist 

he’s a sweetie :))

he likes to calls you sunshine or hun

he LOVES taking you to watch sunsets. (he was probably watching one with you when he realized that he was in love with you–)

discussions with him can be so funny when taken out of context. they can go from goofy not too serious questions to an entire exsistensial crisis about the universe

“do crabs think we walk sideways?”

“...pony–”

he is the first to say “i love you”

being close to him allows you to get to know his witty (and kinda smartass) side. 

he also loves being able to make you laugh with any of his sarcastic remarks

“if mr. ray gives us another homework assignment i’m to go to dally for some help.”

*yn laughing*

*ponyboy trying to hide the proudest smile on his face :))*

pony loves, loves the sound of your laugh too

it’s just comforting to him :’)

i also think that after ponyboy comes out of his shell more that he’d 100% be the type to gossip (and never get caught) mainly stuff that he heard from two-bit, dally and johnny tho/tbh

y’all can communicate with no words, (it’s honestly sometimes pretty creepy); y’know through you eyes and facial  expressions and whatnot

he learns to read you really well. your body language and everything, so he’ll know that if you’re uncomfortable and he’ll try to get you out of whatever situation as soon as possible

he gets jealous a bit (he’s a little more insecure though) but he tends to wallow quietly in loathing, giving them the stink eye and what not

you go to his track meetings, just sitting on a bench nearby. he’s so happy that you’re there and supporting him :’)

if you cheer him on loudly tho, he will sink into the floor. out of embarrassment or just being overwhelmed by your love and support, who knows? 

if you guys are walking to his house later at night (or anytime, really) and a soc car drives up next to you guys, he’ll block you from their view so you hopefully won’t get catcalled. (in general he walks on the side of the street near the curb) 

if the group of socs does catcall you from their car or make you uncomfy he’ll tell them to shove off (protective boy fr fr)

also likes to kiss you all over your face

forehead kisses <3

passing notes in class

i don’t know why but i kinda feel like he’s insecure about his smile, so please reassure him that you love him whole :’)

he’s a great listener

ends up stealing a lot of you pencils because he’s always losing them 😭

sketches u <3

random deep talks at 3 in the morning 

recommending books and movies to each other

while he reads a book you recommend to him he writes little annotations of what he thought of the book (you do this for him also) 

has defiantely drawen both of your initials in a heart 

draws on your hands, lets you draw on his

he feels happy seeing you walk around with his little drawings on your hand 🥹

people honestly think that you guys are just really close friends; which is a  fair assumption, there isn’t too much pda with him/you probably don’t do anything too sterotypically couplely in public

he’s 14 (anyone who’s 17+ and reading this, 😐 wtf–) and you’re proably the first relationship he’s ever been in, so he kinda is trying to see how it goes + is always a bit afraid he might be overstepping (at least early on in the relationship)

pt.2 here cuz apparently i went over the word limit :'))

[pleasingsatellite]

liked by harryfan1, y/nfan2 and 25,840 others

harryandy/n Harry and y/n arrived in Venice today for the Venice Film Festival, looks like y/n is going to be his plus one! We can't wait to see them on the red carpet.

view all 1,930 comments

harryfan1 ugh he looks so rich are you kidding me???

y/nfan1 my favorite thing about them is they always look like they're going to two separate events

↳ harryfan2 you're so right, harry looks like he's on his way to some fashion event meanwhile y/n is holding ice cream looking like she's going to frolic

y/nfan2 ughhh need a y/n and Florence interaction so I can feed my delusion that one day they will be in a movie together

liked by harrystyles, harrisreed and 890,303 others

yourinstagram I feel like I'm sending my over dressed toddler off to his first day at school. Happy Brit's day! I'll be cheering you on from my table in the audience with the endless supply of champagne 🫶🏻

view all 5,339 comments

harryfan1 omg omg omg omg

harryfan2 he looks so good, the flower? the bare chest? the everything???? 😗

annetwist please remind him to drink water between his alcohol ❤️

↳ yourinstagram don't worry mama twist he's in safe hands

↳ harrystyles I told y/n and Gemma I'll have max 2 drinks.... or 5 if we win

jefezoff BEHAVE GARY

liked by y/nfan1, y/nfan2 and 45,594 others

y/nupdates y/n today at the Brit's reacting to Harry drunkingly confessing his love for her during his speech

view all 2,303 comments

y/nfan1 stop she's so cute she was so embarrassed 🥺

y/nfan2 I just know the minute he was running to the stage she knew he'd say something to embarrass her

harryfan1 he loves her so much are you kidding me

y/nfan3 "and to y/n, everyday I look at you and wonder how I managed to land such a hot girlfriend. Everything I do, I do with you in mind. Everyone give it up for the prettiest girl in the room!" 😭🥹😭🥹

��harryfan2 if any man said this about me I'd propose and jump his bones on SIGHT!!!!

liked by harryfan1, y/nfan1 and 29,234 others

harryupdates y/n is in the audience tonight at LOT Japan! Harry waved at her when he came out and sent her kisses and told security to check on her!

view all 1,845 comments

harryfan1 he's so cute and smiley tonight and now we know why

harryfan2 I need someone to love me as much as harry loves y/n fr fr

y/nfan1 omg I saw her at the show tonight she's so cute and was telling the people with her how jet lagged she is but didn't wanna miss the show so she had to drink a bunch of coffee before hand 😙

y/nfan2 my angel I love her I hope she stays in Japan with harry now that she's not filming anymore

harryfan3 someone threw a shirt at harry with a picture of him and y/n on the front and he said he's gonna wear it as soon as he gets off stage

↳ harryfan4 we're about to get a 1d gym shirt repeat again with this shirt I just know it

liked by harryfan1, y/nfan2 and 89,382 others

pagesix I just can't keep my hands to myself! Singer Harry Styles and actress y/n were caught in a very public PDA session last night during a street party in Japan. The couple who have been together for 5 years were spotted by onlookers but clearly only had eyes for each other. Ugh, young love!

view all 12,493 comments

harryfan1 heart stopped I've been standing in the same spot for hours 😫

y/nfan1 MY MOM AND DAD!!!

yourinstagram ...oops 🤭

↳harryfan2 girl that's all you gotta say!!! we know you don't regret it

↳yourinstagram not at all 😙

harryfan2 you know harry's in deep when the man who catches every camera doesn't catch the one recording his make out

↳yourinstagram it's more like the 6 highballs he drank 🫢

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 34,590 others

harrydaily Harry out shopping with y/n and friends today in Japan! When fans mentioned the kiss harry and y/n just laughed and shook their heads

view all 3,084 comments

harryfan1 that man regrets NOTHING

↳harryfan2 I mean would you lol

harryfan3 I'm so happy harry and y/n finally feel comfortable to be so open with their relationship

harryfan4 he looks so fine ugh that post pubic makeout glow

harryfan5 I know Jeffery was loosing his shit seeing those pics and harry and y/n were just like...it is what it is

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 8,945,931 others

harrystyles I mean do you really blame me?

comments have been disabled

....hello.... the longest long time no see wow. tbh I just have not felt like even opening the Tumblr app since like mid-january and eventually just deleted the app but finally felt a little bit rejuvenated tonight. I've been trying to reply limit just how much time I spend on social media and trying to read more and have been but also miss just being on here and posting (I'm not saying I'm back to regular posts but will try and post when I can)

[aimportantsheep]

Some fun headcanons for Klaus, Porsha, Nooshy, and (since he’s my favorite) even more about Darius!

Klaus Kickenklober:

Perfectionist Tendencies:

Klaus has an immaculate routine—everything from his diet to his exercise schedule is planned down to the minute. If something disrupts it, he becomes hilariously irritable.

He spends hours perfecting his choreography but will never admit how much effort it takes. He’d rather people think it comes naturally.

Hidden Passion:

Secretly a fan of vintage musicals but acts like they’re “beneath him.”

Loves tea more than coffee, but drinks coffee in public because it feels more "refined."

Unintentionally Funny:

Klaus’s bluntness often makes people laugh, though he never means to be funny. He’ll say something completely serious, and everyone will assume it’s a joke.

He’s bad with modern slang. Nooshy once said “slay,” and he thought she was being literal.

Porsha Crystal

Social Media Queen (obviously):

Porsha has a massive following online and posts daily updates about her outfits, rehearsals, and random thoughts. Her fans adore her chaotic energy.

Unpredictable Talent:

She’s surprisingly good at skateboarding. Nooshy taught her a few tricks, and now she insists on bringing her board everywhere.

Can do makeup perfectly in under five minutes, no mirror required.

Heart of Gold:

Despite her spoiled upbringing, Porsha genuinely cares about her friends and will defend them with her whole heart.

She’s the first to cheer someone up when they’re down, often with wildly over-the-top ideas like throwing a surprise party.

Quirky Interests:

Loves conspiracy theories and has a whole notebook dedicated to researching them. She swears aliens are real.

Collects novelty mugs and insists on drinking her coffee from a different one each day.

Nooshy:

Street Smart:

Knows every shortcut and hidden gem in the city. If you’re lost, Nooshy is your go-to guide.

She’s amazing at bargaining and can talk her way into getting almost anything for free.

Loyal Friend:

She has a protective streak, especially with the younger cast members. If someone messes with them, she’ll show up ready to throw hands.

Hobby Enthusiast:

Has a surprisingly good singing voice but keeps it to herself, claiming it’s “not her thing.”

Even More Darius Headcanons!!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🥹🙏

Center of Attention:

If Darius walks into a room and no one notices, he’ll “accidentally” drop something or hum loudly to make sure they do.

He tries to act unfazed when he’s complimented but secretly thrives on the praise.

Artistic Side:

Loves sketching but is terrible at it. He’ll show Louisa (My oc) his attempts, and she’ll have to stifle a laugh while complimenting his "abstract" style.

Writes overly dramatic song lyrics in his downtime, but most of them never see the light of day.

Surprisingly Messy:

His home is the perfect mix of luxury and chaos. Expensive furniture? Yes. Clothes and scripts strewn everywhere? Also yes.

He has an organization system that makes sense only to him, like keeping his socks in the kitchen drawer because it’s “convenient.”

Hilarious Vulnerabilities:

Gets grumpy when people don’t laugh at his jokes, even though they’re sometimes awful.

Dynamic with Louisa:

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

He’d be the type to tease Louisa constantly, but the moment someone else does it, he’d shut them down with an intense glare.

If Louisa’s ever upset, he’ll do anything to make her smile, even if it means embarrassing himself.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nero Rose || Mob!Steve Rogers

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Detective!Reader

Warning: None

Words Count: 1,539

Summary: She has bad blood towards the famous gangster leader called Steve Rogers. With his influences, he sent her to the outskirts city. Then one day, you received a called that said Steve Rogers wanted to talk to you. When you come back and meet him again, something terrible happens. 

This is the story of the enemy-to-lovers.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

A crowded street, sounds of car horns, smell of piss. All the little things made you miss New York.

It's been 8 months since you left the city. It wasn't your choice to be exact. You left because the head of the police demoted you from detective to traffic police. 

You want to protest but it's impossible since your opponent is the powerful mob in the city. 

Steve Rogers is the king of the mafia. His power in business, politics and network in the underworld made him unbeatable. No one can bring him down. 

Until you did. 

You found the drugs and weapons that connected to Rogers. You got him good. And the media and citizens also support you. 

But you have no support when it comes to law and politics. The almighty Steve Rogers has given money to the judge and governor that could give them a third family. He also paid the best lawyer. 

In the end, he only spent 3 nights in jail and went home. While you got sent to the outskirts city. You hate your boss and everyone. It took a while for you to accept the new life you have.

When you started to let it go, you suddenly got a call from the chief of police. 

-Flashback Start-

He said, "Steve Rogers got stabbed."

You don't understand what's the point he told you this "Cheers for me. You want me to attend his funeral? I will wear white."

"He's still alive."

You scoffed "Too bad."

"He's a victim but he doesn't want to talk. He said that he only wants to talk to you."

-Flashback End-

That's why you return to New York. You want to see the look on his face, being pale and weak after getting hurt.

But before that, you're going to buy flowers. A gift for sick patients. You picked a perfect one for him. At the flower shop, you pointed at one flower. "I want that one."

The shop employee is an elderly woman. Her name is Sienna. You've known her since you were a kid. She's a joyful and funny grandma. 

Sienna raised her eyebrows and looked at the flower you chose. She picked the flowers one by one. "That's an odd choice to visit a sick person. It means 'You're dead to me.'"

You smirked "Is that what it means? Even better." 

You gave her the money after you received the flower bucket. "You're the best Sienna. I'll see you tomorrow."

She gave a warm smile "Bye, Y/N ."

You arrived at the hospital and immediately saw one of his trusted right hands. Bucky Barnes. He's standing outside while smoking. 

He put out his cigarette when he saw you "Detective Y/N."

You rolled your eyes "Fuck off. Where is he?"

Bucky scoffed and brought you to the VIP room. Before he opened the door, you could hear people talking, and laughing from inside the room. 

When the door got open, and you walked inside, everyone turned silent and looked at you. All of them are wearing black suits. 

8 months without seeing any mafia made you forget that you just entered enemy territory.

You gathered any courage that you had and walked towards the patient. You expect Steve to be pale, weak, and lying motionless on his bed since he got stabbed.

But your expectations betrayed you. In front of you, Steve Rogers is sitting like a boss with a half robe opened that shows his torsos tattoos. His hair even got combed to the back. He doesn't look sick.

"Aww, you bring me a gift. Thank you detective Y/N."

There it is. He always finds a way to make you angry. He knew you're not a detective anymore. You hate to admit it, even though he's a jerk, gangster, and narcissist. His face and his body are your type. 

Many fish in the sea but why do you have to like a man like him?

You clicked your tongue and then gave the flower to him "I ordered this for your funeral to be honest."

"Thank you doll." He handed the flower to his subordinate. "Did you buy this from the Sienna flower shop?"

"How did you know?"

"From the wrapping paper, the ribbon. I'm her loyal customer." He winked at you.

Well, that's something you learned from him. Perhaps he bought flowers for his girlfriend. 

You cleared your throat then grabbed a note and pencil from the pocket of your leather jacket.

"So what kind of person would dare to stab the gangster leader? That culprit must be crazy or a serial killer."

Suddenly the room turned quiet. Everyone is looking at you, including Steve. 

"You're right. Not even my rival dared to pick a fight with me. I could feel it. It's not them."

You crossed your arms "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"Since you left the city is not safe anymore. See? I got hurt. And, perhaps I missed the time we spent together."

You gritted your teeth. Geez, his words could make anyone misunderstood. The moment you spend with him is at the court or police station. 

The police station became an event. Paparazzi is always there, the media, he even invites a private chef to bring his lunch and dinner.

When you interrogate him, he always has wine beside him. It's impossible to make him stop since he got the best lawyer Matt Murdock. The famous lawyer who defends crooked people and always wins. 

You should've known that you have lost. 

"Enough with the jokes. What do you want?"

"I'm offering you a chance to come back. I want you to investigate my case."

"Why?"

Steve tilted his head a bit  "Because… I don't know. Maybe because I like playing with you."

You raised your voice "So you made me fly 4 hours to come here just for this?!!!"

Steve nodded. 

Oh, how he loves to see you being mad. That's his plan from the beginning. He still holds the grudge for you to make him stay in jail for three nights. 

-Flashback Start-

Steve was furious for sure when he got the letter from the court. He is the mobster leader in the city. How come a newcomer detective like you has the guts to put him to jail?

The audacity of ungrateful people. What's the point of bribing the police every month? They should've put a good leash on their member. 

Every second and every minute all he can think about is what he should do with you if both of you meet. Quick death or slow death. 

But he thinks of another plan when he finally meets you face to face. You're a new sheriff in the town. He wonders what kind of brilliant mind you have that made you able to catch him. 

When you interrogated him, you were fierce and fearless. Even the chief of the police told you to calm down but you wouldn't listen. 

Since that moment you got him interested. 

-Flashback End-

You suddenly stood up and sighed "If I had my gun, you would be bleeding right now."

"Is that a threat detective? Because I'm scared."

Bucky shook his head by looking at both of you. He turned his head to watch the TV. He widened his eyes when he saw the headline news. 

He turned up the volume "Steve, you should see this."

Both of you stopped arguing and looked at the TV. 

"Breaking news. Another stabbed victim at the well known flower shop called Sienna Flower's. The victim is a 77 years old female. Witnesses said the victim was closing the shop when she got stabbed. The paramedics informed us that the victim got stabbed on the chest and lost her life on the way to the hospital."

You gasped. "Sienna." You couldn't believe it. You just left the shop for an hour and something terrible happened. You lost your old friend. 

On your left, Steve only sees red. He clenched his fist. Sienna is a sweet old lady. His mother always went there and he always bought flowers from that shop for his mother.  

What kind of heartless person wants to hurt a kind person like Sienna? He will chase the culprit until the end of the earth.

"Boys."

"YES BOSS!!!"

"Gather everyone to check on that area. Everyone gathered all the information. I will kill that person by myself."

All his subordinates left the room after they got the order. 

After they left, Steve tried to stand up from his bed "Urgh." 

When he touches his left waist, you finally see his wound. It's still bleeding.

"Are you crazy? You can't move yet."

You're right. The stabbed wound was deep. If the painkiller runs out, this wound will be painful. The doctor told Steve that couldn't move his body freely for a week. And he doesn't want to get another stitch. 

Suddenly he got an idea. 

Steve leaned his body towards you and whispered in your ear, "Detective do you want to work together to catch who killed Sienna?"

You looked at his eyes. It never crossed your mind to work together with gangster leaders like Steve Rogers. But with his mafia connections, you could catch the culprits quicker. 

"Heck yeah."

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

[starsomens]

Do you have anything written somewhere that can help me sleep? Haha 👀

Im sorry i need my bedtime story (no pressure, ly)

-🥀

Okay uh…..righting the first thing that comes to mind

Hmmmmmmm this may be more fluff than the last smut ! Hopefully this is up to par 🥹

“….then Nick said I ain’t doing that shit again” you both let out a hearty laugh as you both walk down the side walk. At times you both likes to take a lil night stroll. Talk everything out, have a laugh, take some pictures and just enjoy the silence of each other company.

“I love when we just have our little talks” he smiles bringing your into his side as your both stumble on the concrete.

“Yeah me too, it’s so peaceful and just…I don’t know gives me a sense of calm, with you of course. His phone dings, and he looks at the screen and his eyes widen

“Everything okay Noah?” You ask as you make the turn on your street.

“Yeah just fine, Nick just finished something I ask help for” he said purring his phone into his pocket. You walk up your driveway and to your door. As Noah unlocks the door, he takes the keys out and he stops before opening the door. He looks at you and doesn’t say anything at first.

“Non what’s going on?” You ask him knowing something was up.

“Nothing I swear…I just….im so glad we’ve been togehther this long..you know?” He smiled at you gently and playfully punched your jaw “come on I got something inside for you” he motioned for you to open the door. You still didn’t get what he was getting at but you opened up the door slowly and look down the entryway.

A trail of ross petals, and some candles lead you through the house. You jaw fell open, completely taken away and you had no words. You look back at him and he motions with his hand to follow them. You slowly step over the petals and look around at the house. Your pictures were set up from the start of your relationship to where you were currently. Your heart was racing out of your chest, your eyes were brimming with tears. Noah walking behind you with a smile on his face watching your reaction.

The trail finally leads to the back door where a sign was stood up with the one question many people wait to hear

Will you Marry me?

You just couldn’t believe it. You were panting without even realizing. You turn around looking for your boyfriend, who stood much closer to you. His smile and eyes were soft and warm in the light of the candles.

His hands trace down from your shoulders to your hands. He gives them a squeeze and rests his forehead on yours.

Instead of just talking he whispers

“Y/N….you’re everything I could want and ask for in my future. I don’t need 100 people to see me do this…I just need you to remember this for 100 years. I love you, more than I could say to you in words. I want to wake up to you everyday, make songs about you, sing to you, dance with you and love you.” You sniff at his words feeling your heart clench at his emotional expression “baby….princess. Y/N? Marry me?” He asked looking deeply into your eyes. You couldn’t form words knowing they would come out jumbled. You nod your head and let the tears fall freely. His arms finally wrap around your and lift you off the ground, lifting you off the ground. His hands cup your face and he deeply kisses you. Taking your breath away once again. Your head was completely in the clouds you nearly missed the audience you had.

Behind him came claps and cheers came out from the darkness. The rest of the guys had helped to set things up while you went on your walk. (You really owed them for this one) Bryan had his camera capturing the intimate moment. Jolly had lit the candles with folio, and Nick laid out the petals and pictures.

“She said yes didn’t she?” Folio asked

“Yeah she did” Noah answers hold you close to his body

“Well, we spent all that time picking ring, put it on her!” Jolly laughed. He reaches into his pocket and turns to you again. Giving him your hand he slips on your now engagement ring, making it absolutely official.

“Guys, thank you again, I really appreciate it” he thanked his friends for helping with the arrangement

“You know we got you, but it does mean we want some good dinner too” Nick chimes in making everyone giggle

“Hey it’s no problem. Dinner on me, we’ve got something to celebrate” he kisses the crown of your head, knowing soon you’d be Mrs.Sebastian

[mqsi]

hello! id like to request a angsty pedri fic! you're a huge pedri fan and you finally get a chance to meet him in person, but he just turns out to be a massive asshole. that wouldn't be a problem if you just didn't run into him everywhere you go.

i really like the last pedri fanfic you wrote (the one where he makes an insult and goes too far) so can this fanfic also have something like pedri calling the reader an annoying pest (something like that) because they keep running into each other when they both least expect it. your writing is absolutely beautiful btw, keep up the amazing work!

Hii,thank you sm, I’m glad you liked it! 🥹💞

I trully hope Pedri would never do this cause omg this was hard on me to write

——————————————————————————

You were a big Barcelona fan, especially of a certain midfielder. You attended quite a few games at Camp Nou but was never in a situation to actually meet Pedri. But today was your lucky day when a well know green car passed you and soon made a stop. Other people recognized it as well and started making a crowd around it but you were quick enough to come in time.

Pedri lowered his windows, obviously not in the greatest mood. You handed him the phone to take a picture and just as you were about to slip from the crowd, someone pushed you and you dropped the phone into his car.

“What the hell?” He said, irritated.

“I’m so sorry, someone pushed me” you said, blush covering your cheeks. He basically threw the phone back at you, glaring at your direction. You ran off as soon as you grasped the phone. You were a bit disappointed about the encounter, you expected to be met with a cheerful Pedri, like the media shows him to be. You told yourself that he was just not in the mood and that you should be lucky to even meet him.

Little did you know that your favourite footballer will make your love for him bitter. Just two days later, as you were walking with your little cousin, you ran into Pedri’s car again. Your cousin screamed from excitment, pulling you towards the car so he can take a picture. As you slipped trough people, you saw Pedri was in a much better mood today, all smiles. But as you came to the window, his demeanor suddenly changed. He scrunched his eyebrows and you hesitated for a moment,before asking him to take picture with your cousin. He did but a frown never left his face. After that, you really started to think that it has something to do with you.

Things just started to get weirder. As you were sitting in the passanger seat, driving with your mom, you stopped at the red light. You looked to your right, only to be met with Pedri’s eyes. He looked at you, almost in schock that it was you again. You quickly turned your head, an uneasy feeling in your stomach. The next time it happened, you just wanted to cross the street but the car that stopped to let you pass was none other than Pedri’s.

Pedri and Gavi were sitting in a car, when Pedri practically jumped.

“Do you see that girl in a white hoodie that’s just now crossing?” He said, turning to look at Gavi. He lifted his eyes from the phone to look at you. You made eye contact with both of them. Gavi seemed completely uninterested while Pedri had a signature annoyed expression whenever you ran into each other.

“What about her?” Gavi asked.

“I can’t get away from her! I don’t know why we run into each other every fucking day”

Gavi just shrugged, not quite understanding why Pedri was fussing over this.

You were already completely devastated by the fact that you were annoying to Pedri, for no reason as well. But today was the last straw, it crashed you down all the way. You were in a rush, on your way to meet your friends in a diner by the beach when you bumped into someone on the crowdy Barcelona sidewalk.

“Woah, my bad-“ you said but words died out and mouth went dry when you saw it was in fact, Pedri again.

He completely stopped in his tracks, looking at you with so much irritation in his eyes.

“Have you dropped a tracker with your phone in my car or what?”

“I’m sorry, it’s really not intentional, I can’t control when we run into each other” you replied, just wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Pedri let out a sarcastic laugh, looking to the side for a moment. When his eyes met yours again, your stomack twisted.

“Then try to avoid me. It’s fucking annoying. You’re fucking annoying” he said and walked off. You stood there for a moment, a tear rolling down your cheek. The words carved themselves into your brain.

———————————————————————��——

[shippingmyworld]

Do you have any more YouTuber AU ideas? (Cus I love them 🥹)

Youtuber!El Tigre & Youtuber!SpongeBob AU!!!

Danny post here; Jimmy & Timmy here

sorry anon i totally didn't save this ask as a draft and forget about it for a few weeks

Manny and Frida run a controversial prank channel with the most clickbait titles known to the internet. Their content ranges from standard pranks like egging or toilet-papering the houses of the local villains to overcomplicated heist-like plans that they spend 20 minutes hyping up things like breaking into Sartana’s house and stuffing her guitar full of exploding burritos. 

Frida starts coming up with most of their content with Manny being the yes man, but their popularity is really thanks to Manny overselling everything he does. They also live-stream like 90% of their content and upload the raw footage to a second channel pretty much the moment they are done filming.

They never read or respond to anything in the comment section, since every video generates a massive flame war between people that think Manny and Frida are the funniest duo on the planet and people chastising them for their reckless behavior. Honestly they’re really only uploading videos for themselves because they wanted to try and generate some extra money from the ad revenue and ended up just rolling with it. 

Their favorite content to make are things they title as ‘Social Experiment’ videos (but in reality it’s just how they’re trying to get away with all their tomfoolery). Their first experiment was when Frida pretended to be a really bad street performer while Manny heckles her. If nobody steps in to stop Manny after a few songs, he will ‘steal’ her guitar and see if anyone tries to actually stop him. 7/10 times though Frida's performances are so bad (she sing tone deaf on purpose, play wrong notes, etc.) that people actually cheered when Manny took the guitar.

The most popular video on their channel however was from when they faked a zombie outbreak at the mall during the holiday season. Manny ran screaming into the food court while Frida was clinging to his back, having pretended like she just took a massive bite out of his neck. They went over the top with the makeup and theatrics (there was fake blood and gore everywhere) and ended up accidentally triggering a stampede of panicked shoppers. 

The only reason they didn’t face any repercussions for that stunt was thanks to Frida pulling the “My dad is the Chief of Police” card. But the content creator side of Frida’s brain thought it would be really funny to film a “We spent the night in jail” video and so Frida swiped her dad’s keys later and they pretended that they actually did get arrested. 

After the zombie prank they had to dial it back a bit (or risk their parents pulling the plug on everything) and stuck to just pranking random people or small groups on the street. They start filming more ‘harmless’ stuff like sneaking up behind people on the phone and popping a balloon or pretending to be blind and ‘accidently’ hitting people in the shin with their walking stick. 

The ‘harmless’ stuff wasn’t doing the same kind of numbers as their previous videos and they needed cash (neither one of them has impulse control when it comes to the money they make), so they went back to their usual stuff of pranking the local villains (and occasionally other superheroes to mix it up). However, because they live-stream their stuff, most of the local villains are subscribed (with notifications turned on) and end up crashing Manny's stream if he's trying to break into their house.

SpongeBob’s content has absolutely no rhyme or reason to it. He basically treats his channel as a video diary. His content will range from multi-hour long ASMR-like videos titled “A Peaceful Stroll Through Jellyfish Fields” or “Frying Patties at the Krusty Krab for 8 hours” to videos of him stanning Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy with Patrick or rating snail food based on Gary’s reactions.

Everyone assumes that he’s just using a really high-quality motion-capture Vtuber model and that he’s committed to the roleplay of his Vtuber living in a fictional city called Bikini Bottom at the bottom of the ocean.

He also has several “Home Tour” videos of his pineapple and people are constantly trying to figure out the internal layout because the footage is always cut and edited to hell with so many stylized transitions it looks like a PowerPoint presentation. Anytime there’s footage of SpongeBob actually walking from one room to another people start to go crazy. He once did a livestream where he walked from the kitchen directly into the study and the live chat started freaking out because that door didn’t exist three months ago??? And if this leads to the study then where the hell is the door to the living room? People swear that the staircase to the second floor of SpongeBob’s house is alive and moves around every video. 

The comments section goes wild whenever Squidward makes an appearance. SpongeBob's followers absolutely LOVE him. No joke, there's fan merch and fan art of him out there. Chat's filled with stuff like #mood or ‘he’s just like me fr.' The funniest part is that Squidward has zero idea that his cult following even exists because he’s written it off as another one of SpongeBob and Patrik’s stupid antics. In fact, the first time he heard SpongeBob say the word 'Chat' Squidward told Mr. Krabs that there was a gas leak that needed to be fixed.

(Also Plankton is subscribed and immediately downloads every video that’s uploaded just in case there’s a hint of the Krabby Patty Formula in any of them.)

[celandinee]

. °0 . Mr. Big League!

IN WHICH…

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ revisiting your old high school means running into the boy who made it to the big leagues, the boy who had totally captured your heart.

—

word count - 1.2 k

warnings - swearing

notes - i’m so delirious and tired. pls don’t mind any mistakes 🥹 also i ❤️ mei with my whole heart

—

It had been 4 years since you graduated from Inashiro Industrial, 4 years since you left West Tokyo to further whatever dream you had when you were a third-year. Now here you were, stepping back into your old high school after all of this time. Revisiting all of your old memories.

After visiting the teachers you missed and wandering the winding hallways, your heavy eyes and constant yawning urged you to grab some coffee. Thus, you found yourself at the steps of a cute cafe.

The bell hanging on the door chimed as you entered and the smell of coffee and baked goods hit you all at once. You glanced around the quaint cafe. There weren’t many people, save for one or two seated by the window overlooking the street outside, or the person reading a book by the fireplace. Plants hung from the ceiling, the brick walls littered with framed paintings— it was charming.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” a kind voice pulled you out of your thoughts; the owner of this voice being the worker behind the counter. She had an easy-going smile on her face as she waited for your order.

You realized you hadn’t even thought of your order prior to walking in. So, quickly scanning the menu on the wall, you gave the worker your order.

She tapped the screen in front of her before giving you the total and asking for a name, to which you handed your credit card over and answered.

“That will be right out,” she handed it back with a big smile.

Strolling over to the tables, you sat yourself down and tried to distract yourself with anything in view. Your gaze drifted from the elaborate drawings on the wall, which ranged from abstract to contemporary, all different yet captivating in their own way.

Being back in the city made you realize just how much time had passed since high school. Your time with the Inashiro baseball team as their manager was one that you cherished, and missed quite a lot. Spending your days out on the grounds, picking up loose baseballs and organizing scoresheets, your schedule was constantly busy. You missed the craziness of rounding up the boys and making sure they ate the snacks you and the girls prepared.

College life had hit you hard, the change of pace totally taking you by surprise. Yes, babysitting a team of high school baseball players was a grueling, time-consuming job— but college was an entirely different story. The load of work was laughable, and the deadlines were unbelievable. You could barely find the time to go out to parties, or any type of social event, with the amount of studying you had.

“Fancy seeing you here, manager.”

That voice was far too familiar. Whipping your head around and glaring up, you found yourself face to face with Narumiya Mei. The ace of Inashiro’s baseball team when you were a manager. The kid who was 99% of the time the cause of your problems in high school.

“If it isn’t Mr. Big League,” you hummed.

After graduation, Narumiya had landed a spot with the Yomiuri Giants as a pitcher in the professional league. Narumiya’s dream came true, and the team couldn’t have been happier. You think back on when you had first found out.

He had announced the news to the whole team during dinner with his mouth stuffed with rice you had nearly force fed him. The pause after he spoke was deafening, until everyone rose with shouts and cheers.

“No way Narumiya-san!”

“Can you get us free tickets to the games?”

“Great, now his ego will be to the moon.”

Of course, you were happy for him. Ecstatic even, but it made you realize that your futures would be so different after graduation.

After finishing up dinner, you ended up having Narumiya walk you to your dorm, not wanting to walk alone this late at night. Shoulder to shoulder, the two of you walked in silence down the pathway with the night breeze carrying you along.

Your relationship with the pitcher was difficult to put into words. He pissed you off significantly with his constant chirping and egotistical personality. Yet, his presence calmed you in moments like this when it felt like the star-speckled sky watched over the two of you, the moon lighting your path and the gentle brushing of your shoulders keeping you awake.

The both of you were able to forget that the pros waited for Narumiya, and college waited for you. Your lives would soon branch off from Inashiro and you would be on your separate ways.

But right now, it was only you two and the gravel pathway that crunched beneath your feet. It was the moon that had watched this scene play out many times— You and Narumiya sharing fond glances as he returned you back to your doorstep, hesitance in the air when you would turn away to open your door. The urge to speak what should not be spoken, to break whatever trance the two of you fell under every time you were in each other’s company.

“Congratulations, Narumiya-san.”

The screeching of a chair being pulled out pushed away the memory. Narumiya sat across from you at the table, blue eyes bright and cheeks rosy. He looked the same, though his hair looked more untamed and grown out, his blond locks brushing further down his nape and covering his forehead. Mei’s air held the same boyish-charm that had first pulled you in all those years ago.

“I didn’t know you were visiting,” he rested his cheek against his palm, staring at you shamelessly. “You should’ve texted me.”

The pout on his lips made you snort and lean in a hair closer to him.

“Sorry, I thought my message might get lost with all of your fan’s,” the corners of your mouth tugged into a smile. You missed teasing him like this.

You had considered texting him and the others from Inashiro, but you decided against it for whatever reason. Maybe you were nervous Narumiya would mistake your message for some fangirl’s, that he would skim over it with no care.

“Oh please, you’re acting like I forgot who you were. As if I could ever forget your scoldings during dinner,” he lifted his head from his hand and leaned in as well, a toothy grin making its way onto his mouth. He wasn’t wrong— you would smack his head during dinner when he wouldn’t finish his bowls of rice, accompanied with some harsh words.

“Besides, becoming a pro-athlete really hasn’t changed me. I’m as humble as ever!”

A laugh escaped your lips and your cheeks began to ache from smiling. Your face felt warm as you stared back at him, this feeling had long been dormant since you had last been around him. The way your heart beat against your chest made you want to cry. All of your feelings from high school came reeling back as the two of you sat inches apart across the table.

Narumiya held your half-lidded gaze, his head tilted downwards slightly and eyes peering through blond lashes. He was still able to captivate you with ease, much to your distaste. You opened your mouth to utter a word of retaliation when your name was suddenly called.

It was your order.

Standing up and breaking eye contact, you turned away from the seated Mei, ready to grab your order. That was, until a hand grabbed your wrist gently.

“Let’s keep talking,” Narumiya had rose and stared at you with round, puppy-dog eyes, “it’s been awhile.”

How could you reject his plea. No matter how hard you tried to resist, your heart would give in every single time to Narumiya.