#we simply do not have the time to take new clients!!!!!!!

[lizzybennets]

literally started working today at 9am and finished now (1am) with only a 2 hour break so i could have dinner and go to therapy (to cry over work with my therapist). a healthy lifestyle.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption

Can We Start Over? masterlist

“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”

You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.

“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”

And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.

The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.

You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.

.           .           .

You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away. 

You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.

You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.

When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.

You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica

You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!

You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.

You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.

It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.

.           .           .          

Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.

He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.

The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.

“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”

The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.

So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.

Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.

“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”

Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?

“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”

Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.

Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.

The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.

As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.

“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”

“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”

“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.

Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.

“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“

“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”

Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.

“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”

“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.

Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.

He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.

“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.

But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.

“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.

“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.

But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”

You stopped and turned to look at him in question.

“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.

You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?

“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.

“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.

“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”

Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.

“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“

“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”

What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?

But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.

“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.

Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.

You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.

When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”

You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”

You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.” 

Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.

“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.

Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.

You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.

“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.

“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”

You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”

“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.

Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”

You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.

Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.

You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.

“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”

You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.

You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.

He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.

Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.

You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.

“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”

“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”

“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.

“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”

.           .           .

“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”

You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.

You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.

But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.

“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.

You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”

“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”

Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.

“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.

Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”

Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.

.           .           .

You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.

But traffic is unpredictable.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.

“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”

You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.

And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.

When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.

“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.

“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”

You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.

You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.

“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.

You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”

“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.

He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.

After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”

Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?

You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual.  So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.

At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.

“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.

Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”

You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”

“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”

You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.

In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.

“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.

“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.

Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”

It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.

You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.

After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.

“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.

“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.

“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”

You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.

You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.

Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.

Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.

You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”

You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”

“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”

“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.

Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.

Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.

“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.

Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.

When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.

He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”

“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.

He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”

You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.

You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.

.           .           .

You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.

“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”

You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.

.           .           .

You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.

“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.

“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.

Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.

But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.

Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.

The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.

“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.

“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.

Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.

“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.

He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.

Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.

“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.

“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.

Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.

You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.

“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”

“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!

Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”

“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”

You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.

Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.

“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”

Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.

But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”

Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.

“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”

Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?

He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.

“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”

When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.

He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.

Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”

You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.

When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.

Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”

He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.

When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.

He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.

“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Part 3

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[driverlando]

🗞️ is that max verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that i am currently in or ??? OMFG it is him!!! he just bought handcuffs too…

Spotted: Max Verstappen’s Surprising Shopping Spree—Handcuffs and More!

In a shocking and unexpected twist, Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen was recently spotted indulging in some rather intimate shopping. Witnesses report seeing the Red Bull Racing star in a well-known Amsterdam sex shop, browsing a selection of adult toys and accessories. The surprise sighting has left fans and onlookers buzzing with curiosity and excitement.

The Unexpected Encounter

An anonymous source—who happened to be shopping in the same store—couldn’t believe their eyes when they recognised Verstappen casually strolling through the aisles. “Is that Max Verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that I am currently in, or ??? OMFG, it is him!!!” the excited witness tweeted. The sighting quickly became the talk of Twitter.

Verstappen, who is known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, seemed quite relaxed and at ease during his shopping trip. Dressed in a low-key outfit, the 26-year-old driver didn’t shy away from picking up some interesting items. Among his purchases, the witness noted, were a set of handcuffs—raising plenty of eyebrows and questions.

A Peek Into Verstappen’s Private Life?

This unexpected encounter offers a rare glimpse into the private life of one of Formula 1’s most private and focused athletes. While Verstappen is typically reserved about his personal affairs, this outing suggests he’s not afraid to explore new and adventurous aspects of his life.

The incident has sparked a flurry of speculation among fans and the media. Who is the lucky partner joining Verstappen on this adventurous journey? Is this a new relationship, or is he simply adding a bit of spice to an existing one? While the Dutch driver has kept his romantic life relatively low-profile, this public purchase has certainly set tongues wagging.

Fans React

As news of the sighting spread, reactions have been mixed. Some fans were amused and delighted by the revelation, taking to social media to share their thoughts. “Max Verstappen buying handcuffs and butt plugs? I guess we all have our hobbies!” one fan tweeted, accompanied by a laughing emoji. Another wrote, “Love seeing F1 drivers being normal people with fun sides! You do you, Max!”

Others were more reserved, respecting Verstappen’s right to privacy. “Everyone’s entitled to their personal life, even celebs,” one comment read. “Let the man shop in peace.”

The Shop’s Response

The sex shop, which is popular among locals and tourists alike, declined to comment directly on the specific purchases or the presence of high-profile customers. However, they did issue a general statement: “We respect the privacy of all our clients and are pleased to offer a discreet and comfortable shopping experience. Everyone is welcome to explore their desires in a safe and judgement-free environment.”

What’s Next?

While the incident has certainly piqued public interest, it remains to be seen if Verstappen will address the situation. Known for his focus and seriousness on the track, this playful and unexpected side of him has caught many by surprise. Whether this was a one-time visit or the start of a more open exploration of his personal interests, only time will tell.

For now, fans and followers of Max Verstappen will be left to speculate and, perhaps, see him in a slightly different light. This peek behind the curtain reminds us all that even the most celebrated athletes are human, with their own unique tastes and interests.

Stay tuned for more celebrity gossip and behind-the-scenes glimpses into the lives of your favourite stars. Whether on the track or off, the excitement never stops!

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟕𝐤

↬ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐃𝐃/𝐋𝐆 (𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝟎𝐦/𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥) 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

The buzzing of your phone on the nightstand wakes you up from your dreamless sleep and just as you're about to move around to turn your alarm off, you're reminded of the strong arm around your waist as it pulls you further into the warm chest pressed into your back.

It's only then that you remember how and who you fell asleep next to, a cheeky smile creeping up on your face as soon as the realisation hits you.

Jongseong is still in bed with you. On a weekday.

To your surprise, he's not only still in bed with you but seems to be peacefully asleep, something you're not quite used to when it comes to your hardworking boyfriend.

In the back of your mind you had hoped that he'd stay, especially after a night like yesterday's, yet for some reason you didn't allow yourself to indulge in those hopes, as you were too scared of them being empty yet again.

It doesn't take much longer for more images of the previoos nught to sneak into your head, but for the first time in your life you know you won't let them win no matter what.

You haven't fell asleep and woken up next to your boyfriend in weeks, there's no way you're going to let your anxiety and destructive brain take this away from you again.

There's so much to unpack about the whole situation about your brothers and the bodyguards, you know Jongseong will want to talk about, but you simply don't have the mental energy to waste on those men anymore. You've been fightem then alongside your mental demons for the past two decades and dor the first time in your life you just want to live a single day without thinking about them for once.

Of course this won't make them any less dangerous or threatening, but it will give you the temporary inner peace you need and mostly deserve.

So, determined to not waste any more of your energy on those stupid bastards, you let out a soft sigh and turn around in Jongseong's arms to bury your face in the crook of his warm neck, inhaling his sweet scent the way you did to fall asleep and enjoying every single second of this rare occasion.

Unfortunately you're very much aware of the fact that your second alarm is going to go off any second now as the both of you have to get ready for work.

"Jongie", you whisper against his soft skin and pull your head back to have a good look ag him, hating yourself and the universe for having to wake him up.

He hasn't slept longer than four hours ever since your trip to Jeju and you can't wait to basically kidnap him to a different city and just make sure that man finally gets the sleep him and his body need.

"Wake up, my love", you sigh and place a soft kiss on his chin, "we have to get ready for work."

The sweet sound of your voice gently pulls him into consciousness, something he has yet to get used to, especially after unintentionally depriving himself of it for so long. As your words slowly push their way through the sleepy fog in his head, Jongseong suddenly deicdes to adapt to a completely new routine just to wake up like this until his last day on this earth.

"We're both calling in sick", he suddenly grunts, his voixe deeper and raspier than usual, the sound so unfamiliar, it leaves you lightheaded and shoots a jolt of hot arousal right in between your legs.

"We can't just do that, pretty face", you say with a soft chuckle, hoping for the aching in your lower body to just disappear if you try to overplay it hard enough, "we have meetings and appointments with important clients today."

"Why not? I'm the CEO and owner of the company, they should be grateful I even considered giving them some of my precious time. They can wait a day or two."

Jay's words surprise you as much as they turn you on and you hate your body for betraying you like this. Today is probably just an exception yet you can't help but feel your hopes rising all the way to the sky.

You try to think of something to respond, but you're too mesmerized by the sight of a sleepy Park Jongseong. The way his hair is messily falling into his slightly flushed face, eyes hooded as they're getting used to the sunlight exposure, his pretty lips pushed into a cute little pout and his big hand gently caressing your back.

The longer you look at him, the more you fall in love with him and for a moment you forget whag the two of you were even talking about.

"Don't look at me like that, Baby or I'll make them wait a week or two", Jay teases softly, his hand now moving to your thigh as the other one remains underneath your waist, busy drawing random circles into your skin through the thin fabric of your camisole.

"Oh", you blurt when you realise how obviously you've been staring at him as embarrassment quickly takes over your body, "I'm sorry, Jongie, I didn't mean to. You just look really pretty when you wake up."

"My sweet little angel baby", Jay begins and pushes the bem of your camisole all the way up to your hips, exposing your bare thigh to his greedy touch so easily, "don't ever be sorry for eyefucking me with those pretty eyes. I fucking love seeing you so needy for me."

You're visible surprised at his response, forgetting that your boyfriend has always read your facial expressions as well as your bidy language quite easily and for some reason you can't help but feel even more embarrassed.

"What's going through that sweet head of yours, Baby? Why are you so hesitant?"

You nervously pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as a wave of shame overwhelms you, yet you can't really put a name on the reason behind it.

The past few weeks you've always been the one to initiate intimacy and after losing yourself in quite a few anxious thoughts the previous night, you can't help but let them win yet again.

You know Jongseong's been quite busy, nobody knows it as good as you do. However him not initiating anything these past few weeks has definitely made you feel anlot more insecure than you would like to admit, simply because it feels like he only does it for you and not because he actually wants it.

"I'm sorry for always being so needy", you whisper and bury your face in his neck, "I don't mean to push you so much."

Jongseong is flabbergasted, to say the least.

He's never expected this to be the reason for your change in demeaner and as the realisation hits him, he can't help but let okt a lighthearted chuckle.

"Oh, Baby", he sighs and reaches for your cheek to pull your face away from his neck and meet your glossy gaze, "do you really feel guilty for wanting me so often?"

"Yes", you don't hesitate with your response, too lost in the way he's looking at you with such sweetness and adoration, "you usually don't iniate intimacy and it made me realise that maybe you don't actually want me as often as I want you."

Yet again, Jongseong feels overwhelmed by your statement. Never in a million years could he have expected your thoughts to be as mean as this and as his eyes roam your soft face, his heart aches in his chest.

"And that's okay. I know I can be insatiable sometimes. I hope you know that doesn't mean I only want you for your body. You're so much more to me than sex, I just have a very high libido." Your voice is small and uncertain, filled with insecurity and self doubt, a sound so heartbreaking, Jongseong feels his chest tightening in despair.

"Come here, Baby", is the first thing your sleepy boyfriend replies before he pushes the blanket away from your bodies and guides you to straddle his lap.

You physically can't stop a tiny little gasp to leave your lips as you come in sudden contact with the hard bunge in Jong's boxer briefs, something you haven't felt this way in a lot longer than you thought.

It's not like the two of you hadn't fucked each other in the past few weeks, unfortunately there was never much time for any foreplay and it usually ended in a quickie which stilled your hunger for a few hours. Most of the time Jongseong made sure to have you fall apart on his fingers first followed by him doing just the right things with his cock to drive you into insanity. He also tried his best to give you just enough aftercare to help you regain your composure but you couldn't help but crave more. The lack of actual sensitivity in those moments was probably what resulted in your insatiable hunger for him and his touch.

Without missing a beat, you press your hands flat against his inked chest, caressing the soft skin and circling your hips without even realising it.

"My soft little angel girl", Jongseong sighs and starts kneading the soft flesh of your thighs in his hands, "I'm sorry for not talking to you about this more. Your silly little brain probably gave you such a hard time about this, didn't it?"

"Yes, Jongie", you sigh and look at him with needy, glossy eyes, a sight so pure, so beautiful, the young man has yet to get used to it's effects on his body.

"And is that the reason why you've been more hesitant about indulging in the whole Daddy thing lately, Baby?", he calmly responds as his eyes never once shift away from your face and where you feel like a kid being caught doing something they're not supposed to do, your boyfriend seems more than just amused by your responsive body language.

"I guess it is. But I promise I didn't do it intentionally."

"You're so fucking cute", is his instinctive response to your answer and with a soft sigh, you push your lips into a pout and let your hands find his on your thighs, absentmindedly playing with his pretty fingers to distract yourself from the feeling of embarrassment filling your veins.

"My Baby", Jay then begins, his voice slightly deeper as he notices the feeling of your wetness making its way through the thin fabric of your panties, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately and I promise you to make up for every sinfle doubt and bad thought I've caused you."

You're about to interrupt his little apology and reassure him, but Jongseong doesn't let you. He's determined to say what he's been dying to for the past fourtyeight hours and no matter how badly you want him to believe that his behavior is somehow justified and okay, he knows it's not and that's why he won't allow you to intervene. Not this time.

Before your brain can even process it, you find yourself on your back, your boyfriend casually moving to lay in between your legs. Jay's face is as close to yours as physically possible and his nose gently nudges yours before he places the most delicate kiss on your parted lips.

"I haven't paid much attention to you and didn't make any efforts to actively include you into my daily routine outside of work and that wasn't okay. Yet, I hope you know that from now on that's going to change", with every single one of his words, Jay pushes you deeper into the mattress until you can practically feel his heart beating against your chest.

"No more early mornings to work out and as little long days as possible. It took me a bit but I finally realised that I am the boss and I do have the privilege to cancel and postpone appointments to make time for my girl. It won't always be like that and at times I'll be at work more than I'd like to be but at the end of the day I'm always going to try my best to come home to fall asleep with you. Not after you."

Jongseong doesn't give you enough time to actually process his sweet words as he pulls you into a hungry kiss and allows you to lose youdself in the sweet feeling of comfort and warmth it comes with.

Just as usual, Jay's kisses are slow and sensual. At first. But the harder he starts grinding his hard cock against your clothed cunt, the sloppier and needier they become. It doesn't take much time for your usually so composed boyfriend to grunt and moan into your mouth, loving the way you swallow every single one of his noises.

"And please don't ever be sorry for wanting me so often. Touching you, being intimate with you, being the one to pleasure you – and everything it comes with, is a privilege to me. Knowing you want me so much is what keeps me sane, Baby", Jay looks at you with soft eyes and just as usual, the expression in his gaze matches his words perfectly. It's like he makes sure you can physically see how honest he's being with you.

"I need it, angel girl", he suddenly grunts and buries his face in your neck, "Daddy needs you to need him, Baby. It's everything I've been daydreaming about for all my life. To be needed, wanted and loved by my person. By you. Please, don't take this away from me."

You're hearing his little pleas and his sweet, needy request, yet you're brain is already too fogged up by all the arousal rushing through your body as the tip of his clothed cock hits your sensitive clit with every single one of his precise thrusts.

"Louder, Baby", Jay suddenly commands, the urge to hear your moans and whimpers overwhelming him after the both of you had to keep quiet the last few times you've gotten intimate.

"Please, Daddy", your response comes quicker and more desperate than you expected it to, but you're simply too far gone already to care.

"What do you want, angel girl? Use those big girl words for Daddy, I know you can do it."

You start nodding like your life depends on it, your hands find home in his thick hair as Jongseong slowly kisses his way down your neck and to your cleavage, sucking the skin into his mouth every now and then right before his hands grab the hem of your camisole and pull it over your head in one swift motion.

"There she is, my perfect little angel", Jongseong sighs and comes to sit up on his knees right between your legs.

"Please, Daddy", you whimper yet again, reaching for his hands to get him to just somehow touch your needy cunt again.

You subconsciously wait dor him to scold you for not doing as you're told, however you definitely don't expect him to land a harsh spank on your clothed cunt. The stinging pain sends you into the sweetest haze of pleasure and with your head thrown back into the pillow, you struggle to build a single rational thought.

"Good girls use their words when they want something", Jay says sternly, his eyes hooded yet filled with such intense hunger, you feel your juices drip out of your clenching hole the longer you look at him.

"I need you to", you're still hesitant but quickly realise that there's no way Jong's going to give into your little insecurities now, so without wasting any more time, you blurt out the rest of your request.

"Eat my pussy", you dig your nails into his wrist as the pain of his tight grip on your inner thigh has your head spinning like crazy, "please, Daddy. I need you to eat my pussy, wanna cum all over your face."

"There you go, that's my good girl. Was that so hard, Baby?"

Jay can't help but feel amused by the sweet look of embarasin your eyes as you look at him, lips parted, hair messy, legs spread wide enough to put your drenched panties on full display for his hungry gaze.

"Don't tease me", you spit and roll your eyes in faux annoyance, followed by desperately trying to hide just how flustered you are because of the breathtakingly beautiful smirk grazing his plumps lips.

"Now, that was a mistake, pretty girl", Jay chuckles and lets his fingers graze your inner thigh right before he lands another hard spank on your sensitive pussy.

"You know I'll just tease you even more if you tell me not to."

"Daddy, please touch me. No more spanks. Need you to touch me."

For a moment you're genuinely surprised by your lack of hesitance but then again it makes sense as all your senses are captivated by Park Jongseong's sweet scent, his touche and his taste lingering on your tongue like a drug.

Jongseong doesn't say a single word until bends down to push his cheek against your inner thigh, dangerously glose to where you need him the most.

The fact you're still very much wearing your now ruined panties is definitely not helping with your impatience.

"Beg a little more, pretty girl", Jay teases and pulls the soaked fabric to the side only to blow cold air against your sensitive flesh.

"F-Fuck", you're quick to arch your back in hopes of getting him to finally do what you've asked for multiple times by now, only for Jay to pull away with another row of soft chuckles.

"Aww, look at my Baby. You're so needy, angel girl. Apparently too needy to use your manners for Daddy, hm?"

"Please", you beg softly, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes and you tighten your grip on his thick hair, "please, Daddy. I've been waiting so long for this. Don't I deserve this?"

And that little rhetorical question is what has Jongseong halt his movements like he's jusg seen a ghost.

"Of course, princess", your boyfriend whispers with tiny bits of guilt gleaming in his sweet eyes, "of course you deserve this."

If your brain wasn't as clouded by the arousal, you would have had enough time to feel bad about using such strategies to get what you want but after barely remembering what his mouth feels like on you, you can't help but feel grateful it worked. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before either one of you can get out another word, Jongseong finally licks a long strip over the length of your soaked cunt followed by shameleslly sucking your sensitive kiss into his mouth and teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

The suddenness of his actions knock every last breath out of your lungs and with a loud gasp you push your hips further into his face, back arched and head thrown back with the loudest moan of his name.

It doesn't take much for Jongseong to completely lose himself in the sweet taste of your juices as he laps up every single drop, filling the room with loud sucking and slurping noises as well as his muffled moans the second he pushes his tongue into your tight hole.

You can tell how hard he's trying to maintain his composure but every time your gaze meets his, you realisd how far gone he already is. Eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, half of his face coated in your wetness as he digs his bails knto your soft thighs to keep your legs firmly spread for his hungry mouthy.

With every skill flick of his tongue against your hardened clit, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge, the taste of your sweet relief coating the entirety of your mouth and consuming your senses in the best way possible.

Not a single coherent sentence falls past your lips as the tension in your lower stomach increases and you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"Do it, princess", Jay suddenly grunts and lifts his hand up to land a row of hard slaps against your overly sensitive pussy, the stinging pain sending your brain into overdrive and your eyes into the back of your head.

"I can feel it, you're so close. Come on, cum for Daddy, Baby. Make me proud. Claim me as yours. Cum all over my fucking face like rhe perfect princess you are."

And maybe it's the way his deep voice so close to your cunt sends vibration through your body or maybe it's the way his thumb has made it its mission to rub firm circles into your sensitive clit or maybe, just maybe it's the way he's tamking to you, but regardless of the reason, the coil kn your lower stomach still snaps as soon as your brain has processed his words.

Your high washes over you in several waves, pussy clenching down around nothing as Jay has long taken his fingers out of your tight hold to watch your juices drip out of you as you cum for him. It takes you a moment to realise that your sight has blurred and you feel your ears ringing from the intensity of your orgasm, something you've only ever experienced with Park Jongseong before and have yet to get used to.

You have absolutely no idea how much time goes by until your breathing finally goes back to normal and when your eyes meet the sighg of your boyfriend's habdsome face still firmly buried in your pussy, you nnow exactly why it took you as long as it did.

"Up here, Daddy", you pout and push your hand into his hair to grab a fistful of the thick strands and make him look at you, "can you fuck me now, please? I need to feel you fill me up with your cum so bad."

Jay smiles lazily, still quite drunk on the taste of your cum on his tongue as he's missed it a lot more than he expected. He hasn't had time to eat you out for who knows how long and it's when you look at him with big eyes and parted lips thag he decides to make it part of his new daily routine.

Not a day shall pass by where he doesn't eat rhe sweetest pussy he's ever had or he'll be dammed.

"Sorry, Baby", he sighs and absentmindedly pulls his boxer briefs down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to your hungry eyes, "missed eating that pussy to much so i got a little dizzy. Don't think I'll last as long as usual so I might need some help."

You nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue, the excitement bubbling and boiling in your loser tummy as your cunt clenches in response to the throbbing of his cock in his hand.

"Be a good girl for Daddy and rub that pretty clit for me, hm? Wanna cum with you this time but I'm so sensitive already. It's been so long since I've had you like this, Baby."

"Yes, Daddy, anything for you."

Your sweet words of affirmation elicit the sweetest moan from your boyfriend's throat and you attentively watch the way his hips halt their movements for a moment in response to you.

To your luck, Jay seems a lot more impatient than he claimed as he's quick to rub the tip of his sensitive cock against the wet flesh of your cunt, coating his whole length in your juices right before he lines himself up with your entrance.

"Look at Daddy, pretty girl", Jong grunts and pushes his tip inside of your tight hole just enough to reach for your free hand and intertwine your fingers with his, while his other one finds his way around your delicate throat.

"I love you", are the first tjing to leave his plump lips the second he pushes ghe first two inches of his thick cock into the tightness of your pussy, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as soon as you start clenching around him.

"Relax, angel girl. We still have a few more inches to. Daddy needs you to relax so it doesn't hurt, yeah? Be good for me, Baby."

You start nodding impatiently, almost instinctively rubbing firm circlers into your sensitive bundle of nerves the way your biyfriend did it just a few minutes ago, knowing exactly how you like it and how to get yourself to the edge as fast as possible again.

Your body slowly gets rid of the last bit of tension when Jongseong bends down to press his lips against your, not caring about how soft or sweet the kiss is, but rather focusing on the taste of your spit coating the muscle of his tongue.

By the time he finally bottoms out, you can feel your breath hitching in your throat, the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim overwhelming you just as usual.

"So fucking tight", Jay whimpers into your ear, not awake or sober enough to care about the way he sounds, "you're going to make me cum so hard, Baby. Fuck, I won't last l-long, I'm sorry."

"No, Daddy, don't be", you're quick to reassure your boyfriend, pulling on his hair and öoving your hips to meet his little thrusts, appreciative of the way he's still giving you time to adjust to his impressive size, "am close already, too. Wanna cum with you, please."

"Yeah, Baby? Gonna make a mess of Daddy's cock and cum all over me like the good girl you are, right? Go ahead then, angel girl", Jongseong's voice grows raspier, deeper and more hoarse as the pleasure and meed for relief overwhelms his whole body in the best way possible, "cum for me. Claim your man. Show me what only you get to do with my cock."

It's those exact words which push you over the edge headfirst the second time wighin just a few minutes. Jay always knows exactly what to say, he knows how possessive you are and how much yoj love claiming him. Hearing him confirm your thoughts and wants so casually never fails to leave yoj completely breathless.

And as your tight cunt starts spasmkng around his iverly sensitive cock, Jongseong quickly buries his face in your negk with a loud moan of your name right as he cums in three thick spurts and coats the soft walls of your cunt in several shades of white.

Nothing but your joined heavy breathing and the thrumming of your heartbeat in your throat fills your ears for a good five minutes, Jong's cock occasionally twitching inside of you before the sensitivity becomes too much for the both of you and he decides to pull out with a soft pout on his plump lips.

You allow yourself to devour the sight of his flushed skin, from his cheeks all the way down to his lean chest covered in the prettiest shade of pink, his messy hair falling into his face and reminding you both of his need of a haircut.

"Shower or some more sleep?" Jay mumbles softly againsg dour lips and pushes the few strands of hair away from your pretty face to get a better look at you.

"We have to go to work, Daddy", you reply instead and earn youeself another roll of his eyes.

"Your boss doesn't feel very well so he wants you to cancel all of his appointments for today. He said he needs to have some one on one time with his beautiful girlfriend or he'll actually die in agonising pain."

His exaggeration has you both burst into a fit of laughter and without even thinking of protesting any further, you just pull him into your chest and enjoy the feeling of his breathing against your neck as you both allow yourself to take a whole day off of your regular routine.

Being girlfriend and boyfriend for a whole day and nothing but that.

Just this once.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and here we are 🤪 i know you guys probably expected smth else after the prev chap was sp emptional but i missed writing smut for them so ive been thinking about it all day and wanted to give this to you guys as 1) a little thank you for all the love ln strictly business and 2) as a was to apologize for all the heart reak in future chapters!🤕 thank you so much for everything babies, i love you so much. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!!💞🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @jseongies @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any immediate thoughts about core identity and autism?

I have a great, neurodivergent friendly therapist - bottom-up, somatic, all that shit that's supposed to be good for autistic clients. But I've been stalled for the last half dozen sessions over the feeling that I have no core 'self', that I am so much a mimic of people around me that my internal self has no core qualities beyond the immediate drive to survive and avoid demands and sensations.

It comes out as "I have no inherent value" (c'mon, no one does) and "I have no inherent moral drive, I just know what causes me pain probably causes others pain, and I am aware other people are different enough from me that I have to believe them when they say something causes them pain, and I must avoid pain for myself and others"

I've been trying to express to my therapist that core identity terms are maybe better couched in vocabulary for computer programs or robots, but it's difficult to adjust therapy speak into that even with a curious and agile therapist.

I have been thinking a lot about animals lately. Animals that are not humans have no "core self." They have no thoughts of self-worth. If you truly look into the eyes of, say, a squirrel or a turtle, you will immediately recognize a great, living void. They are a collection of survival instincts, learned responses, and reactions to the present environment that have some general pattern of constancy but which are ever-evolving.

They do not exist for any "reason," they just exist. No instinct that they have is false, even one that is mimicked or new. They have no morality, only reactions that propel them and follow a sense that is senseless to us creatures with minds that are forever narrating and judging. They just exist and that existence is inseparable from their present physical reality. The same is true of each of us, our minds only complicate it.

I think it is very compelling to be much like any other animal. When I am alone, or feeding my most primal hungers (when I am famished, say, or craving a drink or cigarette), I have no worries of whether I am being authentic or valuable to society or even if I am good. I simply experience feelings and cravings. Life is lived through experiences, as a consciousness that can take things in and do things that affect reality in turn. Life is not lived via our identity or even our beliefs. The universe is horrifically indifferent to what we aspire to be, or believe is right. Entire species exist only due to mating rituals that require murder or rape, and the thriving of one species often spells the doom of others or even itself. It is disgusting and meaningless, being an animal. But in that void there is such stillness and great beauty.

I have been able to access this dark-eyed feral side of myself more lately. I have been spending more time alone, no longer even trying to mask to myself as the kind of social, giving being I had convinced myself I had to be, if my life narrative were to be that I got well. I don't care about being well. Or even being good. Those terms are playmobil level human made up stupid. When I touch that void, and dwell in it, I can see that none of it matters and none of those human judgments are real, and that the fiction of my core self does not really exist at all. And I find it very peaceful.

Lately hard core bondage really helps me get there, mentally, as do long swims and long walks late at night. Conversations with the rare few who are not afraid of almost any thought also help me get there. Most of all I just need time and fucking silence. There are pictures of me lately where I can see an animal. Not someone posing or trying to manage an impression. In those few photos I can feel some unnamable emotion that is real. It is that animal void that exists in all things, that is the breathing of life into flesh.

Therapy, I have got to say, is the stuff of small minds. I don't mean you, I mean your therapist. Therapy can only process in individual personality units, which are a fiction, and it believes that problems exist to be solved through an optimization of the self. You need to be confident. Need to know who you are.

I have often written like that, forgive me for it. But problems do not exist to be solved, they just exist, and some things do not get better, and there really isn't a better or a worse anyway, there is just a vast ecosystem responding to things. A great void of life always teeming, always changing. Great loss and growth and change, violence and birth.

And so I am not surprised to hear your therapist does not get it. The detached view you take of morality likely frightens them. But that might mean you are on a far more compelling path than what they would desire for you, which is probably self-esteem boosting exercises and tidy scripts for setting boundaries with your parents. That stuff is fine. But expecting too much from it is like asking a can opener to explain the universe.

Thanks for writing.

[sempersirens]

the fig tree | rotten

pairing: therapist!joel x f!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. discussion of heavy and potentially triggering topics such as sa, self-harm, infertility, various mental illnesses, self-hatred and drug use. these topics are only mentioned and do not occur in real-time.

chapter summary: a twenty-something, seemingly lost cause, meets her match in the form of psychotherapist: dr. joel miller.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

updates: @sempersirenswrites

series masterlist

Maybe it was time to accept you were never as good as you'd always thought you'd been.

For four long years, you had spent most of your waking hours dissecting epic poetry and papyrology.

Still, the most your degree had done for you was rouse a satisfying disappointment from your mother’s side of the family when they realised you weren’t actually going to be that kind of doctor.

Not to say such in a self-deprecation; you hardly suffered from any semblance of an imposter syndrome. Your mother used to frequently remind you that you were far too vain to not believe in yourself.

It was more of a philosophical framework. Platonic realism. Knowing your muted beauty could earn you a free drink from below-average men who felt their trousers tighten when you addressed them through your eyelashes.

But it wasn't an obvious enough beauty for the attention of the men you imagined exchanging bodily fluids with between stops on the underground.

Besides, you had been a student of Classical Studies; a degree that doesn’t require the intellectual strain of learning Latin or Ancient Greek. The inclusive way for people like you, having attended a run-down state-funded school, to get a glimpse into the Bullingdon boys' and grammar schoolgirls’ fallback plans.

It wasn't even that you disliked Classics; you'd borderline gotten off on reading plays written by men about wicked women; but that was because the brilliant women were always the wicked ones.

You particularly enjoyed the assumptions men made about the female condition – how women were too wet, too porous; couldn’t keep their wombs from wandering. And assumptions they were. No Greek physician ever sliced a woman from chin to cunt to confirm their hypotheses. Although, ancient men hadn't been all too familiar with the insides of a woman anyway.

Sometimes, you thought you would quite simply die if you were reduced to only understanding people through your assumptions of them.

It was just that you could never stop thinking about what people thought. It was all you could ever think about. You wanted to peel people's skulls apart and scream at their horribly grey frontal lobe:

Are you ok? Have I done something to upset you? Do you still love me? Do I look like someone that has been raped? Do you think that girl we just walked past has a firmer ass than me? Do you like my new bangs?

For a short period of time, you'd been desperate to know how your therapist felt and thought of you. There is a sick irony in baring your bones to a stranger in the reclined chair opposite you who never even takes off their cardigan.

You needed to know if your traumas made him sad, or if he saw things that made him think of you outside of your sessions. You supposed he both pitied and admired you in a twisted, surrogate-daughter kind of way.

Then again, he probably wouldn’t have been a very good therapist did he not pity his clients.

At one point you thought you might be in love with him.

You'd met weekly in his high-ceiling office on a busy street. It was a romantic setting to unload twenty-four years of trauma to a kind man wearing a knitted cardigan. The sun would peak through clouds and shine onto the both of you through two large windows, between which sat a Japanese peace lily.

You soon realised he was just the first man to let you speak uninterrupted.

You spoke at him mostly, finishing observations that had been years in the making with “Does that make sense?” Even though you knew it made sense. You were certain, actually, that everything you had articulated came from somewhere deeper inside of you than any man could reach. You just couldn't leave it hanging there like an exposed nerve.

Maybe it was because he didn't speak much that you liked him. Sometimes he would offer anecdotes or remedies for PTSD-induced panic attacks that you both knew you would never use.

In most sessions, you had simply basked in the divinity of being listened to. You wondered if this was how devout Catholics like your grandmother felt at confession, or perhaps it was how all of your ex-boyfriends had felt.

You weren't even particularly attracted to him. He had been ten years older than you, and when your sessions first began, you'd been casually fucking someone a year older than him – but he didn't need to know that.

There were a lot of things you'd decided he didn't need to know. Like the fact you snorted cocaine until your nose bled, sliced into your thighs a couple of evenings a week, and let men use your body to masturbate as a feeble attempt to reclaim your sexuality - as if it had ever been anyone's for the taking.

Had he known the dirtier parts of your life, you feared he would have crossed out the word victim in his black Moleskin notebook and replaced it with bystander.

Maybe he would think you were a pathological liar and diagnose you with a personality disorder. This was something you'd been warned about by the first friend you had made at university.

“My mother is a therapist, you know. Don’t tell them you cut yourself or that you’ve told anyone you cut yourself – they’ll diagnose you with BPD.”

“But I’ve told you.”

“Trust me. They’ll put you on an SSRI and you’ll never be able to orgasm again.”

You were freshly eighteen and had never had a real orgasm anyway, but this terrified you enough to reel in your catalogue of symptoms for the GP appointment you had scheduled later that day.

In the end, you'd buckled and sobbed as the doctor sat adjacent to you. You didn’t mention the self-harming or the suicidal thoughts, but did tell her that you didn’t know where to go from here.

She'd slid a leaflet from the university's self-help website across the table before pushing her chair back and motioning toward the door.

“Call 999 if things get worse," she had said. "But let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point. A&E is very overwhelmed at the moment.”

So you got on with it. Boats against the current, or whatever. You made the hurt so small and buried it so deep within you and swore you'd never let anyone get close enough to pick at the stray thread to your undoing.

And for a little while it worked. You became what you knew you should be; you presented your face for fucking and never let the door slam on your way out.

These days, you'd felt as though you were slowly becoming rotten.

It started on the surface; a bizarre case of adult acne that no dermatologist could diagnose for love nor money. Blood tests, topical steroids, antibiotics, potentially-baby-deforming drugs. You tried them all to little avail. In the end, it was simply the passing of time that had rid you of the rot.

Next, it had been your womb. Decomposing from the inside out. Your body had made the decision for you that goodness couldn't form in your guts.

The final straw had, embarrassingly, been your heart.

You hated to say it aloud. So much so that you hadn't. But it had been a quiet promise of yours; one you'd kept quietly close to your chest - that your suffering would never turn you ugly.

But here you were, alone and swearing at the wind, the rage beneath your skin growing like a tumour.

You hated it.

You hated yourself.

You hated that you were angry but had never been taught how to be angry, because anger wasn't a pretty emotion; it was one that should be starved and kept in the corner of your wardrobe to rot like black mould.

So here you stood: before a Victorian townhouse with your scarf furiously fighting the wind, droplets of rain threatening your freshly straightened hair, scanning various names scrawled on the building's buzzer.

S. PHYSIOTHERAPY

A & R SOLICITORS

J. MILLER PSYCHOTHERAPY

You bit the inside of your cheek and ducked further into the doorway, pressing the buzzer for the last option.

A voice had answered quicker than you'd anticipated, soon followed by a harsh buzz of the intercom.

"Come on up."

Dr. Miller's office was on the third floor.

You huffed, struggling with the combination of the stairs and attempting to wrangle your wet coat from your back. Amidst your struggle, you hear a door open somewhere above you, followed by a couple of soft and slow footsteps.

Your chin instinctively lifted toward the source of the noise, feet carrying you round and round the spiral staircase.

Light poured around his silhouette from the window behind him. It was ridiculous, actually. The sight was almost holy.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way up toward him. You felt as though you were on your knees beneath him, transfixed in supplication.

The sleeves of his blue cotton shirt were haphazardly pushed up just before his elbows, arms outstretched and fingers wrapped around the wooden bannister.

You were supposed to be actually trying with this one, not fantasising about the ways the veins in his arms probably bulged with his hand around your throat.

After being politely let go by your previous therapist, you'd promised yourself that the colleague he'd recommended to you, Dr. Miller, would be the one to fix you for good.

"Hello." He nodded, not quite managing a smile.

He reached a hand toward you, which you shook with the little strength left in your body.

"Hello." You tried your best to imitate his stoic cadence, your hand still tightly in his.

You let him break the handshake first, playing a petulant, one-sided game to see how quick he would be to scare.

"After you." He gestured to the room behind him. "Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable."

"If there is any cowboy paraphernalia in that room I am not paying for this session."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrows knitted together, no sign of humour registering on his face.

"Your accent - it was a joke. I mean, I paid already anyway." You fumbled your words awkwardly. "Jokes are always much funnier when you explain them."

He cocked his head slightly. Hesitant to embarrass yourself further, you saw yourself into his office.

The room was dim for a space endowed with Victorian-style floor-to-ceiling windows. It felt like you could get lost in it, hide away, tuck yourself into a corner and be lost for days.

"I have your notes from Dr. Hughes." He said.

"Anything juicy?" You asked, still surveying the room.

You couldn't put your finger on the specifics of his scent, but it was familiar; like passing a man in the street wearing the same aftershave as your father, or a boyfriend you hadn't seen for years.

"I'd like to figure that out myself."

You'd eventually settled on the armchair positioned opposite his own.

You had briefly wondered if this was a test, that he would be psychoanalysing whether you chose the armchair or the adjacent sofa.

Maybe you'd failed already.

For the majority of the session, you'd gone through the necessary motions of admin, confidentiality, and what you eventually wanted to get out of therapy.

"I don't have the ability to fix you, y'know that right?" His question had caught you off guard.

"I know that." You'd replied meekly.

"It's just, I don't know what kind of promises Dr. Hughes made you. We trained together, you see. He had always been more, how do I put this, hopeful than I am."

"Oh wow. Forty minutes into our first session and you're already hopeless?" You were only partly joking.

"I'm a big believer in transparency, and I can see you were meeting on and off for a few years. I'm just intrigued as to what your end goal here is."

You bit down on your cheek, swallowing the ember of rage that was burning in your throat.

"Do you think I do this for fun? Carve out an hour a week to relive my deepest, darkest traumas?"

"Not at all. I just find it interesting that after almost three years of therapy, you still can't use the word rape. You've referred to it as the thing that happened four times already."

The rot crept up your throat, threatening to pour out of your mouth and fill the room with the ugliness that grew inside of you.

"What is this, some kind of tough love therapy?" You scoffed. Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

"It can be whatever you want it to be."

He was kind of annoying, actually.

The two of you sat in silence, defiantly holding eye contact with one another to see who would be the first to break. And when he finally spoke, it was more of a statement than a question.

"That's time. I'll see you at the same time next week."

"How are you so sure I'll come back?"

He smiled for the first time that afternoon.

"I'm not."

[quotesfrommyreading]

Much of the public discussion of Ukraine reveals a tendency to patronize that country and others that escaped Russian rule. As Toomas Ilves, a former president of Estonia, acidly observed, “When I was at university in the mid-1970s, no one referred to Germany as ‘the former Third Reich.’ And yet today, more than 30 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, we keep on being referred to as ‘former Soviet bloc countries.’” Tropes about Ukrainian corruption abound, not without reason—but one may also legitimately ask why so many members of Congress enter the House or Senate with modest means and leave as multimillionaires, or why the children of U.S. presidents make fortunes off foreign countries, or, for that matter, why building in New York City is so infernally expensive.

The latest, richest example of Western condescension came in a report by German military intelligence that complains that although the Ukrainians are good students in their training courses, they are not following Western doctrine and, worse, are promoting officers on the basis of combat experience rather than theoretical knowledge. Similar, if less cutting, views have leaked out of the Pentagon.

Criticism by the German military of any country’s combat performance may be taken with a grain of salt. After all, the Bundeswehr has not seen serious combat in nearly eight decades. In Afghanistan, Germany was notorious for having considerably fewer than 10 percent of its thousands of in-country troops outside the wire of its forward operating bases at any time. One might further observe that when, long ago, the German army did fight wars, it, too, tended to promote experienced and successful combat leaders, as wartime armies usually do.

American complaints about the pace of Ukraine’s counteroffensive and its failure to achieve rapid breakthroughs are similarly misplaced. The Ukrainians indeed received a diverse array of tanks and armored vehicles, but they have far less mine-clearing equipment than they need. They tried doing it our way—attempting to pierce dense Russian defenses and break out into open territory—and paid a price. After 10 days they decided to take a different approach, more careful and incremental, and better suited to their own capabilities (particularly their precision long-range weapons) and the challenge they faced. That is, by historical standards, fast adaptation. By contrast, the United States Army took a good four years to develop an operational approach to counterinsurgency in Iraq that yielded success in defeating the remnants of the Baathist regime and al-Qaeda-oriented terrorists.

A besetting sin of big militaries, particularly America’s, is to think that their way is either the best way or the only way. As a result of this assumption, the United States builds inferior, mirror-image militaries in smaller allies facing insurgency or external threat. These forces tend to fail because they are unsuited to their environment or simply lack the resources that the U.S. military possesses in plenty. The Vietnamese and, later, the Afghan armies are good examples of this tendency—and Washington’s postwar bad-mouthing of its slaughtered clients, rather than critical self-examination of what it set them up for, is reprehensible.

The Ukrainians are now fighting a slow, patient war in which they are dismantling Russian artillery, ammunition depots, and command posts without weapons such as American ATACMS and German Taurus missiles that would make this sensible approach faster and more effective. They know far more about fighting Russians than anyone in any Western military knows, and they are experiencing a combat environment that no Western military has encountered since World War II. Modesty, never an American strong suit, is in order.

  —  Western Diplomats Need to Stop Whining About Ukraine

[starryriize]

kiss me kiss me | eunseok

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!

೫ pairing: corporate worker bf! eunseok and gf! reader

೫ summary: you surprise your boyfriend while he's stuck at work with flowers and of course, kisses! however, you didn't expect him to look so attractive.

೫ genre/word count: kinda fluffy but more suggestive! 668 words!

೫ author's note: ngl i wrote this really quickly because i didn't like the first draft of this so...here we are :)) good lord i was giggling and kicking as i wrote this fr <3 this could definitely be better though...

Eunseok rarely let the effects of lack of sleep get to him. Most days, he could easily get by with a shot of espresso and some coffee, but today was one of those days. It was one of those days when everything was thrown at him and there wasn’t enough time in the day to get it all done. His once pristine desk was now piled with papers and proposals that were meant to be finished. Reaching up to his collar, he laced his fingers under his necktie, roughly pulling it to undo the knot. 

His suit jacket was strewn across his office chair along with his discarded company badge. There was a new client that his boss had wanted to get signed before the end of the day. His phone buzzes, the dim light shining facedown on his desk. Picking up his phone, he glances at the text from you, finding it cute that you wanted to visit him with a pick-me-up.

10 minutes later, he heard the ever-familiar ding from the elevator. The soft click of your heels can be heard as you walk down the halls along with the soft whirr of the elevator going back down. You approach Eunseok's office, seeing him sitting at his desk, head resting in his hands. You open the door slowly, peeking your head in, exclaiming, "Honey! I brought some midnight snacks for us!" He perks up, eyes instantly sparkling upon seeing you in his office.

Getting up, he walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. For him, you were the cure to every single one of his problems. His hands found their way to your cheeks, wordlessly pressing his lips against yours. It was rushed, full of want and need. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush of kissing in his office, even though there was no one else in the office building. Maybe it was the stress of work, but your boyfriend looked far too good in his white shirt and loosened tie. You pull away, not wanting to give in too quickly or ignore the food that is getting cold. His eyes were glazed over as he leaned back against the front of his desk, teasing, "What? Do you want more?" You contemplate it, smirking in response, dragging your eyes up and down his figure. If he was a tease, you were the devil. Your eyes land on his loosened tie and you let your intrusive thoughts take over.

Stepping closer, you lightly trace your fingers down his white shirt, noticing how he slightly shivered at your touch. Looping a finger around the bottom of his tie, you tug it, pulling him towards you. "Hey-" he exclaims, wondering what you were doing. "Shhhh." You add, before pulling him in for a passionate kiss with his tie. The kiss was far from innocent, the only sounds that could be heard were both of your breathless moans into each other lips. Eunseok's mind was melting as you kissed him more impatiently, your tongues molding against each other. He kissed you as though you were the most decadent chocolate, savoring every taste, swallowing your pretty sighs. He dragged his hands away from your waist, dropping lower to grab your ass, giving it a little smack. “Eun-ah!” You yelp, but he chases your lips, wanting you to be the only air he breathes. He pulls you closer and the way his lips perfectly moved against yours drove you insane. By now, the food was not the snack that your boyfriend wanted, rather he wanted to have you. This moment, in his office, was simply the prelude to what would be a long night.

You both pull away, chests heaving from the lack of air, and smiling hazily at each other. "Let's continue…this at home,” he says between pants. He smiles, lopsided and dazed, as though he got drunk on the taste of your lips. You nod, catching your breath before asking him, “So, what’s for dessert tonight?”

“You.”

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 13

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: SMUT, p in v intercourse, face sitting (oral F), tiny mention of butt stuff 😜, angst, period, Emma embarrassed, anxious Sy, Nana (because her sassiness is a warning), language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 12

Two weeks have passed since Emma’s parents visited and we have been spending the night together every night since. I’ve cleaned out a drawer in my bedroom that now holds extra clothes for when Emma’s here including some work scrubs so she can leave straight from my house. She cleaned out a drawer at her house for me and my spare clothes. I haven’t had this level of commitment to someone since I was in my twenties, but rather than feeling afraid I feel comforted. Coming home to her is just the most incredible feeling. She has really transformed my house into a home simply with her presence. We gave each other spare keys to each other’s homes last week so we wouldn’t have to wait on each other. I have finally accepted that Emma is my end game and I can’t run from happiness anymore. She’s basically aware of how damaged I am, having seen me through my worst flashback yet and even then, she wasn’t scared away. I often catch myself thinking about us living together, marrying her, and what our lives would look like if she would have me. I made myself so hard thinking about her pregnant with my children that I had to take a second shower one day last week. May have tapped into a bit of a breeding kink there but I plan to keep that to myself.

Tonight, it’s a Friday night and we decided to stay at mine. I’m on my way home and pull up to see that Emma’s jeep is already parked in the driveway and I smile. The vet clinic closes early on Friday afternoons due to it being slow, but this is the first time she’s beat me home. I unlock the front door and my nostrils are assaulted with the most incredible smelling aroma after a long day in the sun. I’m surprised that there are no dogs rushing to bombard me with excitement at the door, but as I walk further down the hall to find them practically on top of Emma on the couch as a show played on the tv. 

“Hi Darlin’. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” I say with a kiss to her forehead from behind the couch that she’s resting on. Emma’s lounging in one of my t-shirts and some of her teeny tiny sleep shorts that never fail to make me instantly hard. I can even tell that she’s braless and I’m tempted to cop a feel. 

“Mmm. Hi babe. How was work?”

“Hot.” I say honestly as I spent the majority of the day outside in the sun building a porch for a client. “Something smells amazing in the kitchen.”

“The lasagna has about ten more minutes until it’s done. I figure that’s enough time for you to shower or change into comfortable clothes before we eat.”

“You’re too damn good to me, Sugar.” I say as I tuck a stray hair from her eyes that’s fallen from her messy updo. 

“Nope, just trying to be as good as you deserve.” She says with a shy smile and I find myself not wanting to leave her presence even for just a quick shower after being without her all day. I make a point to greet the dogs who have traitorously not left Emma’s side even to greet me as I chuckle to myself at how quickly this astonishing woman has won all of us over.

I head to my bedroom, chucking clothes off as I go and toss them all into the hamper, which is surprisingly empty. I hop in the shower not wasting any time getting back to my girl, and a delicious smelling meal. Once I’m through, I put on some lounge shorts and a t-shirt and find Emma in the kitchen plating up our food. She’s made lasagna with garlic bread, and she poured us each a glass of sweet tea. My stomach growled at the sight and she giggled cutely as I helped carry the food to the table. Before she sits, I wrap her into my arms and kiss her. 

“Thank you for making dinner, Sugar.”

“Mmm, anytime. You sure you’re okay with me using the key and showing up before you got here? I was bored at the house and figured the pups would keep me company.”

“Darlin’, I can’t possibly tell you how much it brought a smile to my face having you here when I got home. I always want you here. Feels like a home with you in it. Now, let’s eat this feast, babygirl.”

“I made brownies for dessert.” She grins as she picks up her drink.

“You trying to make me pop a boner at the dinner table?” I ask jokingly and she chokes on her sip of sweet tea. Once Emma’s breath comes back to her after I dutifully contributed by smacking her back, we both start laughing so hard she has tears streaming down her face.

“I did not expect you to say that, Sy!” I’ve noticed she calls me Sy when she’s being playful or out in public. When it’s just us or family around, she calls me Austin and I honestly really like that since nobody ever uses my first name besides her.

“I usually think of that sweet pussy when I think of dessert, but I don’t mind having a brownie or two first.” I say with a wink and she shakes her head at me with a grin.

“So vulgar, Mr. Syverson.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Ms. Miller.” I joke back.

We ate dinner until we were stuffed and I quickly began cleaning the kitchen.  “Don’t look at me like that, woman. You cooked all of this. I’m cleaning. Go turn on your show and relax.” I tell her and she smacks my ass as she walks to the living room, with the dogs faithfully following her lead. I clean up and don’t hear the tv going so when I go looking for her, I see her in the backyard with the dogs. The summer heat has lessened as it is approaching dusk and Emma stands just outside the screened in porch throwing a tennis ball for Mills. Aika is rolling in the grass as lightning bugs start appearing at the edge of the yard. I walk out and wrap Emma tightly in my arms. 

“I thought I told you to relax, Angel.”

“I am. This house, your property, everything about being here relaxes me. It’s so calm and quiet here.”

“Yeah? Always thought of this place as my little slice of heaven. Even more with you here.” I tell her and she smiles.

“Think you could see yourself living here with me one day?” I ask knowing it’s probably way to early and I might freak her out. To my surprise, she smiles and wraps her arms along my forearms that are holding her waist. 

“It’s almost too easy to imagine that.” She whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask and she nods.

“Want to move in with me?” I ask surprising myself even. It’s early in the relationship still, but it feels right.

“Isn’t it too soon?” She asks as she turns and looks at my face scanning for the answer to her question.

“I guess that’s up to us to decide. I’m not ever wanting to pressure ya, Sugar, but I can’t say I don’t picture us living here together in this big old house. Maybe one day even some kids to fill up those bedrooms.”

Emma beams and kisses me. Moments of gentle kisses soon become heated and I’m guiding her back inside the screened in porch, the screen door squealing in protest as it slams behind us. 

“Time for dessert, and I don’t mean the brownies.” I say between passionate kisses. My hands are under the too large shirt she’s wearing, and I pull it over her head. She seemingly has no qualms about being topless here in my secluded backyard and I quickly reach behind my neck and pull my own shirt off so I can feel her skin against mine. Our hands are everywhere, groping and teasing at the same time before I turn her back against my chest and take her breasts in my hands while nipping down her neck. After sucking on her skin, I turn and lay myself down on my back on the outdoor couch that I had built a few years ago. 

“Climb on, sweetness.” I tell her and she slides her tiny shorts down along with her barely there thong and steps out of them. Emma reaches for my shorts that are tented from my very obvious boner but I shake my head and point to my chin. Emma’s cheeks turn bright pink and I smirk at her.

“Got your seat all ready for ya, Darlin’. Let me have a taste of that perfect peach.”

“I’ve never done that.” She whispers as I pull her close to my face. 

“Sit down.” I tell her.

“Austin, you won’t be able to breathe, I’ll smother you!” Emma frets. Like her tiny little frame could possibly suffocate me, but even so that would be the ideal way to go.

“Woman, just sit on my face!” I say as I pull her hips and ass down and hold her tightly. Emma gasps when she contacts my beard and I blow my warm breath onto her delicate core.

“That’s more like it, Sugar. Relax and let me eat.” I command with a smack to her ass cheeks. Emma surges forward and grips the arm rest of the couch as I get to work. I slide my tongue around her entrance and lick up in figure eights around her clit. Emma’s breathing becomes faster and when I spear my tongue into her opening she moans. My hands knead and massage her buttocks as I stare up at her heaving breasts that are chasing each breath she takes. Her eyes are closed tightly as her head tilts back slightly from the sensation I’m providing. When I begin putting pressure on her sensitive little button, Emma begins grinding against my face, her earlier hesitation seemingly no longer of concern. I double down and focus my efforts of pleasuring her as best as I can. My arm stretches out and grabs a handful of her breasts and lightly pinch the peaked bud. God, I could stay down here all day watching her like this. I continue teasing her sensitive nipples and am finally rewarded with her grinding down hard as her hands are grasping the short hair on my head. Emma moans loudly in her bliss, not caring one bit that we are outside. Her thighs clamp around me as I suck on her sweet little nub and greedily swallow up the juices that are dripping from her core. I maneuver Emma to where she is laying on top of me as she comes down from her high and wipe my soaked beard with my hand. Emma leans up to kiss me and I’m certain she can taste her little cunt on my lips which makes me painfully hard. 

“Fuck me, Sy. Hard.” She whines which makes me immediately sit up and lean her over the arm of the outdoor couch. Emma is panting in wordless anticipation as run my finger through her slick arousal before dropping my shorts and pressing myself against her. Emma impatiently pushes her ass further into my leaking erection and after spreading her legs a little wider, I slide home.

“Fucking hell, Darlin’. Never had a pussy feel so good. You’re perfect, baby girl.” I growl at her warm, wet heat as it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a privilege being able to worship her body and that knowledge is not lost on me. I give her only a moment to adjust before I retreat and then slam into her again. 

“Ah! Baby! You feel so good inside of me.” She mewls as I thrust into her. I spread her round globes and look at her perfect little asshole.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby girl. So beautiful and sexy.” I grunt.

“Tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, Sugar.” I command. My ball sack is smacking her clit each time I thrust forward and I can no longer help myself. I spit onto her tight hole and gently circle it with my thumb. Emma moans at the sensation and I slowly slide my thumb into her tight rim. I smack her left ass cheek as I gently prod my thumb in and out of her snug hole.

“Fuck babe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah Darlin’, let go for me. Let me feel you soak my cock.” I grunt.

Emma moans as she clamps down around me and I spear into her harder and faster until I reach my release, spurting my seed into her channel. Emma presses her body against the couch and I can’t help but lay across her soft back as I try and catch my breath. I’m not as young as I once was, but Sy’s still got it.

Emma looks absolutely shattered so once I remove myself from her, I gather our clothes, let the dogs inside and carry her to the master bathroom. I set her on the toilet while I start filling the bathtub and appreciate Emma’s sleepy smile at my preparations. While the water is filling, I jog back down to the kitchen, wash my hands, and grab the platter of brownies Emma made with two cups of milk. Emma giggles when she sees me smuggling our treats back into the bathroom and setting out a stool next to the tub to place them on. When the water is filled and the bubbles are sufficient, I step in first before helping Emma in and positioning her on my lap. Emma’s back rests against my chest and I think about the last time we bathed in here together and how nervous I was for her to sleep over. Now, I only sleep poorly when she’s not next to me. I lean forward and get each of us a brownie and we gently bump them together with a “cheers” before digging in. 

“I gave Millsy-bear his last set of puppy shots this afternoon when I got here, by the way.” She says.

“Thanks, Sugar. No wonder he was snuggling hard on the couch when I made it home.”

“I gave him treats and extra cuddles for having to get a shot. Aika got one just for being cute. Bribery is key in veterinary medicine.” Emma says.

“You make house calls for all of your clients?”

“Only one. My favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too, Sugar.” I place a kiss on her temple.

“Oh, I was talking about Mills… Awkward.” She jokes and I tickle her ribs.

 “I guess you’re up there on the list of my favorite things.” Emma says with kiss to my lips before picking a brownie crumb from my scruff. She smiles as she eats it and then takes a bite out of her dessert.

“Are you always this happy?” I ask her without thinking. I know I have a reputation of being extremely serious, or a ‘grump’ as Alex says, but Emma is the opposite. She’s like sunshine. The daytime to my nighttime. She’s made me smile and laugh more in these three months than probably ever before.

“Um not at all. You just make me really happy, Sy.” 

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Darlin.”

Emma and I lay in the tub talking about all things that come to mind until the water gets cold and my perpetual warmth isn’t enough for her. She's shivering as we climb out. We rinse off the bubble bath in the shower quickly before getting in bed and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. 

I wake up early the next morning, close to six am and see my sleeping beauty is still a mess of hair and disheveled blankets next to me. She slept in one of my t-shirts last night since she was still cold from our extended bath, and as no surprise it’s twisted up around her waist. I smile at her disarray before snuggling up to her. When I do, I feel like I’ve rolled in something wet so I lift the covers. Oh no, a little patch of blood. Emma must’ve started her period in her sleep and knowing what I do about how she’s been treated in the past, I don’t want her to panic. I ease out of bed to grab some clothes, using my military stealth to do so as quietly as possible. Luckily my girl could sleep through a tornado, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I scribbled out a quick note telling her not to panic, and that I’ve run to the store but I’ll be right back in case she wakes up before placing it on my pillow.

Thank goodness there is a pharmacy about seven minutes from my house. I walk in and try my best to think of anything she might need. I purchase some tampons, pads, painkillers, a hot water bottle, and all of the chocolate my arms can carry. They even had some flowers there and I grabbed those at the checkout. The elderly woman at the register just smiled at me and told me I was a “good man.” This should be the standard for men taking care of their women, but clearly, it’s not. I quickly load everything up and head back to the house. I head to bedroom and Emma hasn’t moved an inch. I take the female hygiene items to the bathroom and place them on the countertop, before going to gently wake Emma up. I hate to do it but I figure it’s likely better to let her only see a little spot of blood rather than a big one and panicking even more.

“Sugar… Hey beautiful.” I stroke her hair away from her face and she gently shakes her head at me.

“uh-uh… no.” She grunts and I chuckle. 

“Darlin’, can you wake up for me for just a minute please?”

“It’s Saturday… and still dark out, Sy.” She says after peaking one eye open.

“I know, and I’ll let you go back to sleep in just a minute but I need your attention.”

She yawns before I continue.

“I don’t want you to panic, so please remember, it’s okay. I’m not like the guys you’ve been with in the past.”

“Sy? What are you saying? It’s too early for riddles.”

“I think you may have started your period last night. Now, it’s no problem but I wanted to let you know so you co”

“Oh my god!” She interrupts, jerking covers up above her head to appraise the situation. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She says with tears rimming her eyes as she lifts her head from the covers.

“Now, stop it right there. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It’s okay, Sugar. Take a breath.” 

“I… um.. need to head back to my house.” She says quickly as a tear falls from her eye.

“I’ve got everything you need, baby, and I’m going to take care of you. Now, head on into the bathroom and take care of what you need to, and I’ll take care of this.” 

“Sy, I’m so embarrassed. I need tampons and I didn’t bring any. I will replace the sheets.”

“No need, I’ll just toss ‘em in the washer and it’ll be just fine. I bought tampons and pads. They’re on the counter.” I help her out of bed and lead her into the bathroom. 

“I tried to get a little bit of everything since I don’t know what you prefer so you just do what you need to do, baby girl. Nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.” I kiss her forehead and she nods as more tears streak down her face. I want to scoop her up and stop her tears but figured she might just want a minute alone to collect herself. I hear the shower turn on as I close the door behind me.

I walk out and quickly strip the bed and throw the sheets in the washer before making the bed up with clean sheets. As I’m making the bed, I get angry thinking about her douche ex-boyfriend who made her feel so ashamed for her body doing something that it is supposed to do. The more I think about it, the angrier I get as I’m shoving the pillows into the new pillowcases.

“Um, thank you, for the stuff.” I hear Emma whisper as I quickly turn around and see her there. She looks so small as she wraps her arms around herself.

“Is what I got okay?” I ask and she nods before going to her bag and pulling on some new panties, t-shirt, and sweatpants.

I pat the clean bed and she crawls up next to me before I hear her sob into my chest. I can’t seem to get her to look at me as she buries her face into my chest so I just hold her until her breath comes easier.

“Feel better?”

“Not really. I’m just embarrassed.”

“No need to be baby girl. I promise you, it’s fine. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“You make me comfortable. It’s just hard to change how I think after being told it was disgusting my whole life.”

“Trust me, if I ever see that douchebag again I will punch him so hard for ever making you feel like that.” I tell her as I wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Let me take care of you?” I ask and Emma nods with a small smile.

“Good. I got you an arsenal of chocolate, some painkillers, and a hot water bottle too.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t that stuff helpful?”

“It is, very much so… I just mean you didn’t have too.” 

“I want too… Sugar, I love you.” I say and Emma sits up to look at me.

“You do?” She bites her lip.

“I love you more than I can even articulate.” I tell her truthfully.

“I love you too, Austin. I love you so much.” She says and I swear to God, I am beaming. 

I love this woman and she loves me. Emma leans forward and kisses me in a kiss so consuming I can picture our whole lives together. After kissing a little, we lay back down and I stroke her hair until she’s fallen back asleep. When she’s thoroughly asleep, I ease up and decide to take the dogs out to get them a little bit of exercise before heading to the kitchen to make us some breakfast. 

Emma saunters downstairs about two hours later seeming more well rested as I’ve got her breakfast plated up. She kisses on the dogs who are eagerly corralling around her legs before walking over to me and kissing me tenderly. 

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anything for you, sweet darlin’.” I wink over my coffee cup as Emma fills her cup and adds her creamer.

Emma glances at her phone with an inquisitive look. 

“Everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just was checking my security cameras. I think the Rodriguez family across the street from me got their teenager a car. It’s been parked out in the street across from the house all day yesterday. I knew he must be close to driving age. It just turned around in my driveway so I got a notification on my phone. That’s all.” She says nonchalantly and I nod at her assumption.

“What should we do today?” I ask her as we eat.

“Maybe go to the grocery store? I figured I could go ahead and meal prep for the week. I also need to get the ingredients to make banana pudding for your Nana and PawPaw’s house.”

“Sugar, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” I start but Emma shakes her head.

“No, when we talked last week I told her that I wouldn’t mind bringing dessert.” I just about choke on my bacon.

“She called you?” I ask and Emma blushes.

“She did. Is that okay?” 

“Of course, that’s more than fine… I just don’t want her bothering you. She’s a bit of a handful if you know what I mean. I didn’t even realize she got your number.”

“Well, she told me not to tell you because you would ‘whine about her interfering’, but she called the vet clinic and got in touch with me there. She said she wanted to make sure I was joining y’all for lunch Sunday, and then wanted my mom’s number so they could keep in touch.”

“That woman.” I shake my head incredulously. 

“I ask her to not interfere, and she goes around calling you and your family. Good grief.” I chuckle at the audacity of Nana. She’s going to get her way no matter what. She’s never gone to these extremes to contact anyone I’ve dated though, so maybe it’s a good thing.

Emma giggles.

“I think it’s sweet. Anyway, we got to talking about her cooking and I offered to make dessert. If that’s okay with you, let’s go ahead and go to the store after breakfast.” 

“I’ll do anything you want me too, Sugar.” 

We eat and chat a bit before Emma changes clothes and starts gathering her items to head to the store. I head upstairs and throw on some different clothes as well before we load up and head to the store. 

When we get there, I’m in charge of the buggy. Emma has a list on her phone of all the items she needs to get, so I just follow her with the cart as she gathers her items. I also add a few of my own favorites as we are traversing the aisles, such as chips and beef jerky.

Once we’ve got everything on our list, we head to the checkout and I insist again on paying. Emma crosses her arms, jutting out her hip with a scowl that I can’t help but chuckle at. She’s like an angry kitten and I just want to kiss all over her face, so I do. After we pay, we make our way out the doors.

“By the way, you said you wanted steaks one night this week. Did you remember to put those in the cart?” 

“Shit, I totally forgot. Here,” I hand Emma my truck keys. “Let me run back and grab some while you put the groceries in the truck?” I ask and Emma nods. I kiss her forehead before jogging back in the store to collect and purchase the forgotten steaks. 

I skip the small talk with the cashier and head straight for the self-check out so that I hopefully don’t keep Emma waiting too long. After buying our main dinner entrée, I head outside toward my large grey truck, with Syverson Contracting Inc. embossed along the side. Emma must’ve loaded the groceries quickly as I don't see her. I walk over and notice she’s not in the passenger seat before I hear her scream.

“LET GO OF ME!” I drop the bag and turn to look for her. About 30 yards away, I spot someone I recognize. Then it dawns on me who it is. 

Colin.

Part 14

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

Author's Note: Ya girl's struggling with a sinus infection right now but I was able to finally get this posted! Had an ultrasound today and baby was healthy and active so I am happy!

[melminli]

𝗢𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗘𝘆𝗲𝘀 - 𝟬𝟭

pairing: neuvilette x fem. reader

summery - fontaine was known for being the nation of the element hydro as well as the nation of justice. however, the people were known for their love of gossip. though, sometimes rumors turn out to be true, don't they?

word count: 1.5k

content: lawyer reader, lots of fluff, crack, romance, akward reader + neuvilette

series masterlist

Fontaine. The nation under the supervision of the Hydro Archon as well as the element Hydro itself. With its many waterfalls, wide seas, and many bodies of water, its aquatic space is widely embellished. Of course, this is not a big surprise, and yet the brilliant landscape never ceases to amaze new and old visitors and residents alike.

"Mademoiselle Rivière, please excuse me for disturbing you during your break, but the reports you requested have finally arrived," a soft female voice woke you up.

You slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Even when you just wanted to lean back on the couch in your office for a while, you couldn't seem to get any rest. You had to get to work when it was calling, and it always did. A healthy work-life balance was something unknown to you. "Don't worry, Marie, thank you for your work." You mumbled sleepily and reached for the file your assistant had brought you.

As you went through the pages, she looked at you a little worried. Even after all the years she had known you and worked under you, she couldn't stop frowning at your workaholic lifestyle. "Have you pulled an all-nighter again? How many days have you been here? You haven't forgotten to eat again, have you?"

Your eyes were fixed on the paper so that you could decipher the information inside as quickly as possible. "I'm fine, don't worry, really. I just don't have any time to waste since I have to be at the Opera Epiclese the day after tomorrow, and the defense isn't going to build itself."

Marie just sighed and made a mental note to order something to eat as soon as she left the room. "I'll get you something to drink. Who knows when you last got any time to do that." She said hopelessly and interrupted you before you could interject. "And I'll get water and nothing else!"

You didn't dare to say anything else to that. So, no coffee for me then. Maybe it's better this way. It would be a bit embarrassing to dehydrate in Fontaine. You leaned back in your chair and looked out of the window for a while, just watching the water surrounding the city for a bit. "Maybe I really should take a break. It's been a long time since I've been to the beach..." You continued to think, "...or even just the shore for a bit."

You sighed once and stretched a little to clear your head and get back to work. After all, you still had some preparation to do since Fontaine was not only the land of the element Hydro but also the land of justice. You were confronted with this not only as a citizen of this nation but, above all, as a lawyer. The best in town.

The case you were currently working on was about the unjust firing of your client from the Fonta development team. You had gathered the necessary evidence and testimonies, which was the lesser of two evils. The thing you still weren't really sure about yet...was how you wanted to present your case.

This was the Opera Epiclese we were talking about. Of course, everything was decided by the presentation. Getting the audience on your side was a must because only when you've kept them satisfied with a spectacle can you achieve great success. Simply bringing the truth to light was not enough in this country. Justice and reputation were very closely linked, and in order to keep your face, you not only had to be right, you also had to entertain. This made it possible for the result to have an effect. For making a change in the right direction, which people would remember.

You hated the system. Some days more and some days less since the need to entertain usually meant gossip, which in turn diminished the seriousness needed in court. As a lawyer, you were, of course, part of this, but you know the saying, hate the game and not the player. You did your best to bring justice, and your morals were not related to recognition or anything else. That's all that mattered for now.

Now that I've been thinking about Fonta so much, I feel like drinking it. Maybe Marie will let me have a bottle since there's no caffeine in it.

Quite a while later...

"I'm completely exhausted..." You sighed and could hardly wait to sleep in your own bed again. As much as you love Palais Mermonia, you really should spend less time there and your office. The world always felt so small when you spent so much time in the same four walls, and then as soon as you stepped out of them, the world suddenly seemed bigger than ever.

Though you missed your home, you didn't want to go from one room to the other. That's probably why your feet almost automatically carried you in the direction of Vasari Passage. You loved walking past the many stores and greeted the owners and various other people on your stroll. Your destination, however, was in the middle of the plaza because one of your favorite things to do in the city, was to sit near the fountain and simply watch the endlessly spinning mechanisms of the sphere.

Lost in thought, the scream of a certain nickname confused you greatly at first. "If it isn't the Ice Queen of Court herself! Today must be my lucky day!"

You turned to the voice only to see a certain reporter. She really won't stop calling me that, will she? I noticed that some other people started to do it, too. The cryo vision dangling off your outfit made it sound a bit cliché in your opinion. "Ah, it's you, Mademoiselle Charlotte. I didn't expect to find you here at this hour." You admitted.

She had a big smile on her face. "Well, I did! Rumor has it that you're usually here in the evening, so I sometimes come by when I have time, hoping for a little chat with the most famous lawyer in Fontain." She said without any shame and already had her pen and paper ready. "We never get to see you except in court, and getting appointments is super difficult. So, I thought I'd give this a try."

You couldn't help but smile slightly in disbelief at her efforts. "I see. So you switched to stalking after you ran out of your more professional resources."

"Guilty!" She exclaimed, and you raised an eyebrow at the circumstances. When Charlotte realized the context of the situation, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, I'm just kidding! Please don't get me wrong, I would never resort to foul means for my work, really!" She suddenly clarified very nervously.

You reassured her. "I'm always up for a bit of humor, and I would also say that we're not complete strangers, so it's not a problem." You assured her. "But I would advise you to be a little more careful with the way you get people excited about your work. You might scare off some of the gentler people."

Stars formed in her eyes as you offered her your advice. I'm not a stranger in her eyes? That almost makes us friends then! "As you'd expect, the best lawyer always knows exactly what to say! Very impressive, I'll take note of that." She said in a good mood. "To get to the point, I was wondering if you could give me some news about your next court case!"

An apologetic expression came over your face. "I fear I can't, Mademoiselle Charlotte. I don't share any information regarding my ongoing cases. Keeping statements concerning my clients strictly to myself is very important to me." You replied and could see from her expression that she wasn't too disappointed. She had probably already anticipated this answer from you.

"What a shame, but of course, understandable." She expressed with a cheerful spirit. "Then perhaps you could comment on the new rumors about you?" She asked you intently as she leaned a little closer to you, finally revealing the true reason for her interest.

More rumors? You were aware of how talkative the people of Fontaine were, but you didn't realize that they were the same when it came to you. "What kind of rumor would you like me to address?" You asked a little curiously yourself.

"Well, the rumors about a secret romance with you and our Iudex, Monsieur Neuvilette, of course!"

You were rarely completely blown away by anything, but this? That was the first time you ever heard anything like that. It sounded even more absurd than the thought alone. People - people are talking about me and Monsieur Neuvilette...?

To Be Continued...

[caramelcleopatraa]

i. SUIT & TIE

word count: 1,700~

x: this fic idea won in the polls :) this series was inspired by kayjayxchar on wattpad ( she's A1 ) and then while writing, I decided to make this into sort of a series. no smut in this part ( I know I know, its such a tragedy! ) but don't underestimate what I got in the works :p not proofread... yet

content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, fluff, suggestive themes ( gets a lil steamy ;) )

 Your fingers type away at your computer, responding to emails from your clients. Your employees are setting up the shop, preparing for another busy day. You were one of the top rated designers in the state of Florida. You’ve been able to travel around the country teaching classes, working your magic for top notch celebrities, and make public appearances. To cut it short, you were living your best life, truly. You got to do what you were passionate about and go against the standard of your families’ traditions and values. You were proud of yourself that you are successful as you are. The chime of your door interrupts your thoughts as a group of people walk into your shop before opening time.

“Wassup biiiiiittch!” One of your closest friends, Trinity, was the first to make herself known. She throws herself on you, and you welcome her sudden embrace. She often visited you at your shop to check on you in her free time, and you always welcomed her company, especially on busy days. Today however, she was coming to you as a client. Because she was your friend and today was one of your busiest days, you told her to come an hour and a half early before you opened. That gave you plenty of time to fit your friends, clean up, and open on time. You scan the group that entered through the door with her. You saw Trinity, her husband Jimmy, his twin Jey and his wife Talia. Your eyes shifted to the larger frame that stood behind them, that was accompanied by a shorter, voluptuous woman. It was someone you knew too well. Anyone that lived in Florida had to know his name. Roman Reigns. standing next to him, was what looked like a model, which you would later know to be De’arra. The group of six admired your shop, casually walking around and scouting different designs that were displayed on the walls. 

Men’s Side

Women’s Side 

“No matter how many times I come in here, I'm always shocked. Is this new?” Jey says, pointing to the gray suits on your model displays. “Yeah, new in stock. Ya like it?” You sing shakily as Trinity rocked you to death. “Can I take this off ya hands?” “You can after i fit you” You chuckled at his eagerness.

“Annyways..” Talia says, pushing her way through Jimmy and Jey. “This is Roman. I told him that I know a really good designer that can whip up an amazing suit. So he’s here to get fitted as well as the rest of us.” Talia explains to you, while you finish typing up your last email. You look up to find him staring at you. You notice his chocolate brown eyes and brown skin that complimented each other. You try your best to not let that distract you as you reach your hand towards him. You didn’t think he would’ve actually shaken your hand due to how cold people described him to be. You contentedly grinned when his warm hand engulfed yours. “Nice to meet you, beautiful” “Nice to meet you too, handsome.” ‘oh my god he’s so damn fine. how am i supposed to stay professional around this man!??��

Your poker face stayed true as you continued to engage with your client. De’arra, stayed close to him, latched on at the arm. She pulled on his arm to get his attention, but he simply dismissed her by saying “Wait over there for me sweets”, and she happily obliged. 

“So how does this whole thing work?” He says, tugging at his black tee. “You’ve never gotten fitted here before and my place runs a little differently than most. We have our scheduled appointments set up so that we can fit our clients, try on potential outfits for you, and send you home with them hours later. There’s a huge inventory that I have attached to this store so as soon as I get done recording your requests, we can get your order started as soon as possible. Any questions?” Roman smiles smugly and looks at Talia “She’s good.” Talia retaliates with “I told you so.” You blushed at their nice comments. To you, it didn’t seem like much. You were simply explaining how your company works so that your client has a basic rundown of how things work. Trinity nudged your shoulder as soon as she noticed your flustered state. You covered your face and did a quick spin, a little habit that formed when you get flustered. The group laughed at your small action. You snapped back into business mode and called your assistant to help you distribute the party of five.

“Aahkilah, can you help me with this party of five?”

 “Coming!” She galloped out to the main area with a work outfit that was damn near cutting dress code, but you didn’t have time to deal with that shit right now. “You can take the couples since they have been fitted before. Be flexible enough to make changes on the spot if our presets don’t fit like they’re supposed to. I’ll take Roman and do the whole process since he’ll be new information in the system.” She was fairly new, and you didn’t trust her just yet with doing an entire fitting appointment on a new client. Plus, you could tell everything that you were saying was going over her head as she basically eye-fucked your client. “But that’s not fairrrruuh! why can’t I take him?” she says, almost mimicking a complaining child. Your eyes close slowly as you sigh and respond “Because you’re not ready to give a full fitting appointment yet.” 

You wanted to put a nail in this conversation so you could do your job. But, this woman had a damn mission. “You just wanna get him in your private fitting room and fuck him!! You’re not slic-" “ He came here for a fitting! A fitting done by me girl! It was his request. Please don’t make me have to deal with a child right now.” You were starting to get loud, so you didn’t go back and forth with her like you usually would to whip that bitch into shape. The twins were barely succeeding at hiding their laughter as well as Talia. Roman and Trinity wore smirks on their faces as you reprimanded your employee. She finally buckled down and made sure that the room was ready for the couples. You called in another employee, Gio, to help you with your workload online while you fit your client.

“Oh my god who is that-“ You hit her and stop her sentence and she looks at you like you're crazy. “What!? He’s fine as fuck!” You mentally facepalm as she tries to whisper to you, that ends up more like a whisper scream. “Mhm” You said, as you went behind your desk and pulled up some work for her to do. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t think he’s fine! isn’t he right up your alley? Tall? muscular? deep voice? beard? The whole nine?” You took pride in the fact that you took time to know your employees on a personal level. You did not think she was going to air out all of the information you told her however. You gave Gio a look that screamed ‘shut the FUCK up’ and she responded to your look by playfully rolling her eyes. You turn the computer towards her. “You’re here to get a bag, not play matchmaker” She groans in response and says “Whatever.” to your dismissive comment. ‘she did not have to embarrass me like that. OMG WHAAT THE FU-‘

“The whole nine huh?” You hear a deep voice mirror your employee’s statement. You turn around to face Roman, the corner of his lips still curled into that mind melting smirk. He motioned up and down his body, trying to fluster you. Your eyes drift over his muscular body. “Little ole me?” ‘LITTLE?’ 

“Little?” Your face contorted into a confused expression, that earns a laugh out of the tall samoan. He starts to walk towards you, decreasing the amount of space between you too. Your momma ain’t raise no bitch so you stood your ground… well, you tried. You could clearly distinguish the height difference between you and him, and your head raised as your eyes met his. Your hand rested on your hip and your head tilted, slightly sizing him up. “Sir, I will let you know that this is a professional business.” You said, ending off your sentence with a smirk. Just as you expected, he challenged you back, “Well I'm not invading your personal space, am I?” He said, as the corner of his lips tugged to form another smirk. Anyone in the room would have felt the tension and both of you were desperately waiting on someone to make a move. “Nah, i just don't want a wannabe gangsta playboy fucking up my reputation.” His eyes fluttered closed as he laughed at your statement. You had amused him and peaked his interest. He closed the gap between you two. His breath ghosted over your lips as he said, “So you must know i’m good at fucking something else up, huh?” His eyes glazed over your soft lips, coated with lip gloss. You took a moment to gather yourself before prompting another response. ”Well I wouldn't know cause it’s just rumors.” You shrugged your shoulders looking off to the side. 

“You know how those be.”

“Mhm” He licked his lips. From how close you guys were, you were surprised that his tongue didn't make contact with your bottom lip. “What they been saying about me ma?”

“That apparently you’re good in bed” You raised your pointer and middle fingers bent to imitate quotation marks.

“Mhm, keep going”

“Boy ion know, I really don't be concerned with you.” Your hand returned to your hip. Your attitude started to shine through. 

“Maybe it’s because I haven't taken care of you yet sweetheart” He leans down to whisper the sentence in your ear. You feel his lips lightly touch your ear and your entire body froze. 

You huffed, and said “You say that like you're so sure of yourself.” You challenged his boldness, but nothing could prepare you for what he said to you next.

“Maybe when we hit this fitting room, I can show you how sure I am”

deeeefinitely meant to post this last week but finals and grades got me one more time. I'm on break for the rest of the month so I can try my hand at being consistent. let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and how you guys like part 1!

~ your hippie author

🏷️ tags :) @harmshake

[rose-pearls]

Flower arrangements

Summary : you find yourself in district four with the other victors to honour your fallen families, Finnick by your side.

Finnick is not dead and he will never be in my mind!

Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

The water is clear, the sun bright and a soft wind blowing through your hair. District four is still asleep, but you can hear everyone starting to wake up and get everything ready in the house. 

It was a beautiful day to commemorate the people that you had lost. Finnick had told everyone about a district four tradition, where flower arrangements would be made for a person that died and they would push it into the water, as if to let the person go and send them to a beautiful new life. A few days later plans had been made and now here you were, watching the sun coming up with the smell of seawater filling up your senses.

“It’s beautiful right?”, you hear someone say behind you and turn around to find Finnick leaning against the porch. His hair is a bit of a mess and his eyes still half asleep which tells you that the man had just woken up but there is a soft smile on his lips that you will never get tired off. 

“It is, it’s breathtaking.”, you say while turning back towards the view.

“There is a beautiful view but there is also a breathtakingly beautiful woman in front of it.”, a blush blooms on your cheeks and you roll your eyes at his words, a smile appearing.

“You’re an idiot.”, you tell him and Finnick hums in agreement before you feel his arms around your waist and a soft kiss is placed on your shoulder.

“Everything alright?”, he asks quietly after a moment of silence, and you sigh in answer.

“Just had a nightmare that I was back in the Capitol and getting sold.”, you whisper, and you feel Finnick tighten his arms around you, as if he is scared that someone could take you away from his arms. 

“That won’t ever happen again.”, he whispers against your skin, and you nod slowly holding his hand in yours.

“I know, it just makes me realize that before we got here and that we took our time to rediscover ourselves I had forgotten what it felt like to actually be wanted, by someone I actually wanted.”, you tell him and Finnick nods in agreement.

“I know what you mean, it took me some time to drop the act I had always had, to realize that I would never have to do that again.”, he seems thoughtful as you turn around to look at him, his blue-green eyes looking into the distance before they turn back to you, a loving smile on his lips.

“I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through all of this without you.”, the honesty in his eyes makes your stomach flutter and you turn around in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I wouldn’t have been able to get through it either if you hadn’t been there.”, you tell him, he had been the first person to help you before you had to go to your first client and was the first person to patch you up after.

“Hey! Lovebirds, we need to go!”, Johanna screams from the kitchen and you can’t help but laugh as Finnick rolls his eyes at her interruption.

“Coming Jo!”, he screams back but as you try to leave his arms, he tightens them around your waist, and you look at him with questioning eyes.

“I didn’t get my good morning kiss.”, he says with a pout on his lips, but his eyes are twinkling with mischief. 

“We can’t have that, right?”, you tell him and Finnick quickly shakes his head a smirk adorning his lips before you bring him into a soft kiss. 

“We need to go, or Jo is going to come and scream at us.”, you whisper as Finnick tries to deepen the kiss, but he shrugs his shoulders.

“Let her come, I saw her making out with Haymitch behind the barn yesterday.”, before you can process the information Finnick brings you back into a passionate kiss.

You are a little bit late at the meeting place, but Johanna simply rolls her eyes before going down towards the water.

The water is even bluer as you get close to it, and you enjoy the feeling of the sand against your feet. 

The flower arrangements are taken out carefully out of the box Johanna had taken with her.

Finnick looks pained as he takes the one with ‘Mags’ written on it, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Katniss takes Prim’s and Peeta takes the one with his family’s names written on them. Johanna joins you and the both of you smile at each other.

“Are you sure you don’t want one for your family?”, you ask her, and she sighs in answer.

“I grieved them in my own way, plus we didn’t have enough time.”, she tells you and you smile at her reassuringly before seeing a nervous Peeta behind her.

“What is it bread boy?”, she asks and Peeta rolls his eyes at the nickname, a smile on his lips as he gives her a flower arrangement, there are four names written on them and you recognize the names of her parents and siblings on it.

Johanna is quiet for a moment, and you can see Peeta starting to become nervous. After a moment Johanna takes him into a hug and Peeta smiles at the gesture, holding her close.

“Thank you.”, you hear her whisper, and the blond boy seems relieved that the woman didn’t want to kill him.

“Is everyone ready?”, you ask and they all nod in agreement before carefully setting the flower arrangements into the water and pushing them in.

They take a second or two to start drift away but second by second you see them drifting further away.

Finnick comes back to your side, and you wrap your arms around him, his arms quickly holding you.

“How are you feeling?”, you ask him softly, making him sigh softly.

“Better, Mags deserved a proper goodbye.”, his eyes are glassy with tears, so you hold him closer, hoping to bring him comfort.

“She would be so proud of you Fin.”, you tell him, and the man can only look at you with an emotional smile before turning back to look at the flower arrangements disappearing.

If you hear him whisper a soft goodbye to his mentor you let him do it in peace, simply holding him and being there for him. 

There are tear tracks on everyone’s cheeks as you all hear the town starting to wake up and get started with the day.

“I baked a cake yesterday if someone wants some?”, Peeta asks, and you all agree starting the walk back towards the house.

Finnick holds your hand as you walk back towards the house, looking more at ease after the goodbye.

“Thank you.”, he whispers softly, and you look at him in surprise.

“What for?”, you ask and Finnick smiles softly at you.

“For being there.”, he says simply, the sun shines through his golden hair and you get closer to him.

“I’ll always be there for you, you’re not getting rid of me Odair.”, the words make him laugh as he brings you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Good.”, he whispers before bringing you into a loving kiss.

“Hate to interrupt your sweet moment but the cake is ready and Johanna and Peeta have already started.”, Haymitch says with a smile and both Finnick and you look at each other with wide eyes before running up the stairs.

“Johanna you better not have eaten everything!”, you hear Finnick screaming quickly followed by a loud ‘Fuck you Odair’ from Johanna making you laugh.

It took some time, but you were all finally somewhere safe, a family by your side and no games looming over you. You couldn’t wait to see what was coming next, knowing that you had these people with you.

[eliazspaceart]

Derek Goffard x child!reader [platonic]

Clarification This will be in the format of headcanons. I also want to say that the characters may not behave like their canon versions; it’s simply my interpretation. Another thing is that I previously thought about making it a book, but I realized that format wouldn’t be ideal for this. So, I preferred to make important and summarized points to make it coherent (I hope it is). So, I hope you enjoy it.

How they ended up in Derek's arms is quite... funny?

The child ended up at Fox’s auction because two new employees were supposed to take the mother, not the child.

Fox simply didn’t want the child and couldn’t just cancel the auction for potential future clients, so he continued with the plan, just changing a few things.

At the auction, the little one was scared, but still answered new questions. The people winning the auction were Celia and Derek.

But in the end, Derek won just to annoy Celia.

Obviously, Derek canceled his vacation to the desert. He may be a sadist, but he understands he can’t just take a 5-year-old child to the desert.

Also, I want to mention that in this AU, Derek has his "own" house. We put it in quotes because Derek’s father is paying for the house.

Once at home, Derek left the child in a guest room and told a servant that if the child woke up, to give them something to eat and drink.

Since Derek has money and power, he simply faked the child’s death and created a new identity. It was really easy.

Now the little MC was a Goffard, essentially his "biological" child. They didn’t look alike at all, but Derek would just say the child looks more like his "deceased" mother.

Now, the thing is, Derek as a father... mmm... he’s not a great father. He simply tries. He gives you comfortable things, gives you what you like, and those things. He spoils you, but, BUT if you become arrogant or rude, he takes those things away.

So, it’s better to just be calm and do what he says.

Your education would be at home, online. So yes, he keeps you isolated just out of fear that you might be taken away again.

In conclusion, Derek is not a very present father, but he tries. He gives you things so you don’t get bored, and if he has time in his schedule, he spends time with you watching TV or talking with you, having basic conversations.

If you're interested in this AU, I'd be happy to answer your questions about these two.

Please read this post, "Chronological List."

[ourserendipity]

Shadows beneath dazzling lights

(Aventurine x Memokeeper! fem!reader)

Chatters of customers along with the clanging of champagne glasses were heard all around the casino as people wagered their bets on one another. It is suffice to say that Penacony truly is a place worth dreaming of: having to leisurely spend your time into the ravishing sights brought by the dreamscape, decorated by the illuminating towers of endless entertainment. And this night is no exception to the one and only Aventurine. He hums as he sips the glass full of tequila, relishing on the tingling pain as its aftertaste: maybe being a masochist was his thing after all, he thought. As far as he knows, nothing has yet to steal his full attention amongst the crowd of people all lathered in jewelries of gold and such, the feeling of familiarity and oddity clinging onto his back reminding him of so. Just then, as he takes a last sip on the glass, he felt a stray glance being shot to his position. 'And who might this be?' he thought to himself. Feeling enthralled by the idea of being sought by someone, it sent shivers down his spine as he eagerly gets up from the luxurious couch, ready to strike up a conversation and to hopefully make a deal with a new client friend.

You spun out your fingers at the empty glass, glancing on the blonde's position only to see him gone yet again. Seems like fate had played its tricks on you again, though not in the way you expected. Just when you were about to stand up, you were greeted by a familiar voice sitting right beside you. "Fancy seeing you here, miss memokeeper," Shit, you've been caught. " Silent as ever, huh? You sure do have ways to avoid such conflicts. Not that I would dare stir one in front of many right now," He smirks as he stares at the empty glass in your table.

"Two glasses of Cosmopolitan, please."

"Comin' right up sir!"

You stare at him in disbelief, gosh was he so sly for that one. Coughing, you briefly excuse yourself as you quickly motioned to the bartender. "No thanks, I'll have a French 75 instead"

"Ooh, quite the sharp one miss, I see. How about an icebreaker for that one? Pretty sure you don't want to embarrass this youn-"

"I said what I said," you spat out, glaring at the now smug Aventurine. He shrugs it off, silently telling the bartender to do his thing.

"Simply terrific of you. Why don't you wipe off that irk on your face and let's have a small talk, nothing fishy of course,"

"You can't even see my face, idiot."

"Ah, right. My apologies then, dear friend," he retorts, emphasizing the word 'friend'.

Silence. A long break of silence is heard between the two of you, both relishing in the awkward atmosphere lingering in the air. It may not seem like it, but you find yourself feeling a sense of peace while quietly observing the guy's figure. Sometimes, you do wonder what is up with him and his brain that piqued your interest. Was it the fact that he is a senior executive of the IPC? Maybe it was because he always seemed to win all of his games despite the odds? Or perhaps it was something about that sly and cunning facade of his? The mask he always wears in public, just like you do; in different ways that is. Whatever it is, you despise the fact that you somewhat feel pitiful around him, as if he was someone pretending who he was not meant to be, someone who is but a sheep in wolf's clothing always eager to engage in situations that would bring him thrill and adrenaline rushing through his veins. But sometimes, that pity of yours may just be in the right place at the right time.

"Excuse me ma'am and sir, I believe it's best that both of you leave this place. The bar is nearing its closing hours."

"You can leave the both of us if that's your concern. I'll rent this place for the night if that option's available"

"Sure thing sir! It's just that-"

"Dont worry, we'll make sure that we won't make any ruckus here," he chuckles, sliding some stack of freshly printed cash at the counter. Shocked by his sudden actions, the bartender takes the money and quickly leaves the place, flipping the open sign to close before fully leaving.

"You really had to do that, huh?" you sigh, shaking your head at what he did just now. Unbelievable, truly unbelievable how he could just waste his money just like that. "Why not? Thought that only two could play this kind of game?" he replies, a smirk forming on his lips.

"What kind of game you say?"

"It depends on you, miss memokeeper~"

"I'll pass."

"Aw shucks. And to think that you have something bothering you right now. Tell me, do childish games bore the likes of you? Shall I raise the stakes even higher?" he asks, ever so confident as usual.

"........."

"Ah there you are again, miss memokeeper. You're quite the kill-"

"No thanks. I'd rather have it done my way," you reply. Aventurine was so surprised to hear these words coming out of your mouth: it's usually the other way around, where he is the one always being cocky and bold. And just then as he was processing what had just happened...

"May I invite you for this... dance, Mr. Aventurine?" soft eyes meet his slightly shocked ones as you bow down, slowly placing his fingertips at the palm of your hands, leaving a soft and tender kiss on his gloved skin. There you are, standing in front of him, poised in all of your glory: body adorned with smooth silk cloth, decorated with luscious white pearls that resemble the many stars painted across the starry nights of the galaxy. Your head, crowned with an embroidered veil atop of your porcelain mask.

Oh Aeons, if he isn't already lucky enough this also happened, just when he needed something for a momentary break from his usual scheme. He ought to take this opportunity, for this is something only to be witnessed by one once in a blue moon. 'Thank Aeons I keep on winning my wagers' he muttered to himself, accepting your offer by returning the favor.

"My, my. I can't say that I would fully accept this bet of yours. But that wouldn't mean that I'd fully decline it either ~" he jokingly teases, all while standing up to meet you eye to eye.

"Either way, an offer is an offer. Regardless of its significance to you, just remember that I only take those that truly benefit me. One isn't willing to be on the losing end of every game, no?" he asks, his hands finding its way on your own.

"I'll consider that, mr. Aventurine," you hummed in response, eyes focused on his subtle movements. "However....." you look at his hands, then glance at yours.

"What is it miss memokeeper?"

"Isn't this position... a bit odd?" you question him, slightly disappointed and concerned at the same time. It seems that things are to turn awkward for the both of you yet again. He felt an awkward smile creep up to his smile upon realizing what he just did. He did not just.... Sighing, you gently let go of your hands around his to help him reposition his hands to the right place.

"This one... goes here. And the other goes... there. Perfect. Now it doesn't feel strange anymore," you replied, chuckling softly at his gesture. Repositioning both of your clasped hands on your side, you patiently wait for his response. Strangely enough, he only looked at you with a tender gaze, telling you that he is vulnerable comfortable enough to begin.

"What are you waiting for, miss memokeeper? The night is young and the game has just begun," Aventurine teases. It's not like he gets to see you like this everyday. Especially when you are always successful at avoiding his sights in broad daylight. Slowly but surely you sway your hips with him as you rock your entwined hands with him back and forth. The cold air breeze mixed with the intoxicating scent of his expensive perfume only made you feel more bolder as you tug his hands, telling him to follow your lead. It didn't help that the dim lights were making it hard for the both of you to see, but that didn't matter right now: what matters is the scene that is laid upon your very eyes, an alluring one. One that is worthy of keeping in the garden of recollection. Warm breaths fan over your neck as he brings his head down to you, putting your movement to a halt. It stayed like that for a while: Aventurine playing with the ends of your veil as he inhales your scent. Aeons was he truly dazed by your gracious beauty.

But somehow, just somehow, it would seem that empathy and pity would wash over the thrill of the moment as you unconsciously wander your hands along his back, making his body shriek a little. You let him do his own thing while you try to balance yourself, signaling to you that intoxication is starting to take its toll on your stature. It would look like that you were an emanator sent by an Aeon, and it quite is, giving how your glooming presence had taken him aback; you're going to be the death of him that's for sure.

"Tell me, does it feel suffocating?" you ask, hands lightly grazing all over his neck, looking at him with awe and concern.

"It's not like I have a say on that. I've been living on the edge long enough to blur the lines between breathing and suffocating." Aventurine replies, his breath hitching along his lines. It was obvious he was bottling up all this pent up emotions he could never truly express properly.

"....Is that so? Then.... Why don't you allow me?"

Amused by the sudden request, he chuckles at the idea. "Daring to try, I see. Remember, I don't play games with me on the losing end, friend."

"It is not a mere suggestion, Mr. IPC. It's an order," you retort monotonously, the tone of dominance lingering on your voice ever so slightly. It seems that you've got him trapped at his own game. Shrugging his shoulders, he willingly puts his hands up in the air, as if he's messing with you. "Alright alright, looks like you've caught me on that one. Do whatever you please, miss~" he responds with a sly smirk all over his face.

"............."

There is it again: the abhorrent silence quickly enveloping the dimly lit room. Only the thud of your footsteps were heard as you circle around his fragile figure, hands moving its way on his shoulder without breaking your eye contact with him. making it to his front, you slightly bow down, placing a kiss on his right hand you had just swiftly placed on the palm of your unoccupied hand. Standing up, you set yourselves in a sensual pace as you lead him to dance freely, still making sure that he was on the same tempo as you. Perfect, now's your chance to secretly pry unto his past in hopes of collecting new, unfound memories; all the while he was distracted by your moves.

Distraught by what's happening, Aventurine closes his eyes as you lead him senselessly. He expects you to use him in such ways one could not easily comprehend, but this is far better from what he had anticipated. Had he not let his guard down, this would have end up very differently. Still, he let it all happen at once, waiting for the right time to strike. And that's where it hit him: this was the perfect opportunity to flip you off your table to gain an upper hand. Just as you were about to spin, he swiftly cages you in his hands, giving him the time to clasp your hands with his while the other tightly grips onto your waist. Now it's his turn to dominate this friendly duel. It became harder for you to encapsulate his memories as he leads you in the heat of the battle: the pace turning faster and more intense. You try to break free from his grasp when you look at his eyes, gazing at you oh so tenderly. You can't help but look back at him with awe as your bodies twist and turn around each other.

"That's it, miss memokeeper. Look at me, look at me as if I were weak and pathetic. Gaze into my eyes and tell me what you see. Go ahead and strip me of everything I had, my past even, it's all yours; all yours" he whispers to you, as if he was begging.

Looking into his eyes dread of light, you tap onto the murky abyss that is his whole existence: the fall of his nation, his demise in the hands of the duke, all the constant suffering he had endured just to witness the sunset he had wished to see with his long lost sister. All of it, locked behind his eyes devoid of life. Somehow, it made you feel like you wanted, no, you needed to puke out. Such things should not be experienced by one, let alone at a young age. You feel the presence of IX gazing over you, having you on its chokehold, ready to end your existence simply by its sheer force of nothingness crushing over you; leaving you with no choice but to forcefully close your eyes in hopes of escaping death itself. You successfully escaped your fate of turning into nothing but dust. Doing so however, you also left the blonde man all alone in the dreamscape, isolated in his own world of thoughts processing what had just happened. He was all alone again, just like what he's used to.

It was truly strange how despite being in the path of preservation, the Aeon of nihility lurks over that man. Perhaps now is not the time to know the truth, but there is one thing you're very sure of: that there will be time where you'll meet him again. And whether it is in at the time of uncertainty or his demise even, you were certain that only fate itself would allow you to peek into his hollow eyes for one last time, hopefully keeping all what's left in him in his final moments.

(Totally not inspired by that acheswan animation from mihoyo themselves, no no 🫣🫣 Also aventurine's pov will be posted at some time ig)

[falling-star-cygnus]

I need Billy comfort after the one where he got trapped under a building, can you please make him be saved?

well since you asked so nicely, how could i refuse?

continuation of this fic‼️ you don’t have to read it, of course, but it will make this whole thing make more sense :D @starguardianniom [your request is on the way, i just thought you might also like to be tagged in the part two :D]

without further ado~

"BILLY!"

She doesn't know which one of them screams it, maybe it was all three, but Anby lunges for the android's jacket- lunges really for any part of him she might be able to grab- until her hands close on red leather. The inevitable weight of his metal body doesn't cross her mind until she's being tugged down with him.

The feeble floor cracks further under Anby’s feet as she digs her heels in. That damned, annoying Ethereal shrieks- probably much louder than what she can hear through her headphones- and stomps like a spoiled child being told no for the first time. She'll put it out of it’s misery once she gets Billy- too still, too unresponsive- back onto safer ground.

Only ...Anby never gets the chance.

The ground jumps under her feet, and the tight grip she had on his jacket futzs.

Billy falls.

Hands and arms wrap around her waist before she can do something stupid like leap down after him. An action she knows is irrational but all she can hear is the way the android hits each level of the building and she needs to get him back-

"ANBY-! WE NEED TO GO."

Of course. Right. Clarity washes over her like cold water; Anby can't save Billy if she's dead too. And he would just feel bad if she got hurt trying to save him, because he had no regard for himself-

The remaining members of the Cunning Hares' fumble out of building just in time to see it topple like a house of cards- with their former client pinned in front of them by a slab of concrete.

It flails a little bit- kinda like a bug does when you grab it's leg- and they're privy to a front row seat as a metal support beam crashes into the weird orb of it's head. The thing splatters like a paintball.

None of them feel much remorse.

A few seconds of silence go by, passed by the girls simply.. staring.

"Well…. alright, Hares," Nicole starts, dusting her hands off, "Divide and conquer. Billy has to be around here somewhere."

'Hopefully.' goes unsaid, but painfully heard.

"R-Right!" Nekomata pipes up, her tails lashing with nervous energy, "I’m sure we’ll find him in no time! He can’t really keep quiet, anyway, y- you know?"

Anby doesn’t say anything at all.

They split up, taking turns calling the android's name and pouncing on any slight glimpse of white or red or yellow. Even greenish black would be better than nothing. Each empty nook, each second of silence, grated on their nerves until they were like frayed live wires.

Usually, Billy kept track of how long the Cunning Hares' stayed in a Hollow. It kept them all from lingering too long, unless they got stuck, and it kept them safe. Why couldn't they keep Billy safe- Now they had no idea how long they'd been searching.

Nicole had moved on to bargaining with empty air.

"Billy," she calls, heaving a heavy pillar to the side with a huff, "Come on, answer already! I won't yell at you anymore, or whack you or- or anything. Just answer us, please!"

"And I won't make fun of how you like to listen to classical music to fall asleep!" Nekomata joins in, from somewhere to Anby's left, "I'll even go to Random Play with you to find more, meow!"

"I'll watch Starlight Knights with you," It couldn't hurt to join in after all, Anby decides, "We could all go to the restaurant, and invite the Phaethon siblings, and-"

It was like something out of one of her movies. The second Anby pushes aside a new piece of rubble, she sees it. A tattered piece of the android's jacket- connected to tattered sleeves and sparking metal arms and a big fluffy head of white hair.

The relief almost sends the smaller Demara to her knees.

Time and place, she reminds herself fiercely, quickly signaling the other two closer to better excavate their friend. He's not in any form of good condition. It doesn't even look like he's conscious.

One of his video sensors is cracked, infected with a galactic black sludge that glows a mixture of pinkish blue red purple. The rest of his plating was pulsating green, and severe corruption was blooming anywhere it could take root.

It even looked like his audio processers were damaged. Anby couldn't even imagine how that must felt for her hyperactive friend- stuck in a silent, cramped space while Ether ate at his mind. Trapped without knowing that they were looking for him.

She hoped he would know anyway, that he wouldn't be wondering if he'd die alone under the weight of a building. Billy wasn't exactly insecure, but...

Anby shakes herself out of thinking about it. They'd found him, that was all that mattered at the moment. Now the Hares' just had to get him back home and back in working order.

"Both of you, stand back!" Nicole orders, aiming her briefcase above the wreckage pinning the android's lower torso.

The smaller girls are quick to comply, and out of the corner of her eye she can see the thiren swipe something golden off the ground. Nekomata shows it to her in silent explanation before shoving it deep into her sleeve for safekeeping.

Billy's little sheriff star.

A shot goes off before the smaller Demara can dwell on it, and suddenly the rubble atop their friend is being vacuumed up into the blackhole that Nicole manifests. They each grab a metal limb and tug him out of range.

One problem taken care of, another appears. The corruption blooming from his joints is excessive. If they take him out of the Hollow like this...

"We don't have time to think about it," Nicole reminds them all, voice tight with the weight of the android's life, "Anby, cut off as many of these... things as you can without hurting him. We'll see what we can do from there."

Anby nods once, and readies her sword.

One, two, four, eight turns to sixteen and sixteen turns to the very last one being cut down without mercy. With each bud removed, the sickly green light between his plates fades until it's barely there at all. There's not much to be done about the crack over his eye until they make it to a mechanic, but even that seems to lose it's glitchy appearance.

The Cunning Hares' don't bother with fighting the Ethereals they pass- there's no time- so it's mad dash to the exit that jostles the android's already crushed legs.

....Billy really was all limbs and pizazz.

It's only once the reunited Hares' make it a good deal from the Hollow that they stop running, doubled over and desperate for a full breath. Anby takes a quick survey of their surroundings as she gently lowers Billy to the ground, propped up on her lap to at least provide a little comfort.

It looks they ended up in Belobog territory, around where that eccentric mechanic liked to linger around. Gary-? Grail? Whatever...

Nekomata crouches down next to them and fishes the little star out of her sleeve. It's battered, and kind of dented around the points, but it still clips onto the leather like it never left.

Anby can vaguely hear Nicole tap away at her phone behind her, the curses muttered almost like a soothing balm of normalcy as the last of the corruption finally leaves Billy. His cracked eye returns to it's familiar shade of yellow- if painfully dull compared to his normal vibrancy.

But he's still unresponsive.

Still so hauntingly quiet and still. It's unnatural, and it isn't right. And none of them know if the android's going to last until tomorrow. Or even until the next hour.

Unbidden, Anby can feel her lower lip tremble- can feel stinging behind her eyes as she continues to run her hand through dusty white hair. It held none of the softness it did before this whole... job. Before her stupid grip had fumbled.

Anby hadn't cried in years, yet now she finds she can only helplessly watch as the salt splatters against the android's face plate. Like a mimicry of tears he wasn't built to shed.

"AhHh- Anby, don't cry," Nekomata frets, clearly freaked out by the uncharacteristic display, "He'll be okay! Bil- Billy's tough as nails, remember? I haven't known him for as long as you two.. but even I can tell that!"

Her puffy sleeves gently pat at the smaller Demara's face, trying to clear away the stupid liquid that was blurring her vision. Soft mantras of 'he'll be ok' are whispered, even as the thiren herself starts to cry.

Anby hunches over, would be curling into her knees if it wasn't for the weight of the unmoving android on her lap, and Nekomata clutches onto the lapels of his jacket and stifles a hiccup by biting down on her lip.

He wasn't coming back to them this time.

He wouldn't be there in the morning to braid her hair, or entertain her movie references, or lighten the mood with his silly Starlight Knight quips. He wouldn't be there to help them reach tall shelves, or distract their clients while Nicole emptied their bank accounts, or flail about with his lanky limbs.

Billy wouldn't be there.

...

..creak...

...Creak..

Creak.

Cool metal fingers brush past Anby's face, and then Nekomata's, and then fall limply back to the hard concrete.

"...don't... cry.."

...

...!

Billy!

Warm light finally flickers to life behind the android's video sensors, dimmer than normal but there.

Anby feels as though her heart's been restarted. Like the world had suddenly been bleached of color only for it to be a really badly timed greyscale shot.

Billy was alive, and whirring back into gear under their hands.

"You guys... really came for me..?"

"You big dummy!" Nekomata sniffs, ears and tails poofed like she'd been startled, "of course we did!"

"Have more faith in us," Anby echoes the thiren, resting her forehead against the android's with one final sniff. Nekomata rests her's against the diamond on his chest.

He can't hear them, his audio processers are still busted, but Anby hopes he can feel their care for him. Hopes he can feel how much they love him, and that they were here to stay no matter what happened. Just like he was for them.

Billy Kid was the heart of the Cunning Hares', after all.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"All right, guys, I hope you all come to the stream in four hours! Aren't you all soooo excited to see such a big, soft pair of breasts like mine get completely destroyed? Judging by all the DMs I get from men practically begging me to get them chopped off and livestream it, I'd say a lot of you. I know, some of you would far rather me continue taking breast growth drugs and get these puppies so massive I need a wheelbarrow to get around. And that would be fun, but it's so much naughtier to ruin something so perfect......

Well, the actual reason is simpler! I'm a personal trainer, and work with lots of different clients from all walks of life. I met a really cute surgeon who was enamored with my breasts as all my other clients. He asked to touch them, grope them, I began offering to let him suck them as a reward for meeting his goals, as I did with most of my male clients. I swear half the time our gym looked less like a gym and more like some adult breastfeeding lounge. All of us girls with breasts as huge as mine or bigger, smothering our male clients with our giant breasts, enthusiastically letting them drink our milk as we jerk off their cocks. A nice job well done for completing their routines.....

This guy was different, he marveled at my tits in a different way. His mouth watered, but not the way I'm used to. He pulled away from my breast one day and confessed that he fantasized about chopping off my boobs. His cock got so hard in my hand I thought it would erupt right then and there. He said he only became a surgeon to convince huge-breasted girls they needed their tits chopped off, usually tricking them or lying to them, making up a story about lumps or tumors or family history necessitating a rather graphic double mastectomy, always streamed live to his Instagram.

I watched his content and never in my life have I masturbated with so much raw energy. I felt as desperate as all the gym dudes I breastfed and jerked off. Dozens and dozens of beautiful girls with breasts my size, sometimes bigger, sometimes quite smaller, all awake. They watched curiously as he administered a paralyzing drug that made it so they couldn't move. Though some of the girls were outright paralyzed from the shoulders down for the surgery, usually at the behest of their husband or boyfriend. The surgeon would use a creative variety of ways to remove the girls' big gorgeous boobs, sometimes being casual and simply dismantling them with a few scalpels and other surgical tools, with the help of his pretty assistant, a cheery blonde who was often extremely pregnant. Boy, I wonder who kept her so enormously pregnant? What a mystery.....

Other times, the surgeon would use absurd methods like placing the girls' tits on a cutting board and just chopping them off with a weapon like an axe or sword. You couldn't say the guy wasn't passionate. After watching more of his 'surgery' videos than I care to admit, I called him sweating, rubbing my cunt despite having just orgasmed about fifteen times in the last three or four hours. I was coated in my juices. I was exhausted, almost ready to pass out. I told him I wanted him to destroy my breasts as soon as possible. But on one condition..... I wanted him to crush my tits. Flatten them, so the fat bursts out the sides, making a total mess. He seemed to love this idea. Now I'm sitting here in my work uniform. His personal trainer, coming in to take some punishment of my own for a change. Call it payback for pushing him so hard at the gym, or a reward for doing so well. Either way, I can't wait for millions to tune in and watch my gorgeous, fat titties get crushed like pancakes! Then maybe I'll have the surgeon take a few pics of me with my empty, saggy tits as a new profile picture..... Maybe I'll try to jiggle them and put on a show for you? While they're still numb..... then what's left will be sliced off and tossed in the trash, where my fat, oversized cow tits truly belong! ❤️"