Curl Up With Me

a/n: i wish i was the trophy…

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧/𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙫𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨

The quiet hum of your straightener filled the bathroom, blending with the occasional hiss of steam and the slow rhythm of your thoughts.

You stared at your reflection face blank, hands moving on autopilot. Each pass of the iron over your curls made you feel a little less… you. But today, that was the point. You didn’t want to feel like you. Not the you who woke up with frizz haloing your face. Not the you who needed three different products just to define one curl. Not the you who overheard someone in school say “imagine waking up looking like that.”

Kenan wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour.

You sighed and sectioned off another chunk of hair, pulling it taut.

One half of your hair was already pin-straight, lying flat against your cheek. The contrast between that and your still-curly side looked almost theatrical like two versions of you were staring back. One polished. One real.

The door creaked open, followed by soft footsteps.

“Babe?”

You froze.

Kenan’s voice echoed from the hallway. You fumbled with the iron, switching it off quickly as he padded into the bathroom in socks and sweats, hair still damp from a late training session.

His eyes landed on you instantly.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly.

You avoided his gaze. “Just… fixing my hair.”

Kenan tilted his head. “You never straighten it.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he crossed the space between you, stopping just behind your chair. You kept your eyes on the mirror, hoping he couldn’t see the flicker of embarrassment on your face.

“Talk to me.”

You hesitated, then said, “I just needed a change.”

His eyes flickered to the half-done style. “From what? From the curls I literally drool over?”

You let out a weak laugh. “They’re annoying.”

“They’re you.”

“Exactly,” you whispered.

Kenan crouched beside your chair, resting his chin on your shoulder. His eyes met yours in the mirror, dark and honest and a little confused.

“Did something happen?”

You shrugged. “It’s stupid. I was just tired of feeling like the messy one. Everyone else looks… sleek, effortless. I look like I got electrocuted half the time.”

Kenan blinked, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Then, wordlessly, he reached up and gently tugged the straightened side of your hair away from your face, letting it fall behind your ear.

He reached for the untouched curls next, twirling a loose coil around his finger. His touch was careful, reverent. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

“I’m gonna say something, and you better listen to every word, okay?”

You nodded, heart caught in your throat.

“I don’t just like your curls. I’m obsessed with them. I dream about them. I’ve seen you right after a shower, when they’re wild and dripping, and I swear, you look like art. I’ve watched you twist them up before bed and wake up with one sticking out like a satellite and still thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You tried to look away, overwhelmed, but he gently turned your chin back toward the mirror.

“I know you’ve got your reasons for straightening it tonight. And I’ll never tell you how to wear your hair. But if you ever think you need to change it to look better for me or for anyone else, I’m gonna have a problem.”

Your throat tightened.

“I love you in all versions, babe,” he continued. “But those curls? They’re not just part of your hair. They’re part of your power. They’re a statement.”

You didn’t mean to cry, but a single tear slipped down your cheek. Kenan caught it with his thumb before it could fall.

“You really like them that much?” you whispered.

“I’d bury my face in them every night if you let me.”

You snorted. “You already do.”

“Exactly. And I still can’t get enough.”

You turned to him, eyes shining. “Can you… help me wash this out?”

His expression softened. “Yeah. Course I can.”

Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom was steamy and warm, your hands full of conditioner as Kenan knelt beside the tub, gently rinsing the straightened strands and helping coax your curls back to life.

He massaged your scalp with the pads of his fingers, whispering, “So perfect,” under his breath like it was second nature.

And when the mirror finally showed your reflection again frizz, coils, baby hairs and all you didn’t see a mess.

You saw love. You saw him.

And maybe, just maybe, you started seeing yourself the way he always had.

Behind Closed Screens

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮, 𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙮, 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙣𝙤 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩

You settled into your usual cozy corner, the fairy lights glowing softly behind you. Your phone’s camera blinked on, and within seconds you were live. The familiar rush of nervous excitement hit your chest. You’d done live streams hundreds of times, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the weight of the questions you expected or the secret you were guarding.

“Hey, everyone!” Your smile was bright but you could feel the flutter in your stomach. “Thanks for joining me today. Just wanted to hang out, answer some questions, and maybe spill a little tea.”

The chat exploded instantly.

“Are you and Kenan really together???”

“Come on, spill it! We all know you are hiding something!”

“Show us your boyfriend!”

“Kenan’s name keeps popping up everywhere. What’s going on??”

You chuckled softly. The excitement was electric. You typed a quick reply:

“You guys are wild. No comment for now.”

You loved Kenan. You loved this secret just as much. You had been quietly seeing him for months. No pressure, no spotlight, no prying eyes. This was your space, your rules.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as more messages rolled in.

“So when are we getting a boyfriend reveal?”

“We want proof!”

“Kenan better be treating you right.”

You leaned closer to the camera, voice light and teasing.

“I know you all have wild imaginations,” you said with a wink, “but if I ever want to share, you’ll be the first to know.”

Someone commented:

“What about that necklace you’re wearing? Looks like a K.”

You felt a sudden chill despite the warm room. Your fingers brushed the delicate chain around your neck. You had completely forgotten you were wearing it. A tiny silver pendant, the letter K, gleaming softly against your skin.

Your heart skipped.

The chat suddenly exploded again.

“Wait, is that a K necklace???”

“OMG that’s so obvious now.”

“Spill the tea!”

Your cheeks warmed as the weight of all eyes on that tiny detail pressed down on you. You fumbled for a response.

Just then your phone vibrated. A text from Kenan popped up.

Kenan: You’re killing me with all these questions. Can’t wait to see you tonight.

You smiled, your fingers flying.

“Same here. Don’t let me slip up.”

Your viewers’ messages continued to pour in.

“Show us the necklace close up!”

“You’re blushing! Admit it!”

“Tell us how cute Kenan is!”

You laughed nervously and tried to steer the conversation away.

“Okay, okay,” you said quickly. “I actually have a call in two minutes, so I have to end the live here. Thanks for hanging out. You all are amazing. Catch you later!”

You clicked “end” with a racing heart. Quickly you unclasped the necklace and slipped it into your jewelry box. The secret felt heavier now, more fragile.

⸻

Text Messages:

Kenan: You’re so cute when you panic. I’m counting down the minutes.

You: Shut up. You’re the worst.

Kenan: I’m the best. See you soon.

You smiled as you got ready for your date night. Some secrets were hard to keep, but this one was worth it.

The knock on your door came exactly forty-five minutes later. You barely had time to finish touching up your mascara when you heard Kenan’s voice on the other side.

“It’s me.”

You opened the door to see him standing there in a hoodie, sweats, and that smug little grin that drove you insane. He looked at you like he already knew everything that had happened on your stream.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“You were adorable,” he said immediately. “Like… watching you panic live on tiktok was my favorite thing this week.”

You groaned and hit him playfully on the arm. “Don’t start.”

Kenan kicked off his shoes, walking straight into your living room like he belonged there, which he basically did at this point. He dropped onto the couch and looked up at you, arms stretched out.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

You curled up beside him, hiding your face in his chest as he chuckled softly and ran his hand up and down your back.

“So let me get this straight,” he said with mock seriousness. “You put on the necklace I gave you. Went live. Talked about how private we are. And then tilted your head just enough so the entire world could catch a glint of the K resting on your very kissable collarbone.”

You groaned again. “It was a mistake! I wasn’t thinking.”

He grinned against your hair. “Mm-hm. And then you ended the live like you were being chased.”

“I panicked! The comments were going insane!”

Kenan pulled back slightly to look at you. His eyes were soft, teasing but sweet. “They just want what we have. Not gonna lie, I kinda loved watching you try not to blush.”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to make it obvious. I just wanted a little more time where it’s just us. No pressure. No chaos.”

He nodded. “I get it. I love our little world.”

You glanced at the necklace sitting on your side table. He followed your gaze, then reached over and picked it up, letting it dangle from his fingers for a moment.

“Put it back on,” he said gently. “You looked beautiful wearing it.”

You hesitated for half a second, then turned around so he could clasp it behind your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin, making you shiver slightly.

“There,” he said softly. “Now you’re officially marked again.”

You turned to face him, heart fluttering. “That’s not what this means.”

“I know,” he said. “But let me pretend.”

You snorted. “Possessive much?”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Only with you.”

There was a long, warm pause between you. His hand stayed on your thigh. Your head leaned into his chest. For a few minutes, you both just sat there, letting the noise of the world fade away.

Then your phone vibrated. You peeked at it. Notifications from the live stream were still rolling in.

Kenan noticed. “You know, you don’t have to answer any of that.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But I also feel guilty keeping it all a secret.”

He tilted your chin up to face him. “It’s not forever. We’ll tell them when we’re ready. But right now… I like having you to myself.”

You smiled. “Same.”

Kenan leaned in slowly, like he had all the time in the world. His lips brushed yours gently, then a little deeper. The kiss was slow, warm, grounding. It said everything he hadn’t.

When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, heart steadying again.

“I’m really glad it’s you,” you whispered.

He grinned. “I know.”

You rolled your eyes and smacked his chest, but your heart was full. Even with the world watching, even with the questions piling up, you knew one thing for sure

Whatever happened next, you and Kenan were in it together.

a/n: congratfuckulations to the person that marries him 💔💔

thank you love! i normally write write lol but for now i write what you guys request!! i normally get into the mood to imagine what y/n what do in her pov if you get what i mean 😭 and the same with the male roles 👅👅 and idk how write so fast since i do three essay based subjects writing became so easy and natural to do!! lmk if you need any help with ur fics!!

Work Hard, Play Harder

masterlist👅

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙀𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙭 (𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙡, 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜), 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠, 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙢 (𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚), 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡.

You settled at your desk in your shared apartment, laptop open, headset strapped on, ready to dive into the all-important quarterly review with your team. Your calendar had warned you all day that this meeting was going to be a marathon. You’d planned to be laser-focused, dressed sharp and professional, prepared to impress.

But as you clicked “Join Meeting” and saw the familiar faces of your coworkers pop up, you felt a presence behind you warm, expectant, familiar.

“Hey,” Jude whispered low, pressing his chest against your back.

You smiled, but immediately remembered the stakes. “Jude, please. Not now. I’ve got to focus.”

His fingers began to massage the muscles at the base of your neck, slow and lingering. “You always say that. But you look so tense. I think you need a break.”

You bit your lip, blinking rapidly to hide the flush creeping up your neck. His touch was electric impossible to ignore.

The voice of your team lead echoed through your headset, breaking your train of thought. “Okay, can we get your thoughts on the new projections?”

“Right,” you answered, trying to steady your voice. “I believe we’re seeing a 10% increase this quarter, largely due to the new marketing strategy and expanded outreach.”

Jude’s fingers dipped beneath the collar of your blouse, tracing your collarbone. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your eyes on the screen.

“Sounds impressive,” Jude whispered. “I bet I could make you sound even better.”

“Jude!” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one could see you.

“Just warming you up,” he teased, slipping his hand under your waistband, fingertips grazing your hip.

Your breathing quickened. The meeting droned on, but all you heard was his voice, his breath on your skin, the delicious teasing of his hands.

Your fingers twitched on the keyboard, struggling to keep up as Jude’s palm slid lower, tracing the curve of your waist, then dipping beneath the fabric of your pants. Your mouth went dry.

“Focus,” you tried again, but Jude chuckled softly.

“I don’t want you to focus. I want you to feel.” His lips brushed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “And right now, you feel me.”

Your cheeks burned as his fingers teased the sensitive skin just above your hipbone. You shifted slightly, trying to hide the flush from your webcam.

The team leader spoke again, this time asking for your input on the timeline for deliverables.

You cleared your throat, voice barely steady. “We’re on track to meet the next deadline, with contingency plans in place should anything unexpected arise.”

Jude’s fingers curled, pressing just enough to make you gasp silently. His other hand slid up your thigh, fingertips tracing lazy circles.

“Babe,” he whispered, “you’re so good at this. But I’m better at making you feel good.”

You bit your lip to keep from moaning. “Jude, please.”

He smiled against your neck, teeth grazing your skin lightly. “Please what?”

You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your composure as he slipped a hand beneath your panties, fingers teasing your wetness through the thin fabric.

“Jude!” you hissed again, eyes flicking to the camera as a coworker nodded approvingly on the screen.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “No one’s watching as closely as you think.”

His hand moved with practiced skill, stroking and teasing, sending waves of pleasure that made it harder and harder to concentrate.

You closed your eyes briefly, fighting the urge to let go. “Focus,” you breathed, but your voice cracked under the pressure.

Jude’s lips found the curve of your shoulder, sucking softly. “Good girl.”

His fingers slipped inside you, curling just so, making you bite down on your bottom lip.

The client on the call asked a question, and you scrambled to answer, voice shaky but professional. Jude’s teasing continued, his hand now moving faster, slick and wet.

You fought to stay present, but your body was betraying you, the heat pooling between your thighs growing unbearable.

“Jude, please,” you gasped, voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled darkly, fingers never stopping. “You want to come during a meeting? That’s my girl.”

Your legs trembled. You pressed your palms flat on the desk, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“Almost there,” Jude whispered, lips moving to your jawline.

You clenched, biting your lip hard, the sensation building unbearably.

“Come for me,” Jude urged, voice low and commanding.

Your orgasm hit like a thunderclap, breath leaving you in ragged gasps. Jude’s fingers kept moving, coaxing every last shudder.

When you finally opened your eyes, Jude was smiling down at you, victorious.

The call ended moments later, and you leaned back against him, flushed and trembling.

“You did great,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You smiled tiredly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jude pulled you close. “Next time, maybe we don’t wait for a meeting to have some fun.”