What Is Deku's Mom's Name

Please…” I begged wanting him to do more. My body shook when he increased the pace.I dropped my back to the desk and arched my back.His mouth found my clit and I let out a deep moan. I could feel the pressure building up. “Greg,I'm so…so close.” I whimpered. His movement slowed a bit. “No!” I cried. “Please.” I could feel the smile tugging in his lips as he continued to lick on my clit. “Please…” I begged even more,my voice sounding needy even to my own ears. He increased his pace.Fingering me faster and harder. My toes curled as I felt the pressure about to explode inside of me. “I'm going to cum..” “Then do so,show me how good you can be and cum for me.” Pressure exploded through me,my whole body shaking from it all.I let my head rest on the desk as I tried to catch my breathe. His arms came around me, lifted me up and wrapped me in his arms. “Thank you.” I whispered. He planted a light kiss on my shoulder and just held me. I pulled back and looked him in the eye. “That was my first orgasm.” I announced proudly,warmth filling my heart. He smiled and leaned in.”How about another one.” ******************************************* Sex. That was the only reason Emillia Winslow got married to the Mafia Billionaire, Gregory Densmore. Being deeply religious,she is thrown into a world that contrasts her belief. There is no remorse,no confessions and no forgiveness. Will She manage to bring light into the dark or will the dark engulf her,forcing her to bring out her shadow self.

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."

A Gen Z employee named Sylvie Mercer has reported me to the Department of Labor by claiming that I've forced all employees to work on the year-end holidays. But the truth is, I've given the entire company a nine-day vacation just to celebrate the year-end holidays. Those who are willing to work overtime shifts will be paid three times their usual salaries and given an additional five-thousand-dollar bonus. Sylvie keeps crying on the internet about how all the employees, including her, are forced to trade their lives for money. Thanks to her, the entire Internet keeps bashing me. So, I decide to follow the public opinion by releasing an announcement. "In order to ensure all employees' health, the company's doors shall be locked during the year-end holidays. Do note that the electric supply will be cut off as well. No one is permitted entry into the company." As soon as the announcement is released, the employees who plan on earning extra money in order to pay off their mortgages all rush toward my office in alarm.

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

I rush into work this morning and accidentally send the car photos meant for the dealership into the medical intern group chat. The new intern snaps at me. "Dr. Tyson, why are you sending me pictures of my car? Are you jealous and trying to steal attention?" I stop short and ask if she has mixed things up, because the car is mine. She fires back with a whole stack of photos of herself driving a G-class with one hand, plus videos to prove the car in my picture belongs to her. She even tacks on a snide little jab. "You're a shameless, broke wannabe. You want any spotlight you can grab. You think a picture of a car is going to make you the lady of the Reed family?" I frown and turn to my husband, Jackson Reed. "Since when does the Reed family have a second lady of the house?"

I've been working for five years now. This is the first time my mom takes the initiative to call me to go home for the holidays. So I travel home with heaps of luggage. Still, I manage to free one hand to produce an envelope filled with cash and give it to my mom. A grin blooms on her face instantly. But when she realizes that there's only ten thousand dollars in the envelope, her grin starts to falter. "Oh, it only makes sense that you're the most manipulative out of the bunch after all these years." I pause momentarily as I'm about to go through the front door. "You've been working for quite a few years now, and yet you only bring home ten thousand bucks. Meanwhile, Sabrina gave us 100 thousand dollars in her first year of working a nice job. Having a bachelor's degree definitely pays off a lot!" Upon noticing how stunned I look, my mom yanks the gifts over right away. "Don't go around looking as though we owe you a life debt, Regina! See, Sabrina has better grades than you, and she doesn't have the intention of hiding anything from us. The gifts she always brings us are top-end supplements, so you should stop bringing us cheap stuff like this." I can only grip the hems of my shirt tightly. But the thing is, I'm the one with better scores back then…

This is the seventh year of my arranged marriage to Frank Jackson, yet he is constantly seeing other women. Because of that, I become known in our circle as the ever-tolerant wife. Everyone is watching and waiting to see when a mistress will finally replace me. But when I unexpectedly get pregnant, I hear a furious voice screaming at me from my belly in my mind. "Mommy, are you some holy saint? In your past life, you kept tolerating everything. That was exactly why my scumbag dad's mistress drove you out and left you for dead on the streets! "That vile woman is practically trampling all over you. How can you not fight back? Slap her! While you're at it, give my fool of a dad a good slap, too! The more you tolerate, the more people push their luck. You need to stand up for yourself and divorce that scumbag!" I swallow nervously, but my hand is already itching to act. Maybe I should try doing what the baby says...

The world is indeed cruel; the Beckett family was bankrupt and in debt as a result of their father's early death. Poppy, as the eldest daughter, decided to look for work due to the remaining responsibilities. She persisted and was hired as a secretary at the well-known Westbridge Company, led by CEO Caden West. Caden is known for being grumpy, egoistic and being a woman hater. Unbeknownst to Poppy, Caden has a hidden grudge against her and will do anything to make her suffer. What is Caden's hidden grudge against Poppy? Will Poppy be able to work with her boss who despises her? Or give up right away due to its poor treatment?

Ivy Sinclair never expected her father's last desperate move to be selling her off like a pawn—to the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Lucien Blackwood doesn't believe in love. But he believes in power, and marrying Ivy gives him just that—until the fire in her eyes threatens to melt the ice around his heart. Their vows are signed in ink and built on lies. She’s determined to protect her soul. He’s hiding demons that could destroy them both. But what starts as a calculated business arrangement spirals into a dangerous obsession. Secrets bleed. Betrayals burn. And when the past comes back with blood on its hands, their fragile union may be the only thing standing between survival and ruin. He owns her name. She could own his heart. But only if they don’t destroy each other first. In this house of fortune, love is the most dangerous currency.

What do you do when the only safe place left belongs to the man who’s been lying to you? I’m twelve weeks pregnant with my abusive ex’s baby. He's been tracking my phone, controlling my life. And when I finally run, there's only one door left to knock on — his best friend's apartment. Jeremy took me in. No questions. No judgment. Just his bed, his quiet presence, and one reckless lie: at the hospital, he'll say the baby is his. For the first time in years, I feel safe. But I’m starting to realize: the man who saved me might be the reason I needed saving. Because Jeremy’s been in love with me for three years—and he never said a word. Because my best friend Reina has been sleeping with Ryan behind my back—and she’s not done destroying me yet. Because Ryan just found out about the pregnancy—and he’s coming for his child. The question is: can I survive the truth—or will it destroy me faster than Ryan ever could?