#So just suspend reality for me if you would

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning

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chapter synopsis:

'“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality it’s just what I want to happen. But this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.”

You haven’t told her you love her too in years.'

'And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.”

“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.”

“You love him a lot,” Megumi says.

---

You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).

You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.

word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)

17-6-2018 

The two of you walk down the lane. It’s midnight. There’s a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when you’re not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there. 

At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but it’s of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway. 

There’s a million things you could say to him right now, things you’ll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things you’ll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now you’re holding his wrist and that’s enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each other— not together— in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before. 

If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that you’re sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky. 

“The turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.” 

“I know the routes better,” you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming for— you hope it doesn’t hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, “I got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.” 

You’re not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you weren’t. 

It’s strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter. 

And now you’re this— this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be useful— and even that has been exacerbated by how you’ve grown, how you’ve become this person you grew into. And a part of you— no, just you as a whole— doesn’t like yourself at all. 

Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caring— you don’t know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time you’d cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself. 

That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But you’d been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now there’s a space for her that’s left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you don’t want her back. Now that’s just what makes you miserable sometimes. 

Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road. 

“It’s here,” you state, pointing at the building in front of you. 

Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasn’t been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears. 

“You and that Itadori seem close.” 

“We are,” you say, then you add, not really knowing why, “He’s my best friend.” Maybe you’re trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldn’t want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if you’d already resolved not to do so. 

You’ll make sure not to do that again, though. 

Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. “Then it seems you visit his grandfather often.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. “My mother’s here, too.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry— is she alright?” 

“She’s okay, I… think. She… she got sick a while back and stays here now,” you explain, “Let’s not talk about that…—I mean, I… don’t really want to.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to keep saying that.” It just makes people feel worse. 

He doesn’t push further and you suppose that’s okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound that’s still there. There’s not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe it’s being a girl, maybe it’s being a teenager, but it’s not quite either, you guess. 

“He won’t be here for a while,” you say, “He’s either still in the room where his grandfather is or he’s buying flowers for him.” 

“Then I’ll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.” 

Who’s ‘them’? 

“Okay.” You turn your back on him, “—wait.” 

“What?” 

“Do you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?” 

“...why would you need one?” he questions. 

You roll your eyes, “Just give it to me, damn it… if there’s anything I have nowadays, it’s probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.” 

He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Why’d he have to be so pissy about anything and everything? 

“Okay, thanks. I’m going to visit my mother now.” 

The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was. 

“Hi, Mummy.” 

She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from it— that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy. 

The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, you’ve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isn’t waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there. 

Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facing— regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didn’t want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from. 

Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didn’t want to liberate herself from it anyway, and you’d never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (You’d regret everything— not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enough— except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and is— your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.” 

“Hello. Where’s that Itadori boy?” 

“Not here today, he’s still with his grandfather— maybe later.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. “I’ve something for you, by the way.” 

“Oh! These,” she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. “I used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.” 

“I know,” you explain, “That’s why I made them. I don’t like them anymore, but… I can’t remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you don’t like the food they give you here as much as… I don’t know. Your own cooking, I guess.” 

“It’s not my favourite,” she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, “But thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own mother’s cooking.” 

Silence. 

“Now that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. I’d like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your father’s— at least you would not leave the world with regret,” she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. “But it was a good life.” 

“...then maybe you can tell me more. While you— while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?” It feels strange, imposturous, maybe— to be referring to someone basically a stranger as “grandmother”, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your mother’s. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. There’s a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once you’d grown, but there’s a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time. 

She sighs, “I’ll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,” she begins, “I’ll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway. 

“My parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I can’t remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving. 

“I still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demure— and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didn’t have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my father’s bullheaded industry and my mother’s patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my mother’s family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just… surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I… suppose they didn’t love me enough. I know it sounds awful— thinking that they should have always protected me, through and through—” 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

“—when it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.” 

“But they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parents—” 

“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality it’s just what I want to happen, but this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.” You haven’t told her you love her too in years. 

“But then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,” she continues, “Even though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.” 

Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father. 

“And now the clan’s faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?” 

“...yeah.” It all ended well, but you don’t know if you can say the same for your mother’s. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did. 

Then suddenly there’s a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue. 

“You should go get that first,” she says. 

“...okay.” 

You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you haven’t called in months because you’d given up on that bastard— oh. The two of you were working together now. 

You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he… doesn’t seem like the brightest. He may think that it’s not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.” 

You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, “Hey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. He’s way smarter than people give him credit for. But I’m— I’m with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldn’t need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.” 

“...fine. But you’ll have to join us later. He’s bound to ask about you.” 

“Then just tell him I’m with my mother!” you snap, still whispering. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Wh— you little— oh, don’t you hang up now—” 

Weird thing is, he probably wasn’t even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldn’t have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically. 

You’d sworn to put that past you. 

Your immaturity strikes once again. 

“If you have to go now,” your mother says, “You should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].” She doesn’t call you ‘darling’ anymore, doesn’t she? Just your name. 

“Okay. Sorry.” 

You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room. 

“It’s okay,” she assures you, “Goodbye. I love you.” 

“...I love you, too,” you say, but it’ll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and it’ll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room. 

“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, “...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.” 

“Oh, hey; it’s okay!” he goes, although in his voice it seems that there’s been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. “Didn’t know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?” 

“Something like that,” Megumi explains. 

“It’s a long story,” you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, there’s a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. “Anyway, are you okay, Yuuji? How’s your grandfather?” 

He pauses. “Oh, about that… he just passed away.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Yuuji…” you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his hand— it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” he smiles as you pull yourself away, “Grandpa wouldn’t want me to be crying right now anyway. So don’t worry.” 

“Okay, I won’t. But if you’re sad, just know you can always talk to me.” 

He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, “Yeah, I know.” 

Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, “Anyway. Itadori Yuuji—” 

“Just call him Itadori. You don’t have to be so uptight.” 

“Nah, [Name], I’m fine—” 

Megumi sighs. “Anyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.” 

“Oh, yeah, that,” you start, “So, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.” 

“Yeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didn’t have it already, but here’s the box,” he says, tossing it over to Megumi. 

He retrieves the box. It’s ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. You’ve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldn’t be— 

He opens the box. 

Holy shit. 

“Where is it?” 

“It’s empty…” Megumi panics, “Wait— hold on!” 

Things are bad— as in, they couldn’t get any worse— not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomen’s finger itself. 

You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything sooner— if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldn’t even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You should’ve tried harder to sense it, and you should’ve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound. 

It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, you’d still have the most to be blamed for. 

Megumi has a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock. 

“...well, they were saying, ‘let’s open it up to see what’s inside it tonight’,” Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, “Why? Is that bad?” 

Sasaki and Iguchi? 

The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such. 

“It’s way worse than bad,” Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. “Your friends are going to die.” 

“We’ve got to go,” you rush, “Now! Quick!” 

It passes by like a blur, as if you’re in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems it’s being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why you’re running— as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didn’t need your mind for. 

Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. 

You didn’t know them all too well, really— just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasn’t as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldn’t be able to live after that. 

The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to them— one’s a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, you’re sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didn’t think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gates— the ones that you and Yuuji use when you’re running super late— in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chances— it was unlikely that they’d be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen. 

“Is that the building?” Megumi questions, “Where are they?” 

“Fourth floor— guh!” Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil. 

“Yuuji!” 

“I’ll handle this,” Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him. 

“I may not know those two that well, but—” Yuuji starts, “But they’re friends! I have to help!” 

“You’re staying here,” Megumi commands, “[Name], if you could— get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.” 

He climbs over the gate. 

He’s going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. There’s nothing else— nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldn’t be able to help except— what?— tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasn’t possible with how much you’d strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadn’t even started with the basics of that yet, on your father’s obstinate insistence that even if he’d let you play doctor he wouldn’t let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, you’d just die, and there’d be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone. 

You can’t even call your father, either. That would always be your last resort— because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didn’t want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all. 

(You were selfish. You didn’t want to lose your father. You didn’t want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.) 

“Yuuji?” you start, turning to him. “You’re…deathly quiet. Are you okay?” 

His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying? 

“Yuuji, look at me. Are you okay?” you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. “It’s okay. …Megumi’s a good and… capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. He’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay too. Just… just put your trust in him, okay?” 

“I’m sorry, [Name], but I’ve got to go,” he tells you, “You stay here, and call for help or something. I’m sorry, but I’ve just really got to do it!” 

He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish he’d hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longer— it was your last way to be useful now. 

Still, there’s someone you could call, now that you remember him.

The emergency contact. 

You snatch your phone out, resolute. 

“Hello! Gojo Satoru speaking,” the voice on the other line says. 

You’ve heard it plenty before by accident. 

When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuuji’s in the form of a figure slung over Gojo’s shoulders like he’s been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. There’s barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from. 

The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead. 

“Wh— you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? What—” 

“Calm down, kid,” Gojo says, “They’ll be fine. I mean, there’s a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, but…” 

“Executed?” you almost scream, “What the hell happened? You said things would be okay!” 

“Uh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we don’t even know when they’re gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukuna’s finger, by the way.” He holds his arms up in faux surrender. 

“Gojo you ignorant slut! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to ‘calm down!’ He ate Sukuna’s finger? Why weren’t you able to stop anything? What’s going to happen to him now? You know what— give him to me!” 

“You know, it’s not like I’m scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed technique— I mean, I’m leagues stronger than him— but the stuff was too strong. It’s not like you’ll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.” 

“He’s not her boyfriend!” Megumi interjects.

“Thank you, Megumi!” Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind. 

“Oh?” Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Anyway, we’re going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.” 

They’re going to execute him at Jujutsu High after.  

“I’m coming with you.” 

“You sure?” Gojo asks, “Your father isn’t going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.” 

Megumi shifts, a little sombre. “[Name], you don’t have to.” 

“...I’m doing this for Yuuji, not for you.” 

“You okay?” Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchi’s been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. “I’ve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since it’s so late, huh?” 

The whole situation is so incredulous you’re unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone. 

“...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.” 

Everyone is asleep, it seems— all except for you and Gojo. Yuuji’s been knocked out, and Megumi’s stuck in the world of his dreams. 

You can’t sleep. There’s just nothing to put your mind at rest. 

At least if there’s one thing you can do it’s this. 

Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. “Woah— he’s pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.” 

You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyes— Sukuna’s eyelids, you’ve been told. 

You should’ve done more to protect him. 

Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines. 

Nothing happens. You can’t picture his cells being able to grow back. It’s as if there’s been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells don’t budge. 

“Why don’t you help Megumi? I bet he’s got plenty of healable injuries.” 

“…I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. It’s better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.” 

“Pft,” he scoffs, “Shoko? She’s definitely not going to heal all of him. It’ll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And I’ll even tell her that you did it. She’s really fond of you, you know.” 

You give him a shy, modest smile. “Thanks, then.”

It’s time to get to work. 

Megumi’s skin is smooth like a baby’s just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decades’ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work. 

Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. “I can’t really work on the one on his head, since then you’d get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because I’ve already kind of catalysed the start of that area’s healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. I’ll give it, say… two weeks or so for it to get better completely.” 

“Good work!” he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold. 

“By the way, Mr Gojo…” 

“You know, I appreciate the respect you’re giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.” 

“Okay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?” 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure. And I’m going to ask them to suspend his sentence. I’ll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.” 

“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if he even will.” 

Gojo laughs. “Don’t worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! I’m sure they’ll listen to me, anyway.” 

“Thank you,” you sigh. Thank goodness. “If you need any type of payment, um… teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.” 

“Nah, reverse cursed technique’s got me covered.” 

“Oh, wait— I forgot about that— um… I can…”

“Just leave it to me! No payment required,” he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. “And for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.” 

You wouldn’t have imagined that would happen. Megumi— pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually is— no, was— at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone he’d only just met, to be spared. 

“Really?” you ask, “I… wouldn’t have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just… really kind tonight or something…”

“Well, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,” Gojo suspects, “But if there’s one thing for sure it’s that your old friend saved your new one.” 

“...oh.” 

You’ll have to bring it up with him next time— maybe, if he’s still there tomorrow…

“I know you’re mad at him, but a lot has happened,” Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacher’s, “Still, I won’t tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to thank him or anything. I’m sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didn’t deserve to if it were you.” 

You pause. “No, it’s just… I’ll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.” 

18-6-2018 

The aftershocks are still there, although you’ve come out unscathed. 

Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. You’d tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi. 

(You were useless. You couldn’t help anyone. You couldn’t prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldn’t help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldn’t help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soon—) 

Sasaki’s injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally. 

You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your mother’s), your father calling you once the sun had risen. 

“Gojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.” 

“Yeah. I know you’ll scold me, but… not now. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” You hang up. 

For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most useless— you couldn’t help them, you couldn’t help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adult’s help like a little, scared and helpless girl. 

You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years. 

There’s a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. It’s Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not? 

Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a moment’s respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people do— no, you don’t deserve such a break at all, you’re absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, you’ll remind yourself of that again and again and again— the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you don’t like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, she’d disagree— maybe she’d tell you that you should be a mother, maybe she’d ignore that you were also a child at certain times— the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someone’s caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called ‘adult’ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe she’d remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldn’t be like that in any way. 

But you wouldn’t put it past her. 

“Yuuji, are you okay?” There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but you’re just happy he’s alive at this point. 

“Yeah.” His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. “Hi, [Name].” It feels so unignorable, the way it’s filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down. 

“I thought that—” you start, lips trembling, “I thought there was a chance I couldn’t lose you. The only thing I could do was—” you sniffle, “Hope that they could delay it or something.” 

“Yeah. I’ll explain it later,” he says, his voice sincere. 

You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. “Don’t do things like that ever again,” you plead, “Promise me that at least.” 

“I promise.” 

“And keep your promises.”

“I will.” 

“...want to come inside?” 

He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him. 

“Sorry I came so late,” he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. “Hello, Sasaki,” he greets, “Is Iguchi okay?” 

They speak for a while— you don’t feel like it’s much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. They’ve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours. 

When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that she’s going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time. 

You let her, patting her on the back. You’ll call them later— she’d given you her contact— just to check on the two of them. 

“Where’s Megumi?” you ask Yuuji. 

“Oh, Fushiguro? I’m not too sure, but that Gojo guy said he’ll be there soon.” 

“Where, though?”

Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, another reason why I came here was also because… I mean, I know you and him weren’t close, but I’m going to the place where they’ll keep Grandpa’s ashes, and I think… you know, you could come with me. I… I don’t think I’d be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didn’t want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and you’re my friend. So… could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.” 

“...mhm. I’ll always be happy about that,” you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. You’ve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts. 

The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you. 

“Before he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He… kind of cursed me, if I’m being honest,” Yuuji starts. “He said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And I’m going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I… I think I want to help people that way.” 

‘You’ve already helped people enough. You helped me,’ you almost tell him. 

You frown, because that’s the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. “I’m… disappointed, I— I know I should be grateful, grateful that you’re still going to be alive and all, but… you’re still going to be in danger, and you’re still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy you’re going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things don’t go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?” 

You’re selfish like that. In a way, you’re just the way your mother is. You should’ve always known— you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that. 

“Don’t worry,” he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. “I’ll be just fine. I’m a strong kid, after all. And we’ll always be friends!” 

Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice. 

Yuuji can’t stay with you forever. In the same way you can’t remain by your mother and father’s sides for all eternity. 

This won’t be the last time you’re here, you think. For a place of death, it’s quite a bit beautiful how there’s such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it. 

Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him. 

“Megumi.” 

He turns around. 

“I just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically… um… I didn’t expect that you’d still be here. Are your injuries okay?” 

“I’m okay,” he answers you. “And also, I…” he hesitates, the first time he’s talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long time— nearly two years if you’re counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. “I didn’t really do it for you, though. It… it was for Tsumiki.” 

“Oh.”

“Wait! I’m sorry, that didn’t… come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldn’t have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.” 

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. There’s not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought… even if I can’t do as much yet, since I don’t have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if they’re dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um… make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. I’d keep to it anyway, because I’m stubborn, but… yeah. It wasn’t your fault, really.” 

“Okay. That’s good to hear.” 

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.” 

Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward. 

“She is. And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.” 

“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.” 

“You love him a lot,” Megumi says. 

“I do. He’s a really good friend. If there’s something I’ll always know I know that, at least.” 

“I can see that. It doesn’t seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.” 

“...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.” 

“Let’s just… change the subject.” 

“You’re the one who introduced it in the first place.” 

“Okay. How… how are you?” 

“I’m good. Wait, I think you should… go back to them. Maybe they’ll need you there right about now. He’s probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?” 

He pauses. “Yeah. I’m sorry, [Name].” 

“No, no. That’s okay. I expected it. It’s just that I’ll miss him a lot,” you tell him, “He took care of me, kind of. You know I’ve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.” 

Sounds pretty familiar, huh. 

“If you want I can make sure he’s safe for you.” 

“...you should be able to do that regardless of whether it’s my wish for you to do so or not…” you state, “But that would help, I guess. And I’m sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.” 

“...I’m sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,” he says abruptly. ‘By the way’? Classic Megumi… 

“I could tell you were. It’s… it’s okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.” 

All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonment— and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end. 

“I’ll explain it all one day.” 

“You don’t have to if it’s hard.” 

He stays. “No, I will. I promise. And I promise I’ll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just… scared of a few things, maybe.” 

“That’s okay.” 

The two of you aren’t quite friends again yet, but it’ll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesn’t, you’re finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesn’t matter as much anymore. 

“I guess this is goodbye again, then.” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, right— promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,” you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again. 

“Promise.” 

“I’m going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and I’ll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.” 

“I will.” 

“And help me say goodbye to him for me,” you add, “Hope that’s not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. It’s just that I’d actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. That’s the one thing that I wish for the most.” 

“Bye, Megumi.” You turn back in the direction opposite of his. 

“Wait—!” 

His hand is on your wrist. Now you’re in front of him, like yesterday, and he’s holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago. 

His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way that’s a bit abashed. “I’ll miss you, [Name].” 

“It won’t even feel like I’m not there,” you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if he’d let you be free of it if you want him to. 

You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like there’s blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than it’s ever been. 

“Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, [Name]. I’ll… I’ll call.” 

“Thank you.” 

Now you’re the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open. 

2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didn’t feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didn’t feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someone’s beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie. 

You want to cry as you walk back home. 

You’re pretty sure you do. 

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jonathan Ben-Menachem for Zeteo News (04.23.2024):

“Reprehensible and dangerous.” “Terrorist sympathizers.” “It’s not 1938 Berlin. It’s 2024, Columbia University, NYC.” The White House, Congressional Republicans, and cable news talking heads would have you believe that the Columbia University campus has devolved into a hotbed of antisemitic violence – but the reality on the ground is very different. As a Jewish student at Columbia, it depresses me that I have to correct the record and explain what the real risk to our safety looks like. I still can't quite believe how the events on campus over the past few days have been so cynically and hysterically misrepresented by the media and by our elected representatives. 

Last week, the Columbia University Apartheid Divest (CUAD) coalition, representing more than 100 student organizations, including Jewish groups, organized the Gaza Solidarity Encampment, a peaceful campus protest in solidarity with Palestine. CUAD was reactivated after the university suspended Students for Justice in Palestine and Jewish Voice for Peace in the fall. On Wednesday morning, hundreds of students camped out on Columbia’s South Lawn. They vowed to stay put until the university divests from companies that profit from their ties to Israel. Protesters prayed, chanted, ate pizza, and condemned the university’s complicity in Israel’s attacks on Gaza. Though counter-protesters waved Israeli flags near the encampment, the campus remained largely calm from my vantage point.

Columbia responded by imposing a miniature police state. Just over a day after the encampment was formed, university President Minouche Shafik asked and authorized the New York Police Department to clear the lawn and load 108 students – including a number of Jewish students – onto Department of Corrections buses to be held at NYPD headquarters at 1 Police Plaza. One Jewish student told me that she and her fellow protesters were restrained in zip-tie handcuffs for eight hours and held in cells where they shared a toilet without privacy. The NYPD chief of patrol John Chell later told the Columbia Spectator that “the students that were arrested were peaceful, offered no resistance whatsoever, and were saying what they wanted to say in a peaceful manner.”  Since then, dozens of undergraduates have been locked out of their dorms without notice. Barnard College, an affiliate of Columbia, notably gave students just 15 minutes to retrieve their belongings after returning from lockup and finding themselves evicted. Suspended students cannot return to campus and are struggling to access food or medical care. Students who keep Shabbat, and do not use electronics on the Sabbath, were forced to rely on technology in order to secure food and emergency housing. This crackdown was the most violence inflicted on our student body in decades. I implore you, as our Jewish Voice for Peace chapter does, to consider whether arresting Jewish students keeps us and Columbia safe.

Smears from the press and pro-Israel influencers, who have levied charges of antisemitism and violence against Jewish students, are a dangerous distraction from real threats to our safety. I saw politicians compare student organizers to neo-Nazis and call for a National Guard deployment, apparently ignorant of the lives lost at Kent State and in Charlottesville, and with very little pushback from national media. This is a repulsive form of self-aggrandizement that I can only assume is intended to preserve relationships with influential donors. Calls to more heavily police our campus actively endanger Jewish students, and threaten the regular operations of the university far more gravely than peaceful protests.  [...]

On Monday, I joined hundreds of my fellow student workers for a walk-out in solidarity with the encampment; we listened respectfully as a similarly sizable group of Columbia faculty held a rally on the library steps. Frankly, it didn’t feel much different from the environment during my union’s most recent strike on campus – I felt inspired again by my colleagues’ commitment to making Columbia a safer and better place to work and study.  Later that night, a Passover Seder service was held at the encampment. Would an antisemitic student movement welcome Jews in this way? I think not.  [...] Here’s what you’re not being told: The most pressing threats to our safety as Jewish students do not come from tents on campus. Instead, they come from the Columbia administration inviting police onto campus, certain faculty members, and third-party organizations that dox undergraduates. Frankly, I regret the fact that writing to confirm the safety of Jewish Ivy League students feels justified in the first place. I have not seen many pundits hand-wringing over the safety of my Palestinian colleagues mourning the deaths of family members, or the destruction of Gaza’s cherished universities. 

I am wary of a hysterical campus discourse – gleefully amplified by many of the same charlatans who have turned “DEI” into a slur – that draws attention away from the ongoing slaughter in the Gaza Strip and settler violence in the occupied West Bank. We should be focusing on the material reality of war: the munitions our government is sending to Israel, which kill Palestinians by the thousands, and the Americans participating in the violence. Forget the fringe folks and outside agitators: the CUAD organizers behind the campus protests have rightfully insisted on divestment as their most important demand of the Columbia administration, and on sustained attention to the situation in Palestine. And we are not alone. College campuses across the United States have followed Columbia’s lead. 

Jewish Columbia University student Jonathan Ben-Menachem wrote in Zeteo debunking the false "antisemitic" smears used to attack protests against the oppression of Palestinians on campuses.

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.

Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.

Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.

"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"

Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.

"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."

A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.

"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."

Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.

"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."

A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.

His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.

"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"

"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."

His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."

"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."

Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.

Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."

A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.

You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”

Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,

The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.

"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."

His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."

You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.

"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."

As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.

Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."

"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."

Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.

You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.

The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.

Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"

You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."

"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"

"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."

Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."

His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.

"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."

Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."

Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."

You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."

Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.

"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."

When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."

In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."

Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"

"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."

A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."

“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."

Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.

"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."

Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.

"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"

Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.

"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."

He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."

Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.

"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."

His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.

The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.

"Open that filthy mouth."

Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.

"Now swallow it. Show me."

With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.

"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."

He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.

"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"

The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."

His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"

"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.

"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."

The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.

"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."

Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.

"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."

You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"

He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."

Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.

Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.

"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."

"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"

"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."

He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."

"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."

"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."

"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"

Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.

"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."

Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.

You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.

However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.

Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.

As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.

Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"

"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.

After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.

In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.

"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."

Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.

"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."

"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."

Your heart leapt. "How did you-"

"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"

You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."

He hummed. "Tell me."

"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."

His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."

“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)

His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.

All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,

“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”

You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.

“I love you, Mattheo.”

He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”

[planete777]

FREAK・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.

NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.

"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"

lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.

"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."

"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.

"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."

lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.

"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"

the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."

lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.

"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.

he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.

the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.

"lando, hey."

her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.

"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.

"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.

lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."

even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.

it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.

"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."

"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."

"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.

"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."

his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.

"you're gone, aren't you?"

lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.

"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."

"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"

"just this once, i'll give you my bed."

"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.

"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.

"i'm feeling nice today."

he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.

"oh mint, thank you."

receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.

"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."

his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.

he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.

the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.

he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.

he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.

"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.

"what is this, y/n?"

he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"

then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.

"oh fuck."

"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"

y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?

her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"

then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.

she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.

he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.

"you gonna suck me off?"

he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.

"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.

"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.

"you ready?"

all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.

"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.

she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.

his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.

"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.

"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.

y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.

they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.

"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"

it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.

lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."

y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

With Discretion

Here it is! I hope you guys like part 1. Part 2 is in the works. I am planning for this to be a 2 parter, 3 at the most haha we'll see! You can find more of my work here. In the meantime enjoy this one! (Once again, gif credits to @londonharry 🫶🏻)

Warnings: Infidelity (adultery), inappropriate relationship, mentions of drinking/partying, mild dirty talk, slight praise kink, multiple and forced orgasms, dry humping, choking, oral sex (f receiving described, m receiving mentioned), fingering, sex (protected & unprotected)

WC: 12.7K

You had never intended on sleeping with your husband, Caleb’s, boss but you had six months ago and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since. It was overwhelmingly excellent and of course, unforgettable. You didn’t even feel guilty anymore when you fantasized about him when you and Cal would sleep together. The way it developed felt almost like a TV drama scriptwriter had taken over your life and was writing your character into a completely surreal situation. 

You had suspicions that Cal was having an affair. You lived in the suburbs so his commutes to work were nearly an hour there and back, so when he had to work late it made sense to get a hotel and stay the night in the city. But it was hard to miss the fact that over the course of the past year, the odd late night at the office had suddenly become more commonplace.

At first you thought nothing of it, but one day he made the mistake of using your joint account to make a reservation at one of the fancier restaurants in the city. You just so happened to be checking the activity of the account that afternoon because you were expecting a reimbursement from a purchase you had made for a client a few weeks before. A simple call to the restaurant confirmed your suspicions that it was a reservation for two. And not even an hour later, you’d received the usual text he sent when he was “working late”. Maybe it was just for business but to verify, you decided to show up at his office an hour before the reservation. Their building was a skyscraper and housed a couple different offices, but when you made it to the 23rd floor and it was pretty desolate your suspicion started rising. You had only visited his office once when he’d first go hired. He had brought you along on a Sunday to help him set up and decorate without disturbing any of his coworkers. The building had been just as vacant as it was tonight. Regardless, you headed over to his office and saw the blinds and door were closed, so you knocked just in case and after not receiving any response you opened it up and peeked inside to find it empty with no sign of him even coming back and you sighed. 

The feeling of reality just bitch slapping you across the face was strong, but before you could even start to feel any disappointment your entire body froze when a deep voice came from behind you: “Excuse me, can I help you with something?” 

The man before you was striking, it stunned you for a second, suspending time as you looked deep into his furrowed eyebrows. He seemed concerned that a stranger was peeking into the CFO’s office. You were quick to explain that you were Caleb’s wife and were stopping by to see if he wanted a dinner break since he was working late. That’s when he introduced himself as Harry Styles, CEO, and verified that he’d only asked Caleb to stay late twice in the 3 years he’d been working for him. When he saw your face fall he caught on quickly and immediately apologized. You then explained that you had suspicions of Cal’s unfaithfulness for months now and had actually come in to confirm your suspicions. He asked if there was anything he could do to help, but you assured him there was not and went home.

You were devastated initially, but as time went on you were just annoyed that you hadn’t caught on sooner. It seemed so obvious now that you were aware, there was even more damning evidence that you had failed to see before. And well, you were afraid of what this meant for you because Cal was a bit older than you and he had money, and had some personal funds invested in your event planning business. You wanted to fight about it or to get him back, but you had a lot to lose if your marriage ended so you decided to be selfish & just let it be. At least now you knew and you could just start to move on emotionally. 

A few months after that interaction with Mr. Styles, Cal had left for a “business trip” with all of the top executives from the office. So you and your friends took a trip to the city to bar hop a bit and much to your surprise, you saw Mr. Styles leaning against the bar and you made your way over and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around he was surprised to see you of all people.

“Why’s the CEO of the company not in Tokyo for the all executive business trip?” You had asked with a playful grin.

“Because there’s no business trip to Tokyo.”  He responded with a smirk. 

You had expected Cal to lie, but the confirmation of it had once again made you close another emotional tie to your husband. Harry had been so kind and ended up buying drinks for you and your friends for the night and even brought you guys into the VIP area with him and his friends. 

He was fun, sweet, and very attentive. Even a little flirty with you, dare you say, but you chalked it up to the drinks you’d each had.  But as the night progressed your friends and Harry’s friends slowly started disappearing one by one. And nearing 1am it was just you and one of your more drunken friends along with Harry & a couple others from his group. Your friend, Cece, was plastered and you wanted to get her to bed so you thanked Harry for his generosity and let him know that you would be heading out, but he insisted that his car service drop you guys off at your hotel. Your friend ended up passing out in the car and because of this, Harry offered to help you get her up to her room. Once she was safe in her own room for the night Harry walked you up to your room and well, that soon turned into a lot more than you had expected…

… SIX MONTHS EARLIER …

“Thank you so much for helping me get her up here.” You smiled as you held your friend Cecilia’s door open as Harry hurried by, carrying her bridal style to her bed.

“Not a problem.” He assured as he gently set her down. She groaned and stirred a bit, “We should probably leave a bin within reach.” He glanced back to you as the heavy door closed with a loud thud.

“Good thinking.” You smiled as you hurried over to the other end of the room where a trashcan was nestled beneath the desk. You sighed when you saw that the liner had not been put in and was just sitting neatly at the bottom so you bent down to do just that. 

Harry didn’t mean to ogle you the way he had been all night, but he couldn’t help himself. You looked absolutely breathtaking and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand how Caleb could just screw you over the way he was. Harry didn’t even know he was married until you had shown up at the building a few months back looking for him. In his eyes Caleb was immature and a complete fool, even if he was 15 years his senior. Because if he had someone like you at his side he would never dream of doing anything to jeopardize that.

“Alright, that’s all set.” You said as you put the garbage can by Cecilia’s bedside, flicked on the bedside lamp, and then turned around to smile at him.

“Well at least she had a lot of fun.” He said as you started making your way out of the room.

“Exactly.” You giggled as you shut off the big lights and opened up the door and you both made it back into the hall. You walked to the elevator in a comfortable silence and then stopped before it, you turned to him to say goodnight.

“Are you up or down?” He asked you as he walked up to the buttons on the wall.

“Up. Much to my displeasure.” You mumbled and he smiled.

“Scared of heights?” He asked and you nodded in confirmation, “Me too. I hate that my office is all windows.” He said with a chuckle, “First time I got in there I decided to look out of it and I got a spell of vertigo for a few hours.” He admitted and you frowned a bit.

“Oh wow, so it’s bad.”

“Yeah, awful.” He confirmed just as the elevator chimed to indicate it’s arrival.

“You don’t have to take me up, I know it’s late and-”

“No, it’s alright. Just want to make sure you get in safe.” He assured as you both stepped inside.

“Thanks, that’s sweet of you.” You smiled as you pressed the button to the 15th floor.

“It’s nothing.” He assured you with a smile, “Ummm…you can tell me to fuck off if I’m prying, but I guess I’ve just noticed that you don’t seem all that upset about Caleb cheating and lying to you about his whereabouts.” He said and you sighed.

“I was at first, after I went to the office?” You reminded and he nodded, “But I then decided that it was out of my hands and like…I don’t know, it’s not that I don’t love him enough, but I just…don’t want to fight and if all this is is like a fling or midlife crisis,” you giggled, “It’ll sort itself out.” You explained and he hummed. “It might also have a lot to do with everyone telling me that marrying and older man was a bad idea.” You admitted with a slight smile and he did as well.

“So no one was supportive?”

“Not really.” You confessed.

“How old are you now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“30, turning 31 soon.” You said.

“Oh, I just turned 31! It’s just as annoying.” He assured and you giggled.

“Good. People’ve been a lot more invested in my personal life since I turned 30.”

“Oh yeah…"when are you getting married?", "Are you going to have children?", "When are you going to start acting your age?"…” he recited all of the same questions people seemed to concerned to know the answers to and you chuckled.

“Exactly.” You hummed, “I mean, I was 24 when we got married. Literally fresh out of grad school. That same summer.” You said and he hummed in understanding.

“Did you date long?”

“A year and a half or so? We met at an entrepreneurial convention and I was manning a booth for the place I was working at, at the time and we just got to talking. You know how he can just get along with anyone…” you explained and he nodded. “I did fall hard and fast…but I mean, I think he just wanted to snatch me up before I lost interest or something because I wasn’t in a rush to be married. But he seemed to be and well, I agreed because I did love him-er I do, sorry! I do love him.” You corrected yourself, feeling a bit shocked by your fumble.

“I mean, feelings can change.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah…I mean, clearly his have.” You said as the doors opened up on your floor.

“I mean, sounds like yours have too a bit.” He said as you started guiding him down the hall.

“I think you made a mistake in walking me to my room. I’m pretty deep in.” You explained, changing the subject and he smiled at you.

“It’s no bother. I quite like talking to you.” He said and you smiled up at him.

“I ummm…like talking to you too, Harry.” You assured him. “So what about you? Any lucky lads or ladies?” You asked him and he chuckled.

“Hmmm, sometimes, but not to any serious capacity. I’m always so busy with the firm.” He explained, “It’s not like I don’t want that though…I just want to make sure that when I do have that it’s…as right for me as possible. I don’t know, not so big on wasting people’s time, you know? Like if I were in your shoes I would make a fuss and try to get even in someway…” he said and you chuckled.

“So vengeful!” You teased.

“Well you’re married to the guy! You made a commitment to each other, you know? It’s just disrespectful in my opinion. If something changed for him then he should say that instead of sneaking off with someone else, you know?”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” You concurred as you made another turn, “But if I were to “get him back” or give him a taste of his own medicine I’m just not sure that it would make anything better for me at least.” You explained as you slowed down as you reached your door, “Like, do I think bout it sometimes, yeah! Of course I do.” You chuckled, “But I don’t think it would impact him in any way. I wouldn’t advertise it to him either, you know?” You explained as you glanced down and opened up your bag to search for your key. 

“Well if not to get back at him then just for yourself. I mean, if he’s out there getting his ego boosted by who knows who, why wouldn’t you?” Harry asked and you smiled as your eyes flickered up to his.

“I mean…thankfully, I don’t think I need that validation from anyone else.” You explained and he smiled a bit, “I know who I am and I am happy with who I am, in every way. And, not to sound arrogant, but I know what I bring to the table as a partner and if that’s not enough for someone then… their loss.” You concluded with a simple shrug.

“You’re absolutely extraordinary.” He said softly, as if he were in awe of you. You felt your cheeks warming as all of the blood rushed to your face at his compliment and you looked away. Bashfully shaking your head as if that would help ward off the feeling his compliment elicited from you. 

“Hardly.” You said lowly and suddenly his hands were on your face and he was tilting you up to look up at him. His touch was gentle as his eyes flickered back and forth over your own.

“You are, Y/N.” He assured you softly and you felt like your were on cloud 9, your hands grabbed around his wrists firmly, “If I had you, I would never be so careless with you.” He said with so much conviction. 

His words made your heart beat wildly and your insides melt. You were so affected by him, it was getting hard to keep yourself together in his presence. He was overwhelming in the best way and you wanted to feel completely immersed in the energy that he exuded. The attraction that was brewing between the two of you was reaching its boiling point. It was getting hard to ignore the signals of desire that your body had been giving off since you started hanging out earlier. But now, the subtlety was gone…your pupils were blown wide, his were as well. You were running hot all over, but particularly between your legs, you were so wet for Harry, you were certain that your panties were an absolutely sticky mess at the crotch.

“I think I-uh…sh-should ummm…get inside.” You stumbled on such simple words because you were trying so hard to just behave for another few seconds.

“Yeah.” He agreed, but neither of your were letting each other go. “Did you find your room key?” He asked and you nodded.

“S’in my purse.” You assured and he nodded and reluctantly let you go.

“Good.” He smiled as you dug back into your little bag and retrieved it to show him, “Alright, in you go.” He said softly and you turned around and slid the key into the slot, waiting for it to turn green so that you could turn the handle. He was quick to step forward and help you push the heavy door open.

“Thank you.” You hummed as you stepped past the threshold and turned to face him again, “Thank you for literally everything. The drinks, the laughs, the ride, the chat…” you smiled at him and he returned the friendly gesture.

“It was my pleasure.” He assured you.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You smiled.

“Me too.” He confirmed, still standing at the door. Neither of you made a move to retreat.

“Ummm, can I…hug you?” You asked through a timid giggle and his dimples carved deep into his cheeks.

“Of course you can.” He said and you were quick to pull the latching lock out so that the door wouldn’t shut on you when he let it go. 

You were going to hug around his body, but he hunched down at bit so you could reach him better, which resulted in your arms draping over his shoulders. Harry’s arms then naturally wrapped around your waist and as you closed the gap between your bodies you relaxed into his hold for a few seconds, leaning your head against his. He smelled divine, you were tempted to take a big inhale of him but decided against it almost instantly. 

You initiated the pull back and your hands rested on his shoulders, your noses nearly brushing from how close you were. You started to close the gap as your eyes fluttered down to his lips and he nudged your face to the side a bit, allowing him to fit his face better against yours. "What am I doing?" Was the last thought you had before your eyes fluttered closed and your lips met his in a sensual kiss. You two pulled back almost instantly, lust and longing clouding your minds to a dangerous degree. But before you could decide against it, you tugged at the collar of his shirt as your lips smeared together urgently once again. One of his arms remained around your body as the other pushed the room door open until you were both shrouded in darkness. He blindly flipped back the latch and as soon as the heavy door closed your body was up against it as his hands found your face and held you in place as your kiss started to deepen.

You hadn’t been fucked in at least four months by that point and with the attraction that you felt towards Harry, you didn’t care that you were married. After all, Cal had already tainted the marriage with his own affair… with this in mind you just gave in. You licked into his mouth and he ended up moaning before he shoved his tongue past your lips. You guided his hands to the parts of your body that craved that long missed masculine touch. His hands felt bigger than Caleb’s and he was groping at your bottom the second you guided his hands there. He stayed there for a few minutes as you kissed heatedly, but soon he started to slide his hands up your body. He was intentional as he felt and familiarized himself with the curves and dips of your body. Your skin was tingling from his attention and buzzing in anticipation of where his curious hands would travel to next. You immediately got dizzy when his right hand landed over your neck and started to tighten a bit around your throat. 

“Harder.” You begged breathily and he sighed in relief before squeezing harder against the sides as you kissed sloppily.

You felt him trying to nudge your legs apart with his knee so you parted them and as he pressed closer you whined when you felt his thigh nudged against your center just a bit. You needed more though, you were greedy for it and ground down against him and he flexed his quad, the bulge of his muscle created a surface of better friction for you and you moaned as you started to go faster. You immediately felt the turning up of his lips as he smirked, more than glad that you were so eager for it. 

“Better?” He asked and you nodded, “Good. Get what you need, Y/N.” He hummed before he pressed his forehead to yours. Your pants and soft moans were heating up the minimal space between your faces but he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. You were clinging to his shoulders for dear life as you humped at his thigh to your heart’s content and Harry would have it no other way. 

Harry only wanted one thing and that was to get you off as many times as were physically possible. You deserved the world on a silver platter and he was determined to give you whatever you would let him tonight. How could anyone in their right mind neglect someone as gorgeous, smart, and extraordinary as you? He didn’t get it…how anyone could neglect your body or choose another’s…that’s why any guilt he felt about this immediately evaporated. His other hand was securely latched at your waist, keeping you steady as you used him to get off. He wanted you to do whatever you wanted, whatever you needed to feel good.

You were so determined! You wanted to come so badly and were doing everything in your power to cling to that little spark of pleasure that would shoot down your legs and make you shudder each time your clit rubbed against his thigh. The slick mess in your panties caused the glide to be smoother and so you started grinding with more intention until your jaw was dropping open as you moaned in celebration of your impending orgasm.

“I’m- oh, I’m coming!” You got out as you lost your rhythm and fell forward into his chest and Harry’s hands went to your hips. You continued grinding wildly to draw out the pleasure of your orgasm as much as possible. Harry was encouraging you with his words while his strong body kept you steady as your legs grew weary from the orgasm that had just taken you out. Your ragged breathing and the pulsing of your pussy were synced with the beating of your heart, you swore he could hear it as well and you tried to straighten up.

“S’alright, I’ve got you. Holding you nice and tight, just take some deep breaths, baby.” He said cooly as you tried to recover.

As the seconds passed your inhales finally became deeper and you were able to relax into Harry’s hold. He was patient, waiting for you to make a move to regain your strength.

“Jeez, I haven’t come like that since I was a teenager.” You confessed through a giggle and he chuckled.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” He asked and you glanced up at him.

“I’m not sure…I just hadn’t been so turned on that I was able to.” You said and he grinned.

“Are you saying I turn you on more than your husband?” He asked haughtily, a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“No, no, no…Don’t do that to me.” You responded through a nervous laugh and he chuckled.

“You’re right, that was low. Sorry.” He apologized and you smiled.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, he could still see the lust glazing over your gaze. “Can I return the favor though?” You asked him, more than ready to do your best for him.

“Can I make you come again first?” He asked and your eyes widened a bit.

“Again?” you questioned him and he nodded.

“Yes, again.” He said as he started walking you back deeper into the room, “And again, and again, and again until your poor, little pussy can’t take anymore.” He said before kissing you deeply. You moaned at his dirty words and gasped when the backs of your legs were met with the edge of bed. You fell back and he climbed over you, still kissing you fervently.

His big hands slid up your thighs, helping you part them around his body so that he could get even closer still and the moment you felt the seizable bulge in his pants pressing near your center you felt an impatience to feel and see what he had to offer you. Of course, his company was lovely, but you were absolutely touch starved and in dire need of a good fucking. Your hands slid back to his firm bottom and you pressed him deeper against you still. His grin broke the kiss and you opened your eyes to meet his playful gaze.

“Cheeky little thing.” He smiled and you only offered a shrug to excuse your handsiness. "Are you still okay with this?” He asked you and you bit your lip to suppress the grin that was threatening to take over your face.

“I don’t know but I want it. Need it.” You said and his gaze softened a bit.

“How long’s it been?” He asked you and you sighed.

“Since I’ve been fucked? Four months.” You said and he looked displeased.

“I mean since you’ve come.”

“Since I’ve come? Not by my own devices…?” you said and he chuckled, “I honestly don’t remember.” You confessed and now he just looked flat out offended at this.

“You’re lying…”

“Why would I lie about that?” You giggled.

“And even after that you haven’t cheated?” He asked with a chuckle and you shrugged.

“Well, I am now.” You said and he smiled.

“Well I’m definitely following through on what I said before. Gotta help you make up for lost time.” He smiled and you playful rolled your eyes at him. “Nuh-uh, none of that bratty stuff.” He said to you and you grinned.

“After everything I’ve been through?” You asked and he grinned.

“Pulling that card are you?”

“Of course.” You smiled and he bit down on his lip, “What?” You asked him.

“You’re just so fucking pretty.” He said, voice soft and sweet.

“Ummm, thanks.” You responded softly. You suddenly felt so small beneath him.

“Yeah, of course.” His smirk was giving you butterflies. His hand started trailing up your thigh, making its way to your center. When he finally reached your panties he did his best to contain his amusement at just how wet you were for him. “Shit.” He whispered lowly as his eyes met yours.

“I know…” you giggled, “M’so wet for you.” You whispered back and immediately wriggled a bit when you felt him slide the material to the side and soon the warmth of his fingers were making direct contact with your slit. 

“Say it again.” Harry asked, his lips tickling against yours as he made his request.

“I’m so wet for you, Harry.” You said again, practically tingling in anticipation. He could feel your arousal seeping through as he ran his fingers down to where your entrance was. Harry almost moaned at how sopping wet you were, you’d made a proper mess for him and he didn’t even ask before kissing you hard and then sliding down to the ground.

“Harry, what’re you- Oh my god…” You gasped breathily when his thick tongue pushed into your entrance. Your eyes fluttered closed and your fingers buried into his hair as he started to bury his face against you even more, he was nuzzling against you, his nose bumping against your clit a few times before he licked up the entirety of your pussy and then dexterously used it to flick at your clit until your body started to turn to mush, “Oh fuck...that’s so fucking good…” you praised him and when he started to gently suck at you, your vision started to blur and your abs to tense. You would be mortified by how quickly you were building up to an orgasm if everything that he was doing wasn’t distracting you from having a singular thought apart from “Keep sucking”.

He moaned against you as your orgasm starting to take over you. It made you come harder to know that he was enjoying it as much as you were because even as you were withering, he never stopped. He did slow down enough to let you come down from it all but when he’d realized that you’d caught your breath you felt his fingers teasing at your entrance. You parted your legs further, non-verbally communicating to him that you wanted him to finger you. He kissed at your inner thigh and you smiled as you felt him sucking at you.

“Are you-”

“Yeah. S’just for you, for the memories.” He hummed before he sucked a bit more, ensuring that he left a dark hickey and you giggled, but soon your breath was hitching as he laved at your clit as he introduced his index finger first, feeling it out to see what you were able to handle. 

It did feel nice, but you needed more. He wasn’t stingy when you asked for it, instead he rewarded you with his middle finger as well. His hands were so big, so this did make a difference. He was feeling around with his fingers, searching for your spot.

“Just a little bit deeper.” You said as you propped yourself up on your elbows to be able to see him.

“I’m not hurting you?” He asked. His tenderness was making your heart flutter.

“No, I’m alright. Now just curl your fingers into- Oh fuck… r-right there!” You encouraged through a bright smile and he grinned as he watched your head fall back onto the bed. He started to go a bit harder until your legs started to tense up, soon enough they were trembling as your toes curled and you started to come once again. You couldn’t believe how good you felt. Beautiful colors were bursting behind your closed eyelids as you rode the wave of pleasure you had been so fortunate to catch. You could practically hear the blood roaring in between your ears at how hard your heart was beating. And the longer he kept his fingers pumping inside of you the longer your orgasm lasted. You whimpered as your legs shook from yet another orgasm as he expertly prodded his fingers into your g-spot.

“Good girl…come for me.” Harry spurred you on. 

You genuinely felt like you were going to explode because he had found the perfect pleasure point and it’s like you couldn’t be turned off. You felt so much pressure building inside of you, it was making your back arch and your legs shake and your moans to pour incessantly from your mouth, but you couldn’t ask him to stop. It felt too good to put an end to it yet. Fingering had always done wonders for you, but add to that a partner who’s intentional about it, and well your body will do things you never thought it capable of. Again, he’d give you small breaks to help you catch your breath and start up again. Your entire body felt like it was vibrating as he built you up again. Your hips thrusting to try meet his fingers, hoping to feel him deeper as he fucked you with them and used his mouth to lick and slurp at your clit until your body was going limp once again as you came. This time there were no colors, just white as your ears rang.

But then you gasped as he pushed himself to stand, his body loomed over yours and a he gave you mischievous grin before he started pounding his long, thick fingers inside harder and faster than before, never failing to miss the spot you showed him. And as his dark eyes met yours with a hungry gaze you felt completely lost. You could feel your poor little pussy throbbing as he started to work you up to the summit of pleasure again, but this time it felt even bigger than before. You had that pins and needles feeling tickling up your legs and to your core, but it felt like it was coming from the inside. Fighting to get out. 

“Gonna come again. I can feel it.” He said lowly. The deep tones of his voice settled over you like the warmest hints of sunlight, making you feel toasty from the inside out. 

“It feels…fuck, it feels like so much.” You whimpered.

“I know, baby. You’re gonna squirt for me, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded furiously at the insane pressure threatening to just explode, “Come on then, give it to me. Show me how good it feels, Y/N.” He hummed with a subtle arrogance that you swore was the thing that did you in or maybe it was that he suddenly started to rub your clit with his thumb. Your head fell back into the mattress and your back arched for a few seconds before the fireworks took over. You couldn’t contain your moans and cries as you felt yourself quite literally exploding with your orgasm. He held one of your legs open with his free hand, taking in as your writhed in pleasure, gushing cum for him. He started to slow down, but you had so much more. It’s like a part of you that had been repressed was finally free.

“D-don’t stop! Not yet! I-I need more!” You begged breathily.

“How about I fuck the rest out of you?” He asked instead as his fingers slowed down and rubbed into that spot. You immediately nodded and he was quick to lean over you and attach your lips together. 

You helped each other get undressed and then he fetched a condom from his wallet before texting his driver to dismiss him for the night. In the meantime you made yourself useful and grabbed two towels from the bathroom to put under you. Already you felt wobbly on your legs and Harry was more than pleased. You watched with a salivating mouth as he rolled the condom down his long and deliciously thick shaft. He stroked himself a few times and it made your walls flutter in excitement. 

“Grab a pillow for me, please?” He asked you nodded and reached back, blindly feeling around until your fingers grazed the corner of one and pulled it down, “Thank you. Hips up for me.” He said softly and you did as he directed. You’d heard of this before, never really certain of whether this worked or not, but you guessed you were about to find out. He tucked it beneath you, asking a few times if it was comfortable for you until it was positioned just right.

And from one moment to the next the reality of this situation dawned on you and your excitement turned into hesitation. You were suddenly anxious about this…were you really about to cheat on Caleb? Your husband. With his boss? It just felt like the most surreal situation and when you finally got out of your head Harry was looking at you with a tenderness in his eyes.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He said and you swallowed thickly,  “I’m sorry if I…caused a lapse in judgement or-” he was cut off as you tugged him down by the neck and kissed his lips with so much need. You didn’t want him to feel bad for this. This total stranger, basically, had shown you more attention and kindness than your own husband had in ages. And you talked yourself out of believing that this was for revenge on Cal. No, this was for you. You wanted it, you needed it desperately. Even more so as you felt the tip of his cock tickling at your labia as he hovered over your body. His hands were securely on your hips. But you parted your legs further, to let him rest against your entrance.

“You sure?” His question was mumbled against your mouth and you nodded.

“Yes. I’m sure.” You reassured him of your decision. “I’m just…nervous.” You confessed. “Like…I never thought I would be in this situation.” you said through a breathy giggle.

“Yeah, this is definitely a unique situation.” He agreed with a smile on his lips.

“I guess I just need you to know that…like I’m not a bad person.” She said and he shook his head.

“I don’t think that you are, Y/N.” He assured, “I think that you’re fun, smart, sweet, strong, and beautiful…or at least from what I’ve seen.” He said softly, “If anything I’m the bad person for…not giving a fuck that you’re married.” He chuckled and you did as well.

“If it helps I don’t think you’re a bad person either.” You assured him and he smiled before he kissed you again.

“Mmm…you might after I’m done with you. Gonna ruin you for my cock.” He smirked as he started to push inside. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as he started to stretch out your entrance with the thick head. “Fuck you’re tight.” He hummed in delight as he added more pressure with his hips. He was just starting to wonder when the tight ring of muscles would give when they did, and the leaking and sensitive head of his cock was sucked into your delicious little pussy. You moaned together in relief as he surged forward, not able to wait for your to accommodate to his intrusion. He just needed to get in you, it was like he had lost all self-control; forcefully spreading your walls apart with his girth and then finally settling inside of you fully. You whimpered at how deep he was and he shifted his hips a bit, doing his best to find the spot that had you in puddles for him. 

“Oh god…” you sighed in relief when his cock finally found your spot. Your thighs squeezed around his hips to push him in as deep as possible. You swore he was in your stomach and it hurt so good. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, Harry.” You implored and he wasted no time in giving in to your request. 

His thrusts were hard and merciless. It almost felt like with each deep thrust he was knocking the air from your body. You felt drunk and dizzy on his cock as he pounded into your spot so hard that your vision started to blur. Before you even realized it your walls were spasming around his erection and your were writhing around with an unexpected orgasm.

When Harry felt you tighten up he grinned and moaned at the feeling of you coming around him so suddenly. He was mesmerized by the way your tits bounced with each powerful thrust. He was melting for your pretty and whiny sounds of approval and of the sound of his name being uttered and moaned from your lips with so much gratitude. 

“Shit…” he swallowed thickly as his cock slipped out from how wet you were now. He quickly guided himself back inside of you, thrusting in the way you had liked and then started rubbing your clit as well. He chuckled as he felt your legs trembling around his hips as you came yet again. His own legs felt like they were about to give, so he slowed down and wrapped his arms around you before carrying you higher up the bed so that he could kneel on the mattress. “Get on your tummy for me.” He said and you did as you were asked, “Let’s get this under you…there you go.” He said as he placed the pillow back under you and you got the chills when you felt his fingers rubbing against your entrance the up to your bum, rubbing against your much tighter hole. Then you felt the weight of his cock back at your entrance and he slowly pushed inside. You squeezed the comforter in your fists as his cock somehow felt even bigger than it had before. You literally gasped and he moaned as he gave a few testing thrusts before some part of you just opened up and let him bottom out, that one did make you yelp. “Alright?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s just so fucking big.” You mumbled into the bedding and he grinned.

“Yeah it is, but you’re taking it all so well.” He assured you as he started to grind into you and your were paralyzed. "Fuck baby, take all of me." he grunted in time with his thrusts. He was right up against your favorite spot this way and it was making you feel loopy as it was stimulated over and over and over again. He wasn’t even going hard, he was just focusing all of his efforts into getting that spot and well, he seemed to be enjoying it too as he moaned and groaned above you. “Fuck you feel so good…you’re so fucking good.” He moaned with a satisfied smile.

You had never come vaginally as much as you had tonight and these orgasms were different than the clitoral ones you typically had. These orgasms felt bigger and like it was taking your whole body to achieve them. Your mind was blanking every single time…and this one was going to be the end of you, you were sure. You could feel yourself throbbing around his cock hard. He started to gyrate his hips and you literally gasped.

“There? Is that it?” He asked with a smirk you couldn’t see, but it was evident from his tone.

“Yes, right there! You’re going to make me come!” You warned and he hummed and put more of his weight over you. You welcomed it and your heart nearly beat out of your chest as one of his hands slid up your arms and to your hand. You let his fingers interlace with yours and squeezed as you got closer and closer to your orgasm. It was absolutely overwhelming as you cried out in ecstasy as your orgasm literally crawled up from your toes to the top of your head. Every part of you was hyperaware and feeling tingly as your mind floated freely in gratification. You were covered in goosebumps and your limbs felt like jell-o as he fucked you through it. You were reeling, completely pliant in his arms and as soon as you started to come down from that incredible orgasm he started to thrust into you nice and deep not letting your orgasm end. His thrusts were timed so perfectly, you were trembling and begging him for more, so he gave you more. He went harder and deeper as he shifted to straddle you and fuck you like that. You were basically weeping as he fucked two more orgasms out of you like this, it just felt so good you couldn’t even stop it. Your body was just responding to it and you were so out of sorts.

“One more like this and I’ll give you a break, baby. Just one more, can feel your little pussy squeezing me, throbbing around my big cock.” He said and you moaned, practically drooling on yourself and the bed by now. 

It’s like you had no say over it, you just surrendered to the feelings and let yourself drown in them with no shame or remorse. That last orgasm was earth-shattering. You were vibrating uncontrollably as your ears rang and the tears slipped from your eyes even though they were screwed shut. You were just grunting in time with each hard thrust he delivered into you until your come was gushing and spurting out of you. You were gasping because the intensity of it all made you feel like your were free falling. It was soaking his cock as he moaned and then pressed inside as deep as he could before he came undone, filling the condom with his come but wishing he could’ve just unloaded in that tight, sweet pussy of yours. His hands pushed you deeper into the mattress, making it just a little bit harder to breathe and that somehow made it all the better. When he finished, he relaxed his body he just fell over you, covering you in his warmth. Time felt suspended as you both caught your breaths. You swore that mentally you weren’t all there now and wouldn’t be for a bit. 

“Am I crushing you?” He whispered, this words tickling the shell of your ear and you smiled, eyes still closed because to you, it felt like the room was spinning.

“Yes, but in a good way.” You hummed bad tiredly.

“In a good way…” he repeated lazily through a playful smile.

“Mhmm.” you said and then your smile widened as his fingers found yours and interlaced with yours again. He shifted a bit and you rolled along with him so that you were on your sides now. His cock was still softening up and you were grateful that he wasn’t quick to just pull out and go. As much as you needed a fuck, you also needed the tenderness and affection of another person and he seemed to understand that. You tangled your legs with his and he squeezed your fingers before pulling your closer into his body.

“Was that alright?” He asked softly and you laughed a bit.

“I’m like…mentally on another planet…I feel like I’m floating… so yeah, I’d say that was alright.” You whispered and he laughed a bit.

“Good.” Is all he said. 

When you had come down enough he proceeded to get back between your legs. His tongue and mouth were a lot more gentle this time around and again, he made you come several more times until your body was so sore that you just couldn’t give any more. You sucked him off eagerly and made him come once more before you both passed out. You woke up around 7am when his alarm went off, but instead of seizing the day he fucked you once more, bare, and it was your turn to mark him up. You were so exhausted that you flaked out on breakfast with your friends and didn’t wake up again until just shy of midday.

“Feel free to shower if you need to.”

“Yeah, I think I will.” Harry said lazily as he checked his phone.

“Mmmkay. I’m gonna order something in, do you want anything?” You asked him through a yawn.

“Will we have time?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a late check out.” You assured.

“Oh alright.” He smiled, “What’re you having?”

“Probably some eggs and pancakes and well coffee. I’m quite drained.” You said with a smile.

“I’ll have the same. Eggs over easy though.” He said as he stretched.

“Oh, same!” You smiled as you rolled over to reach the telephone and he hopped in the shower while you place the call.

Thankfully nothing was tense or awkward which you appreciated. Harry didn’t take long, so you were able to get showered as well and had literally just stepped out in your robe when Harry was placing the tray down on the little table in your room. You guys made conversation, he asked about your business and what kinds of events you liked to do, if you were interested in any other ventures. It was very, very normal. You were just waiting for the bubble to be burst by the metaphorical needle that was your reality…that being that you were a married woman who had just cheated on her husband, but it hadn’t come… and whether it did or not, this couldn’t happen again. Maybe when you were out of his presence and left alone with your thoughts, because you liked him way too much to feel anything bad at the moment. You thought it would happen when it came time for him to go, but that wasn’t how your goodbye went at all.

“Umm…before I go I just think we need to…debrief a bit.” He said and you smiled at him.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed easily.

“I mean…I like you, I think we’re very compatible and like…we just have a connection I think.” He said and you nodded, “And I mean…I can’t say I respect Caleb as a husband and a man after…hearing what he’s put you through, but I still respect him as my employee and obviously what he does outside of work isn’t really my business.” Harry spoke clearly and concisely, but he was looking for any signs of distress from you at this but you were just nodding.

“Yeah, I agree 100%. Like, thank you…for hearing me out and…helping me out, but obviously this is not something that can happen again. And well, I like you too, a lot.” You said and he smiled a bit, “I just don’t want you to walk away thinking that I just used you to get back at him, you know? And I mean…I don’t think us running into each other often will even be an issue. He doesn’t ever want me involved in any of his work stuff.” You said simply and he nodded.

“Right. Well, I did have a great time with you and ummm…I don’t regret it. I hope you don’t either.” He said more meekly and you shook your head.

“Nope, no regrets.” You assured him with a smile, “Thank you though, again for everything. You’re a really wonderful person, Harry.” You said and he smiled bashfully at your compliment. Moments later you were ensuring he had all of his things as you walked him to the door and you guys hugged briefly before he made his way out into the hallway and gave you one final wave before he was gone and disappearing amongst all of the strangers in New York City.

… PRESENT DAY …

As was expected, you hadn’t seen or even heard anything about Harry since then, just like before. But one thing you couldn’t help but notice was that now Caleb was around a lot more. Well, it took a few months after the whole thing with Harry, but it felt like things were going back to how they had been before. You had no idea what had happened between him and his mistress, but it couldn’t have been good because he was suddenly so present and even doting on you like when he was first trying to convince you to go out with him. And on this particular night you were in the middle of doing your skincare routine before bed when Cal came into the en-suite, just in from the office.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He hummed and kissed your cheek in passing.

“Hi, how was your day?” You asked as he undid his tie.

“Really fucking good.” He grinned, “So on Saturday we’re gonna have a celebratory dinner for a deal that we closed. It’s not everyone from work, but a few of the guys. S’nothing official, just those of us who did the grunt work to get this client. Do you have plans?” He asked as he moved on to his shirt now.

“Nope, no plans. Why?” You asked in confusion, as your eyes met through the mirror.

“Obviously I want you to join, sweetheart. If you want to.” He smiled in confirmation.

“Oh, sure!” You said quickly, “I’d love to.” You happily accepted his invitation. 

“Excellent! It’s formal wear, we’re doing a fancy dinner.” He grinned, “So get yourself something nice in the next few days yeah?” He said.

“Oh, ok. Is there like a specific vibe I should go for?” You asked as you turned to him and he came over to you and grabbed your face gently.

“Hmm…” he hummed pensively, “I’d say something sexy, but really classy. S’gonna be the first time you meet my work friends. Wanna show you off, gloat a bit.” He said to you, voice low and sultry.

“Okay…do I have to wear a bra with it?” You asked and he chuckled before kissing your lips deeply. After a few moments he pulled back with a smirk as his thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks lovingly. 

“Mmmm, I’d prefer you ditch it for the night…but that’s just my opinion.” He grinned and you chuckled, “Probably pack a bag for overnight in case we get a little too wasted, yeah?” He asked and you nodded in confirmation, “Alright sweets, m’gonna hop in the shower.” He said before letting you go.

Needless to say, you were shocked. Hell must’ve been frozen over because Cal never even took you to the office holiday parties! So of course you accepted his invitation before he could take it back. Seeing Harry at this dinner had definitely crossed your mind almost instantly, but from what you knew, he didn’t really socialize with his colleagues outside of work so you got the possibility of seeing him again out of your head. Specially now that it seemed like Cal had made it past whatever midlife crisis he had been suffering. Maybe it was about time that you put the fantasies on the back burner and focused back on your husband. After all it seemed that he was extending an olive branch with this invitation. Making up for lost time and for his distancing from you. And well, in the interest of perhaps seeing Harry again in the future, you wanted to really wow his coworkers and make sure that you scored more invitations to work things.

*********

You had spent your lunch hours for the next few days scouring all the boutiques in your suburb for a dress that made you feel sexy but that wasn’t too slutty or suggestive. Always in the back of your mind asking yourself if Harry would like it, but then bringing yourself down from that hopeful cloud. You had found a dress that you loved and bought it, but despite that, you had walked into one more shop before heading back to your house.

You were looking through the racks when a beautiful magenta fabric caught your eyes and when you pulled it out of the bunch you immediately smiled at the dress it belonged to. It was a halter neck, which you would never typically go for, but you could already envision it on your body. There was a slit and the back had a little cutout that you imagined would serve to draw the gaze to the curve of your lower back and ultimately your bottom. The dress you had just purchased was a lot more understated, it flattered your shape and was definitely a less showy color, but you were practically drooling over this dress. It was gorgeous.

“It’s stunning isn’t it?” The clerk suddenly appeared beside you with a smile.

“Yeah…” you smiled at her.

“Want to try it on?” She asked with an enticing arch in her eyebrow.

“Absolutely.” You responded almost too quickly and she smiled and grabbed it for you and guided you over to the changing room. "Oh my god..." you sighed dreamily.

You were a vision in it. The color just livened you up and made you feel electric, powerful, and sensational. Your previous dress did make you look elegant and beautiful, but gave more of a demure and understated beauty vibe; it was the kind of dress you’d be expected to go for and typically did. But this other dress, it brought out an air of confidence in you, you could see the difference even in how you posed in it. Caleb did say he wanted to show you off…And well, even if you upstaged the evening, your husband had been having an affair for a year and while he seemed to be coming back to you, it couldn’t hurt to remind him of what he had and perhaps it would help to keep repairing the invisible, but tangible, distance that still existed between the two of you.

“I’ll definitely take it.” You said to the clerk with a smile.

After rushing a few streets down, you returned the other dress and then hurried home to your meeting. You’d keep the dress hidden in your closet until Saturday and surprise Cal with it as well.

**********

Cal had been quick to get ready, he didn’t stray too far from his day to day look, he just ditched his tie. You were working on your makeup when he told you that he’d be down in his office when you were ready to go. The dinner was at 7pm and you did have quite a drive according to Caleb, so you hurried to get your look together so that you could get on the road quickly. After spritzing on some setting spray you rushed into your closet and pulled the bag off of your new dress and smiled as soon as you saw it again. You quickly got undressed and slipped into it. You hurried back to the vanity to get a visual to tie the pieces of fabric for the halter top and you were struggling a bit.

“Sweetheart, are you almost-” Caleb’s voice stopped as he just gawked for a moment before he smiled, “Wow.” He said softly as your eyes met though the mirror.

“Yeah? Like it? Is this okay?” You asked timidly and he nodded.

“Yeah. You look great.” He smiled as he came up behind you, “Need some help?”

“Please.” You responded and he aided in getting the ties situated. 

“There you are, my darling. You all packed?” He asked softly and you nodded and allowed him to peck your lips.

“Yeah, my bag’s on the bed.” you said and he smiled.

“Perfect, I’ll take it and go start the car, OK?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” You assured and he went to do that as you wrapped up the final details of getting your shoes on, grabbing your purse, and finally getting on a bit of perfume and tucking a little travel version of it in your bag. You felt like a million bucks for the first time since Harry…and well, it was nice to feel good on your own, not because of another person so this felt so special. Like you were reclaiming yourself in a way. And so with that feeling of confidence making you glow you grabbed the bottle of wine you’d purchased as a gift and locked up the house before you carefully slipped into Cal’s Quattroporte, it was his baby and he’d take it out anytime he was feeling on top of the world. You hoped that you had something to do with it for now. 

The GPS indicated that you guys were heading down towards the Hamptons, which was a bit over an hour drive. Cal was conversing with you about your work and clients, which was kind of odd. He never really cared much for your event planning business apart from giving you the start up money. But you soon realized that he was nervous because he was incessantly tapping at the steering wheel and clearly, he was talking with you to keep his mind off of whatever was making him feel this way. You wondered if it was the fact that this was going to be your first time meeting his work friends? You knew that he always tried to create boxes to compartmentalize his life and merging them could sometime be nerve-racking. Instead of letting it trip you up and darken all of the light and positive feelings your were having over this invitation, you decided to just focus on how good you felt.

“Sweetheart, we’re almost there.” Cal’s voice and his firm squeeze to your knee roused you from your slumber. You yawned and rolled your shoulders back.

“Sorry, didn’t realize I fell asleep.” You spoke a bit groggily and he smiled at you. 

“God, did you guys rent out the biggest Airbnb?” You asked as you looked out the window. You were driving down the line of mansions by the coast.

“No. Didn’t spend a dime on this getaway thankfully.” He chuckled, “We’re going to the CEO’s vacation home.” He explained and you quickly turned to him.

“The CEO rents out his vacation home in the Hamptons to his employees?” You asked him incredulously, Harry seemed way too Type A for something like that.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.” He scoffed through a laugh, “He’s the one throwing the party for us.” He explained and your stomach literally turned and you swore you were about to start sweating cold.

“So w-we’re sleeping at your boss’ house? You said it was work friends!” You said to him with panic in your eyes.

“Did I not mention that?” He asked and you shook your head, still in disbelief, “Oh, well either way, Harry’s from work and I mean, we’re not really friends or anything yet, but we’re friendly.” He explained, “And well, considering I just made him half a million dollars richer this week alone I’d say we’re about to get a lot more chummy.” He explained with a cocky grin.

“Cal, my tits are out! No one’s gonna take me seriously now…oh god.” You mumbled lowly and he chuckled.

“It’s alright, s’not like this is an official work event.” He assured you. 

But suddenly you didn’t feel so hot in your dress. You didn’t want Harry to think that you wore this dress as soon as you heard it was at his place to impress him or to try and seduce him after you had both agreed that it was a one time thing. Yes, he was hot and you had played with the idea at first, but that’s all it was! An idea. A fantasy that you could keep playing at in your mind but had no intention of following through with. You didn’t seek each other out because you both knew that what had transpired between the two of you so many months ago had been a sort of lapse in judgement that you both just indulged in to do some justice to whatever had been in the air and sparking between you two that entire night. You weren’t a cheater like Cal and you weren’t interested in jeopardizing your marriage because for the last couple of months it felt like you were on the mend and you didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.

“All your coworkers are going to think I’m a whore.” You said with slight irritation and Cal scoffed.

“They will not. You should see some of the women they bring around…”

“I don’t even want to know what that means.” You mumbled lowly. “I just don’t want to make a bad impression or give anyone the wrong idea about…us. You know how people are already and-” 

“You worry too much about what other people think, sweetheart. Who cares? If I cared what everyone said or thought I wouldn’t have you, would I?” He asked you with a small smile and well, the fact that his tenderness did nothing to your heart was a bad sign, “I mean, what’s the point of living life if you’re not going to have fun and take risks? You took a fucking risk, sweetheart! And I’d say it payed off.” He grinned at you and you shook your head before looking away to avoid him from seeing you smile at his compliment, “Hey, don’t turn away, look at me, sweets.” He insisted as he squeezed your knee again and you reluctantly turned back to him, “It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you.” He assured you and you just exhaled slowly and nodded, forcing a smile onto your face.

Finally, you were pulling up through a large iron gate and following the path down to the entrance of the home. There was a parking attendant that signaled for Cal to pull into one of the lines that had been drawn out for a parking space. Thankfully, there were already other cars there, so you wouldn’t be alone with him and Harry until more guests arrived. As soon as Cal parked the car someone was opening up your door to help you out, it was all very extravagant. You wondered if Harry always had this level of service or if it was just because he had guests tonight.

“Thank you.” You smiled as the man extended his hand and helped you down form the vehicle.

“Certainly. Do you have any bags you’d like us to put in the guest room?”

“Oh sure, they’re in the trunk.” You informed him and he smiled and hurried on to the back. You shot Cal a look and he looked just as surprised at this level of attention and service. 

Cal did offer to help carry the bags, but the man insisted he would do it as he led them over to the entrance of the home. There, someone else was waiting and took over for the man that had helped at the car.

“Good evening, Mr. Hargrove.” The man greeted Caleb with a nice smile before slightly glancing to you, “And who-”

“Gerard, this is my lovely wife, Y/N.” He said with a bit of emphasis which was odd, specially when Gerard’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. It shouldn’t have been too much of a shock to her…Harry himself had said that he had no idea Caleb was married.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Hargrove.” Gerard smiled and well, you hadn't actually changed your surname, but you didn't have the heart to correct Gerard. He looked to be a sweet man a already had been thrown for a loop just knowing that you were Caleb's wife.

“Pleasure to meet you, just Y/N is fine though.” You assured with a friendly smile and he nodded once.

“Well, I can escort you to the room you’ll be staying in before guiding you to the dining area?”

“Please, that would be great. I’d like to freshen up a bit”, “That won’t be necessary, just tell me which room.” You and Caleb spoke at the same time and then chuckled.

“Umm, you can go head, honey. I just want to freshen up and use the bathroom before we start drinking. I’ll meet you over there.” You assured him.

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah, of course. Go celebrate with everyone.” You insisted and he smiled and grabbed your face gently before kissing your lips quickly.

“Thanks, sweetheart. See you in a bit.” He assured and you nodded.

“Alright, let me show you to your bedroom.” Gerard said and then he got a bit awkward when you were alone as he guided you down a hallway.

“Ummm Gerard?”

“Yes, miss?”

“You don’t have to be weird around me. I expected that Cal had been here before with another person. Or persons…” you explained as you kept walking.

“Right. Well I’m sorry for making you feel odd, I just had no idea Mr. Hargrove had been married recently.” He said and your smile faltered a bit.

“Umm…it’s been seven years actually.” You said as he stopped in front of a door and turned around quickly with a concerned look on his face. “Ummm, have you worked for Mr. Styles for long?” You asked and he nodded.

“About 15 years.” He stated.

“And Caleb has…stayed here with other women how many times?” You asked him.

“I don’t know that I should-”

“I’m not going to cause a scene, I assure you. I just…I need to figure out if there’s anything worth salvaging after the most recent affair. It’s the only one I found out about.” You explained and he looked sad for you.

“I wish I could tell you for certain, but since he started working for Mr. Styles I uh- I’m really not sure, but there’s been a few. I’m sorry.” He said and you sighed.

“Alright, well thanks anyway. Is this it?”

“Yes, this is the room.” He said as he opened it up and let you in. He came in behind you and set your bags down on the large bed. “You have your own bathroom through here. If you need anything ironed or steamed for tomorrow feel free to just leave it hung up on one of these hooks and we’ll take care of it while you’re at dinner.” He assured.

“Thank you so much, this is gorgeous.”

“Of course, Miss. Anything else?”

“Obviously you’re quite busy, how would I find the dining area after I’m done?” You asked and he quickly explained and you nodded, keeping his directions fresh in your mind before you scurried into the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you and then turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as all of the information that Gerard had shared with you started to sink in. You started to wonder how long ago the cheating had started…maybe it was before you had even been married. The only good thing that could come of this dinner was seeing Harry again. And well, you knew that he probably wouldn’t even speak to you too much, but at the very least you could just steal discreet glances of him and forget about the fact that your marriage was basically a farce. But that wasn't all Caleb's fault, after all you had also slept with someone else. With his fucking boss of all people. But god, you would do it again if he wanted to...

***********

Caleb was glad that you had headed off to check out the room and freshen up. He had been so in his head about so much that Gerard almost tipped you off about his affairs. He had always been a man who wanted the best, who wanted more…and well when he got you he was shocked that he had managed it. You were everything he had ever wanted in a partner and throw in the fact that you weren’t just after his money, well he snatched you up right away lest he lose you to someone else. It’s not that he wasn’t happy with you and everything you had together, but sometimes he just needed to switch it up, he had always been like that so he never advertised that he was married. And while usually his extramarital affairs were limited to single events for work, things started to change when he met Daniela. Daniela wasn’t as ambitious or entrepreneurial as you were. In fact, she was a midlevel employee and seemed happy in her position. But she was about your age, if not a year or two younger, and yes she was smart and gorgeous in her own way, but she never made an effort to stand out all that much, but she was so good at what she did that she naturally stood out.

He met Daniela two years ago when he was told that she was the most reliable statistical analytics person they had. So he started to go to her to double check all his numbers, a second pair of eyes could never hurt when it came to numbers! But he soon found it helpful to also run all of the data he had for presentations to clients and other board members by her. Daniela was sweet and soft spoken and a bit shy while Cal was a people person. So what started out as him just doing nice things to get on her good side so that she would keep helping him, soon turned into gestures designed to increase their interactions because he liked her. His acts of kindness became motivated by these deeper feelings that he himself couldn’t understand at first because she was the opposite of everything he ever really went for, but they were there. Daniela had started to like his attention and thoughtfulness and so they started to have lunch together often or to get coffee together and the attraction grew.

All of this wooing reached it’s culmination after a Thanksgiving party a coworker threw. Caleb offered to walk Dani to her car and they ended up kissing. And after that they continued to see each other outside of work and Cal started to fall for her. He had pulled her into his project with this new client, so that they could spend more time together but also to get her on Harry’s radar because she was absolutely brilliant. But he had fucked it up; upon realizing the depth of his feelings for Daniela he decided to start writing out some talking points to talk to you about his growing feelings for her and brainstorm how to bring up the topic of a divorce to you. But Dani had no idea he was married, so when she saw that notes on his phone she got angry and broke things off with him. And here he was, months later, still heart broken and longing for Daniela.

“You look beautiful.” Caleb spoke softly as he came up to the bar beside Daniela. She sighed as she recognized his voice.

“What do you want, Caleb?” She asked lowly.

“Just to talk and explain. I want to fix us-”

“There is no more us, Caleb. You’re married and I have a boyfriend now so get over it.” She stated firmly and he sighed.

“Please just…I’m going to end it with her-”

“Caleb, please not tonight.”

“Does that mean we can talk soon?” He asked hopefully and she sighed.

“I don’t know, Cal…I’m just processing all of the lies…I just don’t trust you right now.”

“OK, I understand. I’ll just…give you some space.” He said and she nodded, “I ummm…I want to warn you that I did bring her with me tonight. I stupidly wanted to make you jealous-”

“Jesus, Cal..." she sighed feeling the anxiety starting to churn up her stomach, "Just…keep it together because I don’t want anyone to be suspicious and think I’m a home wrecker.”

“No one even knows I’m married. I like to keep the personal things private. So everyone will be meeting her tonight and learning about...my marital status so-”

“Well I don’t want to meet her. I couldn’t, it's humiliating…” she said lowly and he nodded.

“OK. I won’t introduce you.” He said and she swallowed down that awful feeling of disgust in herself, “I’m really sorry, Dani. For everything.” He said quietly as the bartender came back with her two drinks.

“Thank you.”  She smiled to the bar tender and hurried off without acknowledging his apology…again.

“Anything for you sir?” He asked and Caleb sighed.

“Ummm, not right now. Thank you.” He assured and turned around only to see Daniela smiling at the man she had brought with her tonight. 

He looked about her age and was quite bulky and strong, very handsome. Caleb couldn’t help but feel insecure as she watched him being introduced to some of the others that approached her. This wasn’t a big group, just about 10 of them or so, but with the plus ones, the group was a bit larger and well, hopefully he could sit somewhere where he could keep an eye on her. He felt his heart lurching in defeat as her boyfriend tucked her hair behind her ear in a delicate motion, she had this piece from her outgrown bangs that really defied her new hair part. He’d done the same thing to her plenty of times before and he wished he could be the one to do it for her now. 

Caleb had really tried to smooth things over with Daniela at the very least but she felt so betrayed. Understandably so, and she made it clear to him that she wasn’t ready to forgive him and that she intended to move on with someone else and it hurt that she seemed to be fairing well. Caleb had tried to move on too, to focus back on you and your marriage…hopefully being around you more would reignite the love he once had for you, but it wasn’t happening, he was too far gone.

He was running out of lifelines to salvage his chances with Dani. Earlier in the week, when Tamika (Harry’s assistant/intern) mentioned to him casually that she was excited to meet Daniela’s boyfriend at Harry’s dinner Cal felt his heart darken with anger. And in his anger he decide that he wanted to make Daniela jealous back, which is why he invited you, his wife to this dinner… all to make his mistress jealous. He knew that this was fucked up and unfair to you, but he was in love and he was desperate to get Daniela back however he could and she would be his again tonight. He had no idea how to proceed, but he was certain of one thing, whatever he did to get Dani back had to be done with courage, all the love in his heart, and most important of all, with discretion.

READ PART 2!

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[hoshieeyewrinkles]

D o c t o r p a r k

Pairing: Doctor! Jay x Bimbo! Reader

Genre: smut

W.c: 2.5k

| Requested | Not proofread |

Tw warning: extreme humiliation, heavy degradation, anal sex, spanking, fingering, shoe humping, umm reader is put into a wedgie, Jay fingered her belly button 😭, Filth.

"I'm feeling a bit dizzy, Mr. Kim," you lamented, trying to evoke a sense of concern from your professor, who simply looked at you with skepticism. "I'm a bit concerned Miss.Y/n because you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks. Maybe you should take the day off and ask your friends for notes." Your professor suggested the idea, and you reluctantly agreed, secretly rolling your eyes. In reality, you didn't actually have any dizziness or headaches. You just wanted an excuse to escape class and visit the nurse's office in hopes of catching a glimpse of the incredibly attractive Doctor Park, also known as Doctor Jay.

You have been on his tail since the past weeks, wanting to get into his pants than anything else. Though your plans have gone unsuccessful as he merely shrugged you off crushing your hopes in an instant. He was extremely stern and focused on his work. The university you were studying in was a prestigious one with strict protocols hiring the best lecturers, the best staff and the hottest doctor.

He was everything you ever wanted. He was smart, young, well-built and probably had a big dick too given by his attitude. Oh how you wished to feel his strong arms around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold.

There you were once again, waiting for him to notice you, in his office. With his white coat dangling by his chair, he was glancing through his phone. His well-fitting black shirt revealed his biceps, and he had his hair pulled back, his trousers ironed and his leather shoes lightly tapping the floor. You wished the floor was you instead. You were relieved that his nurse had taken a lunch break, but you found her annoying because of her privilege to always be around doctor Jay.

"Oh Miss.Y/n you again?" He questioned blankly, though the 'again' seemed a little emphasised. "Yes, doctor Park, I am feeling a little unwell." You responded in a soft tone, your voice coming across as seductive, as you had intended. Jay raised an eyebrow and slightly shook his head, his gaze drawn to your choice of outfit. A white mini skirt paired with a baby blue tube top. You were dressed in very little as usual, and his gaze was drawn to your sparkling headband and red nails, which would look stunning wrapped around his fat cock. He was fully aware of your intentions, but he could not afford to give in to them just yet.

"Miss.Y/n, you have come here three times this week. You already have a prescription from me for headache medication. Despite the fact that you showed no symptoms, you previously claimed to have a fever. What symptoms do you have now? Would you mind informing me, hm?" He inquired in the most casual tone. His tone already has your pussy throbbing. He was overconfident and a stuck-up asshole in the sexiest way possible.

"I feel some pain here, doctor." You said that, and then you moved over to the hospital bed and laid down next to his chair without asking. With a silent exhale, he looked up at you. Your top was dropping to expose your cleavage, and your skirt was perilously riding up to expose your soft mid-thighs.

"Where does it hurt, Miss Y/n?" He questioned unfazed, despite the fact that his mind was racing. You pouted slightly at his unaffected demeanour, your pink glossy lips tempting him to bite them. He was annoyed by the way you fluttered your eyes at him, acting as if you knew nothing about anything. It made him so angry that he wanted to rip off your pathetic excuse for clothes and rail you to the end. The thoughts which went through his mind every time he saw you would have him fired from the university, have his licence suspended.

"Here..." You pointed directly at your crotch, expecting him to be either flustered or disgusted. To your surprise, he smirked. "I understand what you are doing, Y/n," he said, shaking his head and dropping the honorific. He did not let you respond when he spoke again. "I must say, it is funny."

"What do you mean, doctor?" You asked innocently, but your heart raced as you wondered what he was thinking. "Nothing, are you sure your litte princess parts doesn't hurt because of taking the whole football team?" He questioned and your jaw dropped. He let out a snort at your expression "What? Am I lying?" His smirk widens when your face starts to turn red, burning in humiliation.

"Does your skirt length correspond to your level of comprehension? You dirty vulgar girl" He asked again degrading you. "Doctor....that's really mean of you! You are slut-shaming and y-you are insulting me." In reply, you stumbled over your words. "I'm not slut shaming you y/n. I'm simply stating out facts which I have heard around and which you have showed around me, how is that offensive, sweetheart?" He questioned amused, his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your dumb expression. You were nothing but a dumb slut who could barely live her life without a cock. He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together at the nickname he called you.

"The whole football team—hell, I do not even know their names, they did not sleep with me. Doctor Jay,how can you believe them?" You asked, your bottom lip quivering as you pouted at him. You were not so naive as to miss his taunts, but you were sick enough to take pleasure in the embarrassment he was causing you. Jay laughed because he thought you were cute and there were no rumours that you were sleeping with the whole football team. He made them up himself to see how smart you are, and you were clearly one of the dumbest girls he has ever met. Probably the sluttiest too.

Lucky for you, he loved sluts.

You did not have time to think when he lifted your skirt, revealing your drenched panties, which were stuck to your pussy lips. "I- Doctor Park, what the hell are you doing!" You yelled at him, attempting to push your skirt down, but he held it firmly between his fingers. "Stop pretending, baby; you have been doing this for weeks, trying to seduce me with your pathetic excuse of tops barely holding your saggy tits and these fucking skirts that keep getting shorter, coming to my office almost every day." He paused for a moment licking his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. "Did you enjoy the humiliation I put you through, y/n? it made your pussy throb, yeah?"

You let out a small moan and nodded desperately, letting your fake innocent demeanour slip as you grabbed his hand, which was holding the hem of your skirt and guiding it onto your cunt. "Please, Doctor Park, it hurts."

He chuckled in response, shaking his head slightly. "Well, as your doctor, I must investigate what is going on with you, princess." His eyes were filled with lust. He pushed his morality and principles to the back of his mind. Fuck, he needed your slutty pussy right now. It was the prettiest cunt he would ever see, and he was not going to pass up this opportunity to use you.

He removed his hand from your crotch and opened the drawer in front of him. You watched him with curiosity, desperate to get his fingers, mouth, and cock inside you right away. He shuffled through his belongings before reaching for a pair of white gloves and putting them on. Your eyes widened at his actions.

"Your little nasty pussy does not deserve to be touched by my bare hands." He spoke in a low deep voice earning a whine from you. "Fuck, look at those juices. You are such a shameless whore." You felt your insides twist at his tone change. He was such an unpredictable man with no filter, treating you in the most humiliating ways, which only made you want him more. You would let him do whatever he wanted with you. You were down bad for him.

Without any warning he inserted his gloved finger inside you, it went in so smoothly as you were completely drenched. "Are you enjoying this? How embarassing y/n, is this why you joined this university? To suck cocks? To have your little cunt pounded by everyone?" You didn't reply to any of his questions busy in pleasure be was giving you, letting out small whimpers. He added two more fingers, aggressively fingering you. The wet, gushing sounds filled the room: "Doctor Park... P-please. Want to feel your fingers." You begged, squirming around, getting closer to your high. He ignored your words and lifted your tube top above your stomach, exposing your belly button to him. "Would you like to be fucked there too?" He aggressively pushed his other hand's fingers inside your belly button. You give a squeak at the sensation, moaning like the whore you are.

Your cunt and belly button getting fingered by his thick fingers simultaneously, releasing waves of pleasures inside you. You were thrashing around uncontrollably, overcome with pleasure. "Calm down, slut. I'm just getting started. Turn around." He ordered and you complied feeling a bit disappointed that you didn't get to cum. "but I didn't..." He cut you off harshly after landing a slap on your pussy "Not everything is about you."

He stuck your underwear in a wedgie, and you winced at the burning sensation on your pussy lips. Without warning, he pulled the wedgie and snapped it back, causing you to let out a painful screech. "This is how dirty little girls like you deserve to be treated," he said before snapping the wedgie several more times. You thrashed around, biting your palm to muffle your voice. He eventually stopped his assault on your ass crack and removed your underwear. What further humiliated you was the way he held your underwear with just two fingers treating it like some dirty trash. "Put this drenched shit in your mouth so you'll keep your dumb mouth shut." He threw the underwear in your face, and you did as he said, shoving it inside your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of your juices inside your mouth.

You never knew being treated in such humiliating way would turn you on so much. "Fuck look at this ass" he grunted kneading the flesh in his gloved hands. His cock was about to burst through his trousers. He enjoyed treating you in this manner because that is what dumb little cock sluts like you deserve, constantly seducing people and putting their jobs in risk. You needed to be taught a lesson that would put you in your proper place.

He began spanking your ass harshly until you were numb, your moans muffled by your panties. "This. is. exactly what naughty girls like you deserve." He spat on your asshole making sure it's lubricated enough. "I have no intention of using your nasty pussy but this tight ass deserve to be pounded." He unbuckled his belt throwing it aside and letting his cock stand in all glory. You tried to turn back, to look at his cock but he smacked your ass again "Don't turn back. I don't wanna see your spit covered dirty face." He degraded you before lifting you by the stomach and placing you on your hands and knees.

He pushed his cock into your hole, letting out the most seductive moan that nearly made you cum. "Mhmm..." You let out a muffled moan, and despite the pain, you could not stop pushing back on his cock. He began to pound into you with great speed, his hips slamming into your bruised ass. The pain from the wedgie assault lingered, and him pushing his cock into your whole aggravated it.

"Messy dumb slut." He yanked your hair back, his hips moving with uncontrollable speed. "Fuck, this is what you wanted right? To be fucked by me? To be treated like nothing, you are truly shameful." His words kept pushing you to your edge. Jay bit his lip at your state, your plump ass looked so bruised. Your belly button was red from his assault. He felt all of his stress disappear as he fucked your ass. "Touch yourself for me, baby," he asked, and you began to rub your clit vigorously, feeling your high return, but before you could cum, he pulled out his cock and released himself over your ass. You took out the underwear from your mouth. "Doctor park, I couldn't cum." You whined, panting loudly. He didn't reply, taking his gloves out before disposing them into the trash can nearby.

"And? How is that my problem?" He asked cockily, sitting back in his chair, manspreading, his cock still out. "Doctor park that's not fair!" You yelled in frustration before crawling out of bed, landing on your knees. Jay bit his lip at your sight, you looked so desparate and filthy. "Suck my cock and make yourself cum, angel." He pushed his leather shoe on your clit. You immediately took his cock in your mouth slurping on it messy while grinding on his hoe. "You dirty insatiable girl!" He said chuckling at your messed up state pushing your mouth deeper onto his cock.

You were still grinding hard on his hoe, moaning on his cock and rubbing your covered breast against his leg. Lost in the blissful pleasure he was receiving from your sensual lips, he was letting out soft moans. You were truly like the wettest and the filthiest dream he ever had. You came on his shoe grinding like a whore and he pushed you back before spraying his cum on your top. You both took few minutes to catch your breath before he wore his pants back and glanced at your dumb state. "Get up." He gave the order, and you stumbled to your feet, drenched in sweat, saliva, and cum. "Pick your underwear and clean my shoe."

You obeyed his orders cleaning his shoe with your underwear "Wear them back." You were about to protest, but his one look stopped you, and you wore the dirty, completely drenched panties back. You felt so nasty yet so good. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, running your hand through his styled hair, messing it up. He patted your ass, breaking off the kiss. "You can rest on the bed while I bring you something to eat." He said, and you felt the heat rush back into your face as you nodded shyly. You laid back on the bed watching him collect his things. "Remember don't remove the underwear till your day ends, it will be a reminder for you to know what happens to naughty pretentious girls like you."

His words made you whine and nod submissively, "Perhaps I will use your little pussy next time, princess."

[zaynesaurora]

ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to you being rough in bed — (MDNI)

a/n: boy this really went somewhere // blindfolding, choking, handcuffing, 69'ing.

zayne ! fights you for control at first, typically being the care taker in every other relationship- platonic or romantic, means he shifts into his 'giving' insticts with little thought and finds it hard to lie back and take it, so to speak. easiest work around is to tie a dark blindfold across his eyes and let him rely on his senses- help him trust that he's in good hands.

he's particularly pliant when you play with his senses. zayne won't ever speak it into reality but he doesn't need to- not when his skin pimples up as you drag your nails across his upper thighs, ghosting his nether regions in a way that has his chest filling full of the air he's desperately trying to hold on to. he's sat on his hands. hopelessly trying to allow you this moment of torment on his behalf as he thrusts into nothingness when your hand disappears again.

"patience, doctor. let me take care of my patient thoroughly'

xavier ! is the one lying back and taking it. he likes being attended to and doing the least amount of work possible- kinda lazy in bed but it’s a win win for everyone because it means he’s down to let you do just about anything to him, using him for your own pleasure like the biggest love doll in production. xavier has a soft spot for you wrapping something around his neck, forcing him into your personal space as you degrade him just a teeny tiny bit.

crumbles into a million little pieces when you pull him so close that your chests rub together as you ride him- perky nipples almost sore from the friction, heartbeat thrumming in his head as he tries to hear through the rush of blood to his ears. he tries to fall back onto his elbows. tries to stop it as his eyes roll back in his skull- but you have him suspended in mid air by his neck, arms slack by his side.

"you're so dirty, baby boy"

rafayel ! love love loves it, he is a brat and needs to be tamed. takes great pleasure in riling you up no matter the setting, taunting you at every opportunity because he just knows exactly how to work his way around you- pushing you into the line of command without you even noticing because he wants to be doted on every second of his day. in true rafayel fashion, the moment would be ruined entriely if you didn’t, praise should line every word that leaves your mouth.

he likes to pretend he's in control still, lengthy monologues leaving his mind and being muttered in your general direction with a fake sliver of annoyance- even when his hands are cuffed infront of him, just shy of being able to paw at his own cock. he's forced to watch as your ride out your own high, red and angry as he drips at the visual- dick begging for relief as he throbs in a wild rhythym, completely polar opposite to the words flowing from his vocal chords.

"whats wrong pretty? you can take care of me now, yeah?"

— bonus —

caleb ! it's like two cats swatting fists at each other- i'm in control! no, i'm in control! kind of back and forth until you pin him on his back, legs staddling either side of his head as you rub yourself to the bump in his nose and pull him from his sweats- the only way to putting the bickering to an end, is to put both mouths to good use, at the same time. dives in no questions asked.

"stop talking, caleb. put your mouth to use."

[emperor-kumquat]

Fandom, WTF

It's not just X; it could happen here too. My fucking god, a Transformers YouTuber almost did the unspeakable last night because of cyberbullying. Because people who claim they are being heroic are doing such terrible things. And they do it so damn fast.

(The YouTuber is more stable and safe at the moment)

You don't need to know the exact details, but the person made a post on X that was a little iffy. Not discriminatory to anyone, not an inappropriate picture or anything. The kind of thing that SHOULD have led to a discussion to change his opinion. And that's what the some other YouTubers and I did, we talked to him, and he regretted his words and changed his mind. Just like that. So fucking easy.

He wanted to write an apology and tell everyone he understood the issue now, but he was struggling to. His account was reported and suspended over and over. In the end, he did manage to write that apology on X and tell people he changed his opinion. That kind of thing can happen when we act patiently and try to guide people! But before then, other people were DMing him madly on Discord and X to say horrible shit, show gore, tell him to die. People were photoshopping a convicted criminal's face onto his profile pic. Friends severed ties without even talking to him. People doxxed him and someone left him a threatening phone call.

These people probably loved the excuse to do it. They would happily slap a label on someone then act dramatic about it. They pile on the hate because "that creator deserves it", they think.

How can you do any of the above and think you are a good person??

What on Earth happened to giving people the benefit of the doubt? Out of all the ways a statement could be interpreted, why do people choose the most negative instead of the most positive? When drama hits and your friend is involved, how can you leave without at least hearing the other side of the story? How can you forget that you may be harassing someone who has mental health or is neurodivergent?

It's like people love being mad. They want to put a bad label on someone, like some kind of "_ist", "_phobe", or a "p*do". They don't need much evidence before attacking. Here on Tumblr a while back, some people very eagerly wanted to harass me. They called me transphobic. The reality they didn't care to find out: I am trans, I make trans activist videos, I go on the front lines countering anti-trans protests in Canada while getting screamed at by conservatives for hours. Get real. If you are so quick to hate someone and label them, you were probably just eager to misinterpret anything they said to get a chance to be angry. You don't know them and you are not a sensible, fair person. They act like a pack of wolves if they can tell themselves it's justified. It is NOT justified. They should be ashamed. They are just bullies hiding behind a hero’s mask.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. PEDRI

summary. you’d always claimed pedri as yours while he always found you as a disturbance to his life. here’s the timeline of your relationship.

warnings. angst, fluff, asshole!pedri, kind of annoying reader(?), virginity mentions, and a love triangle?

a/n. this goes out to all the delusional girlies like me. gif by pedripics

september 2007

the look of horror on your teacher’s face contrasted your calm demeanor. you thought she was overreacting when in truth she was not. you were too calm for what had just happened to you. doña rosy’s son had just cut off a huge chunk of your hair and was currently running around the class displaying it like a prize. the fact that you weren’t as upset as you should’ve been shocked your teacher.

the reality of it is that you thought pedro was cute and somehow instead of crying about your loss of hair you were rather flattered about it. you were quite literally insane for thinking that somehow this demonstrated that pedro liked you. at least that’s what your older cousin would say.

“boys are mean because they like you.” her words echoed in your mind.

soon the two of you along with your parents and pedro’s older brother fer were in the principals office. your mother was in shock and couldn’t believe that you’d have to start your hair growth process all over again. meanwhile, pedro’s mom was full of embarrassment and of course both father’s couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of them. after all you were both just kids who didn’t know better.

“well it seems your daughter isn’t too upset about the events that occurred therefore i have no reason to suspend pedro.” the principal decided.

“what? he cut off a chunk of my daughters hair! it will take months for it to grow back! surely there’s got to be some form of punishment for him?” your mother yelled.

“but mom i’m not mad at him.” you tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“fine. pedro is designated table cleaner after lunch for the rest of the month and no recess for a week.” the principal sighed.

“but mrs. dominguez we play football during recess hour i can’t miss it!” pedro whined.

“you should’ve thought about that before chasing your classmate with scissors and almost leaving her hairless.” she scolded him.

on the way out of mrs. dominguez’s office pedro’s parents couldn’t stop apologizing for what he had done. meanwhile, all you could do was stare at him. he was the cutest boy you had ever seen, given that you were only six and didn’t know any better obviously. it didn’t take long for him to notice your glare and he began to approach you slowly. you lifted your shoulders thinking this was finally going to be the moment he declared his undying love for you like men did in the movies. you stood there stupidly with a smile plastered on your face.

“i should’ve cut off the other side of your hair if i knew you’d stop me from playing football. i hate you.” he told you before chasing after his older brother.

any other girl would’ve started crying, well more like any other smart girl. they would’ve realized he meant what he said but not you. you simply thought he was bluffing that he still wasn’t ready to confess his feelings. so, you simply brushed it off and picked up your book bag. you couldn’t wait for saturday, the day your family always went to his parents restaurant to have dinner. maybe he’d confess then.

october 2013

the humid hot air of the island almost made you turn around and go back home but your foolishness made you continue your walk. it took you almost fifteen minutes to make it to the local football field but alas you had arrived on time for kickoff. you sat next to fer, someone you had somehow gotten close with the last few years. it also helped that he was pedro’s brother and allowed for you to be close to him.

“why are you here?” fer turned around to face you.

“geez, didn’t know i was such a bother to you.” you joked.

“oh, come on! i like you my brother hates you which is why i’m so surprised as to why you’re here.” he looks back onto the field spotting his brother.

“pedro doesn’t hate me he’s just too scared to confess his feelings for me.” you playfully hit fer on the shoulder.

“yeah, okay. just don’t give him too many children i don’t want to take care of too many kids in the future.” he jokes.

the both of you chat for a bit catching up on your day to day when all of a sudden the ball hits the back of the net and the local crowd, which consists purely of parents and siblings, goes wild. you notice it’s pedro who has scored as he starts running towards the area you and fer are located and blows a kiss to the crowd. like the delusional girl you are you pretend it’s meant for you. no, you know it is because you’re still stuck on the idea that pedro is devotedly in love with you.

the referee blows the whistle and tegueste takes the win with a score of 4-1. you immediately follow fer onto the pitch to congratulate his younger brother and find him chatting with his teammates. pedro immediately goes up to his brother and starts thanking him for coming as their parents couldn’t since it was a busy night at the restaurant. you get ready to tell him how well he played but as soon as he sees you he walks away.

you’re supposed to be embarrassed but somehow you think he’s the one who is. you think that he’s too nervous to be around you and that’s why he left so suddenly. you’re about to walk back home when one of his teammates stops you.

“hey!” he seems excited to talk to you.

“hi.” you greet him back.

“i’m xabi, does your brother play here?” he asks curiously.

“uh no. my friend does. pedro.” you explain.

“oh! pedro! he’s great! he’s going to be good i think. do you go to-” he’s interrupted by pedro himself.

pedro is too quick and silent you don’t even notice that he’s been sneaking up on you until he’s standing right in front of you. he’s staring at you with a devious smile on his face and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“you know what we usually do after a win?” pedro asks you.

“we grab the buck-” xabi is once again interrupted.

“shut up xabi.” pedro turns around to shut xabi up.

“we usually grab the bucket of water and pour it on all the scorers but today i proposed that we do something differently. i think you were our lucky charm and that’s why we should pour it on you.” his smile somehow grows wider.

you’re flattered at first but then realization hits you. the dress you’re wearing is too cute to end up drenched. most importantly you didn’t want to get sick. your smile falters when you see his teammates approaching you with the large bucket of ice cold water.

“no, pedro please.” you beg.

he tries to hold you still but your instincts kick in and you immediately kick his ankle. he lets go and you immediately start running. you don’t realize it but he starts chasing after you. you’re about to cross the street when he grabs you from behind and pushes you against the wall. he has a smirk on his face again. you panic not wanting to get soaked. you try to kick him again but this time he doesn’t budge and you’re about to give up when suddenly an idea pops up in your mind.

you grab his cheeks and kiss him.

“what?” he’s confused.

you can’t help but smile at the way his cheeks turn pink but you don’t have a lot of time so as soon as his grip on you loose a you take a run for it. you arrive home exhausted and out of breath. you dramatically fall on your bed with a smile on your face excited that at your wedding you’ll be able to tell all your guests about today.

november 2019

it had been around a year since pedri, as they now called him, left the island in pursuit of a football career. it had also been six months since you gave up on the relationship you had hoped to have with him and it had been approximately three weeks since you had started seeing xabi. something you would’ve only thought would happen if pedri had stopped existing. fer told you to be more optimistic about xabi and that he actually liked you because he would’ve never pranked called the local pizzeria and sent forty pizzas to your house.

the three of you were currently gathered at the beach alongside some of pedri’s friends patiently waiting for him. fer had told you that he would be staying for a week before going back to preseason with las palmas. being the kind person you were you had organized a welcome back party for him with the help of fer. you’d paid for the food, drinks, and the cake that would be delivered later that night.

fer watched you carefully decorate one of the wooden tables with all the snacks and drinks. it was so obvious you still cared about his brother and it somehow made him mad that his brother never reciprocated your feelings. even though pedri didn’t owe it to you to feel the same way it just made him mad that he had always treated you bad for no reason. you had never done anything wrong to pedri prior to his teasing so fer always wondered where his brother’s hatred for you came from.

fer doesn’t have much time to wonder about his brother because said person was already making his way towards him. he’s about to run towards him when he notices somebody else behind him, a girl. he quickly turns around to look for you but you’re too distracted with making sure everything looks nice that you don’t notice pedri or the girl with him. it’s not until everyone starts greeting him that you notice his presence. you don’t expect him to talk to you so you stay back with xabi and that’s when you notice the girl next to him.

you’re surprised at yourself for feeling jealous and hurt because you thought you had finally moved on from your stupid childhood crush. xabi’s arm wraps around your waist at the sight of pedri as if the midfielder’s presence threatened him. you turn around facing the beach not wanting to see pedri and his girlfriend, you assumed that’s who she was. you’re too entranced by the waves to see the look he sends your way and more specifically the way he glared at xabi’s arm around your waist.

who did he think he was? just because he was named after one of the greatest spanish players of all time he was some hotshot? pedri mentally scoffs at the fact that his old teammate had finally been able to ask you out. he had practically drooled over year since the first time you showed up to his games. he grabs alba’s hand in spite. alba was just his friend but felt the urge to rub her in front of your face. he didn’t know why he felt so mad at seeing you with xabi or why he was also upset that you weren’t looking at him in admiration anymore.

“xabi! it’s been so long.” he greets your boyfriend.

you can smell his cologne, the one fer had bought for him last minute when he had visited his younger brother in las palmas. it was intoxicating. you finally turn around to face him and it’s like primary school all over again. you mentally slap yourself for still feeling flustered around him especially after all the damage he’d done to you. the girl he brought offers you a smile and you can only giver her a weak one back not knowing how to feel. xabi treated you so well yet he wasn’t pedri.

as soon as he’s done speaking with your boyfriend he walks away as expected. you don’t feel embarrassed nor angry anymore but rather relieved you don’t have to face the feelings you thought you didn’t have anymore. you took a step back fixing your skirt and making sure your appearance was okay. xabi notices how you fidget. he always does. he notices the smallest things and you hate that you can’t reciprocate how he feels to the max.

“he’s an asshole.” he whispers making sure the two of you are the only ones who hear.

“xabi, come on.” you whine not wanting anything to break out tonight.

“what? it’s true! he’s treated you like shit since we were kids and he still does it now. he didn’t even say hi to you when you planned this whole thing.” your boyfriend claims.

he’s right but you’d never stop making up excuses for the man you’d probably love for the rest of your life.

“i mean i did annoy him every single day of his life until he left. he doesn’t owe me anything.” you replied.

“yeah, you were like 10 with a little girl crush on him so it doesn’t give him the right to act like that. he should just tell you that he doesn’t like you and leave it at that. he probably doesn’t even know that you help out doña rosy at the restaurant, or that you helped fer with his exams, or that you had convinced the principal to not take away his recess time to play football! it’s not fair to you!” xabi exclaims.

“you’re right but i just don’t want to fight him. not today. so promise me you won’t start anything?” you beg him.

he scoffs but then offers you a weak smile himself.

“yeah, okay but if he pulls some messed up shit tonight i can’t promise i won’t beat him up.” you both laugh at his words.

the two of you are unaware that you’re being watched by said asshole and that he’s gripping his cup to the point that the sofa starts dripping out of it. he starts looking for his brother leaving alba alone. in fact he completely forgets about alba when he can only notice how infatuated you are by xabi. what did xabi have that he didn’t? besides compassion and kindness since pedri clearly had the looks.

“when did they start dating?” is the first thing he asks his brother.

“wow, not even a i missed you or how have you been?” his brother scoffs.

“i missed you so much.” pedri pretends to care. “now answer my question.”

“why does it matter? you hate her?” fer continues to pour himself a drink oblivious to the fact that his younger brother is completely losing it.

“so? doesn’t mean i can’t ask about her?” pedri scoffs. “plus, look at him he’s such a loser. she could do better i guess.”

“better like who? you? please, don’t make me laugh. you’ve treated her like shit your entire life just because you knew how madly in love she is with you and now you’re interested? now, that’s she moved on with someone who cares about her? she is doing better. now go attend the guest you brought. it’s bad manners to leave her alone.” fer taunts his younger brother.

“fuck you.” pedri was always determined on having the last word.

on the way back towards alba an idea forms in his mind. it doesn’t take long for him to get everyone together. he brings an empty bottle and places it in the middle of the circle everyone had formed. the midfielder had decided to play spin the bottle with his old friends.

“so, here are the rules!” he speaks up. “when it’s your turn you spin the bottle and you get to ask them truth or dare. but if you ask a stupid question for truth i’ll skip your turn. now, who wants to go first?”

the game starts out light and fun but as the game goes on it becomes more intense and interesting. fer had somehow ended up skinny dipping with the girl next to him and an old friend of yours had confessed that she was the one who gave your old principal food poisoning with the cupcakes she had made. before you know it, it’s pedri’s turn. you stare at the bottle intently hoping it doesn’t land on you but as if the universe heard you it lands on you. the smirk he has on his face reminds you of the one who always had when he was about to do something to you.

“truth or dare?” he asks.

“truth.” you decided to go for the lighter option.

“is it true that you lost your virginity to xabi?” his first question takes you by surprise.

“what the fuck pedri?” xabi yells at him.

“shut up xabi and let her answer.” pedri glares at him.

“i don’t understand why that’s any of your concern-” you start.

“just answer the question and we’ll move on.” he urges.

“no.” you reply simply wanting to get this over with and go home.

fer is about to spin the bottle before pedri stops him. he looks back at you with a sly grin. your stomach churns and you start getting a bad feeling.

“wait, i’m not done. is it also true that you’ve had a crush on me since you were five and thought we would end up together even though i find you repulsive?” pedri started ranting.

you feel everyone’s eyes on you and soon you feel your eyes brim with tears. you don’t know why he’s suddenly putting you on the spot when you hadn’t spoken to him in a year. you’d thought he would’ve left you alone now that you were with xabi.

“well, don’t be shy now. come on? do you think about me when xabi kisses you or touc-” you don’t let him finish because you slap him, hard.

“maybe i was a pathetic little girl then who had no self respect but i do now so don’t ever talk to me like that again. i don’t care if you’re a future football star or the future prince of spain you have no right to speak to me like that. go to hell pedro.” you pick up your things getting ready to leave.

you take out thirty euros and hand them to fer.

“for the cake delivery. he should be here at 9.” is the last thing you say before you walk away with xabi closely following behind.

“what the fuck is your problem? did you just come back here to say all that bullshit to her?” fer confronts his younger brother.

“she shouldn’t have been here in the first place. she’s like a parasite.” pedri scoffs.

“without her i wouldn’t have planned this! she paid for everything and spent the whole day decorating this for you! she helps mom and dad out at the restaurant now that we get tourists there almost everyday. she helped me pass my exams and most importantly all those gifts i gave you when i visited where picked out by her. so, go to hell. i don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night so go home.” fer let’s him know.

pedri stands there in shock not knowing what to say. suddenly he feels horrible but he doesn’t want everyone else to notice so he picks up his shoulders ready to go home.

“oh and stay away from her. she finally found someone who cares about her and i don’t need your jealousy ruining that. xabi is going to play for girona next year and he’ll take care of her. i don’t need you fucking up anything else.” is the last thing his brother tells him.

you wake up to loud knocks on your door. you notice xabi isn’t next to you anymore meaning he’d probably left for training already. you yawn before slowly making your way towards the door. you don’t even check before opening the door something you regret when you see who’s on the other side. it’s pedri but now he’s rocking a black eye.

“your boyfriend paid me a visit last night.” is the first thing he says to you.

“shame.” you reply.

“huh?” he questions

“shame he didn’t get the other one as well.” you cross your arms.

“okay, i deserve that.”

“look pedri you have five minutes to tell me why you’re here before i call your parents and tell them you’re harassing me.” you say.

“i came to apologize. i was out of line last night and i fucked up. in truth i think i realized that i was jealo-”

“don’t pedri. you’ve had twelve years to tell me that you liked me or had a crush on me and instead you spent every single one of those humiliating me. maybe i was annoying but i have never disrespected you. now, leave. i’m happy with xabi and you’re not going to ruin that.” you interrupt him.

“but-”

“leave. we were never meant to happen. xabi is my person and i hope you find yours. hopefully someone nice and not full of hatred like you.” you slammed the door closed in front of him.

that day you call in sick for work and the day after that and so on until you heard news that pedri had gone back. his parents didn’t even question your absence after fer had told them what happened. you cried the first two days and then spent the next few days with xabi. in the span of those days he had asked you to move with him to girona and you didn’t even hesitate before accepting. maybe if you moved you’d loose all memories of the brown eyed boy you had once worshipped.

present day

the adjustment to barcelona wasn’t hard. the few years you were in girona were enough to learn catalan easily so you could communicate with almost anyone. the only problem was getting used to your new job at fc barcelona as a physical therapist. most of the players at girona barely stopped by opting to have surgery and recovering with their own staff. but at barça it was different, you were always busy with injured players as well as recovering players.

xabi and you had parted ways roughly six months ago when he transferred to roma. you couldn’t make the move not wanting to be too far from your home and you were surprised that he understood and took it likely. it was a rough breakup but not because he treated you bad or anything but because he had cared so much and now you felt alone. like you were missing your best friend.

you had stopped keeping up with pedri so you had no idea where he was now and had even stopped talking to fer to which he understood why. he wasn’t mad but he was upset that your friendship had failed because of his asshole brother. alas you shake your thoughts away when a knock on your office door interrupts you.

“come in!” you pick up the file that had been dropped off earlier about the player you’d be seeing today.

the door opens but you’re too engrossed by the files to notice who it is. you’re halfway into the summary of his injury until you notice you don’t even know who you’re treating. when you see the name up top your mind goes blank. you almost walk out the door at the sight of pedro’s name. you spend a few minutes panicking before remembering you’re being paid to be a professional so you gently get back into that mindset and set the file down.

“so the process of your recovery will include-”

“so, you’re just going to pretend that we don’t know each other?” pedri asks you.

“for the remainder of the time that i will work here? yes. now shut up and let me explain how your recovery process will go if you want to play again this season.” you scold him.

he just scoffs and shuts up.

“i assume the medical staff has already told you that you need to apply ice packs to the injured area several times a day as well as taking pain medicine?” you ask him.

“yeah.” he replies staring at the roof wanting to avoid your glare.

“okay so, as part of the healing process i’ll advise you certain gentle hamstring stretches to strengthen you and when the pain begins to subside we’ll move on to harder strengthening exercises. we’ll start working on them on tuesday. i believe that’s all so unless you have any other muscular issues or problems please let me know now.” you reply as stiffly as possible.

“are you and xabi still dating? i mean i assume you’re not or else you’d be in roma. unless you’re doing long distance but i doubt it, it never works out. he’s probably cheated on you by now.” pedri simply starts blabbering nonsense.

“don’t really understand why any of that concerns you.” you turn around to type up his file to the database.

“because you’re too good for him and quite frankly i don’t think you should be with him.” he stands near your desk.

“who should i be with? the asshole that let everyone back home know i was a virgin? don’t make me laugh pedro.” you look up at him to meet that same mischievous smirk from twelve years ago.

“i’ve changed.” he admits.

“good for you pedro. there are plenty of other people in the sea that you could go after. unfortunately for you i’m not one of them. so please be professional and leave me alone. i have to see gavi in an hour so i have to get ready for that.” you urge him to leave.

“please, gavi isn’t even in need of physical therapy he just thinks you’re cute.” pedri laughs.

“like you? at least he’s professional and doesn’t throw soup all over me when i approach him for lunch.” you give him a smile.

pedri steps back realizing how much of a bad person he had been to you. he couldn’t even remember all the things you were accusing him of. he suddenly feels bad for that night at the beach where he had humiliated you in front of everyone just because he thought you were too good for xabi. when in reality he was perfect for you.

“look i’m really sorry for what i did to you. for all of it. i’m not the same person i was at the beach four years ago. and you don’t owe me anything but i’d really like to take you out to dinner and make it up to you.” he begs.

“pedri, you constantly made me feel insecure about myself, humiliated me, made me wear a bob cut so short i might as well have gone bald, and bullied me for my whole childhood so a simple i’m sorry isn’t going to cut it. now, get out of my office please.” you point towards the door.

pedri simply sighs in defeat before making his way out of your office. but he doesn’t give up because as soon as your sessions with him start you’re met with flowers on your desk, links to random memes he finds on the internet, and invitations to all the fancy and expensive restaurants in the vicinity. although what finally makes you give in are the coldplay tickets he offers you.

“what the fuck, pedri?” you jump up at the envelope on your desk. “i can’t possibly accept these? they’re like the best seats as well? oh my god.”

“yes, you can and you will. my recovering process is going much faster than expected because of you and you always mentioned how much you loved the band growing up. please take them.” he urges you.

you don’t know what comes over but you’re suddenly that little girl trying to cross the street and you grab him by the cheeks. you kiss him without a second thought but this time he kisses you back. it’s a short but meaningful kiss.

“i should buy you coldplay tickets more often, huh?” he teases you.

“oh, shut up.” you blush.

he slowly creeps up next to you and wraps his arms around you before removing a strand of hair from your ear.

“in five years when we get married i’ll tell our guests about this.” he whispers into your ears.

a sudden rush of heat is felt near your cheeks and you can’t believe that six year old girl inside of you has won. you stare in awe at the midfielder, not the one you hate and despise but the one you’ve learned to love. the one who will cherish you for the rest of his life. he kisses you with so much fervor and passion you forget to breathe. his hatred for you the hatred that had never existed is now replaced by adoration and love. and you smile once again at the thought of telling this lifelong story to your wedding guests.

[drdemonprince]

Is "safe sex" even real? Never done it so idk but you mentioned risk profiles once. I feel like demographically I've got a higher risk profile and the anxiety about that really prevents me from going and trying anything. Do you think that's overly anxious in a negative way?

"safe sex" is a really misleading and binary term. There is never any guarantee of safety in anything we do. Every choice we make comes with risks. Hell, choosing not to connect with other people sexually (if you have any desire to) does ITSELF come with its own risks and costs over time.

The chase after perfect, guranteed safety will only lead to us feeling powerless and afraid, because it is an impossibility. All that we can do is inform ourselves of the risks, mitigate the risks we are the most concerned about and that affect others, and then knowingly accept what risks we still face as the cost of leading a full, enjoyable life.

When we inform ourselves about risk mitigation, we learn there are certain steps that we should probably take to protect ourselves and others if we are engaging in behavior that carries risk. If you're having sex with a complete stranger, it's probably smart to use a condom. If you have sex regularly you might want an HPV vaccine or to be on PreP to prevent HIV transmission. When you meet up with people you should get tested for COVID. You should get vaccinated against COVID. If you want to get suspended in rope from the ceiling don't use a hardware store $3 carabeener, get the good shit from the rock-climbing supply store. Things like that.

But even if you use a condom, you might get herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. Even if you never have sex, you might already have herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. I've had several of those things, including some of the "scarier" sounding ones, and they're really not that big a deal. They're just a thing that happens in life. Most people have them. You pop a Valtrex when you have symptoms, you shove a suppostiory up your vulva when it itches, you sleep without underwear on, you communicate with partners, you move on with your life.

Sure, I do what I can to avoid the risks I am most concerned about. I take PreP right now because not getting HIV would be preferable to me. But I could still live if I got it. I am informed about the realities of living with HIV today, which makes that fear more manageable. It is easier for me to make carefully considered and yet realistic decisions surrounding my risk profile because I can confront the realities that scare me and learn more about them.

The body is not separable form its environment. We are connected to our surroundings and the people around us, and our bodies get sick, catch viruses, grow old, get messy, and die inevitably and return to the earth. With our one life, we each have to choose what is most important to us and what potential costs we can stand. But with each year that passes, a cost to our bodies is already incurred, and there's nothing we can do to prevent aging and death from coming our way.

So what would you like to do while you are around? Would you like to have sex with condoms? Go on PreP? Get the HPV vaccine? Take random loads in a glory hole? Make out and dry hump with a cutie at a party and catch her cold sore? Cross the street in the dark after looking both ways? Go out dancing so late that your sleep is disrupted for the whole week? Get your heart broken? Have a great all-consuming love? Have children? Endure a torn labia while giving birth? Try psychedelics? Go on a swinger's cruise? Get a UTI from spermicide? Roleplay online instead of meeting in person? Fuck people with a strap-on?

The choice is yours. And no choice you make will be perfect or come without risk. No life is safe. Accepting loss is one of the necessary tasks of leading a life. But you can educate yourself, reflect on what you most want out of life and what you fear, and then take steps to demystefy your worst fears and mitigate the risks that loom largest to you and the people you care about.

Whatever you decide, I hope you have some fun.

[charlosvibesonly]

Racing Hearts

pairing : max x fem! reader/driver

they both race for Red Bull and aren't on the best of terms. at a team party, things get a little out of control

please lmk if you want a part 2 to this.

The night in Monaco was a chaotic symphony of celebration, champagne flutes clinking, and the low hum of laughter filling the penthouse. The room was awash with the soft glow of city lights, casting a seductive aura over the glamorous crowd. You stood on one side of the room, Max Verstappen on the other, the rivalry between you crackling like electricity in the air.

The Red Bull Racing team had always been a cauldron of competition, and both you and Max were at the forefront of the intense battles on the track. Racing under the same banner fueled the fire of rivalry, with the media always ready to paint the narrative of two fierce competitors fighting not only for the team but for personal glory.

Max, dressed in a sleek black ensemble, sauntered over with a sly grin. "Well, look who decided to join the celebration. Ready for a change of pace, or are you still dwelling on the track?"

Your eyes met a silent challenge passing between you. "I'm always up for a challenge, Max. But let's make sure this one's a fair race," you shot back, the edge in your voice matching the intensity in your gaze.

The night unfolded, a dance of bodies and glances, the music acting as a backdrop to the unspoken tension. Max, never one to back down, pulled you into the crowd on the dance floor. The beat of the music pulsed through your veins as you moved in rhythm, each step a subtle play in the ongoing game.

As the night progressed, Max's voice found its way to your ear over the music. "You know, we're not so different, you and I. Maybe this rivalry is just a cover for something else." His words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation wrapped in one.

You shot him a skeptical look. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Max. We're here for a good time, not a therapy session." But beneath the dismissive tone, a flicker of something else lingered.

The crowd was going wild, and things were getting interesting. The rivalry had been fueled by the competition on the track, but as the night went on, it was getting harder to tell the difference between competition and something more exciting. Max, always the one to push the boundaries, leaned in and said, "You can deny it all you want, but I know there's more to this than meets the eye."

With a scoff, you replied, "You're delusional if you think there's anything more to us than racing." Yet, even as the words left your lips, the charged atmosphere spoke a different language.

Max's gaze held yours, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you were entering. "Let's drop the act, just for tonight," he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers down your spine.

As he closed the distance, time seemed to slow. The cacophony of the party retreated into the background, leaving only the symphony of your racing heartbeats. Max's lips met yours in a kiss that tasted of rivalry and a yearning you both dared not admit. The kiss held a tension, a push and pull that mirrored the battles on the racetrack. There was a rawness to it, as if every unspoken emotion, every unfulfilled desire, found expression in the meeting of your lips. As you pulled away, the intensity lingered, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions in the night air. Max's gaze held a lingering hunger, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you were entering. 

The kiss was a statement, a testament to the unspoken connection that had woven itself between you two. But as the night ended, reality set in. The Monaco night had been an intoxicating interlude, but the racetrack awaited, and the rivalry would resume.

Days later, the roar of engines filled the air as you and Max prepared for the next race. The tension between you was palpable, a silent understanding that the Monaco night was a chapter suspended in time.

The race unfolded with a familiar intensity, each turn and straight echoing the unspoken competition between you and Max. Wheel to wheel, the competition reached a climax, the crowd watching with bated breath.

However, as the race neared its end, Max executed a daring move, squeezing in too close and forcing you to drop back. The frustration bubbled within you as you climbed out of the car, ready to confront Max.

He stood there, hair messy and sweat glistening on his forehead. Ready with your accusations, you walked towards him. But he caught you off guard, pulling you into a passionate kiss in front of the entire crowd. The cheers and gasps of the spectators became a symphony to your racing hearts.

As Max breaks the kiss, he looks into your eyes with a mischievous glint.

"Two wins for me today" he whispered in your ear.

With a playful wink, he walked away, leaving you in a mix of surprise and amusement.

In the post-race interview, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the journalists couldn't resist probing into the heated moment shared between you and Max. Max, always quick-witted, handled the questions with his signature charm.

Reporter: "Max, there was quite a stir after the Monaco Grand Prix party. Can you shed some light on the unexpected kiss with your fellow Red Bull driver?"

Max, smirking: "Well, you know, Monaco is known for its surprises, on and off the track. Sometimes you just have to take a detour from the usual victory celebration."

Laughter rippled through the pressroom, and Max's response earned a round of applause from some amused journalists. Meanwhile, you found yourself caught in the spotlight, blushing furiously at Max's clever deflection.

Another reporter chimed in: "Monaco magic, indeed. So, Y/N, if you had the chance, would you recreate that magical moment with Max?"

You felt the weight of their gaze, and for a moment, you hesitated. The room hung in anticipation, and you could almost hear Max and Lando suppressing their laughter. You attempted to dodge the question with a coy smile, "Well, you know, Monaco is known for its surprises. Can't predict what might happen next."

The interviewer pressed on, "But would you be up for it? A little rivalry romance on the track?"

You glanced at Max and Lando, who were now grinning like Cheshire cats, and let out an awkward chuckle, "I mean, who knows? It's a fast-paced world out there. Anything can happen."

Max leaned into the microphone, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

Lando chimed in with a playful smirk, "Monaco magic strikes when you least expect it, right, Y/N?"

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and with a nervous laugh, you diverted the conversation, "Let's move on to another question, shall we?" The room erupted in laughter.

After the interview wrapped up, Max pulled you away from the lively press room to a secluded, dimly lit room. He pushed you against the wall, sending a shiver through your body.

"So, Y/N, how about letting me win next time?" Max's words, warm against your ear, sent a rush of heat through you.

"In your dreams," you retorted.

Max's grin broadened, "This is going to be so much fun." Without hesitation, he pulled you into a kiss that defied the confines of the shadowy room. It was a fiery blend of rivalry, desire, and an energy that left you breathless.

In the dimly lit room, Max's lips claimed yours with an intensity that ignited a fiery passion within. Each kiss felt like a dance of flames, sending your senses into a delightful frenzy. Max's hands, dominant and purposeful, traced the curves of your back, their touch urging you deeper into the heart of the moment.

When the kiss finally broke, Max locked eyes with you, a mischievous glint shining. "Looks like the rivalry just got a whole lot more interesting."

[benedictscanvas]

i came across “i saved you a seat” and immediately fell in love with your writing 🥹🥹

could i request a jamie tartt x fem!reader where they both like each other but they’re both too scared to act on it so they’re kinda snappy to each other? and then angry love confession 🥹🥹🥹

only if you have the time!! love your writing so much <3

thank you my lovely, lovely anon <3 i loved the idea of this so much, but i'm not super happy with it, i think because i often struggle to write enemies to lovers in a oneshot without feeling unrealistic?? i hope you still like it and are happy to suspend some reality with me haha | 2.4k words!! tw language

"Tartt!' you bellowed across the dressing room, enjoying the way most of the team jump at your sudden commotion. The man himself just turned his head to you nonchalantly, and it only fuelled your fire, "Your fucking car is blocking me in."

"Right," he said, prolonging the sound, "And y' telling me because...?"

"Just move it, dickhead," you sighed, still in the doorway, "It's a bloody eyesore and all."

"She is a classic. And classy. Two things you wouldn't know anythin' about."

You snorted at that one, but refused to take the bait, flipping him off as you marched out of there and back the way you came towards the car park. Jamie was sure to make you wait but he would move it eventually. He wasn't a total monster.

Actually, everything would have been easier if he was a total monster, like he used to be. Now he was nice to everyone and smiled all the time and had way better hair - but he still couldn't bring himself to change his attitude towards you. Always at your throat.

You stood waiting for him, head buried in your arms that rested on your car. Eventually, you heard footsteps, but you didn't bother to raise your head.

"Where'd y' expect me to move it? No spaces, love."

"Just out of the way," you groaned into your forearms, "God, Jamie, I need to get home, would y' just do it?"

"No need to get funny 'bout it," he said and you lifted your head to glare at him to find him smirking, "What're you so desperate to be home for anyway?"

"Fuck off, Jamie," you said, staring out at the pitch behind him, "What is your problem?"

"My problem?" he said incredulously, taking a step towards you to force you to look at him, "I asked about what you were up to, Y/N, what the fuck?"

"I just don't need this right now, Jamie."

"Don't need what?"

"You!" you exclaim, pushing yourself away from your car and even closer to him, "Prancing about being a total dick to me and positively lovely to everyone else. I haven't got any fucking patience left for it, I need to get home because I just got a call that my entire kitchen is flooded, if you must know."

He just stared at you. Unflinching. You sighed, defeated, no venom left in your tone.

"Just move the car, Jamie. Please."

“Yeah, fuck, okay,” he said, voice small, “I’ll move it, alright?”

You went back to your previous position, arms on the car, this time with your head in your hands. It really shouldn’t bother you this much, but you decided to blame it on your shitty day rather than Jamie himself or the way you found yourself looking at him sometimes. The way you wished he’d just be nice to you, even for a moment. You weren’t an idiot - you knew that you’d never been nice to him, that he had no reason to change. It was just too terrifying - the idea of trying to be nice and him deciding he hated you anyway. Or that maybe he was never the prick and it had been you all along. All of it was too much.

A soft hand on your shoulder brings you out of your head, and you see Jamie standing sheepishly in front of you. You stared at his hand for a moment, but he’s quick to remove it. When you check, his car is categorically not out of your way - he’s moved it so that it’s blocking the exit instead. You felt the horrible sting of tears welling up and ducked your head to hide them.

“What have I done to you?” you ask miserably and his brow furrows before he realises what you’re talking about.

“No, fuck, no,” he mutters, leaning his head back to sky in frustration, “I’m not- Look, let me drive you home. You’ll need someone else there if your kitchen is flooded.”

So that was why he hadn’t moved his car properly - it was ready to go. He was ready to go, keys still in his hand, despite the fact he hadn’t got his bag or anything. One of the pesky tears fell and you brushed the traitor away with harsh fingertips.

“You’re in no state to drive, yeah? I won’t even talk the whole way, just let me-”

He trails off. You’re tired to the bones. It would probably take more effort at this point to convince him not to come with you, so although you can’t work out his angle, you nod your head and start walking over to his car, only stopping when he bounds ahead of you to open the passenger door for you. You furrow your brow at him, but climb in nonetheless and the two of you are speeding off into the setting sun before you know it.

The quiet bothers you. He said he wouldn’t speak, and he was sticking to it, but you were desperate to fill the awful silence.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, hating the way your voice sounds with the lump still in your throat, “You hate me.”

Jamie laughed then, but it wasn’t the same sound that echoed through the corridors at Richmond from the dressing room. It was much harsher than that.

“Y’ mean, you hate me,” he argued, “That’s how we work, ain’t it? You hate me so I get under y’ skin for fun and then y’ hate me more.”

You stared at the side of his face, even though his gaze didn’t falter from the road ahead.

“You…don’t hate me?”

“Trust me, you’re fuckin’ annoying as shit sometimes. And I’ve tried. But no. Can’t seem to.”

Can’t seem to? That was such a weird way to put it. You shook your head as you returned your own eyes to the road.

“You’re such a dickhead to me, Jamie,” you murmured, hands rigid in your lap, “I know you used to be a dickhead to everyone including me, but now you’re nice to everyone except me. It’s shitty.”

“Yeah, cause you’re shitty!” he exclaimed, slapping a hand against the steering wheel in frustration, “I get that I used to be awful, fuckin’ hell, but it’s like y’ remind me everyday. Like I can’t escape it with you.”

“I was willing to give you a chance when you came back…”

“No, y’ fuckin’ weren’t. Nobody was. And it took ages, but I won ‘em all over except you.”

You stayed quiet for a few seconds. You hadn’t been ready to give him a chance at first, he was right, but it had been months since Jamie came back. You wondered if it had always been a chicken and egg situation - both of you rude to the other for no other reason than the other’s rudeness. Than the fear of trying kindness and having it rejected outright.

“I couldn’t be nice to you when you came back,” you eventually speak up, picking at your nails and staring down at them intently, “What if I was nice and you were still a prize prick? It was fucking scary. I don’t like getting hurt.”

He scoffed, and you felt some of your vulnerability coming back to bite you already.

“Y’ don’t like getting hurt? But you had no problem hurting me every fuckin’ day, huh?”

He was practically snarling by the end of your sentence. You felt sick. This is exactly what you’d been afraid of - show a little vulnerability at how you struggled with the new him, and have it thrown back in your face. The walls were rebuilding themselves as you spoke.

“Why the fuck would my shitty little comments hurt you, Jamie? Thought y’ didn’t give a single shit what I think of you.”

“Well, maybe I fuckin’ do!”

“Do what?” you said, volume rising along with his.

He groaned, a strangled sound, as he pulled the car over at the nearest kerb a little too quickly for your liking. You reached out to the door handle to steady yourself, glaring at him when you came to a stop and he turned the engine off.

“I’m not doin’ this now. I said I’d take you home without talkin’ so let’s just do that, yeah?” he said, seething. There was no way that was happening now.

“No. You tell me what you mean so we can finally settle this.”

Another strangled groan, this time accompanied by him bashing his head into the steering wheel and then leaving it there, muttering to himself. You continued to glare at him until he finally turned his head to look at you, temple still against his hands.

“Fine. Fuckin’ fine,” he said angrily, leaning back in his chair and making proper eye contact with you for the first time since you’d entered his car. You could feel your heart thrumming in your chest, in your ears, “You’ve always been so fuckin’ headstrong, and you don’t take shit, and you’re nice to everyone but me-”

“Yeah, because -”

“Just listen for a minute, would ya?” he scowled and you shut up despite yourself, “Look, I don’t need to tell ya that you’re fuckin’ fit. You just are. Always had a thing for you, back in the day, but it was jus’ physical, yeah? Cause you’d shout at me and look all hot doin’ it. Now I’ve been back for like, what, three months? An’ it’s like a full blown fuckin’ crush or something. I hate it. I see you being all kind and shit to someone and then I come along and you say somethin’ all snarky and I just-”

You were hanging on his every word. When he hesitated, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You just what?” you said softly, leaning closer to the center console without even meaning to. He sighs, but that same frustration seems to have dissipated during his speech, and now he can’t look at you again, instead fiddling with a loose thread on his shorts.

“I just go all weak. In me knees, and that. It’s so stupid.”

You know your eyes must be comically wide right now, breath coming out in silly little pants.

“You have a crush on me? You snap at me because…you like me?”

“God, don’t say it like that,” he moans, dramatically banging his head against the steering wheel again to hide his face, and his blush, you can safely assume, “How embarrassing is it to have a crush on a girl who hates my guts?”

“Ugh, are you really going to be so self-deprecating that you’re going make me say it?” you whined, watching when he peeks out from the steering wheel at you with one eye, “Fine. But if this is all some joke and you’re horrible after this I’m getting out of the car.”

He nods eagerly, sitting back up again. He’s such a puppy, you wonder how you’ve ever been anything but nice to him for a second.

“I used to have an awful thing for you,” you said quickly, closing your eyes when you see his whole face light up, “When you were a prick. You were awful and I still wanted to jump on you any given second. That really was embarrassing. So when you came back, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let myself like you because I knew then I’d end up…liking you. If you get what I mean.”

“You’re saying you snap at me because you like me too?”

“Liked, Jamie,” you corrected, wagging a stern finger, “And please keep in mind that I hadn’t been with anyone for a while and my judgement was poor.”

“Well yeah, if you liked me when I was terrible, like. But I don’t think your judgement would be that bad if y’ happened to like me now?”

It was the first time you’d ever heard his teasing, flirty tone turned on you. It was very difficult not to get flustered and though you tried, you could tell you were failing when you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“There’s a lot of bridges to cross before we get there,” you said, but there’s a smile hovering on your lips, “We need to learn how to be nice to each other without being scared we’ll end up ridiculed.”

He nodded again, dutifully. You get used to agreeing with him.

“How about we start by getting back to my house? This flood thing is real, y’know?”

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, turning the engine back on suddenly, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I genuinely forgot.”

You laugh a little as he pulls back out onto the road and continues driving, gratified when he chuckles too and its closer to the warmth you usually hear in his laugh. It’s never been because of you before.

"You are classy by the way. And a classic. Some of the insults I've used for ya have made no fuckin' sense. And I'm sorry."

It meant more to hear that than you could possibly tell him now. Maybe some other time, when a few more things were mended, you could tell him that his apology meant everything to you.

"I'm sorry, too. Really sorry, actually. I think we've both...god we've been so unfair to each other."

"We have, yeah."

"I quite like your car really."

He just smiles at that, warmth flowing from it as he looks over at you from his spot in the driver's seat to make sure you've seen it.

Soon, you found the car enveloped in a far more comfortable silence than before for a while, only interrupted when Jamie pulls up to your house after a few directions from you to get the right one. You sit in the car for a few moments, both waiting for the other to speak, until you decided to just go for it.

“If we can fix this stupid kitchen, maybe…” you felt yourself scared to offer, still worried about being turned down or rejected or made fun of, but you pushed the anxiety down into the pit of your stomach and continued, “Maybe you can stay. For a cuppa. We could, y'know, actually talk to each other? See how long this truce lasts?”

“Mhm, okay,” he said, but when you sneak a glance at him, he’s grinning like a madman, “Okay. Guess I could stay for a bit.”

“Just the one cup though, yeah?” you confirm, but you’re grinning too, and you hope he’s noticed.

“One cup. Wouldn’t dream of two.”

(but he stays for four, including one with breakfast the next morning, and somehow, the two of you are pretty damn nice to each other the whole time)

[afroditisworld]

Brooklyn baby

Late Eycte! Alex Turner x Singer!Reader

Warnings: smut, smoking, stoned sex? spanking, oral (female received), smut without plot, soft dom Alex, tits play and use of pet names (doll, luv, princess) if you are not into that please don't read it :))

word count: 3k

You and Lana were best friends. You were like sisters from different mothers. You grew up with each other, and it didn't turn out to be a surprise when you both decided to follow the same career. Both of you were talented women in the music business. You both followed each other every step of the way. You normally planned your tours together and attended each other's shows with every change. It was a mutual relationship based on support and admiration for one another's talents and successes. So when she met Miles Kane and Alex Turner, she also introduced them to you, and you instantly matched each other's energies. But, oh, you and Alex, you had an electric connection with your first conversation. You felt an indescribable spark every time you talked to him. Alex had his way of making you smile. His witty humour and charming personality captivated you from the start. With every word he spoke, you found yourself drawn closer to him and as time went on, your bond only grew stronger.

You and Alex were at your home studio, trying to get the perfect sound for one of your songs. It was one of those terrible days when you'd prefer to listen to one of your vinyl records than try to come up with new ideas. You were attempting to play a song on your keyboard, but nothing seemed to come together. You sighed as you turned to see Alex, who was lying on the floor with his back to the wall, doing the same thing with his electric guitar. "I'm going to play a record," you said, hoping it would bring some inspiration, and you walked towards the record player. "Do you mind?" you continued. "No, maybe I can strum a few chords while you listen and find something new," he replied mindlessly. You laughed at your current state as you picked a random record from the collection and gently placed it on the turntable. As the familiar crackle of the vinyl filled the room, you watched as his fingers effortlessly moved across the strings of his guitar, creating a melody that seemed to be perfectly in harmony with the song that was playing in the background. "Oh, I love this song," you whispered, and you started mumbling the song lyrics under your breath. "I didn't know that you liked Lou Reed," he commented, listening to your soft humming with a smile on his face. "Yeah, his music has always clicked with me," you replied, your voice barely audible over the music. "I've been listening to his songs for years; Lana teases me for that; she had written a song about it," you said with a smile.

When the record ended, the room was filled with silence. "Does it bother you?" Alex's voice brought you back to reality, showing you his lighter that was ready to light up his joint. You just shook your head in response.

You both had given up on finding some tunes for your song. Instead, you approached him and sat next to him. You were lying on the floor, your heads facing the ceiling, in silence. Then suddenly Alex placed the joint in your mouth, giving you a puff, and as the smoke filled your lungs, you closed your eyes. At that moment, a calming sense washed over you, as if the worries and stress of the outside world had been temporarily suspended and time stood still. With each exhale, the weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, allowing you to fully embrace the tranquillity of the moment. Alex's fingers were still on your lips, and you could feel the warmth of their touch spreading through your body. Slowly, you felt your mind drift away. Your body grew more and more hotter, yet the cool air in the atmosphere made you shiver. Alex forced you to look at him and his unexpected action made you freeze. You just stared at his beautiful eyes and waited for him to say anything.

“Fuck” he sighed with a smirk “You got some soft lips there” he continued your heart racing as you tried to process his unexpected compliment. You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “I'm always catching myself thinking if you could put them in good work for me,” he said and you were so surprised that you only blinked you could barely find words to respond. “Oh, don't act so surprised luv, I know that you wanted to, I can say from the way you look at me” he added again. It wasn't that you didn't want to but you really didn't know how to react. You never believed that Alex could be so forward. "Come here," he said, lifting himself up. You move closer to him without thinking, never breaking eye contact, and as you get closer to him you fall to your knees. Everything seemed to start dragging on a bit slower as the high settled into your mind and every touch made you shiver. "Oh, no, it's not about me tonight," he said, helping you stand up. You looked at him confused, and he kissed you passionately on your lips, catching you off guard. The intensity of the moment left you breathless, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this sudden display of affection. As he pulled away, a mischievous smile played on his lips, and he whispered, "Tonight, it's all about you." When the words left his mouth, he kissed you again, lifting you up and placing you on the nearest table. His hands roamed gently over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before. "Alex," a soft moan left your mouth. As his hands travelled all over your body. "What is it, doll? Tell me what you need," he asked. "I- I need…y-you" you moaned, so ashamed that you couldn't even look him in the face. You could feel your panties getting wetter and wetter with every minute passing. God, this weed was doing too much to you. "No need to tell it twice," he said, placing his hand on your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. The combination of his touch and the effects of the weed heightened your desire, leaving you craving more. A cry left your mouth as you kissed him back, and he bit your lip, causing a mixture of pleasure and pain to surge through your body. The room seemed to spin as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating mix. It was a moment of pure surrender, where nothing else mattered but the raw desire between you. You wrapped your leg around him as you quickly deepened the kiss. You gasped into Alex's mouth as you felt his hands touch up and down your back.

Without even realising it, your top and your bra were lying scattered in the studio while Alex's mouth took one of your nipples between his teeth and pulled hard, gazing up at you as you cried out of pleasure and pain. Your back was arching from the pleasure his mouth was giving you, and all this attention in your sweet spot was making you soak through the fabric of your undies. His hands were hugging your boobs perfectly as he was teasing you, alternating between gentle caresses and rough squeezes. The combination of his skilled mouth and expert touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fiery desire within you. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you surrendered to the intoxicating sensations, losing yourself to Alex, which left you breathless and yearning for more. "Al, p-please. You're teasing me so much." You pleaded with a desperate voice, your words laced with a mixture of need and anticipation. Alex's eyes met yours, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own desires and with a wet pop, he let go of your breasts. The waiting was maddening, every nerve in your body on edge as you watched him slowly remove his hand from your breast and lower it between your legs. He smirked, his fingers tracing teasing circles on your inner thigh, inching closer to where you craved his touch the most. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the fabric, sending a shock of electricity through your body. He lowered himself, and his hot breath was hitting your clothed pussy sending goosebumps all over your skin.

“Tell me what you need and I will give it to you," he whispered seductively. You could hardly find the words to respond, but the ache in your core fueled your determination. "I need your touch," you managed to utter, your voice trembling with tension. With that, he lifted your skirt and slid his fingers beneath your panties granting you the pleasure you craved, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you. "You're so wet for me," Alex said, thrusting two fingers into you. As your hands grabbed his hair, his thumb slid to circle your clit, fingers now steadily pumping into you. Your spine arched and your legs sought to close as he curled his fingers in the perfect position. He looked up at you, disappointingly shaking his head. “No, sweetheart come on, I know you can do better than that," he said wanting to continue pushing you to your limits. “Close your feet again and I'm going to stop,” he said, with a serious expression on his face.

With his jawline sharp, he placed his hands on your back as he pushed you to the edge of the table. You could feel the pressure building in your muscles and the passion surging through your veins. He helped you take your panties off, and he lowered himself between your legs. You gasped and rolled your eyes back as his tongue touched your clit. His hands gripped your thighs and held them open for him, so tightly that you swear it'll leave a mark on your skin. As he continued to lick and suck your pussy, his tongue touched you in all the right spots. With your hands pulling the back of his head, you pushed your hips into his mouth as he thrust the tip of his tongue into you. Alex groaned against you, and the pleasure reached all the way to your core.

He rubbed his thumb on your clit again, making you see stars. Your body trembled in pleasure as you cried out his name. He was looking at you and, he couldn't help but enjoy having such power over you.

“A-Alex, please” you whispered.

“Please what doll?” he asked teasing you.

“Ple-please, don't stop” You paused not being able to utter a phrase with his face between your legs.

“I'm gonna cum Al- please, d-don't stop” you continued as one of your hands gripped the table tightly.

Alex moaned as your orgasm landed on his tongue, the sweet taste lingering in his mouth as he sucked the juices. The heat of the moment overwhelmed both of you, leaving you breathless and craving for more. He pulled away, gently placing your shaking legs down. You looked into each other's eyes, knowing that this was only the beginning. You felt your juice running out of your thighs, and your mind was all over.

You only came back to reality when he helped you turn around and bent you over the table, ready to take you from behind. When your breasts touched the cold furniture, you gasped at the sensation.

“We are not done, luv,” he said with a playful grin. You weren't able to respond but you needed him, you wanted to feel him inside you, all the anticipation that your previous action gave you and the high feeling of the joint that you two smoked made you even more hornier, longing for his touch. Eager to feel him again you pushed your hips against him, causing friction as his bone teased your entrance, he then backed up and let a spank fall in your ass. It was so unfair, he was fully dressed when you were wearing nothing but a skirt that was barely covering anything because he turned it up.

The painful sense sent a rush of pleasure through your body, and a cry left your lips. You closed your legs, trying to get some relief. But again, that gave you another spank. “Please” you begged again, hoping for mercy. And then the sound of Alex unzipping his pants was like harmony in your ears. “Someone is getting needy” he whispered and when he pushed his member inside of you, burying himself fully, you both moaned. “Ugh- Al” you moaned as waves of euphoria washed over you. Your legs started shaking and you couldn't bear your own weight anymore. You were a mess. Your moans, his heavy breaths and the sound of your bare skin slapping together filled the room. You could feel his dick hitting against your tight walls with each hard thrust, it was like he was doing it on purpose. You tried to make him slow down by pushing him by his chest but your attempt failed as he grabbed your hands and placed them behind your back. “You wanted me to stop, luv,” he asked, mocking you. “N-No, just- just please…slow down” you cried out and bit your lips trying to hold yourself quiet. Another orgasm built up quickly inside of you, you were so sensitive and overwhelmed with pleasure that you could barely breathe. “What? Are you going to cum already” he said and spanked you again harder than before, making you whine even louder. You couldn't even respond to him you just nodded and murmured. “Use your words, babe, like a good girl you are” he groaned. He was getting closer too, your walls were tightening around him and made it very difficult for him to move and not to cum right there. “Yes. Please yes,” you screamed, and then you placed your hands where you need them the most and started playing with your clit. The pleasure intensified as you felt the waves of orgasm building within you.

But Alex still catch your action. “Such a dirty girl trying so hard to cum on my cock” he said. He knew he had some power over you and he wouldn't stop until he had made you completely submit to his desires. You couldn't think of anything else but how close you were to your relief. Your body started to shake as the pleasure rushed all over your body. Your mind went blank and you gave yourself to him completely. You were high, your body aching as you let go once more. Alex moan as your juices covered his cock. Your orgasm seemed to last forever. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, Alex continued to fuck you while you came and you couldn't do anything else but moaned in pleasure.

“ I- please cum inside me, I'm on the pill" you panted. And this was all Alex needed as he filled you up.

When he pulled himself out the mix of his warm release and your juice started running out of you in a sticky mess, you nearly sobbed, as he left you feeling exposed and empty.

“You did so good Y/N," he said helping you to stand up and face him, his eyes were filled with admiration and pride.

“I can't feel my feet,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Come on, princess,” he said as he lifted you in his arms. "How does a bath sound ?" he asked as he carried you towards the bathroom.

well, my boyfriend's in a band he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

[starcheols]

the 1 — choi seungcheol

⭑ it is said that no one ever forgets their first love, nor their first heartbreak. truer words have never been spoken as you leave the glamourous cities of europe to return to your small hometown, for the first time in seven years.

don't you think it would have been sweet, if it could have been me pairing :: smalltown!seungcheol x fashion designer!reader (gender neutral) genre :: nostalgia, gentle angst

warnings :: nothing major! just heartbreak i guess? mentions a glass of wine and a kiss. word count :: 1.4k

author's note :: i've never written a fan-fiction before so i'm marking this monumentous occasion with a slightly mediocre piece of writing that was floating around in my head for a week :)

links :: masterlist / ask to be added to the taglist!

The old bus station, with its peeling red paint and rugged masts, greeted you like an old friend as you took a step off the weathered vehicle, with its tires sagging next to the cracked curb. It seemed that autumn’s breath was whispering in the air, carrying a chill that nipped at you, prompting you to tug your cashmere coat tighter around yourself.

As you stood there, under the canopy of the station, the rhythmic plod of the primordial-era bus faded into the distance, and a familiar nostalgia settled over you like the autumn mist.

Your hometown had remained frozen in time, a canvas of memories painted against the backdrop of quaint architecture and cobblestone streets that echoed under the sharp clack of your heeled boots. 

As you rounded the corner of the bus station, the remainder of the small town, with its quaint buildings and centrepiece fountain, unfolded before you like a familiar tapestry of memories. 

And there, standing beneath the flickering street lights of the early morning, a broad-shouldered man stood with his back turned, the sun’s first tentative rays finding a home in his honey-blonde hair. And for that fleeting moment, you could have sworn you felt time suspend, the world tilting its axis beneath you, for it had been so long.

But then, reality asserted itself, like a gentle hand grounding you in the here and now. The features, upon closer inspection, were not those you had once known. The stranger's eyes, the curve of his jaw, all different from the one etched into the canvas of your memories.

You certainly could not resist the wave of relief that washed over you, and that sneaking adrenaline that had coiled within your chest slowly released its grip, leaving the heartache to dissipate along the morning dew beneath the frail sunlight.

Seven years since you had left this town, teary-eyed and clutching your suitcase, chasing dreams that led you across the world, to the capitals of Europe to pursue your degree and future. 

Milan, where you honed your craft, your fingers becoming extensions of your artistic vision. Paris, where the world of haute couture embraced you, and your name adorned the lips of those who appreciated the elegance of your designs. The bustle of fashion weeks, the allure of glamorous shows — it was a life you had dreamed of, a life you had made your own.

Yet, amidst the glittering lights of success, the echoes of that tearful departure still reverberated, often coming back to you after a stranger’s kiss or a glass of red perched on your dining table, up in the penthouses of Paris.

You remembered that fateful day, seven years ago to the date today, when the bus station had rather been a stage for a heartbreaking farewell. Seungcheol, your best friend with golden hair and big eyes that once held a world of shared secrets, stood before you.

Back then, you were just eighteen, brimming with dreams and aspirations. You had poured your heart out to Seungcheol, confessing a love that had blossomed within the cocoon of friendship. But his response, or rather the lack thereof, had cast a shadow over the farewell, dragging you over the edge to embarrassed silence and quiet tears. His eyes, ringed with long lashes that you longed to once press a soft kiss to, reflected not reciprocation, but a profound sadness and pity.

The bus had become your vessel of escape, your tears mingling with the rumble of the engine, as the vehicle pulled away from the same curb that you stepped out on today. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air — Choi Seungcheol, the person you had thought of when you tossed pennies into the fountain’s pool and the person you loved the most in the entire world, (and really, what was the world of one who had just turned eighteen?), did not share the same sentiments at all.

The bench under the gnarled oak tree offered a momentary respite, and you took a seat, your coat enveloping you like a cocoon against the autumn chill. As you waited for your parents, who had vowed to meet you for breakfast, you watched the leaves dance in the breeze, a kaleidoscope of reds and golds that mirrored the hues of memories embedded in this town.

The quiet peace of the surroundings enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the crisp air to wash over you. The distant hum of the town, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant echo of a church bell created a symphony that resonated with a serene melancholy. The town hadn't changed much, and neither had the comforting embrace of its quiet corners.

A voice, a familiar voice, and one that you knew only all too well, cut through the tranquil ambiance. Your eyes snapped open, and the world seemed to shift on its axis again. There, standing before you, was Seungcheol —no longer the silent boy you tearfully left behind but a man, his honey-blonde hair still curling around his ears. His gaze met yours, and the years seemed to melt away in that moment, and how you hated the leap of your heart and the shake of your hands.

And it seemed your traitorous heart, a tempest of conflicting emotions, of love and grief, ran cold and hot simultaneously. Seven years had sculpted the features of the boy who you had loved from your childhood into a refined allure, the lines of boyhood replaced by the contours of a man who had weathered time with grace.

"Hey," he greeted you, a warmth in his eyes that could have deceived you into forgetting silent tears, and his pitying gaze years ago. "I heard you were back in town. It's been forever!"

Your brightest smile, a mask that you could credit from having being forged from your years of navigating the high celebrity ends of the world, adorned your own face, as you accepted his open arms, pulling yourself into the scent of him.

The old familiarity threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart. How was it that he seemed genuinely excited to see you, to reconnect after all these years.

Seungcheol's infectious laughter filled the air, a melody that echoed through the town square, and one that you would have spent summers listening to on repeat, your arms intertwined. "I can't believe it, you know? I always knew you had that amazing potential, but seeing your name everywhere, in magazines and tabloids, isn’t that so cool? You've made it so big!"

The genuine admiration in his eyes was both heartwarming and disconcerting, for you. You could only nod, expressing gratitude for his kind words while trying to suppress the turbulent emotions churning beneath the surface. The town's quiet corners, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stage, each word and glance an act in the intricate dance of reunion.

And you won't believe who's behind me," Seungcheol continued, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "My wife's a huge fan of your work. She practically dragged me here to meet you."

As your eyes shifted to the figure approaching behind him, your breath caught. A woman, stunning with dark red hair, walked with two small children by her side. The bitterness, like a dormant ember, flickered within you, threatening to consume the facade of happiness you had meticulously crafted.

"Hey, look who's here!" Seungcheol called out to his wife, his voice brimming with excitement.

She turned, and for a moment, your eyes locked. A fleeting connection passed between you, a recognition of shared spaces in a world divided by time and choices. Her smile was warm, genuine, and you tried to match it with your own, though it felt brittle, a fragile façade that hid the tempest within.

Seungcheol introduced you, praising your work with an enthusiasm that only friends from the past could muster. The children, curious and full of innocent wonder, regarded you with wide eyes. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but wonder what could have been if, in that moment seven years ago, the trajectory of your lives had diverged in a different direction.

Seungcheol had moved on, creating a family, a chosen one. The pang of longing lingered, but you swallowed it down, resisting the temptation to wonder about alternate realities.

But we were something don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool. And if my wishes came true, it would have been you.

[otonymous]

Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description: 

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max.  Didn't happen.  Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above!  That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it.  All in all, a good time was had.  I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero.  Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three.  One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow!  Ouch!  Stop!  Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working.  Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place.  He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall.  Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath.  “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole.  Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it.  Clearly, I was wrong.  Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you.  I get it.  But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?!  I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax.  I’m moving.  Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?” 

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah.  Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up?  Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true.  Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue.  Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison.  Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver. 

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.  

You weren’t going to think about that.  And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast.  Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson.  Nightwing.  Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay?  Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something.  The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of).  And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation.  So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence?  The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night.  It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge.  What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do.  Except this time, he doesn’t.  This time, he says:

“This is dangerous.  Your suit is compromised.  We need to fix this.  Immediately.”

Different.  Darker.  Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room.  The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true? 

Was it really too good to be true?  And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you.  Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs.  You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties.  But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist.  Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There.  Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it.  The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much.  But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?” 

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that.  But it’s not good enough.  I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There.  Spread your legs.  Wider.  Yes, like that.  Try moving now.”

It was insanity.  

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall.  You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit.  And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working.  I think I need a push.  A thrust from behind.“

There.  The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this?  I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural.  You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream.  But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans.  Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet.  It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business.  But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck.  Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there.  Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”  

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall.  In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give.  Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed?  Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement.  You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes.  You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines.  For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson?  What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth.  “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing.  And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation.  Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips.  You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now.  Not a peep, understood?  Or else it’ll be an F for you.  And I know you don’t like to fail.  Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet?  Yes, that’s what I thought.  Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible.  You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood.  “God, I could fuck you all night.  All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty.  Apparently, sex was no exception.  It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right.  It felt incredible.  Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you.  Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you. 

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!!  Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end!  Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

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"Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson)" is copyright 2022 Otonymous, all rights reserved.

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)