#help I'm actively losing my mind

[supreme-leader-stoat]

"Hm, I've already established that this nation in my story has a lot of sunflowers as a background detail, I should take five minutes real quick to see what those can be used for."

🎶You can eat the stalks! You can eat the leaves! You can eat the petals! You can eat the seeds! You can eat the tubers! Turn 'em into booze! Go and plant some sunflowers! If you don't you lose! 🎶

[there-will-be-a-way]

Spent most of the day alone which means I got to experience Emotions™️ and Thoughts™️. Tried to cope with them by focusing on the present. Distracting myself with hobbies and a comfort game. I tried putting my feelings into art and writing. But it didn't help. Ended up getting the shakes and shits. So at midnight I built a joint out of leftover crumbs and stems I found in my box and empty baggies. Got me high enough to stop the shakes.

I've been telling my helper people that my coping techniques don't work anymore. I try. I do what I'm supposed to do but they make this feeling worse. And I don't even know what to name it. The closest I come to describing it is that it feels like someone inside me is scratching and hammering on the walls of my body. Like someone or something inside me tries to scream but the room inside my ribs is sound proof. It's a tension that's alive and crying until its throat is soar. Before smoking that sorry bit of weed I seriously considered overdoasing because I couldn't bear it. I would appreciate it if someone could tell me what to do with this feeling instead of numbing it with substances, but I only get told the skills that have grown to fail me 🙂 Even my therapist said that I have all the skills one could get teached. Why. Aren't they. Working anymore.

[aftermathing]

.

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 16 [x] Characters >> Matvey Dobrynin (oc), Nadya Dobrynina (oc), Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 8.1k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, arguing, blood, death, descriptions of drowning, gore, injuries, smoking (/+ relapse), transphobia (one implied instance of deadnaming in part 1, some instances of misgendering in part 3), violence

Vitali could not open his eyes.

He wanted to, of course he did; surrounded by screams and cries for help and gunfire and people running around, running right into him and shoving him aside but catching him before he could fall- yet he found himself unable to, eyelids heavy and eyelashes stuck to his skin with a dried up substance he had not yet been able to identify.

Every step he set forward hurt, painful jabs shooting up his spine to his neck; though a searing pain in his left forearm drew his attention more than anything else, warm liquid trickling down his skin and dripping on the floor from his fingertips.

He was dreaming.

He knew he was; he often did, yet remained unable to do anything about it or to control whatever was happening around him. Simply a passenger in his own body, though still more aware than he would sometimes be when fully awake- it almost felt like mockery, in a way.

Vitali reached for his face, bloodied fingers clawing at the dried up blood covering his face and keeping his eyes shut tight- nails tearing open skin and drawing even more of it, dark red tears heavy on his cheeks as they stained his pale visage.

The screaming surrounding him became louder, and louder- as well as the ringing in his right ear, drowning out the noises behind him and wrapping around him like a safe and warm blanket fresh out of a basket of dried laundry. Though it made him feel the exact opposite; and he kept scratching, and scratching, and scratching-

And he opened his eyes.

‘Vitali?’

The hallway was quiet and dark, the flashlight of Vitali’s phone only slightly illuminating the path in front of him toward his bedroom door- but his attention was fixed on the other end of the hallway, where his father stood motionless, cold eyes staring at him from behind his reading glasses.

‘Party lasted a little longer than I had thought,’ Vitali quietly said, almost as a reflex; an instinctive answer, as he watched Matvey slowly walk closer to him and Vitali expected him to reach out, pluck that half smoked cigarette out of his hair for him-

But instead his father grabbed his wrist and lifted it up and when Vitali looked down his arm was a deep crimson color, drenched in his own blood as his skin peeled away revealing bright red flesh and exposed bone.

He opened his mouth to scream but no sound left his throat as his vision faded, Matvey disappearing into nothing but his grip on Vitali’s wrist leaving a burning imprint on his skin. It felt like he was falling; tumbling backwards into the void of his own nightmare, heart pounding in his chest and breathing panicked and shallow while he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to wake up-

‘How dare you show your face here again!’

Nadya’s voice cut through the silence surrounding him and suddenly Vitali felt solid ground under his feet once more. He opened his eyes; found himself back in that poorly lit hallway in that Megabuilding, his mother standing right in front of him- shorter than him, far below his eye level, yet towering over him at the very same time.

‘You’re not welcome here anymore,’ she spat, adding a name to her statement; a name Vitali had not heard in a long time yet one that cut deeper than any knife could ever cut, one that hurt more than any pain he had ever had to endure in his entire life.

All the things he wanted to say to her; yet no words left his lips as he watched her turn around and walk back into her apartment- no, it was his childhood home now, the apartment on the pier of Wellsprings, right next to where he lived nowadays- and Ravager was there too, mangled, two dead eyes staring straight ahead and a gaping hole in his forehead, a grin far too wide to be natural decorating the lower half of his face-

Vitali’s body was locked in place. He could not even turn his head away or close his eyes when his mother fell into the corpse’s arms and kissed him and-

He was falling again.

He could hear rushing water around him; and before he could even finish that thought he fell into an ice cold river, the current instantly pulling him down by his legs and he could only just suck in a deep breath before his head was entirely submerged.

He was unable to tell what was up and what was down, his body being wildly flung around in the water and hitting rocks and pieces of wood and whatever else got in his way. He could barely see anything- only flashes of light and darkness spinning in circles around him, spots dancing in front of his eyes as the oxygen in his lungs steadily began to run out-

His arm got caught between something. But the stream did not stop dragging him along.

And before Vitali knew it his arm was no longer attached to his torso and the deep blue water around him colored red as he opened his mouth to scream, to cry out in pain yet the pain did not come- and instead his mouth filled with water and so did his windpipe and his lungs-

He knew what dying felt like.

Vitali bolted up, the cool air of his bedroom like tiny needles in his throat as he gasped for breath and instinctively moved his hand to his neck. His shaking fingertips collided with burning hot and sweaty skin; and even the lightest of pressure hurt, despite the time that had passed the dark bruising Ravager’s hands had left still fresh and painful with every touch.

Tears blurred his vision and he lowered his hand again, the initial pain in his neck now burning through his shoulder down to his forearm. Tightly wrapped in bandages; though the pressure was not enough to distract from the searing and stinging sensation the gaping wound had left him with.

He slowly moved closer to the edge of the bed, shaking hand reaching for the glass of water and bottle of painkillers on his nightstand. One, two- surely three wouldn’t kill him, just this once- quickly swallowed them all, washed them down with the lukewarm water from last night.

It was daytime. Vincent was no longer there in bed with him, and the curtains were already partially open. Though it did not do much; heavy rain and thunder plagued Night City, leaving Vitali’s bedroom mostly in the dark despite it already being close to noon.

His gaze lingered on the window as he sat in complete silence, hands resting on his lap as he tried to catch his breath- and with every second that passed, the pain in his body slowly faded away, until he was left with just the feeling of his own heartbeat in the place where his mantis blade used to be.

For a brief moment, he had truly believed he was going to die.

Again- His heart stopping like it had done before, but permanently this time- getting choked to death by Ravager with none of his friends there to save him, just like they had been unable to save him before.

Vitali’s hand subconsciously moved to his neck again, rolling thunder in the distance briefly drowning out the ringing in his ears. The swelling was mostly gone by then; though he still had trouble breathing, the inside of his throat raw and every inhale and exhale like a weight being pressed down onto his chest.

His father had saved him.

It made sense, in a way, Vitali supposed. Matvey had made it clear his intention was not to kill his son; he simply wanted to take everything from Vitali like he believed Vitali had done to him. And for that, he needed him alive.

Yet something about it did not feel right.

But Vitali was unable to put his finger on what.

He slowly rose to his feet, leaving his hearing aid on his nightstand and using the wall as support as he walked and slowly made his way to the hallway of his penthouse, and then the living room. Some lights were on- one in the kitchen, one above the coffee table- yet the room was empty, Mikhail at work to keep business going with Cato, and Vincent presumably in the bathroom.

Vitali was craving something.

He was hungry- yet not nearly hungry enough to walk into the kitchen and make himself some breakfast. His hands were restless; fingers fumbling as he tucked the edge of his t-shirt into his sweatpants, pulled it out again, and tucked it back in.

More distant thunder echoed through the dark skies of Night City as Vitali wandered over to the entrance of his penthouse’s balcony and he picked up his cigarette case and lighter from the cabinet beside it. He rarely smoked anymore; not as if it mattered at all, since the stuff inside was fake anyway.

Though lately he had reached for his case a lot more often than before, and the usual cravings- keeping his hands busy for a while, subconsciously regulating his breathing with the act- were not as easily satisfied as in the way they used to.

As if he was missing something now.

I won’t let it get to that.

A somewhat ironic thought, as Vitali opened the balcony door, flicked out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the tasteless smoke and exhaling through his nose. He had said the same about his alcohol intake at some point in time- and he had not been able to keep his word for that, either.

‘Thought I heard something.’

The corners of Vitali’s mouth curled up in a light smile upon hearing Vincent’s voice faintly behind him and he leaned sideways against the doorway, free hand instinctively reaching out- and Vincent took his hand in both his own, giving it a soft squeeze as he walked closer.

For many years, Vitali had been alone.

It had never done him any good; despite his longing for some solitude for most of his childhood, fed up with his family and wanting nothing more than to get away from them for good and to have a place he could call his own.

But once he had gotten exactly what he had wanted, those four decrepit walls of that poor excuse of an apartment in the Glen had been unable to keep him company throughout most of his early years as an adult. And when he had moved after finally making a comfortable living at Arasaka, the luxurious home he had found himself in had been about as empty as the gaping hole the absence of family and friends had left in his chest.

Vitali clenched his jaw as he took another drag from his cigarette, sharp exhale leaving his chest while Vincent leaned against him with a soft sigh, thumb gently running over the back of Vitali’s cold, lightly shaking hand.

Even the penthouse he lived in now had once been too big and too empty for just him alone. A busy day at his office followed by a quiet and lonely night, right next to the building he had grown up in; a balcony that overlooked the ocean, its vast deepness stretching as far as the eye could see.

Vitali had often stood there, where he stood now; smoking a cigarette, staring at the ocean and listening to the sounds of the city below, feeling the cool wind in his hair and on his skin. He would stand there and wonder- wonder what else was there for him, wonder if he could ever get the comfort he used to have when he’d been younger back.

And he had, eventually.

He had found it again with Vincent, and now he no longer slept alone- and with Mikhail living with them too it would only be on rare occasions he would find himself all by himself at home. Even if he was, he still had their cats Nibbles and Sapphire to keep him company, to make him feel at ease.

Though in that moment, even with Vincent’s arms loosely wrapped around his waist and his breath hot in his neck, Vitali was more on edge than he had been in a very long time.

‘Lot of static in the air today,’ Vincent suddenly hummed, pressing a soft kiss on Vitali’s shoulder. ‘Pretty high up- might wanna close the door.’

‘You’re right- sorry.’ A pang of shame tightened Vitali’s chest and he quickly extinguished the barely smoked cigarette, tossing it in the ashtray on the table of the balcony before stepping back inside and closing the door. ‘Did not think that through.’

‘No worries. Your head’s elsewhere, I understand.’

Vitali could barely look his boyfriend in the eyes as he turned toward him, allowing Vincent to gently brush some of his hair out of his face. It was a little damp, still- his feverish night had left him sweating, and he had not yet taken a moment to clean himself up.

He was bracing himself.

Tension lingered in the air around them though not merely because of the thunder clouds hanging over town; Vitali knew Vincent was holding something back, recognizing his little mannerisms and nervous tics and knowing exactly what would come next.

‘When are we going to talk about it?’

There it is.

Vitali closed his eyes and leaned in to Vincent’s touch, fingertips tingling on his skin as they dragged down his temple to his cheek. A situation all too familiar to him; a conversation between him and Mikhail at the very start of that year, a much needed talk yet neither of them had been ready for it in the slightest-

He couldn’t do it again.

‘There is not much to talk about,’ he promptly replied, opening his eyes again and straightening his back. He opened his mouth to say something else- perhaps to try and elaborate further, or to change the subject- yet no sound left his lips, words escaping him the second he noticed Vincent clenching his jaw and lightly shaking his head in response.

Vitali was not necessarily a conflict-avoidant man. Plenty of proof for it to be found in his past- and especially now as a fixer it was more than often a necessary means to an end, and he knew very well it was of no use to continue to try and squeeze around the elephant in the room.

Whenever things needed to be talked about, he was more than willing to talk about it; knowing exactly what would happen were things to be left unsaid, what would happen if he would let it all pile up and explode at the wrong place and time with the wrong person on the receiving end.

But Vitali was exhausted.

Just like he had been with Mikhail. They had never fought before, ever, in all their years of knowing each other- and it had not needed to turn into a fight yet it still had, and it still haunted Vitali to that very day.

‘Somethin’ needs to happen,’ Vincent quietly said, fingers fumbling with the collar of Vitali’s t-shirt, eyes staring straight ahead yet just past Vitali’s face. ‘I feel like we’re just stuck now. What are we waiting for?’

Oh, how Vitali wished Vincent would stop talking.

He didn’t even know the answer to the question. What was he waiting for? He couldn’t even recall how much time had passed exactly since the death of- hell, Vitali could not even remember the man’s name- and he had no idea what Matvey had been doing in the meantime, either.

‘He won’t come to his senses.’ Vincent briefly paused and bit his lower lip, lightly shaking his head again as he lowered his gaze. ‘You’ve given him time, Vito- every fuckin’ opportunity to take a step back, to stop doing this-’

‘He saved my life.’

The words had left Vitali’s lips before he could stop himself.

No turning back now- Vincent looked back up at him, a somewhat questioning look on his face, mouth still half open as he had stopped mid-sentence. Vitali clenched his jaw, heartbeat picking up in his chest as he shrugged and spoke again.

‘He spared me.’

‘Are you sure?’

That didn’t land well.

Vitali sharply inhaled through his nose and froze in place, heart dropping in his chest as Vincent’s words settled in his head.

His mind instantly wandered back to that day- as much as he had tried to push it all as far back as possible, as much as he had tried to ignore it- and the vivid memories of Matvey’s gun aimed at his head, of the weight of Ravager’s corpse on top of him, of the ringing in his ears from the gunshot that had echoed through the room when Matvey had pulled the trigger-

Yet suddenly Vitali was not sure anymore.

‘What?’

A coldness to his voice he could not stop from spilling from his lips as he spoke, as much as he tried to. And Vincent clearly noticed- nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he straightened his back a little bit and quickly pulled his hands away from Vitali’s clothes.

‘You were- I dunno, I just… You were bleeding out, and it could’ve easily been just-’

‘He was there, okay?’

‘Okay.’

Vitali knew.

His mind easily played tricks on him. And what Vincent said, made perfect sense to him.

Yet his words had sounded just a little too familiar to Vitali’s liking- unintentionally so, he assumed- similar to how his mother used to question everything Vitali would say to the point he would forget about entire situations that had happened only minutes ago merely because of Nadya's doubt.

He could already barely trust his own mind now that Arasaka had toyed with it. The last thing he needed was someone else making it worse.

‘I saw him,’ he finally spoke, a flash of lightning outside causing the lamp above the coffee table to briefly flicker. ‘He was- Please don’t- Don’t say things like that.’

‘Sorry.’

They could barely look at each other, now.

The storm had picked up outside, rain slamming itself into the windows of the penthouse and the wind howling almost loud enough for Vitali to be unable to hear what Vincent was saying.

They’d had their disagreements before. Vincent was bold enough to speak up if he believed something had to be said- about anything, from their personal lives to everything related to their respective jobs. Both of them a little stubborn, both of them a little prideful- but both of them also mature enough to own up for their mistakes, and realize when they were in the wrong.

This was different.

‘Look,’ Vincent suddenly started again, a bit more volume to his voice now that it was no longer as quiet in the room as before. ‘All I’m sayin’ is that the longer we let him and his mercs run free-’

‘That is the whole point,’ Vitali cut him off- gently, or, at least, as gentle as he could. ‘His mercenaries are all still there. They might work for him, but they’re out for my blood either way because they feel like I betrayed them! What’s the point of killing him specifically right now?’

He was grasping at straws, mostly. Trying to buy himself some time- trying to come up with a better answer for Vincent that would be satisfying enough so they could move on from it, at least for the time being. They could continue the conversation at a later point in time, come up with a plan when Vitali no longer felt like someone was hammering his brain black and blue-

But he knew the more he spoke, the further he would dig his own grave.

‘We’ll deal with ‘em in time,’ Vincent responded, and he now took a slight step to the side to be able to catch Vitali’s gaze again.

‘Look- I know this is difficult for you, but your father is the root of the problem. We’ve established this- he’s not showing any change- and I think we’ve waited long enough now.’

‘Why not just deal with mercs, then?’ Vitali fired back.

‘We’ve been doing that! There’s so many of them and he keeps sending more.’ Vincent licked his lips and vaguely gestured outside. ‘Your father has resources, Vito! He’s got connections, he’s got corporations in his pocket- We kill his mercs, how long before he’s got a bunch of new gonkheads workin’ for him?’

‘So we take his resources away. Cut his contacts, let him-’

‘Oh, the same thing he’s doing to you right now? The same thing he’s currently failing so fantastically at? That’s your suggestion?’

‘What else do you want me to fucking say?’

Vitali’s heart was beating high in his chest and he was starting to become light-headed. He watched as Vincent scoffed and took a few steps away from him, shrugging again and throwing his hands up in exasperation.

And Vitali understood. He knew what it looked like from anyone else’s perspective- why the fuck was he even protecting his father, after everything that had happened?

But he couldn’t do it.

He hadn’t been able to, even when he’d had the chance.

‘So much fucking time has passed by now,’ Vincent said, his voice low and his eyes unfocused, and filled with tears. ‘So much fucking time- and nothing’s changed!’

‘He isn’t out to kill me-’ Vitali started, Vincent was not done.

‘He’s not-? Not yet, no! And everyone else is expendable to him!’ He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and wildly gestured around the room. ‘How long before he’s gonna kill someone else-’

‘We are not going to kill my father and that’s an order!’

Vitali’s voice echoed through the room, like thunder booming through the desolate streets of the city down below. It startled him a little- and it startled Vincent as well, his shoulders tensing up and a shaky exhale leaving his lips the second it happened.

Silence washed over the penthouse as the rain outside settled down, sky slowly clearing up and a single ray of sunlight brightly illuminating the space between the two men near the balcony door. Realization hit the both of them at once; and while Vitali’s chest tightened and a knot took shape in his throat, Vincent simply relaxed, dropping his arms past his body as another scoff left his mouth.

‘Right.’ He stepped back, visibly biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes wandered off into the rest of the living room and he did a mocking salute in Vitali’s direction. ‘Yessir.’

‘Vincent-’ Vitali pleaded, stepping forward and-

‘V, please.’

The sharp edge to his words cut deep into Vitali’s skin and he closed his eyes, heart shattering into a million pieces and for a second- just for a brief second- he wondered if he was still asleep, still trapped in that feverish nightmare, still trying desperately to wake up-

But when he opened his eyes he was still in the same position as before and Vincent still could not look at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek when he spoke again.

‘Just V.’

You did this to yourself, Vitali.

Unable to just keep his stubborn mouth shut, unable to ask if they could talk about it some other time. Wanting things to be resolved immediately- and making it worse with every word he said instead, unintentional perhaps, but it was far too late to try and take anything back now.

Vitali stood in complete silence as he watched V wander away from him further until he reached the stairs and dropped himself down on top of the second-to-last step, elbows resting on his knees and hands in his hair.

He had not meant to say the things he’d said- well, mainly the last words that had left his lips. Out of character, even for him as a fixer; Vitali had never been one to mindlessly order people around, even back at Arasaka it had set him apart from his colleagues.

God, why had he said that?

Vitali’s hands were fumbling with his t-shirt again, restless as they had been when he had entered the room. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and leaned back against the window, gaze fixed on the ceiling high above his head, jaw clenched and attention focused on anything but V’s unstable breathing.

Tell him you’re sorry. Fucking say something- anything.

‘I couldn’t do it,’ Vitali suddenly heard himself say.

He blinked a few times, a desperate attempt to drag himself back to reality, to get himself back into his body- and when he did, V’s attention was on him again, though he did not move from his position on the stairs nor could he hold Vitali’s gaze.

‘I had him,’ he continued, and slowly pushed himself away from the window again as he made a pistol with his fingers and held it out in front of him, closing one eye as he pretended to fire it at the wall.

‘I had him, V. Lined up in my sights. His gun was not aimed at either of us- I could have pulled the trigger. It would’ve been done.’

A wry smile spread on Vitali’s face and he lowered his hand again, the smile fading as the knot in his stomach tightened and the memories flooded back into his brain.

‘I just couldn’t do it.’

Something had stopped him. Memories- of another lifetime, it had felt like- memories of himself and Matvey in that dark hallway of their home, just the two of them and nobody else. It had happened so many times; and not a single time had he been angry with Vitali.

It had always bothered him a little bit. Something about those moments was different.

But Vitali was unable to put his finger on what.

‘I don’t care what you think of me, or what anyone else thinks,’ he finally continued, straightening his back and running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. ‘I don’t care what you would have done in my situation- I cannot kill my father and I will not let any of you do it either.’

It wouldn’t solve anything.

Neither would doing nothing- and he knew that. He knew that very well.

But deep within, at his core, Vitali Dobrynin was not a killer, and he did not have it in him to be responsible for the end of his father’s life.

Vitali slowly turned away to look outside, the sky clear now that the storm had passed. It felt wrong, somehow; the bright sun a stark contrast to the uneasy feeling that had settled deep within his chest and stomach and caused the hairs on his arms to stand up straight. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see the threatening clouds in the distance, moving over Pacifica toward the Badlands.

‘I’m sorry, V,’ he quietly said, his gaze finding the merc’s reflection in the window. ‘I know this is not what you want to hear. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to let it get to this. I’m sorry.’

His apology wouldn’t set it right, nor would it change anything. But he meant it.

He meant it so deeply.

Vitali watched in complete silence as V finally moved- slowly rose to his feet and sucked in a deep breath, adjusted his clothes a bit- then walked a little closer to him, though hesitantly, and he stopped a lot earlier than Vitali wanted him to.

‘I’m sorry, too,’ he quietly said while Vitali turned around to face him again, and he crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. ‘It’s just- becoming a bit too much, I think.’

Months had gone by.

Months of uncertainty, months of fear; they’d had their moments of peace, but Matvey’s presence had continued to loom over them every passing day, casting a dark shadow over Vitali- and over everyone who got too close to him.

Of course he understood V’s frustration. Of course he understood his mercenaries were starting to doubt him, and of course he understood why the Council no longer trusted him either.

And perhaps if he had been just a little bit less in control of himself- if he had been just a little less certain of who he was, and what he believed in-

Perhaps he would have already given up by then.

After all, it did make sense to him. Arasaka had toyed with his mind- he could’ve easily made his father up. Could’ve easily done it all himself, in his convenient absence each and every time tragedy would strike.

It would have been a genius plan, Vitali had to admit- well within his capabilities too, he could have pulled it off.

But that was not who he was. He would never do something like that.

Vitali clenched his jaw and took a hesitant step in V’s direction, reaching out a hand with a questioning look on his face; but V merely held his arms tightly crossed and averted his gaze in response.

‘Had it been anyone else-’ Vitali quietly said, lowering his arm and letting it dangle past his side.

‘I know,’ V quickly replied, ‘I know. It’s your father.’

Family was complicated.

All of them had hesitated, in a way- Daniil reconsidering Vitali’s cry for help, Roksana giving in to his request to stay out of it, Nadya tiptoeing around the inevitable conversation that had been about to ensue- but at the end of all things they had not chosen Vitali.

Daniil had left to be with his own family- his wife, a child on the way- and Roksana had left to be alone, away from all of them to build something up herself. And Nadya had stayed; but not for Vitali, and not for Matvey, but for Ravager of all people, and now with the cyborg dead and rotting in some NCPD morgue Vitali did not know what his mother would do.

But Matvey was different. Somehow.

He had killed Ravager. Had saved Vitali’s life. Had chosen to do so- and Vitali was unable to let it go.

‘Cato and Misha are trying to find his base of operations,’ he said, visibly startling V by accident with the sudden sound of his voice. ‘Once we find it, we take down his mercs, take his resources. And maybe-’

Vitali couldn’t finish his sentence.

‘I don’t know,’ he cut himself off, pushing the thought of pulling the trigger on his father out of his head. ‘I suppose I’m still hoping for something to happen.’

‘Guess only time will tell.’

Silence fell over the room and V finally relaxed, exhaustion washing over his figure as he bit the inside of his cheek again and looked at anything except for Vitali. And Vitali could not stop himself from trying again, reaching out a hesitant hand in hopes V would-

‘I- I need some space,’ V quietly said. ‘I’ll be in Misha’s room for a bit.’

Vitali found himself frozen in position, hand still mid-air and heart still racing in his chest. His initial reaction was a familiar one- it’s not fucking fair- but he doubted that was true, and wisely kept his mouth shut.

He and V had never once argued like they’d had just now, in the entire year they had been together- or since they had met, for that matter. And just like with Mikhail it did not feel right to stand there, in the very same room yet somehow with so much distance between them, the air around them still static and tense as if any other spoken word would cause another thunderstorm to roll in.

Vitali watched as V glanced in his direction then turned on his heels, hurried pace through the living room and back into the hallway leading to the bathroom and bedrooms.

‘I’m sorry,’ he quickly said, before V could vanish behind the wall. He stopped in his tracks, and visibly hesitated- yet did not turn around as he spoke one final time.

‘I know.’

And Vitali was alone in the room again.

The pressure that had been building up in his head now reached its peak, the echo of his heartbeat heavy and painful against his skull as if threatening to beat its way through. It spread downward, to just behind his eyes- but the tears wouldn’t come, eyes unfocused but dry and he simply did not have the energy in him to cry.

He slowly inhaled and turned back around, balling his shaky hand into a fist and placing his knuckles against the glass of the window. Oh, how satisfying it would feel to punch through it- feel the glass shatter underneath his touch, feel the shards stick into skin and flesh and leave bruises and blood behind.

It wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t even make him feel better.

So instead Vitali straightened his back and carefully opened the door of his penthouse’s balcony again, closing his eyes when a soft and gentle breeze hit his skin and moved through his hair. He reached out for his case- flicked a cigarette out, put it between his lips- and despite the weight of his lighter in his hand feeling more like a burden than a relief this time, he lit it, the tasteless smoke not satisfying any of his needs but at least keeping him busy for some minutes.

A distraction was all he needed, sometimes.

The thunderstorm outside had picked up again.

Worse than earlier that afternoon; each flash of lightning was accompanied by at least two more, the booming thunder like explosions mere milliseconds afterwards echoing through the streets of Charter Hill.

An impressive display of weather- the pitch black sky illuminated by bolt after bolt, their crackled imprints in the clouds like cracks in dark marble. It wasn’t raining, now; and with the air still suffocatingly hot it made sense for a window to be open, despite the thunder effectively drowning out any other noise inside the tall office building.

A genius plan, really. Hiding in plain sight- just another corpo building like any other in the district- no one would bat an eye. And no one would come looking there either, as it had turned out; perhaps Vitali was expecting more secret hideouts, more decrepit old Arasaka facilities no longer in use by the corporation.

Oh, Vitali.

The spacious office was dark, barely any natural light pouring in from the windows and Matvey had not bothered to get up and turn on the ceiling lights either. He was sat at his desk- arms draped over the arm rests of his chair, cigarette dangling between his fingers- and stared straight ahead, mind completely elsewhere as he listened to the storm outside.

He was no longer the respectable man he used to be. Had barely found the energy that morning to make himself look presentable- and by then his hair was no longer neatly slicked back and instead fell in strands down his forehead, he had removed his tie and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, collar pulled to the side slightly revealing a deep-set scar his visit to the Arasaka event earlier that month had left him with.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, eyes fluttering shut the second another explosion of thunder shook all the windows of his office. The fumes made him nauseous; he had not smoked in years. Yet somehow he was already on his third that day.

Everything had changed, when Matvey Dobrynin lost his job.

He had lost his position in Arasaka; a position he’d fought so hard for, for years, a decent position that had finally provided him the respect and admiration he’d always thought he deserved. He’d lost his stable income, his healthcare benefits- his insurance too, and a large chunk of his savings.

But Matvey was a resourceful man. He’d had no doubt his opportunities would be plentiful even after his unfortunate departure from the corporation. Perhaps no longer on Arasaka grounds- perhaps Kang Tao would want to hire him, or Militech, considering his strong ties with them through Arasaka’s Finances Division- but that would have been alright with him, as long as he could restore some of his dignity he’d lost on the way down.

But Nadya had different plans.

Had it just been Matvey who had been fired, who knows what would have happened? He could still vividly remember his wife’s rage when she too had lost her job, and could still vividly remember how she had spent night after night after night in the living room trying to figure out what had happened, what had gone wrong, why they had been sent away.

He slowly raised his cigarette again, rolling it between his fingers as he stared at the lightly burning end of it, the ashes dropping down onto his desk. Barely smoked- but he still pressed it out in the ashtray sitting in front of him, watching the smoke dissipate in the stuffy air of his office.

Vitali’s fault, somehow. Nadya had always been quick to blame their son- though with a significant lack of respect for his identity- and Matvey had barely believed her at first.

But after doing some more digging in Arasaka’s archives together he had been left with no other choice.

Loud, rapid knocking on the door dragged Matvey out of his thoughts and he glanced up, inhaling deeply as he straightened his back and allowed his mercs access to his office with a “come in”, only just loud enough to be heard over the thunderstorm outside. A tall, bald man covered in faded Valentinos tattoos and his scrawny, cyborg friend- Sanders and Dusty, if he remembered correctly- entered; and from their faces Matvey could instantly tell something was wrong.

Of course he knew what was going on- his mercenaries were getting impatient. They wondered what they were waiting for; still loyal enough to wait for his signal but their inability to sit still and follow his exact orders was causing them to get nervous, and restless.

‘What’s the plan, boss?’ Sanders plainly asked, stopping in his tracks right before the desk, hand tapping on the side of his thigh. His pale eyes bore holes through Matvey’s forehead and his jaw appeared tightly clenched- holding back his words, his entire body language showing the fixer he was barely able to contain himself.

A quick assessment of the situation at hand- Matvey knew well enough it was necessary when dealing with unpredictable guns for hire and his keen eye for anything out of the ordinary had saved his ass several times before already. He slowly leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other; and in that very same movement he carefully drew a gun from a hidden compartment just below the tabletop of his desk, and rested it on his thigh with his finger ready beside the trigger.

‘We have discussed this before,’ he spoke, not batting an eye when Sanders scoffed and took a small step back, almost bumping into Dusty in the process. ‘You wait for my signal while I plan our next move. Make yourself useful in the armory, if you so please- go over our supplies, do a workout.’

So much had changed, since the beginning of it all- Matvey was not even sure anymore where it had gone wrong. Perhaps Nadya losing interest after her initial anger had pushed him to take action was what had caused everything to spiral; perhaps he himself had gone too far in his quest for revenge, somewhere along the way; or perhaps his mercenaries taking control over situations and wreaking havoc across town at a much larger scale than he had ever intended for was letting it all get out of hand, to the point he had to wonder for how much longer he would be able to control them at all.

And ever since the last time he saw Vitali- bloodied and beaten and nearly choked to death by Ravager, mantis blade ripped out of his arm- he was no longer sure what he was even doing it all for anymore.

So much time had passed, so many things had changed; it was hard to tell who had caused the chain of dominos to start falling in the first place.

‘What’s next? You gonna start makin’ us do your paperwork for you?’ Sanders suddenly asked, a faint smile lingering on his face but Matvey knew he was not playing around. The merc wandered closer again and rested his hands on the desk, leaning forward- a poor attempt at intimidation- and he slightly tilted his head, eyes narrowing when he noticed Matvey did not react.

‘It’s been days,’ he said. ‘Thought you said he’s injured- what’s the fuckin’ holdup? You wanna hit ‘im where it hurts, should’a struck a day or two ago. My people are gettin’ agitated- the boys are gonna pick up crocheting as a hobby at this rate!’

‘Your people?’ Matvey repeated, raising his eyebrows as he suddenly leaned forward and placed his forearms on his desk, revealing the gun in his hand- causing Sanders to jump back immediately, and Dusty to follow suit.

‘As far as I’m concerned I am still in charge here,’ he continued, running his finger over the side of the gun neatly placed on his desk, the barrel aimed directly at the merc stood in front of him. ‘I have made the terms of the contract you signed clear when you signed it; it is not up for negotiation and even if it was- this is no way to bring that up in a civilized conversation.’

‘You’re not gettin’ shit done,’ Sanders bluntly replied. ‘Thought we had a plan- thought we had a deal.’

‘And the deal is still on and you will get what you came to me for.’ Matvey paused, slightly tilting his head as he waited for the weight of his words to settle in Sanders’ pea of a brain. ‘Vitali will pay for what he did to you- to all of you. In time. Patience, Sanders.’

‘Runnin’ a little thin these days.’ Sanders licked his lips, and a grin spread on his face. ‘My boys say you’re goin’ soft.’

Do they now?

Matvey did not care what they thought of him. His mercs meant nothing in the bigger picture of things- nothing more than a bunch of disloyal cunts who abandoned Vitali the second he hadn't been there to change their diapers anymore.

Sure, right for the taking for Matvey- but who in their right mind would put their full trust in people willing to get up and walk away that easily?

‘Listen, Dobrynin,’ Sanders slowly said and walked closer again, about as close to the desk as he could physically get- no longer worried by the gun resting on top, perhaps overtaken by bravery, perhaps by mere foolishness.

‘I don’t know what happened last time you saw him, and frankly I don’t care. Maybe we failed this time- what’s the big deal? There’s several other events lined up- the fundraiser in a week, that gala you mentioned? Just kill another guy and blame it on ‘im, get it over with!’

‘If we strike too often we will raise suspicion and draw Arasaka’s attention toward us,’ Matvey calmly responded, but Sanders was already not listening anymore.

‘You’re just like him!’ he yelled and scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. ‘Always waiting. Just a bit longer- just to see what happens. And for fuckin’ what? Your fuckin’ piece of shit failure of a son took everything from us, he took everything from you, and you’re just lettin’ him get away with it? If it weren’t for your fuckin’ contract I would’ve already strangled the life out of him a long fuckin’ time-’

BANG!

Something inside Matvey snapped.

He stood motionless behind his desk, chair fallen to the floor; gun tightly in his hand, finger still solidly around the trigger, the booming noise and echo of the gunshot drowned out by the thunderstorm but the ringing left like an alarm in his ears.

Sanders lay motionless on the floor in front of him, a large pool of blood taking shape underneath his corpse and staining the concrete floor. Another body to bury- or, burn, he supposed- one of many, just another tally mark on the wall of those who had lost their lives on his path of revenge.

Matvey watched the blood spread over the floor as his heartbeat slowly settled down, a tight knot in his throat making it hard to breathe; and he lowered his gun but kept his finger around the trigger, his grip so tight he almost feared he would accidentally fire it a second time.

He had not meant for that to happen.

Whether that was actually true or he simply told himself that to ease his mind, he was not sure- not as if it mattered. All he wondered was why; what had caused his anger to overtake him to such a degree he had felt the need to-

‘Sir?’

Dusty had taken a few hesitant steps closer, his voice unmistakably unstable as he spoke. Matvey blinked and turned to look at him- and a single glance was enough to cause the other man to stop in his tracks and freeze on the spot.

‘Leave,’ he heard himself say, voice low as he gestured to the entrance of his office with the gun still in his hand.

‘Should I get some people to clean this u-’

‘I said leave.’

‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

Matvey dropped the gun on his desk as Dusty hurriedly left the room, the door slamming shut a lot louder than necessary causing Matvey’s shoulders to tense up. He absently turned around and set his chair back on the floor- then sank down into it, running a hand through his hair as his eyes wandered back to the still growing pool of blood underneath Sanders’ body.

‘That traitor took everything from us. And you’re just going to let her get away with it?’

Nadya’s voice boomed through the living room, the sharp edge to her words cutting through like a knife carving into skin and flesh and from the corner of his eye Matvey could see Roksana flinch on the couch.

‘We don’t know what happened to him,’ Matvey plainly answered. ‘It could all just be a misunderstanding-’

‘We have lost our fucking jobs! They are not going to give it back!’

Nadya cursed loudly and kicked against one of the chairs at the table, the noises of it echoing through the space surrounding them- and with that, Daniil stood up from the couch and guided his sister out of the room, shooting a single glare at his father on their way out.

‘What the fuck are you protecting her for?’ Nadya cried, leaning backwards against the table.

‘I am not protecting him,’ Matvey cut her off, a bluntness to his voice as he put extra emphasis on the last word of his sentence. ‘Merely giving him the benefit of doubt-’

‘And for WHAT? Do you truly care so little about your fucking family?!’

Matvey rose to his feet with a similar force as earlier and grabbed his gun and screamed- and he emptied it entirely in the floor right next to Sanders’ corpse, the impact of the bullets causing blood to splatter around and leave several new stains around the holes.

It didn’t feel good.

He scoffed and tossed the empty weapon on his desk, and it bounced right off the wood and clattered on the floor instead. Dropped himself back into his chair- ran both his hands through his hair as he inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring while he sucked in his cheek and bit down hard- until the bitter taste of blood spilled into his mouth.

Matvey had not heard from Nadya in several weeks now. He had no idea what she had been up to, ever since they had been forced to relocate when Dupoint had given Vitali a location to work with.

He had no idea what he was doing any of it for anymore.

And with that, he reached for the pack of cigarettes again, flicking one out and putting it between his lips and lighting it while another crackle of thunder illuminated the dark skies above Night City.

[aw-bean-s]

sometimes I just wish my friends liked me the way other people's seem to

[gentlethorns]

fuck dude i have got to find a job where i can be self-employed and creative. i cannot be in fucking retail hell anymore

[slippery-minghus]

adamantly reminding myself that there is a normal and understandable reason that i feel so overstimulated. that it's not just happening wildly out of my control (with no hope of saving myself) and that it will get better in a few days 😵

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.” 

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[einaudis]

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[batboyblog]

I'm seeing a worrying amount of idiots on tumblr dot com push that "Kamala hates trans women" and I am losing my mind at how they are pushing it, constantly, saying she is a proven transmisogynist, despite it being a complete lie and her actively working behind the scenes to help trans women in prison. Is there like, sources that could help debunk this shit because I'm at my wits end as these people scream and cry and vomit trying to get biden to drop out but then are like "eghhhh still don't wanna vote for a transphobic cop..." when she's NEITHER-

Isn't the internet wonderful? first rule NEVER examine your priors! ALWAYS! hang onto whatever the first hot take you had on a subject to THE DEATH!

"Kamala is Transphobic!" over here in reality

past that trans and LGBT rights groups have been quick to endorse her like

Advocates for Trans Equality

Human Rights Campaign

just today 1,100 LGBT celebrities, lawmakers and leaders endorsed her

“The intersection on the issue of reproductive care and trans care, and the ability of families to be able to have care for their children and their families, is really, again, an intersection around attacks that are on an identity,” -Vice-President Harris, 2023

any ways the root of the idea she's transphobic comes from one case in 2015. Two inmates in the California State Prison system sued to get GRS, which as inmates would have been covered by the Prison system. It's worth noting here, both women got what they wanted, one was paroled and got the surgery covered by California Medicare while the other serving a life sentence was ultimately covered by the prison system.

Two things are important to bear in mind here, 1. Part of the job of California Attorneys General is to defend the state when it is sued, thats the job, 2. It seems early on in the case Harris was not personally aware of it, about 1,000 lawyers work in the Cali AG's office and so the AG cannot be personally aware of every case, and check this quote from the Lambda Legal lawyer handling the case:

“The California AG’s office shifted its handling of these cases significantly after now-Sen. Harris took over,” Renn said. “Initially there was language in briefing for the state that glaringly misunderstood the medical necessity of transition-related medical care and was patently offensive. But then, there was a dramatic change, which seems to have gone along with important policy shifts.”

Link

in 2019 Harris talked about the case and working after it was settled to change the policy of the California State Prison system

"When that case came up, I had clients, and one of them was the California Department of Corrections. It was their policy. When I learned about what they were doing, behind the scenes, I got them to change the policy," Harris said.

"I commit to you that always in these systems there are going to be these things that these agencies do. And I will commit myself, as I always have, to dealing with it," Harris said.

Any ways Harris can consistently spoken out for and supported Trans people, banned the hateful Trans panic defense when she was AG, in the Senate supported the Equality Act, during her 2020 campaign for President she drew attention to the hate crimes against black trans women while holding herself accountable for the 2015 case. As Vice-President she drew fire voicing support for Dylan Mulvaney during the hellish Bud Light backlash. Her Husband Doug was tapped to host the first ever White House Trans Day of Remembrance

basically you're looking at a great ally who clearly supports trans rights, who was involved in a case, which involved two people who got the surgeries they were looking for paid for by the State of California, close to 10 years ago now, there's evidence that both she moved the case in a better direction when she took over it and also that she changed the polices of the state to before more gender affirming.

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Bet

Drunk! Alastor x female reader

Summary: The patrons beg alastor to join them on their night out after what seemed like forever he finally agrees, he gets drunk and you lose a bet leaving you having to take care of him and be his personal body guard you do all of it in heels.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, alastor is very flirty when intoxicated and touchy.

CREDIT: TO ORIGINAL OWNER OF DRAWING

It was Charlie's idea; she thought it would be a good idea for Alastor to join them in a night of fun beyond the town. She begged and pleaded with the deer demon, and he finally agreed after she said that the activity was a bar. You were quite surprised. Alastor eventually said yes because, sure, he drank his brown liquor, but that wasn't often. But seeing the way his eyes lit up at the word 'bar'... you had thought he would only have a drink or two, say he pleased the Princess, then leave... Oh boy, you were wrong.

Charlie, you, Angel Dust, and the others sat at a table, music filling the air around you all, and each had your own drinks. Everyone was dressed up slightly more than usual, basically a different top. But since Alastor was ALWAYS dressed to impress, he wore his usual pinstripe suit. You wore a nice cocktail dress with heels. You were not dressed to impress; Angel Dust helped you pick out an outfit because you were struggling, and this is what you both agreed on.

Angel, with a mischievous smile, said, "How much you wanna bet that Smiles is gonna get black out drunk?"

"I don't think so," you argued. He always seemed collected and was barely found at the hotel's bar, so what made Angel Dust think that he was going to?

"Wanna bet?" Angel inquired. And you shook on it. You were wrong, VERY WRONG. When the night came to an end, Alastor was on a barstool, slumped over. You cursed at yourself and, frankly, the others for leaving you with the very much drunk deer demon.

"Jesus Al, I wasn't expecting you to handle liquor like a sailor," he looked at you with hooded eyes, his radio-filter seeming to be gone and just a slurry mess. Alastor chuckled softly. "Oh, but isn't it delightful to let loose every once in a while? Besides, I'm rather skilled at handling my liquor, don't you agree?" His smirk was strained slightly.

"You're something," you said, slapping money down on the counter and helping him off the barstool, his tall figure slumped onto you, causing you to let out a squeak as you tried to hold him up without ending up falling to the floor due to your choice in footwear. Once you got a good grip on him and he wrapped his long arm over your shoulder, the two of you slowly and steadily made your way out from the bar.

As the two of you made your way through the horrid streets of Hell, he looked over at you with a mischievous grin and leaned close to your ear, whispering, "You know, my dear, I must say you make quite the striking figure," Alastor remarked. You couldn't help but blush at his words, but you knew he was drunk and all the things he was talking about weren't true, at least some things.

You shook your head to rid of the thoughts and focused on the task at hand. You realized that he was much more vulnerable in his current state of mind, so you paid close attention to your surroundings. After what seemed like FOREVER, you two finally made it back to the hotel; we aren't going to talk about what a struggle that was.

Alastor's eyes remained heavy-lidded, his smile a close-lipped smile as he looked at you. You had him lean up against a wall, to be honest, to give you a break and let yourself recompose before you moved forward. He looked over at you, his grin widening, and he watched your every move, lifting his hand and beckoning softly. You sighed and walked over to him, and he hiccupped in between his breaths. You noticed that his finger trailed down your chest after being left on your cheek for a short while. You grabbed his claw, which was way too big for you, and pulled it away, your face turning red again.

"I've had quite a night, haven't I?" He said, and you only nodded, then wrapped his long arm around and over your shoulder and helped him off the wall; his weight landed on you again, and you let out a huff; he was not light. He let out a giggle, "You know... maybe we should..." You stopped him and said, "No, no, you need sleep. I know you barely sleep, but that's what you need."

Alastor then smiled playfully and moved his claw down to your waist, pulling you closer to him; this new position between you two was not comfy, but he didn't care; you just focused on not taking both of you out. "Alright, alright... I'll behave."

Still leaning heavily on you as you two stumbled into his room, you didn't think much about him not having a bed, so you had a couch in the room, so you plopped him down on it, fixed your dress, ran a hand through your hair, and let out a breath. He grinned up at you, slowly taking you in. You pulled one of his chairs from the other side of the room and dragged it in front of him; his red eyes continued to watch your every move; you soon sat down in front of him and patted your leg for a sign to have him put his shoed foot on your leg; after a few tries of telling him, he does, and his boots were hard to get off.

"Point your foot," you instructed, and he only let out a soft laugh and does point his foot, and you take it off.

"Dear..." He slurred. You didn't answer as you focused on your task. Alastor hiccupped, and that's what got your attention. "My dear, I must admit, tonight has been quite the delightful surprise. Perhaps I shall have to indulge in such outings more often."

"Please don't." You gave a polite smile and pushed off his red suit coat and placed it on a hanger and placed it in his closet, then draped a blanket over him.

"You better be asleep by the time I come back and check on you." You threatened; you couldn't believe this, but he looked adorable. "Yes, ma'am." You then left him to rest.

[cutielando]

sweet girl | o.p.

synopsis: in which you bring your little girl to her first race

my masterlist

"Are you sure she's ready?" you asked Oscar one night, laying in bed facing each other.

"She'll be safe with you and my parents, you don't have to worry about that. We don't have to bring her if you don't want, it was just a thought" he said, tracing your spine with the tips on his fingers.

Ever since Charlotte was born, you've kept it a complete secrete from the public. You hadn't even told anyone that you were pregnant except for your families and the McLaren team. Given that your lives were very public and in the open eye, you wanted to enjoy your pregnancy as something only for the two of you.

"How do you think the world is going to react?" you asked, already picturing the whole paddock going crazy over the fact that you would be bringing your baby to a race.

"They're going to lose their minds" Oscar chuckled, pulling you even closer.

You chuckled alongside him before you settled into a comfortable silence, the baby monitor silent for the moment.

"This past year has been amazing. Just the three of us, nobody commenting on how we should be leading our lives" you said, thinking back on the one year since your girl has entered this world.

Your pregnancy has been amazing, you were lucky that you didn't experience morning sickness at all, you didn't have weird cravings, you hadn't gained that much weight, you weren't tired, you kept active. It was really the dream pregnancy.

Oscar, of course, had become all that more protective of you and the baby. He made sure you were always comfortable, you never had to strain yourself more than necessary, he was practically at your beck and call the entire time.

When it came down to labor, he was with you the whole time you had to push, whispering encouraging words, holding you up and holding your hand. He was the best, helping you with your recovery and being the most hands-on new father that you had ever met.

And you weren't just saying that because you were biased.

"It has. I'm surprised nobody figured it out, to be honest" he said, making the two of you laugh.

"Imagine their surprise when they see us with Char" you said, silently hoping Oscar would get the hint.

He was silent for a moment before he looked down to you, a smile threatening to escape his lips.

"Does that mean you'll come to the race with her?" you giggled, nodding your head.

Oscar pulled you to him, kissing your lips eagerly. Just as you rolled around and ended up on top of him, your hands wordlessly sliding up his shirt, cries erupted from the baby monitor, making you sigh and chuckle.

"I'll get her" Oscar said, kissing your forehead and leaving the room to soothe your daughter.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Do we have everything?" you asked, finishing dressing your baby girl in a papaya onesie the McLaren team had gifted you for the occasion.

"Yes, everything is in the bag" Oscar assured you, picking it up along with his backpack.

"Are you ready to go see daddy race, sweet girl?" you cooed at Charlotte, who smiled wordlessly at the both of you.

Her small hands reached out to Oscar, her eyes twinkling at her father.

"You ready, Char?" Oscar asked in a baby voice, tickling her tummy which prompted your girl to erupt in a fit of giggles, your favorite sound in the world.

After spending a couple more minutes with your little family, you two met up with his parents and started your journey towards the track, Oscar's parents playing with Charlotte the whole way to keep her entertained.

Once you finally arrived, Oscar took the bags and kept you close to him as you held Charlotte, trying to shield her face away from the thousands of flashed coming your way. 

She, on the other hand, being the little social butterfly that she was, insisted on being seen, waving to everyone that passed by you.

A couple of interviewers signaled for Oscar to give a statement, so he gently pulled the two of you with him towards one of the friendlier ones.

"Oscar Piastri, the man of the moment. I see you have brought someone special with you to your home race, care to share the news with us?" the kind woman asked, her eyes darting to the happy little girl holding her McLaren teddy in her arms.

"This is my wife, Y/N, as my fans know, but we have an addition to the family. This is our daughter, Charlotte Rose, she's almost 1 year old and she decided she wanted to watch her daddy drive today, isn't that right, Char?" Oscar turned his attention to your daughter, gently caressing her cheek.

She smiled widely at him and squealed "Voom voom!" which made everyone melt and awe.

"She is adorable, congratulations to you both. This is the first time we're hearing about her, how did you come to the decision to keep Y/N's pregnancy a secret?" the woman followed up, smiling at you the whole time.

"I am a public figure and my whole life is being displayed to the public. When we found out that we were expecting, we both made the decision to keep it to ourselves and our families, mainly so we could have a sense of normality for when she would be born and not throw her into the spotlight immediately. We wanted to enjoy it for ourselves for a while" he explained, not even minding that Charlotte was tugging at his hair as she wriggled in your arms.

"We understand. Congratulations to both of you once again, you have made one beautiful young daughter. I wish you good luck on the race and much love in the future with this little one" the interviewer looked at you for permission to touch her, which you gave by simply smiling.

The woman squished her cheeks, making Charlotte smile and babble at her, seemingly happy as a bug.

Oscar thanked the woman and led you through the paddock towards the McLaren hospitality, where you and his parents would be residing in for the race.

Once there, Lando and Zak were waiting for you, eager to see the newest addition to the Papaya army.

"There she is, my favorite little munchkin" Lando cooed before taking her from your arms, your little girl giggling once she laid eyes on her favorite uncle.

"La-do" Charlotte giggled, not being able to pronounce his name correctly yet.

"Yes, it's your uncle Lado. You just get cuter and cuter every time I see you" he bounced her in his arms, making her erupt in a fit of laughter which made everyone in the hospitality smile.

"How are you, Y/N?" Zak asked, putting a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm great, thank God. She's keeping us on our toes, but we love it nonetheless. Oscar really wanted her for the race and I couldn't deny him that" you explained, making Zak nod and smile.

You diverted your eyes back to your husband, who was now sitting on the floor with Lando and playing with Charlotte.

As you watched them, you knew that you would never trade this for anything else in the world. This right here, Oscar and your girl, was everything that you needed.

Just Oscar and your sweet girl.

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[olsenmyolsen]

A**holes With Cameras

master list

dark master list

Actress AU (Female Reader X Actress Wanda Maximoff) I know, I know! another one??? yes!!!

Summary: As you head to your new gym, you spot your favorite actress and an annoying member of the paparazzi.

Word Count: 2.7K

Content: Fluff, paparazzi, men, flirting

You sighed as you finally parked your car after trying to parallel park on the street for about five minutes. 

It was Wednesday.

What should be the third day of your workout week was actually your first. You had been too tired to go on Monday, and honestly, yesterday, you didn't remember your promise to yourself until you were brushing your teeth after dinner.

But now here you were at the gym.

Well, technically, you were still outside of it. But this had been the closest you had been to a gym in a while.

And it's not like you were unhealthy or that you lived a terrible diet or life. It's just that you wanted to help your body before it was too late. Plus, if your Almond Mom made one more comment during your monthly FaceTime call, you would actually lose it.

So here you sat in your car on the outskirts of the city of stars outside of a gym your friend of a friend Darcy Lewis hooked you up with.

However, before you could step out, a man in an ugly shirt and fugly jeans ran up and placed his body onto the hood of your car. "What the fuck!" You yelled as the man pulled out a camera with a long lens and zoomed in on a person walking across the street at the end of the block.

An Emmy Nominated Actress and the internets Mother: Wanda Maximoff.

You found yourself stunned to see her as you looked out and to the back from your driver's side window. Your mind thinking of every piece of media and content you LOVE! While the other part of you is squealing on the inside as your stomach does flip after flip.

How the fuck was she a model in just street clothes and gym wear???

Your thoughts of Wanda came to a screeching halt when, all of a sudden, you heard this agitating male voice. "Come on, Wanda! Smile for once!" The man on the hood of your car moved off and took picture after picture of Wanda as she passed by and entered your new favorite gym.

The sight and grin of the bald man made your blood boil.

So, as he admired his pictures, you honked your horn and gave him a good scare before grabbing your phone and water bottle and exiting your car. "What the hell was that?"

The man looks you over and tilts his head. "Excuse me?"

"Excuse me?" You mock back. "Yeah, excuse you, dude! First, you climb all over my car that I'm still actively paying off! Then you just harass and take pictures of somebody??" You bark at the man as you walk onto the sidewalk.

"Chill, it's just pictures." He rolls his eyes and starts walking away from you. "Still not right, you asshole!" You yell even if you secretly love them whenever you see them on social media. But you raise your head high and watch the man walk away before you enter the gym.

The lady behind the desk looks at you with a smile. "You tell him!" She sends you a thumbs up as you smile and shake your head before scanning the special gym card Darcy had to give you.

It was metal. Like what??

Anyways. You smile and walk into the large, spacious gym. It plays quiet music as you step onto the floor. Mostly, everybody you walk past on the way to the treadmill is too busy with their music and AirPods.

Shit, you forgot yours.

You sigh, hating the thought of being alone with your own ones. Still, you set your phone and water bottle down as you hit some buttons on the treadmill. "Woah!" You jolt as the belt suddenly kicks the speed up as it slowly starts.

You chuckle nervously to yourself and look around in case anyone saw you.

No one did but one person.

But they'll show up in a second. Because right now, your eyes found the bald-ass paparazzi douche through the window waiting across the street. You let out a deep, upset sigh through your nose and gave him a glare he couldn't see before your view became obstructed.

A side profile from a face sculpted by the goddesses themselves distracts your pretty eyes as Wanda Maximoff sets up on the treadmill next to you.

She briefly glances at you before she puts in her AirPods and starts up her treadmill. You don't mean to, but you stare longer than you should before finding yourself moving down the treadmill.

You snap out of her stunning trance on you and begin your workout.

Although you'd be lying if you said it was easy to concentrate on anything other than the tremendous and beautiful Wanda Maximoff. Because your eyes kept moseying on back to her again and again, you tried to stop and be normal, but your thoughts became clouded with questions.

Should I say hi?

Do I even talk to her?

How is her garden doing?

Will she ever stop wearing that row bag?

"Excuse me?" The voice of an angel forces your eyes up and over. Wanda Maximoff removes an AirPod from her ear and looks at you before she starts speaking again. "You're the one who yelled at the paparazzi, right?"

Wanda knew it was you. She watched you yell at him before she scurried off earlier.

You nod. "Ye-yeah, that was me!" You immediately feel embarrassed by your overzealous nature before closing your eyes and sighing. You open them back up and smile at Wanda, who has the corner of her lips curled up. "Yes, that was me."

Wanda nods. "Well, thank you. It's awful to deal with them." She says as you nod. You could imagine. Her twin brother Pietro also deals with it. The Maximoffs are kind of a household name after their sister Polaris started on a show when she was a baby. "Yeah, I'm sorry you have to." You politely respond and give her a sympathetic smile before she waves you off. "I chose to become famous."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give those assholes with cameras any right." You speak, making her pull her lips in with a surprised look. "Sorry." You say after a second or two. But Wanda shakes her head. "No, you're completely right. Sorry for my face. It's just... it's just nice to have someone be so candor..."

You knew all about Wanda's ex and how they cheated on her.

You offer a smile before looking at the window. Wanda doing the same following your eye-line. "Well, it appears I didn't tell him off enough." Wanda hums and turns back to you. She looks at her AirPods. "Do you want one?"

The bald man leaves your eyesight as you look at the darling actress of your life. "I- uh, no, yeah. Yeah. Thank you." Your hands shake slightly as you take it and place it in your right ear. Wanda notices the nervousness coming from you but doesn't want to bring it up and make it worse. "Do you have anything in particular you'd like to listen to?" She asks, her voice soft after speeding up her treadmill

"No. I'm down for whatever." You answered honestly as your brain caught up to the fact that you were talking and being friendly with THE Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda hits shuffle on her Spotify before looking up to you. "Well, I hope you like The Guardians." She says as an 80's inspired synth slowly starts filling your ear before an electric guitar breaks through and a man's voice starts singing about his girlfriend. "I've never heard them!"

Wanda looks back at you. "What!?" She looks shocked. "Peter Quill, Drummer Drax, Guitarist Gamora..?" Wanda says, hoping that something would click by offering you some context of the band members.

You shake your head.

Wanda grabs her phone. "Oh my gosh. Okay. I know what we're listening to!" She queues up the band's first album, simply titled Vol. 1.

You can't help but smile.

Fuck she really was as lovely and as charming as everyone always described her.

"I've become obsessed." She says, putting her phone down. "I can tell." You joke, making her playfully roll her eyes.

Was this flirting? Oh god, am I finally doing it??

"Carol Danvers got me hooked onto them."

That name made a ding go off in your brain, and words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

"Oh yeah, you're doing a movie together!"

You tensed up quickly after saying that. Now Wanda would know you were not just a regular fan or avid watcher. You were an 'I have updates on my phone about things you do' type of fan.

Wanda looks to you before turning down the music one or two clicks. "Oh... I didn't realize you were such a fan." She says a little coldly to her warm words from moments ago. You stumble over your words. "Yeah- no, I mean, yes, I am a fan and know who you are, but- j- just forget I said anything or ruined this nice moment." You close your eyes and feel awful before turning away to avoid her precious green eyes if they looked at you.

The music goes back up with a click.

You sigh.

And a moment passes.

"We actually finished the movie already." Wanda offers, making you look back at her. "Oh really?" She nods, and you can tell in those same green eyes that the moment between you two isn't lost. "So, a fan, huh?" You nod sheepishly as her eyes look over your face. "I would've yelled at the asshole outside regardless of if it was you or not, by the way."

Wanda likes that and chuckles a little bit. "Well, I appreciate that. Is he still there?"

You look at the window and nod. "Well, you can yell at him some more later when you walk me to my car," Wanda says without facing you. She bites back a smile. You feel your cheeks flush. "You got it." You say and focus on getting your steps in as your face reddened.

"By the way..." You look to your left. "It's okay that you're a fan, honestly. It's just sometimes nice to forget and... and to have people talk to you for you." You nod and, after a couple of quiet seconds, stick your hand out to her. "I understand. I'm Y/n."

Wanda realizes she never got your name and sends an apologetic smile. "I'm Wanda." Her soft hand shakes yours before letting go. The touch sends shivers down your sides before you smile. "Let me guess." You start. "You have the look of someone who sings for a living?" Wanda smiles and lets out a loud laugh. Shaking her head and ducking her face when people around the gym look to her. "How did you guess?" She says, making you shrug with a grand look and smile. Enjoying this second chance. Even as you two lie about her profession. "Just had a feeling."

That feeling would transform into jokes and continuous small talk as you two completed your workouts together. Well, actually, you just did whatever Wanda did, which was a struggle. Her past roles in those superhero movies really upped her body fitness.

"So, how come I've never seen you at this gym before?" Wanda asked as sweat covered the both of you while she refilled her water bottle. "Did you just move here?" Wanda asks with a glint in her eyes. You shook your head. "No, I live around." You missed a smile Wanda got for one second. "I know a friend of a friend, and they got me in." Wanda nods. "Well..." She puts the top on her bottle. "I'm glad I got to meet you."

"Me too." You say like that wasn't evident as you hide your blush. But Wanda sees it like all the other ones today. Wanda knows and shares the friendly/flirty smile you send her before she leads the two of you to the doors outside.

"Shit, I almost forgot about him," Wanda mumbles as the egghead starts to take pictures of the two of you. Wanda, putting on her sunglasses, gestures for you to follow her. You join in step with her.

"Just ignore him." She mumbles as you walk closer and closer to her car. And you do ignore him and his need for attention until you feel like he crosses a line.

He brings up Wanda's ex, and you see her cringe and tense up. "It's old news! Now come on and smile!" He shouts and treats her like a dog, sending you into a blind rage as you, without thinking, shove your phone and water bottle into Wanda's hand and turn back to the man several yards away.

"Hey, Blob!" You shout, attacking how he looks. Which you would never do but fuck he deserved it as you stepped closer and closer. The man drops the camera from his eye to around his neck as Wanda and him watch you encroach. "Leave Wanda the fuck alone before the last thing that camera sees is your ass!"

The man sneers. "Touch me or the camera, and I'll see you in court." You watch him smirk and go to lift his camera back up. "That's what I thought."

Wanda watches it all unfold as you look back at her and at the man before you lift your hand. Careful not to touch him or his stupid ass camera but instead the strap around his neck. Wanda watches as, with one simple click, the strap comes undone, and his camera slips out of his hand.

Smashing onto the floor.

The man stands shocked at the damage before he steps forward. "I didn't touch you." You say with a shit-eating grin. "You fucking wrecked my camera!?" He cries out, making you smile wider. "No, I didn't. You dropped it."

You are never one for confrontation or smug comments, but there was something about Wanda and this disgusting man that made your need to protect shoot off like a flare in the night.

Plus, maybe that feeling of justice sent you flying back to Wanda's side.

"I've thought about doing something like that a million times." She beamed to you. Through her sunglasses, you couldn't tell how her eyes glossed over your face, but watching you now, something had changed for Wanda. "Well, I'm glad to make your dreams come true."

Wanda laughed as the two of you walked back to her car. Not caring for the man crying on the sidewalk.

"I must know, will you be back at this gym? I might need more cameras smashed." You smile and chuckle. "Yeah. Same time next week?" You said with confidence coursing through you now as adrenaline picked up.

Wanda shook her head as she opened her Prius door. "How about Friday? I know a great spot for some smoothies afterward."

This sounds like a date.

You did your best to hide the overwhelming excitement, but you don't think you did an outstanding job. "That sounds great!"

Wanda loved that. "Here, put your number in." She said, handing you the same device you listened to music with earlier—her phone. You looked up and back down before putting in your number.

You were not about to wake up if this indeed was a dream.

"I'll text you my schedule for Friday. See what time works best for us." Wanda sits in her driver's seat and starts the car. Letting the A/C blow her hair back. "Maybe we'll have to skip the workout and just go straight to smoothies."

You smile. "That wouldn't be so bad."

Wanda smiled back. "I thought so." She winked. "Fan."

You shook your head and closed the door for her before she rolled down her window. "Bye, Y/n!" She playfully sang before pulling out of her spot, blasting Vol. 1.

Wanda looked back at you in the rearview mirror and smiled.

By the time Friday rolled around, Wanda knew the gym wasn't happening and wore an outfit fit for a date.

Smoothies and pizza later in the night.

Wanda made a home-cooked breakfast the next morning.

dividers by @/benkeibea

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt going absolutely feral if he sees you hurt, you never expected him to be so vicious.

I think sometimes people get caught up in his playfulness and kind hearted nature but can be absolutely vicious when he wants to be. If you got hurt in battle or if someone hurt you in any way, he'd lose his mind.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries and blood/cleaning wounds, gender neutral reader, unedited ignore mistakes.

WC: 1.4k

Kurt loves you so much, and he shows it every single chance he gets. He's thoughtful, patient, and he listens to you whenever you need him to. Sometimes his friends forget what he's capable of under all that sweetness he displays. You do too.

You never saw him go all out in the Danger Room. Most of the time, training by his side consisted of Kurt sticking to you like glue and protecting you. You eventually had to ask him to stop, you needed to try to fight on your own. How else would you learn?

He still watched like a hawk, observing from a distance, since he could absolutely teleport to you if he needed. While the Danger Room presented threats in a fake projection and had hard obstacles, there was no real threat. Sure, you could get hurt, nothing would actively attempt to cause severe harm.

But real battles were different.

In real life, your opponent will try to kill you.

In real life, there are consequences if you aren't careful.

When your first mission came, Kurt insisted on coming with the chosen members for the team, he wouldn't let you go off on your own. You could handle yourself, he knew that. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of not knowing what would happen if he wasn't there.

"Kurt, I'll be fine. You know I've been working hard and I've passed all the tests," you said calmly, while he shifted beside you and gave you a small pout. You knew he was just trying to keep you safe, he cared so much and all he wanted to do was protect you. His tail wrapped around your leg and he sighed back.

"I know, liebling..." he whispered softly, "But I cannot help it. I know you are strong, and fully able to care for yourself." he held your cheeks and smiled at you. "I just want to make sure you'll be okay."

"I can't get any better if you're always there to be my safety net, Kurt." you cooed, but with a small frown. "Sometimes, I need to get hurt so I can get tougher. Or so I can improve my skills. Besides, Scott said I've been doing really good and that I'm ready, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen me for this mission." you added. "You know he can be a stickler."

Kurt chuckled in return, "Ja, he can be rather strict...but I want to make sure you're safe. I won't interfere, not unless I have to." Kurt promised softly.

During the big fight, you were facing three larger enemies. The men held weapons and began to swing them at you, but you were trained enough to dodge and avoid their hits. You were doing well, swinging back and avoiding their weapons, but three against one was hard. You weren't used to such relentless attacks, at least not from opponents hellbent on actually killing you.

In the heat of the moment, you mistook your step, not able to move out of the way quick enough. You feel a fist connect to your jaw, then your cheek, then the center of your nose. You stumble back and feel something flow down your nose, a metallic taste on your tongue.

You get a little roughed up, a few more good punches to the face and being tossed around from the sudden barrage of attacks. You had been caught off guard, as you were used to Kurt showing up within the second to defend you. You were grateful, but mentally cursed yourself for relying on him mid-battle.

Kurt fights off a few opponents and looks just in time to see you thrown onto your back and roll a little from the force of impact. He sees blood on your face and your body shake as you try to stand and recover. At that moment, he looses all composure.

He rushes at the opponent, "Stay away from them!" he snarled angrily, teleporting on top of them and knocking them away from you. He swings his swords and begins an intense duel with them. Hitting over and over, weaseling away from their reactive attacks while landing fierce strikes. You watch from the ground, your pain momentarily subsided as you witness his attack.

You have never seen Kurt so fast. He swings and jumps, his agile body moving almost like water, avoiding any counter the opponent had. If he wasn't battling, you would've been fooled that he was performing for the circus again. He was so elegant to watch, how he moved was hypnotizing. His tail wrapped around the opponent's arm and jerked so their fist collided with their face. Kurt jumped off and let the enemy fall onto their back.

He showed his swords, giving a growl, "Is that all you got, wretched bastards." Kurt spoke with malice in his voice, teleporting between them and knocking the two opponents down with a single twist and kick. When he landed he pointed his sword at them, silent victory.

Kurt glared down at the enemies while the rest of the team with you secured them. He didn't take his eyes off the men who attacked you, glaring and baring his teeth like an animal. He growled and watched as they were all gathered so the team could clear the area. Only after the men were secured did he turn back and rush to you.

"Liebling!" A sudden puff of smoke appeared beside you, and so did he. "Are you okay??" he asked, kneeling down as his hands gently took your cheeks, his eyes taking in your bloodied face. "You're hurt....it's okay. I'm here, I'll get you to the jet..." he carefully cradled you, your surroundings flashed with brilliant purple and black shades, like you were rushing through clouds with bright light peeking through before your surroundings suddenly appeared as the interior of the jet.

"Just relax. I will take care of you, where do you hurt?" he asked, quickly grabbing one of the first aid kits. Your ribs hurt badly, and if they weren't broken you'd be shocked. You had taken a few good hits to the face, and hitting the ground just made your hip sore. But luckily nothing too serious.

"Kurt...m'fine, really." you rasped out, slowly wiping your nose, looking down at the blood that had collected. "Just a little sore...I'm alright." you reasoned with your blue lover, but he shook his head.

"Nein, schatz...you are beaten black and blue..." he knelt back down and gently wiped your face with a rag to clean the blood. He positioned your head up slightly, dabbing a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol. The smell made you cringe, and you leaned back as your cheek stung.

"Ow..." you mumbled, "Kurt, please. I can handle myself," you looked up to continue to talk but the look on his face made you pause. He was worried, he didn't like seeing you hurt. He wanted to take care of you, that was all. He looked back at you, his yellow eyes full of concern and sadness. So you held your tongue and allowed him to continue, even though you were fully capable of doing this, there was no harm letting him.

He dabbed your cuts clean, then applied some ointment to them. The entire time he tended to you, he made sure that he was very gentle. "Easy, liebe...just a little bit more." He applied the last butterfly bandage to your cheekbone and pulled back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Done."

You sighed with relief, sitting up with some trouble since your ribs were definitely damaged. "Thank you, Kurt...you're always so sweet to me." you smiled and kissed his cheek. He eagerly responded and he kissed you back after you pulled away. His tail wrapped around your waist gently and he positioned to hold you.

"We will leave soon. For now just rest...I promise to tend to you if I need to." he whispered, holding your head to rest on his chest. You couldn't fight him anymore, and you relaxed against him. His tail slowly rubbed up and down your back just as you liked, lulling you to sleep.

"Schlaf gut." he whispered, nuzzling his nose into your hair and feeling satisfied with you pulled against him. It scared him, seeing you on the ground like that. You didn't have any serious wounds, but he couldn't imagine if you did. He knew it was bound to happen one day, being part of the team meant every once in a while, injury will occur. He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

Instead he just held you a little tighter, happy you were safe and okay.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Way of X #5 (2021); X-Men the Onslaught Revelation #1 (2021); Way of X #5 (2021)