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chilling-seavey · 4 months

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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Three

↳ A/N Idk where my mind went when I wrote this but I'm almost embarrassed to post it because it's so filthy- Please comment something nice so I don't regret everything and delete these 7.7k words of pure sin LOL

↳ Inspired By: 'Late Night Talking' by Harry Styles

↳ Summary: Ever since your night together in your hotel room, Lando can’t seem to get you off his mind

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 7.7k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexting, dirty talk gets really super nasty, sending nudes, Lando's so incredibly down bad

PART TWO || PART FOUR

It had been twenty-two days since Lando lost his virginity to you in that Bristol hotel room and ever since, he only thought about you more than he had before. Everything was you as if he couldn’t get enough, having given his trust into the hands of the woman of his dreams, and he was so far past attached that even he himself did not realize the extent of his borderline dependency. He played it cool with you through Instagram dms here and there since your night together and every time he received a notification with your Instagram account handle and a simple little message, he would be grinning ear to ear.

It had been sixteen days since Lando turned twenty-one. Usually he would message you first since you were still on your book tour and quite busy, but on his birthday you had sent him something early that morning. His only wish was to have more of you…to have all of you, for life. He even made that wish over his birthday cake as he blew out the candles. His sisters took some pictures of him so he could post them for his birthday and you were one of the first people to like them. You made his insides feel so warm and you did so unknowingly.

It had been three days since Lando moved out of the dorms and back into his parents house. Three days and he was already going crazy. The freedom of the dorms was refreshing but being stuck back at home under his parents’ rules felt suffocating to the now twenty-one year old. Between the curfew, chores, and annoyance from his siblings, Lando was nearly ready to re-pack his suitcase and book a ticket on the next flight out…if only he had more than $14 to his name. His family just didn’t get it. Not like you did.

“We pay a lot of money for you to go to school and we don’t like seeing you wasting your time and throwing it away.” his mother explained as gently as she could over dinner that evening.

Lando, elbow on the table and chin in his hand, swatted the last bit of his supper around his plate with his gaze downcast, “I’m not throwing it away.”

“Well you’re certainly not trying.” his father replied. “Your grades are proof of that.”

Lando dropped his fork to the plate with a clatter and his three siblings glanced over at him from around the table without a word, listening to him be ridiculed by their parents and waiting for his hostile defences, “It’s not my fault that I’m not as good as the rest of the students! I pull as many late nights as they do but their work is just better.”

“Have you sought out extra help from your professors or the tutoring centre?” his mother offered.

“God!” Lando tisked in frustration and slouched back in his chair, “I don’t care!”

“Exactly. You don’t care,” his father agreed seriously, “Your GPA is astronomically low and you’re threatened with academic probation because of it. If you flunk out you will be paying your mother and I back every cent that has gone towards tuition and housing.”

“This isn’t even what I want to do!” Lando retorted strongly, “I want to, like, go into arts and design…or something.”

“That’s not a stable career, Lando, come on. We’ve discussed this.”

His mother added, her voice attempting to be gentle, “We went out on a limb with your attempt at the racing and karting stuff and look where that got you? We want to support you, love, but we can’t keep taking financial risks. We still have to get your sisters through university too.”

“What if I had an opportunity to design book covers for a really well known author?”

His family all looked over at him. There was a beat of silence.

“Do you?” his father inquired, honestly curious.

Lando dropped his gaze to his plate and crossed his arms over his chest, “Well…not yet.”

His younger sisters snickered into their forks.

He glared over at them but recovered quickly at the defence, “But when I met that author that I like at her book signing last month I pitched the offer and she seemed really interested.”

“Oh my God, here we go.” his youngest sister rolled her eyes.

“Lando-” his mother started.

“No, listen-” Lando huffed, “When she gets back to Monaco she’s going to help me get a job…she said so. Something where I can do what I really truly like.”

His parents exchanged flat expressions that had his face falling.

“She will.” he pressed.

His father held a hand up to stop him, “You gotta stop living your daydream, son. Come on.”

“It’s not a daydream!” Lando protested. “Why can’t you guys support me?”

“We don’t want to see you struggling, Lando.” his mother said, “We want you to have a fulfilling life.”

“Yeah, they don’t want you unemployed and living in their basement until you’re middle aged.” his older brother added with a smirk.

Lando glared over at him, “Says you.”

Their two sisters “ooo”ed.

“Regardless of what you think your future is going to look like, you need to better yourself in the present.” his mother continued.

“Which means focusing more on your degree when the next term comes around…and getting a full time job in the meantime.” his father finished.

“I don’t want to go back to school.” Lando grumbled.

“Oh really? What’s your alternative plan?”

“She’s gonna get me a job-”

“Oh my God.” his middle sister laughed, “You’re dropping her name like you’re besties.”

Lando clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to smother the dirty truth to answer with the more innocent response, “We talk every day.”

“She’s being nice.” his mother said gently, “She’s being nice to one of her fans.”

Lando knew his family didn’t understand but the simple words from his mother sent his heart aching. In all honesty, it had been a few days since you had conversed and Lando had been starting to overthink every reason as to why you had left him on ‘seen’. He could have bet money on the fact that you would never use him and drop him…that your night together was more than just a one night stand…but maybe he was getting too ahead of himself.

His father only dug the blade farther into his chest, “She is a stranger whom you think you know. She doesn’t owe you anything. She is not going to be your free pass into having a life you don’t need to work for and she is not going to come sweep you off your feet to rescue you from your failing grades. You are twenty-one years old now, Lando, and it’s about time you start acting like a grown man and get your shit together before life runs you over.”

Lando threw his napkin onto the table and stood up so quickly from his chair that the cutlery rattled on the table when he bumped against it, his throat burning from how he tried to swallow back his anger, muttering under his breath before he stormed off, “I can’t wait to get out of this fucking house.”

His mother called after him warningly, “Don’t think that just because you’re twenty-one now doesn’t mean we can’t still ground you!”

Lando took the stairs two at a time and when he turned the corner at the top of the stairs into his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him and locked it. It was a dangerous balance between anger and heartbreak and Lando paced his room while taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down.

After the freedom that living in the dorms provided, it was hard to return to his house where his parents still ruled. Once he had that taste of independence - a taste of life with you - it was horribly difficult to fit himself back into the little bedroom in which he grew up and grew out of his small suburban town. He didn’t have a bad relationship with his family at all but the reintegration of him back into their house made tensions feel insufferable sometimes. His parents were always on him and he already wanted to escape.

Sitting down on the side of his double bed, Lando pulled out his phone and opened Instagram to send his frustrations to his group chat with his two closest friends.

landonorris: I need to get the fuck out of this stupid house and get to Monaco like NOW landonorris: I’m gonna lose my fucking mind alex_albon: Oh no what happened landonorris: My parents are on my arse about school and work and they don’t get it georgerussell63: Don’t get what? landonorris: That I already am on track to get the one thing I want and it’s not being a stupid accountant georgerussell63: You have us for that alex_albon: Yeah we’re always going to support your dreams mate landonorris: I just want HER landonorris: That’s all landonorris: And she promised me a job designing for her books landonorris: It’s going to be real landonorris: It has to be alex_albon: It will be alex_albon: It won’t happen overnight but it will be landonorris: I just want to get out of this house landonorris: It’s so fucking embarrassing living with my parents georgerussell63: Hey we all live with our parents georgerussell63: Are you saying Alex and I aren’t cool georgerussell63: Rude alex_albon: Yeah what the hell mate alex_albon: 🤨 landonorris: Noo it’s different landonorris: You guys aren’t trying to get a self-sufficient borderline famous Monaco woman landonorris: No one like her is going to want some muppet like me who lives at home with his parents georgerussell63: She clearly does alex_albon: Besides, this is just a temporary stop until you find your own place alex_albon: You’re being resourceful…saving your money georgerussell63: Has she said anything recently? You haven’t told us much these last few days alex_albon: Do we even want to know what she’s been saying? 👀 landonorris: Nothing landonorris: That’s it landonorris: Nothing georgerussell63: Wdym?? landonorris: I messaged her the day I moved back home just to make casual conversation that I moved out of the dorms and she said something like ‘that's nice’ and then when I replied again she just left me on seen alex_albon: Oh georgerussell63: Why?? landonorris: Idfk but I’m stressing so bad over it landonorris: Like what if my parents are right and she just sees me as a fan and nothing more georgerussell63: She took your virginity mate I don’t think she’d be the kind of person to just drop you after that alex_albon: Maybe she’s busy with work. Isn’t she still on tour? landonorris: Her book tour ended yesterday. She should be home now alex_albon: So maybe give her a day or two? Maybe she needs some time to relax after traveling the entire continent of Europe landonorris: Idk landonorris: I miss her georgerussell63: Message her again landonorris: Idk I don’t want to be annoying alex_albon: Ask for your virginity back landonorris: OMFG georgerussell63: Excuse me mommy can I have my virginity back 🥺🥺🥺🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼 alex_albon: EW GEORGE landonorris: GOEREG STOP georgerussell63: HAHJJKKPFJFJG georgerussell63: That’s one way to get her to answer you alex_albon: No that’s how you get blocked landonorris: Lol funny you think I’m the sub tho landonorris: Anyways alex_albon: Pff georgerussell63: Oh yeah with all that experience you have alex_albon: OOF ROASTED landonorris: WOW landonorris: That one night was ENOUGH tbh landonorris: Jeeeezus georgerussell63: Ya those marks you had were fuckin brutal mate alex_albon: In the best way ofc landonorris: YEAH landonorris: I KNOW

Lando flopped backwards on his bed with a smile he struggled to bite back, his worries distracted by his internet friends and the mere memory that was your night together so many days before.

landonorris: God I miss her so fucking much landonorris: How has it almost been a month georgerussell63: Back to celibacy for you georgerussell63: Rip landonorris: I actually hate it here alex_albon: Just message her alex_albon: Just a ‘hey’ or something landonorris: Ew that’s cringe alex_albon: ??? How landonorris: Idk georgerussell63: Be like ‘hey how was the rest of your tour’ landonorris: Make me sound any more like a grandma 🙄 alex_albon: Mate georgerussell63: Or tell her you miss her georgerussell63: Girls like that kinda thing alex_albon: Like you would know what girls like 🤨 georgerussell63: 🖕🏼🖕🏼 alex_albon: ‘Hey I’ve been thinking about our night 😏’ landonorris: Brooo landonorris: I wanna sext with her so bad georgerussell63: 😂😂 alex_albon: Oh but just ‘hey’ is cringe okay landonorris: Maybe I’ll send that landonorris: Idk landonorris: Should I? landonorris: Is it too much? landonorris: After being left on seen for two days idk georgerussell63: Go for it georgerussell63: She literally let you come inside her georgerussell63: I think this is nothing compared to that alex_albon: An odd comparison but a valid one there, GR georgerussell63: Hey thanks mate landonorris: Should I?? georgerussell63: Yeah it’s just reminding her that she’s on your mind which is a good thing alex_albon: And it’s not too hot and heavy right off the bat alex_albon: If she responds with something flirty back then who knows landonorris: Or she’ll leave me on seen again and I’ll have to die of embarrassment georgerussell63: Omg alex_albon: Nah she won’t. Send it georgerussell63: Right now

Lando exhaled deeply and sat up again on the side of his bed as he exited the group chat to find his dm thread with you. It wasn’t too far down on his list since he didn’t talk to many people other than Alex and George and when he opened it up, the little grey ‘seen’ nearly slapped him across the face. He pursed his lips in thought and let his thumbs wave over the keyboard, debating what to say.

He finally drafted something quickly,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently

He screenshotted it before he sent it and then shared the image to his group chat.

landonorris: *sent a screenshot* landonorris: Is this fine? georgerussell63: Add an emoji alex_albon: Yeah maybe a heart or something

Lando swiped back to his thread with you and added a heart to the end,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently 🧡

He sent that screenshot to the group chat.

landonorris: *sent a screenshot* landonorris: Maybe? alex_albon: Yes I think that’s good georgerussell63: Yesss now send it landonorris: Ahh idk is that too annoying? georgerussell63: Blimey mate why are you suddenly all flustered like a teenage girl lol georgerussell63: You’ve literally already slept with her georgerussell63: The hard part is over alex_albon: ^^^ alex_albon: Send it alex_albon: Sendddd it georgerussell63: Send it!!!!

Lando sighed and sat up on his bed again as he exited out of the group chat and opened his thread with you once more. The notifications from his internet friends kept popping up at the top of the screen in silent encouraging cyber chants to get him to send the message. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous exactly. Maybe he had spent too much time dreaming about you that he didn’t want to let one measly message fuck up his one fleeting chance at having you.

His thumb hesitated over the send button for a moment, debating and overthinking. He got up and paced his room a little, staring at the unsent message and going through every possible situation in his head like it was the last decision he would ever make. With a slightly dramatic huff, he closed his eyes and tapped the send button hurriedly.

He exited the chat and opened his group chat in a panic.

landonorris: OKAY I SENT IT landonorris: AHHH landonorris: Gonna throw my phone out the window now georgerussell63: GOOD JOB alex_albon: YES georgerussell63: Now we wait 😌 landonorris: For a miracle georgerussell63: You already had your miracle georgerussell63: That was your night together alex_albon: She’s going to answer Lan dw

Lando didn’t leave his room all night because the concept of facing his family after his slightly immature and dramatic blow up over their inability to see his side of things felt like the worst idea ever. Instead, he dabbled with a few new doodles in his notebook that were infused with thoughts of you and when that got boring, he turned to one of your books for his usual go-to entertainment. His friends were busy with their families and it wouldn’t be until they were ready to sleep that they would reconnect.

Because of their lack of conversation that evening, Lando was trying to do everything in his power to keep his mind away from his sent message to you. The one that you still hadn’t replied to. The more time that passed the more anxious he got until he had no choice but to dive into your fictional universes as some sort of escape, his phone hiding under his pillow and out of sight.

His eyes were glued to the page and every carefully printed word as what always happened when he opened one of your novels. The steamy scene in front of him had his hands clutching the hardcover book tightly, spread out comfortably on his bed, and your honest words only brought him back to his own very real recollection of your magical night that you shared almost a month prior. The chapter ended before the scene got too far and Lando huffed and shut the book and tossed it onto his night stand, letting his head rest back against his headboard so he was staring up at the ceiling.

By that point in the night, it was dark outside and his room was illuminated by only the light of his bedside lamp. He had heard his siblings heading to their own rooms over the prior few hours and eventually heard his parents head to bed too. No one bothered him; probably not wanting to push his buttons with any wrong move. Things would smooth over by morning.

But Lando didn’t feel at ease at all and it was solely due to the fact that he was scared to death that you were ignoring him. He could only pray that his one message didn’t ruin all that he had dreamt of.

When the city of Bristol passed into 9pm, Lando checked his phone one last time. Only a few messages from his group chat were waiting for his response. Nothing from you.

alex_albon: Ok finally done the movie alex_albon: My family wanted to analyze the whole damn thing alex_albon: My sister doesn’t know a thing I stg georgerussell63: Omg we just finished too georgerussell63: I totally demolished my nephew on F1 2021 ngl alex_albon: Ayy the kid didn’t stand a chance alex_albon: Who’d you play as? georgerussell63: Max Verstappen alex_albon: Hell ya les gooo georgerussell63: Did you hear people say he be might be world champion this year?? alex_albon: And beat out Lewis?? Idk… georgerussell63: If my parents had actually let me kart and I made it to F1 I bet I’d be able to beat out Lewis lol imagine alex_albon: Kinky georgerussell63: Ew???? landonorris: George you’d get like 15 points MAXIMUM georgerussell63: That’s so rude alex_albon: Omg Lan hi alex_albon: Did she answer?? landonorris: Nopeee landonorris: I’m gonna kms 😀 georgerussell63: Nooo! georgerussell63: Give her time alex_albon: It’s only been like alex_albon: Three hours… landonorris: Ugh alex_albon: But I gotta sleep landonorris: Ughhhh georgerussell63: Same georgerussell63: I’m helping my dad run some errands tomorrow so we have to be up early for whatever reason alex_albon: Damn I just have to sleep because I’m tired alex_albon: I’m literally doing nothing tomorrow georgerussell63: Your usual landonorris: Lol alex_albon: Lando you’re so dry its weirding me out landonorris: Sorry landonorris: 🧡 landonorris: Love u mate landonorris: Sleep well alex_albon: Thanks mate alex_albon: Praying that you get a reply by morning georgerussell63: Me too! alex_albon: Love yall georgerussell63: Love u ♥️

Lando locked his phone and tossed it onto his bedsheets, deciding to get himself a snack since he didn’t finish his dinner. It would be at least something to take his mind off his worries. With his family already in their rooms, he could navigate his house without interruption and he tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen silently.

Glass of water and a handful of chocolate chip cookies in hand, Lando returned to his room and shut the door behind him. One cookie resting between his lips and his hands full with the rest of the stack and his drink, he headed over to his bed once more. His phone screen lit up just as he approached and the notification that was greeting him had the half bitten cookie falling out of his mouth and onto his bedsheets.

He hurriedly set the glass of water and discarded cookies on his night stand, brushing the crumbs out of his bed as he sat down and re-read the Instagram notification from you.

-Hey you 💕 I’ve been thinking about it too

Lando unlocked his phone and let his thumbs word a response for him without letting himself overthink it,

landonorris: Was wondering if you forgot about it! Haven’t heard from you in a bit

His message was delivered and opened right away, meaning you were waiting for his response in the chat. That fact had him biting back his bashful smile, but his nervousness still lingered over what your answer was going to be. This could have been the moment you would shut him down for good.

-Omg never! -Tour ended yesterday and the flight from Miami was crazy…delayed…they lost my luggage…and then after a hefty sleep last night I’ve spent today picking up my retrieved bags and then unpacking and I was just at lunch with my friends

Lando let out an audible sigh in relief,

landonorris: That’s okay landonorris: Good to be home? -Very -Tour was fucking incredible but this break is going to be nice landonorris: Yeah for sure -Did you really think I forgot about you just like that? landonorris: No I just wanted to make sure you were okay landonorris: It’s been a few days -You’re a sweetheart -I’m just fine landonorris: I’m glad 🧡 -But tell me… -What had you wanting to remind me about our night? landonorris: Nothing in particular landonorris: Was just missing you a little -A little? landonorris: …Yes -Mhmm -Well you may keep your pride here all you want but I won’t be afraid to admit that I missed you quite a lot landonorris: Oh really? landonorris: You? landonorris: Miss Monte Carlo? -Oh please -I’m the least Monaco that Monaco can get -And we had something special that night -I don’t throw that around lightly landonorris: Yeah… landonorris: Okay… landonorris: You got me landonorris: I miss you a lot -The truth comes out 😌 landonorris: I’ve been re-reading your novels because I miss you :) -Omg really 🥺🥺 -Which? landonorris: Second novel…chapter eight… -I see 👀 -So that’s what had you thinking about our night

Lando slouched back against his headboard with a blushing grin that he hid in the material of the collar of his forest green hoodie. He contemplated his response but saw that you were already typing so he waited.

-Which part were you thinking of most?

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip carefully with what you were smoothly instigating and his mind rushed back to each piece of your night together that had thrived in his memory ever since. He didn’t know how strong to start off so he played it cool,

landonorris: All of it landonorris: Kissing in the elevator landonorris: And in the hotel room -Just kissing? landonorris: Well you’re an incredible kisser landonorris: And I fucking loved kissing you -I loved kissing you too -Your lips are so soft -And your hands on my body felt so good -I miss that a lot -The way you grabbed me landonorris: I should have done more of that -That’s okay -Next time 🥰

Lando had to toss his phone onto his bed for a second so he could roll over and scream into his pillow out of sheer lustful glee. He was so smitten for you and all his worries were completely erased by the simple reassurance from you that you had been thinking about doing it all again.

landonorris: For sure landonorris: When and where -Sometime this summer maybe -But we can plan later -I want to hear more about what you miss about me first landonorris: Okay 🧡 landonorris: I miss your body landonorris: And the way it felt under my hands landonorris: Your hips…your ass…your tits… landonorris: So fucking perfect -I swear you’d be so good at body worship landonorris: Fuck baby I’d gladly worship you anyday -Yeah? 🥰 -How? landonorris: I want to take your clothes off and kiss over every inch of your body landonorris: Just breathe you in landonorris: Trail every curve with my lips or my finger just so every part of you has been touched by me -That sounds so good -And then? landonorris: You sure you wanna know? -Tell me everything -Don’t hold back landonorris: I want to spread your legs and taste you -Oh my God landonorris: Is that okay? -Yeah lol I’m sorry that just made my pussy throb landonorris: Jesus landonorris: Did it?? -Yess -I’m an author, words speak wonders to me landonorris: No pressure lol -Never any pressure with me baby -Tell me more -Just spill your thoughts here landonorris: I just wanna know what you taste like because I didn’t get to last time landonorris: You might have to guide me -That’s okay baby -I can lace my fingers in your pretty brown hair and show you where I need you landonorris: Fuck yes please -So I can feel your warm tongue all over my pussy -Inside me -On my clit -Feeling you so fucking close landonorris: I’d kill for your legs over my shoulders right now landonorris: I really really really want you to show me how to eat you out landonorris: Making you come on my mouth would be so fucking hot -Yes sir

Lando’s mouth literally fell open in shock, his heart racing in his chest at how quickly this conversation turned exactly to how he had imagined it in his most salacious dreams.

landonorris: And I fucking loved hearing the way you called me sir landonorris: That fucking did it for me baby -It was your idea and it was a genius one -It got me off too -Honestly I catch myself moaning out that title when I make myself cum now landonorris: You think of me? -Yeah I think of you when I touch myself -Every time landonorris: Often? -Couple times a week -And right now

Lando blinked at his phone screen in disbelief, trying to picture you in your pricey Monaco apartment and warm in your bed in limited clothing and touching yourself while you spoke with him. His dick twitched in his sweats and he dropped a hand down to palm himself lazily over his growing erection. You sent another message,

-Do you think of me? landonorris: Always have landonorris: Only ever you -You’re so fucking cute -God I miss you landonorris: I’m getting hardddd lol -Good hehe -Are you touching yourself too? landonorris: Do you want me to? -That’s for you to decide sir -Do you want me to help make you cum? landonorris: Fuck yes -Okay then strip down and keep talking to me landonorris: Ok gimme a sec

Lando tossed his phone to the side so he could hurry to push down his pants and boxers in one go, letting them drop to the floor carelessly. His sweater joined the pile, leaving him slouched back against his pillows and the headboard in the warm light of his bedside lamp, his legs spread just slightly. He returned to your conversation,

landonorris: Okay landonorris: What else do you want to know? -Talk to me more about eating me out -Have you thought about it a lot? landonorris: Yeah baby landonorris: I dream about it too sometimes landonorris: I can still hear your gorgeous little whimpers and the way you moan my name and I just want to feel you grinding up against my face and helping me to make you feel so good landonorris: But I really wanna know how you taste -Want me to describe it? landonorris: Yes -It’s sweet -But not like candy -It’s more of a warm kind of flavour that tastes salacious -And it drips everywhere and soaks everything -It would get all over your mouth and your chin landonorris: Fuck landonorris: I want that landonorris: And I want to wrap my arms around your thighs so you can’t get away from me and I can feel all of you all over me, just covering me in your wetness -It’s all for you sir -I’d link my ankles around your shoulders to keep you there too landonorris: Hands pulling at my hair -Yes please landonorris: Show me how you want me to touch you landonorris: Pull me to where you need me -Suck on my clit landonorris: Whatever you need baby landonorris: Can I finger you too? -At the same time pleaseeee landonorris: I can do that landonorris: My mouth on your clit and two fingers inside you -Fuck that’d make me moan so loud -Just the idea of your fingers flicking inside me is making my legs shake -I need it landonorris: How fast? -Slow. I want to make it last landonorris: Of course landonorris: And if you’re a good girl for me I’ll let you cum twice -Fuck how can I be your good girl sir landonorris: Let me have my way with you landonorris: And show me how good I make you feel with your sweet moans and the way you cry my name landonorris: You’re so fucking sexy I won’t want to stop -Yes I wanna cum for you -Can I sir landonorris: I’ll always let you cum baby landonorris: Just licking and sucking at your pussy with my fingers so fucking deep inside you landonorris: I bet you taste so fucking good landonorris: Soaking my face and my hand and the sheets landonorris: God I’m so fucking hard

Lando glanced down his naked body draped back against his bed to where his dick was resting against his abdomen, already swollen hard and aching for touch. You were taking a bit of time to reply so he reached down to gently rub the tip of his finger up and down along the underside of his cock, watching how his gentle touch made it tense and flinch. He turned back to his phone,

landonorris: Hello? -Sorry I just had to finish myself off lol landonorris: Oh- landonorris: Like right now? -Yeah, you said I could landonorris: You listened to me? -Yeah?

Lando swelled with pride at that concept,

landonorris: Good girl landonorris: Did it feel good? -Would have been better if you were physically here -But yes -It felt really good -Moaned your name when I came too landonorris: That’s so fucking hot -Now I wanna do more -How do you want to cum? landonorris: Inside you -Again? -Dirty boy -I like it -Would you want me to ride you? landonorris: No I want to fuck you myself -Go on… landonorris: Keep you on your back and push your legs open as wide as you can get them and just hold your hips while I push my cock inside your soaking wet pussy -Oh my god I miss that baby -I miss your dick so bad

He was letting lust take over in his messages, typing with one hand as quickly as he could while his other lazily stroked his dick in careful motions.

landonorris: Nothing compares to how you feel around me landonorris: You’re just so fucking warm…so wet -I’m soaked for you -You’d slip in so easy right now landonorris: Jesus landonorris: I wish I could see your face when I’m inside you landonorris: Your pretty eyes just fucking rolling -God you’re so big too what’d you expect -I’d be fucking drooling for it -I wanna beg for it…have you tease me so fucking slowly until I’m nearly sobbing for you to fuck me harder landonorris: Will you scratch up my back again for it baby? -I’d do anything you want for your dick

Lando mouthed a swear word to his phone screen, tearing his eyes away for a moment just to look down at his fist wrapped around his cock, the one that you were so persistently fantasizing about in the next state over. His hand was useless compared to how your pussy felt and after he had that glimpse of heaven, it was difficult to go without. Your words certainly helped, even only through messages, and he stroked himself a bit faster.

landonorris: I’m so hard for you baby landonorris: I seriously need to fuck you landonorris: I want to give you all you want and more -Can you take me from the back landonorris: Yes landonorris: Whatever you want -What a pleasure dom -You’re such a gentleman landonorris: Lol just want you to feel good -I can roll over for you and grind my ass back against your cock until you push it back inside me -You’d get so fucking deep that way -I’m already moaning just dreaming about it landonorris: Then I can hold onto your hips and fuck you like that -Yes pleaseee landonorris: Fuck -Can I send a pic? landonorris: Yes -Ok but no screenshots landonorris: Promise -*you sent an image*

Lando opened the picture with furrowed brows in intense interest as to what he was about to see. On his screen was the most glorious picture of you he had ever seen, the way you looked on your knees on your bed, fully naked, bent over at the waist so your phone captured your curves in the full-length mirror beside your bed. Lando’s eyes were wide as he soaked you in, licking his lips, and tried to memorize each pixel to keep in his mind forever. He let his lust speak for him in reply,

landonorris: Fucking hell baby landonorris: You’re so fucking hot landonorris: I want to slap that ass so bad landonorris: Grab those hips landonorris: Fucking pound you until your gripping the sheets -This pussy is yours sir -My whole body is only yours landonorris: Do you want a pic of me? -Only if you’re comfortable sending

Lando had never tried before since talking to girls - yet alone engaging in sending nudes - was quite few and far between for him. But he wanted to impress you and the way you tended to gawk over his body made him feel really good and made him hungry for more. He lifted his phone camera up and angled it towards his bare body, staring at himself in the screen as he reached his other hand down to keep a secure hand around his dick, drawing attention right to it. Only slightly self conscious, Lando hesitated for a beat before sending it to you before he could overthink yet another thing.

He waited while you opened his image and he nibbled at his bottom lip anxiously when you typing bubble popped up in the bottom left of his screen,

-Fuck I think I forgot how big your dick is -You’re stunning -Every inch of you -Holy shit -I want you inside me so fucking bad right now landonorris: Me too landonorris: My hand is not the same -I have my vibrator on my clit and my pussy is fucking pulsing for you. It’s just so empty… landonorris: Jesus fuck landonorris: I’d fill you up baby -God I know you would -So well too landonorris: Fuck you until your bed is shaking -Yes sir I want it rough landonorris: Then you should beg for it -I will -I’ll gladly beg for your cock -Cry for you to beat this pussy up, spank me, manhandle me -Whatever you want I can take -Fuck me like your own little whore

Lando could hardly formulate a response as the speed at which his hand was pumping his cock had him drawing dangerously close to that sweet pleasurably precipice that anything else seemed like too much of a distraction. He held his phone tightly in his left hand, the messaging thread still open, as his legs laid spread on his bed and his right hand stroked himself off in quick messy motions.

“Oh my God.” he groaned quietly through his teeth, letting his mind whirl with his memories from your night together and his fantasies of wishing you were with him at that moment. Those thoughts weren’t odd for when he got himself off but this time it was different because even from a timezone away, you were still helping him along.

-I’m so fucking wet its dripping down my thighs -It’s making the nastiest sounds that would only be so much better if your cock was pounding me from behind

Lando’s hand gripped his phone tighter, eyes focused unwaveringly from your little profile picture and the words you sent just for him to read, a little saucy narrative of your own lust made just for him. He shakily spelt out his encouragement to remind you that he was still there and still so painfully close.

landonorris: Keep going -You’re gonna cum aren’t you baby -Thinking about my pussy is gonna make you cum so fucking hard isn’t it? -Letting you fuck me…pound your big dick into me as deep as it can go until I crying for it -Making my fucking legs shake while I scream your name into the bed sheets

Lando read each of your messages so carefully, taking in your every word and transferring it right to the pictures in his mind as a light sweat dusted across his brow. He bit his lip to try and keep himself quiet, smothering his whimpers and groans from his oblivious sleeping family members through the walls. His dick was leaking, trailing precum down the length of it and down to his balls, only slicking up his hand in it to help him pull easier strokes faster and tighter, trying to replicate the feeling of your body the best he was able to.

-Give it to me sir -Please -I miss you so bad

Lando felt as if he were tingling and he naturally thrusted up into his hand a little, whimpering quietly, dizzy on the fast rising pleasure and the warmth it spread over his body.

-Send a voice memo of you coming if you’re comfortable baby -Please -I really wanna hear you cum -I really wanna hear the way you sound when you imagine coming so deep inside me

Lando was already so close that he didn’t even think about it before pressing and holding his thumb down on the audio record button, allowing his phone to capture his every breath and every sound as he finally came for you. He wanted to come inside you so badly that he nearly cried for it, being stuck with only his own touch to work him through his orgasm. His hand stuttered around his dick as the first shot of cum spurted out and fell onto his pelvis, matching the whimpering little gasps that he let out for you in steady waves.

And he of course moaned your name breathily as he always did, letting his eyes close and his head tilt back to welcome the pleasure that overcame him. He could almost feel you right there and he was desperate to reach out and hold you down on him, aching to give you his everything right then and there. When his thumb lifted from the screen, his recording sent right to you and he watched it immediately turn to “seen” as he kept a tight cum-streaked hand around the base of his throbbing sensitive cock.

Lando’s chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breathing, his wide blue eyes peering down at the creamy white mess that streaked his hand, his dick, and dotted across his stomach and pelvis. He looked back to your chat as you sent your reply,

-Fuck Lando that was so hot -Oh my God -The way my name sounds when you moan it makes me fucking drip -You sound so pretty landonorris: Your words do things to me too landonorris: Felt so fucking good landonorris: Wish you were here too though -Me too landonorris: Did you come again yet? -Yeah lol I got myself off to your audio -It was hard not to landonorris: And you didn’t record it for me in return?? -Next time 😉 landonorris: Next time you better be with me for real landonorris: None of this texting shit -Yes sir -I agree -Really miss the feeling of you coming inside me landonorris: Fuck, me too landonorris: You’ll have to take plan b again landonorris: Right? -Of course -But that’s worth it landonorris: You’re incredible and I honestly can’t believe my luck that I can talk to you like this…have you like this -You’re a sweetheart -I feel the exact same way 💕 landonorris: Wish I could cuddle you right now -Me too 🥺 -And kiss you

Lando reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue to clean himself up, giving him a second to absolutely grin to himself. Oh how he missed you in his arms…the post-orgasm drop off was turning lust into longing quickly. He wiped up the streaks of cum from his body and his hand and disposed of the tissue in the garbage bin beside his bed before returning to your few additional messages as he turned over in bed to cuddle up tiredly.

-I slept so well with you that night I really miss that -Didn’t know I’d be missing you so much but that week after just had my mind clouded with you and every day since has been filled with wondering when we can see each other next -You’ve really somehow wiggled yourself into my heart and soul Lando Norris and idk how you managed that

It took Lando all of his self control to not tell you he loves you right then and there. He had known you for much longer than you knew him…he had to take it slowly. He had always been hesitant in facing where he stood with you but at that moment, reading your little confession, it just felt like everything was falling into place.

landonorris: You’re always the only thing I think about landonorris: And I am so grateful for you for many reasons I wouldn’t even know where to start if you asked me to -Taking your virginity? 😜 landonorris: LOL yes that especially landonorris: No one else I would have wanted it to be -I gotta say, you’re certainly not shy over text -Your confidence is sexy -Makes me want to submit to you so bad landonorris: Donttttt say that or I’ll get hard again -LOL SORRY landonorris: Tell me more next time 🫣 landonorris: Although I’m probably going to be so shy when we see each other in person again landonorris: You tend to make me nervous lol -I make you nervous?? landonorris: Yesss you’re my dream girl landonorris: Ofc you make me all nervous and shy landonorris: And you make my heart go !!!! -You’re adorable I wanna kiss the fuck outta you so bad rn landonorris: 🥰🧡 -Gotta get you to Monaco -Gotta get you in my bed landonorris: Please landonorris: I literally need that right now -I know you have another term after break but then what’s your summer looking like -Work?

Part of him didn’t want to tell the truth as to what his pathetic summer was looking like but he trust you and you were never one to judge,

landonorris: Nope landonorris: No job and living back at my parents place landonorris: It’s been three days of only winter break and I’m going fucking insane I need to get out of here -Oh my -Would you want an internship or something with my team? Idk if its possible but I can see if I can pull some strings…get you a little summer position at least landonorris: Oh my god baby I’d love that -Haha okay lover 💕 let me see what I can come up with for you -We’re gonna get you out of this low landonorris: God I miss you so much landonorris: You’re fucking incredible -Anything for you 😘 landonorris: 😘😘 -I’m still pretty jet lagged so I might head to sleep now landonorris: Ok gorgeous landonorris: This was fun :) -Hehe it really was -If we can’t wait until we see each other in person then maybe we should try a phone call next time landonorris: Fuck I’d say yes except these walls are super thin and I don’t want my parents and siblings to hear every detail about how I want to bend you over your desk and fuck the shit outta you -Fuck offfjffjjfjfjf oh my gosh landonorris: What?? -You’re making me blush go away 😂 landonorris: 😜 -I seriouslyyyy gotta sleep landonorris: Yes you do landonorris: Sleep well baby -You too 💕 I’m gonna imagine you’re cuddling me the whole time landonorris: Wish I could 🧡🧡 -💕💕

Lando laid there for a little bit, just staring at your little pink hearts with a lovesick grin on his face, still giving his heart a chance to calm down after the events of the previous hour. He scrolled back up your conversation and screenshotted the last little bit of your saucy conversation, starting from his audio recording attachment down to your shared conclusions and then he scrolled back down to your promise of a job. The two most important things to share with his best friends for when they woke up.

landonorris: *sent a screenshot* landonorris: Just made her cum twice over text so anyway how's your nights going 😌 landonorris: *sent a screenshot* landonorris: And she’s going to help me get the fuck outta this place landonorris: Get you a girl that can do both landonorris: I love her so much landonorris: I can’t wait for the day I can tell her that landonorris: Good night guys landonorris: Talk tomorrow 🧡

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cloudiewrites · 8 months

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OMG. Hiiii. I love Tom Riddle and Theodore Nott. So I am totally going to ask you if you are comfortable to write either Professor Tom or a Professor Theo x fem reader fic with smut. Feel free to ignore this but I really struggle to find Professor Tom fics and Idk how to write them 😅

Professor Tom Riddle x f!reader

Warnings: strong language, toxic behaviour, manipulation, SMUT reader is a student in the beginning (still over 18!), reader becomes a little bit unhinged towards the middle (who wouldn't after meeting TR?) 18+MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author's Note: Wow, this took me ages to post! I was having a break from this blog due to my exams, but I promise I will be more active from now on. Also, this is actually my first smut! (Idk how to write them either, so I do hope you like it.) I tried to build some plot into it, so it is not just filthy p*rn, haha. Thank you so much for your request! <3

There are moments that change your life. Moments when you realise you will never be the same and your whole existence is divided into two parts - before this, and after this.

For you, this moment was meeting Tom Riddle.

The memories of that rainy day when your gazes crossed for the first time continue to haunt your thoughts almost every second of your existence. And no matter how hard you try to forget, they become more and more vivid. Sometimes you wonder if you are actually reliving it or if it is just a fruit of your imagination.

The rain was so cold that day, that your whole body was shivering under your soaking clothes. You were running across the courtyard, trying to get inside as soon as possible. Both of your hands were clutching your bag on top of your head, trying to prevent the water from getting into your eyes. You were almost at the door when your body collided with someone, and you lost your balance falling into a muddy puddle.

You looked up, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever made you end up like this, but your words got stuck in your throat the moment your gaze crossed his.

Eyes as dark as the night. Skin as pale as the moonlight. Hair falling in elegant curls on top of the most beautiful face you have ever seen. He silently offered you his hand, before he took off his jacket and wrap it around your trembling figure.

"Are you alright?", he asked. His voice was smooth like honey, yet deep. You couldn't do anything else other than slowly nod before your cheeks turned a light shade of red. He offered you a small smirk, before guiding you inside the castle. No words were exchanged between you after that.

Looking back, you are sure that this was the moment that changed your life.

You didn't know who he was at first. He looked so young, that it was natural to assume he was your age. You have not seen him before, so he must be a transfer student, just like you were a year ago. "He did not wear a robe, so he must not been sorted yet", you said to your friends later that day and they just shook their heads. No one has heard of any transferring students this year, yet here you were claiming you have seen in the flesh the man of your dreams.

And you were almost convinced you were dreaming a few days later when you found yourself sitting in the back of the class, while he was neatly writing his name on the black board.

Professor Riddle.

"As your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I would like to establish a few ground rules right now", his voice was calm but dominant, "Always come prepared. I do not tolerate lazy students. No talking during class. No questions during lessons. If there is anything you do not understand, you can either conduct your own research in the library or visit one of my additional sessions every third Friday of the month."

Unlike you, the majority of the students have already heard of Tom and some even knew him personally, as he graduated just a few years ago. They carefully listened to all his rules, noting everything they should do to stay on his good side. No matter the house, the respect and fear felt towards Tom was felt by all students. You would lie if you said that this did not include you.

Yet in two weeks time during his first Friday session, you found yourself leaning over your notebook, while Tom was calmly explaining the lesson material to you. You were nodding your head, not paying even a little bit of attention to what he was saying. All you could focus on was the sound of his voice and the tingles that covered your whole body every time he lifted his eyes to your face, checking if were actually following.

"I am curious, miss, for the real purpose of your visit today", he said once you started packing your bag. You immediately froze in place, cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. Your trembling hands closed your bag before you turned to him with a tight-lipped smile.

"I am not sure I understand what you mean, professor."

He offered you a small smile, before grabbing his coat and briefcase and making his way towards you. Stopping just a step away from you, he lifted his hands toward your neck, making you gulp. You stood still, expecting him to wrap his hand around your throat, while his eyes burned into yours. His long fingers inched closer and closer to your skin, before wrapping around your tie and adjusting it so it could be centred.

"I am a patient and understanding man, miss", he said, his hand resting on the piece of cloth for a few more seconds, before moving away, "But I am no fool."

And you knew his words to be true. Because if there was a fool here, that was you. You knew it was wrong to pursue the foolish feelings that started to blossom in your chest. Despite the age difference being only a few years, falling for a professor was never a good idea. But how could you stop yourself when every time his eyes laid upon you there was a feeling of longing behind them? The small touches on your arms, every time he tried to explain to you the parts of the textbook you claimed "not to understand", the way his lips curved in a small smirk every time you volunteered to help during demonstrations in class, the way his gaze darkened that time he saw your friend's arms wrapped around your shoulders during dinner...

He may have thought he was subtle, but you knew there was some part of him that desired you as much as you did.

"What do you think of me, professor?", you asked one day, while sitting on the desk, arranging papers. As you were the only student who showed any interest in DADA sessions outside the scheduled classes, Tom moved the Friday meetings to his private office. They also started to happen every week, rather than once per month. And often, you were helping him with work, rather the other way around. "Why?", his gaze lifted from the papers he was grading, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. He laid his pen down, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resting his body back on his chair. You sat next to him on a smaller wooden chair, but your hands did not stop arranging the graded exams, and neither did your focus move from them.

"I am...", you took a deep breath, thinking how to phrase your explanation, "Curious, I guess."

Tom watched you with interest, noting the way that your voice trembled in the beginning. Looking up at your face, his eyes trailed every single one of your features, before stopping at your lips.

"You are a good student", he finally said, his tone flat. Your shoulders immediately slumped and you let out a quiet "Oh.", your fingers now pressing the tower of papers on its sides to make sure it is stable. The silence between you grew longer as you tried your best to hide the disappointment you felt from his answer. Tom, on the other hand, was still staring at your face, trying to read your emotions based on your pursed lips and furrowed brows.

"All finished. I think it is better if I go", you finally said, unable to sit in his presence anymore. You stood up, ready to grab your bag from the floor, when cold fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist halting you in place. Tom stood up from his chair, moving behind you. Laying his free hand on the side of your waist, he leaned towards you, nose just a few inches from your hair. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, and let out a low groan.

"What I really think...", he murmured, the fingers on your waist digging into your flesh, "is not something I shall voice out loud. The thoughts that flood my mind every time I see you are too..."

Your breath hitched.

"Too?"

"Sinful", you felt his breath on the back of your ear and your body involuntarily shivered. Before you could think of an answer, his hands left your body and he took a step back. You turned around, eager to close the distance again, but were stopped by him grabbing your shoulder and gently pushing you away.

"Do not", he warned, "do not make this harder for both of us."

"But I-"

"I think it is best if you leave."

You gulped. And the first time your eyes did not cast down in shame - instead you held his gaze, your expression hardening.

"You cannot do this to me", your voice trembled, "Toying with my feelings , then pushing me away."

He raised his brow and his hand fell from your shoulder. You stood in place, not making any attempts to get closer.

"I did not do such thing", his voice sounded low and dark, his eyes suddenly turning colder, "In fact, I am telling you now... Whatever hope you hold in your heart about anything happening between us, you should kill it now."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said", he interrupted you impatiently, "And I mean it. But whatever affection I have towards you does not change the fact you are my student."

Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your skirt and you clenched your jaw, moving your gaze towards the door. The rational part of your brain was telling you to just grab your bag and dash through the door. The other part, the one led by your heart, was screaming at you to stay and confront him. It did not take you long to decide which one to listen to.

"Why does it matter?", you snapped, "I am an adult already. And you are only a few years older. It is not illegal or anything!"

Tom let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, before running his fingers through his dark curls. He turned around and walked around the desk, before slamming his hands on the hard surface.

"Merlin, you just do not understand!", his voice was full with irritation, "I can not lose my job. I can not lose everything I have worked for!"

"We can hide it", you protested, gluing yourself to his side and gripping his bicep, "Only for a few months! Only till I graduate!"

The man tore your hands away from his arm, cupping them in his palms instead. He tilted his head, searching your eyes, which were now starting to form tears of stress and frustration.

His face suddenly relaxed. The air between you felt lighter and a new spark of hope started to burn inside of you. His finger made its way to your cheek and wiped one of the tears that started to trail down your skin.

"Is it not curious, how weak love makes a man?", his finger trailed down to your jaw, before cupping it, "And no spell in this world is strong enough to save a man that has already fallen."

Your head instinctively leaned towards his hand and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of warmth of his skin on yours. If you could only freeze time, you would stay in this moment forever.

"I don't want to be saved", you murmured and despite not being able to see him, you could feel the small smile that grazed his lips once you said it. You freed your hands from his and wrapped them around his torso, burying your head in his chest. It took a few seconds for him to embrace your body, resting his chin on the top of your head.

And if you could only see the satisfied smirk and cold gaze on Tom's face, you would have known how true his words are. There is no spell in this world that could save you not that you have already fallen...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can't say exactly when the dream had turned into a nightmare.

Private sessions became everyday afternoon meetings, where you talked about different random topics. Tom never opened up about his past, even his Hogwarts years. On the other hand, he was a good listener and without you realising it, he managed to unravel your whole family history just within a week.

His silent nature did not bother you, however. You finally had someone who listened to you. You slowly started to detach from your friends, excusing your unnatural behaviour on all the extra academic work you were taking. They were worried, but every time they tried to voice their concerns, you rolled your eyes, before running to Tom to tell him about their words. "They are just jealous of you, my dear, " he would always chuckle, gently stroking your cheek, "because you found what they would keep searching for a long, long time."

Soon, he was the only person you really trusted. And he claimed he felt the same.

This is why he couldn't ask anyone else to sneak into the Headmaster's office and get the little leather diary in one of his desk drawers. This is also why you had to find a way to get the books he was interested in from the restricted section without getting caught. This is also why you had to lure the naive fifth-year Hufflepuff into the Chamber of Secrets and leave her there.

There was simply no one else whom he trusted to do these tasks. And you gladly completed each of his requests without question, doing everything in your power to keep him happy.

But soon this was not enough. And once you graduated all the promises he made to you broke into thousand little pieces, which were discarded into thin air.

"I don't need you anymore", his cold voice said, his eyes glued to the papers in front of him, "You can leave. Make sure you close the door."

Without sparing you even a glance, he grabbed the pile of papers and left for class, leaving you to gather your thoughts and pieces of your heart by yourself.

What did you do wrong? Why did he change so suddenly? Was it all a lie?

These questions continued to poison your mind for the next few years, while you tried to rebuild yourself. You did not realise how dependent you were on him, till you were left on your own. The weight of all the unsaid feelings within you was forcing you onto your knees, making you unable to get up and continue with your life.

And this is how two years after your graduation you found your way back to Hogwarts. The place where it all began...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wooden clock on the wall was ticking dangerously close to midnight when Tom finally got to his office. The teacher's gathering has been prolonged unnecessarily due to Dumbledore's ramblings and him finding problems where there are none. The amount of control the young professor has exercised to endure this long meeting has left him completely drained of energy, but he knew he still had to do some research about the Founders' Relics. After so many years he was finally getting close to achieving his goal and he was ready to sacrifice as many nights of sleep as necessary.

He knew something was not right the moment he opened the door. The lights were still off and everything seemed to be in the exact place he left it... but there was just the faintest sound of someone breathing which made him immediately reach for his wand.

"Ah, look who finally came", your giggle reached his ears before he saw you turning on his chair, fingers moving towards the small lamp on his desk, "Terribly rude of you to make me wait this long."

Tom's lips pressed into a thin line and his grip around his wand tightened. He traced his eyes over the visible parts of your body, noting the little changes that had occurred since he last saw you.

Your hair, which was usually neatly combed and put in a bun, was now in a messy braid, the front pieces framing your face. Your lips, which usually curved in a shy smile, were now forming an arrogant, almost sinister smirk. Your eyes, which have always looked up to him full of admiration, were now staring down at him with a glint of insanity.

"Get out", he commanded, striding towards you with his wand pointed towards your head.

Your raised your eyebrows and your mouth shaped an "o" in a mock horror, before you reached for your own wand, pointing it back at him.

"Now that is not a way to welcome your ex-lover, is it?", your eyes squint.

Tom scoffed at your words, stopping at the edge of his desk, before his expression hardened.

"You were never my lover", he stated, his head tilting to the side, "And I thought I was extremely clear when I said last time I saw you that you are not welcome here."

You hummed, eyes moving to the ceiling. Still holding your wand towards him, you relaxed further into his chair, lifting your legs onto his desk. With a curious gaze, you followed the stone patterns of the walls around the room, while scrunching your face in disgust.

"3 years, Tom", you finally said, landing your attention back on him, "3 years you have been here and your office is as bland as it was when you first came here. It brings my mood down, you know? It's so grey!"

"You can leave then", Tom hissed through his teeth, making a few more steps till he stayed right in front of you. The tip of his wand rested under your chin and he pulled it upwards, making you look up, "I am giving you exactly a minute to leave, before I take your life."

A loud giggle left your lips and you pressed your neck further into his wand.

"How generous!"

"45 seconds."

You gently put your own wand back into your pocket, not moving your eyes from his. Tilting your head, your mouth formed a wide smile.

"Okay."

His brows shot in confusion, his jaw clenching. You could see his on the wand became tighter, his knuckles almost white.

"Okay?"

"Do it", you shrug your shoulders, "My ghost will be eager to see how are you going to explain why your new assistant went missing after coming to your office to drop a list of all the students that are going to be in your... our class this year."

Before you know it, his free hand flew to your face and gripped your face. His fingers dig into your jaw, lifting it dangerously close to his face.

"My assistant?", he let out a dry chuckle, "Good try, dear. And a terrible way to waste that minute I gave you."

With lips already starting to form the words of the deadliest spell, his fingers dug deeper into your face, before his eyes landed on the sparkling object in your palms. The unforgivable words quickly died in his throat and he withdrew his wand, stumbling back. Eyes full of anger met yours, who in contrast were sparkling with playfulness.

"How did you get that?", he demanded, reaching towards the object, but you pulled it back, before laying it on your head. Putting your elbows on his desk, you fluttered your eyelashes, smiling brightly.

"Do you think it suits me?"

"Stop playing around."

"You are such a bore", you rolled your eyes, "I went on a holiday to Albania. And I found this gorgeous, gorgeous diadem, which turned out to be Rowena Ravenclaw's. What are the chances?"

Tom seemed unamused by your story, instead twitching his jaw. His eyes stayed glued to the diadem on your head, the reflection of the sapphire on it sparkling in his cold eyes.

"How did you know where it was?", his gaze moved towards you, his hand putting his wand back in his coat. His tall form moved towards you again, this time taking a seat on the empty surface of the desk in front of you. With a smile, you took the diadem out of your head, twirling it between your fingers.

"You don't think you were the only one who managed to charm the famous Helena Ravenclaw, do you?", you raised your eyebrow, moving your tongue across your top lip, "You underestimate the power of women's empathy and love for gossip, Tom."

He let out an airy laugh, running a hand through his thick curls. After two years, he hasn't changed anything about his appearance. His face, his haircut, and even the suits he wore were the exact same ones he already wore when you were a student. You would lie if you said you didn't enjoy it - that meant that the Tom you loved was still somewhere inside of him. Your Tom.

"I'm impressed", he finally said, moving his hands towards his knee and locking his fingers around it. His face dropped into a serious expression once again, "Give it to me."

You tilted your head, pursing your lips. Your eyes moved to the diadem, before landing back on him.

"Oh, I can't do that, Tom", you rested your palm on your chest, looking up at him with doe eyes, "He would be very disappointed if I don't bring it back to him."

Tom took a deep breath, his upper lip twitching.

"He?", he pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, "Who is "he"?"

You twirled in his chair, pressing the diadem closer to your chest.

"My Lord, of course", you let out a giggle, resting your cheek on your shoulder and closing your eyes. You still managed to see the way Tom's body tensed, however.

"He sent his regards to you", you smiled, standing up, "If you hadn't left me that day, he wouldn't have met me and subsequently learned all about making horcruxes."

The man's eyes immediately darkened and his hand flew towards your wrist, stilling you in place.

"Name."

"Huh?"

"Tell me his name", Tom hissed, his nostrils flaring. You stepped closer to him, noses almost brushing.

"And why would I do that?", you raised your brows, your voice turning into a mocking laugh, "Do you think I would betray him... for you?"

The sudden feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward made you almost lose your balance and you grabbed his shoulder in reflex to keep you from falling on top of him. Nesting his head in the curve between your neck and shoulder, Tom pressed his lips next to your ear before muttering:

"You, my dear, are a liar", his teeth grazed the end of your earlobe, "And a very bad one."

Your whole body froze and you tried to push yourself away from him, but his arms were holding you firmly in place. Suddenly all the confidence you have displayed in his presence so far melted under the warmth of his touch, and you were left only with the hope you could still lie your way out of this situation.

"I am not lying", you protested with a quickening breath.

Tom lifted his head from your shoulder and rested his forehead on yours instead. His eyes stared deep into your own and his warm breath on your face made your whole body involuntarily tremble.

"I have already told you I am not a fool", one of his hands slid from your waist towards your arm and then hand, where you were still clutching the diadem. His fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out of your grasp with ease. Without looking at it, he placed it on the desk behind his back, before his hand found its way to the top of your head.

"I know you better than you know yourself, my dear", he muttered, his hand gently stroking your hair, "And I know there is no room in your heart for anyone but me. You would not be here otherwise."

He pulled back enough to be able to take a better look at your face. His gaze fell from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

"You are mine. Always were, always will be."

A loud whine escaped your throat before it was swallowed by Tom's mouth on yours. His plump lips were chapped, a result of hours of his teeth sinking into them, trying to hold back all the snarky remarks he had for his fellow colleagues. The rough feeling made your knees buckle and you closed your eyes, relaxing fully in his arms.

Without breaking the kiss, he turned you around and with a swift move of his hand, pushed the diadem and a few books out of the way, before laying you on the cold surface. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging the soft curls.

A low growl left his lips and he lifted his lips from yours, a trail of saliva connecting them, before it was broken by his fingers cupping your chin.

"This is what you wanted, is it not?", his voice was suddenly deeper and darker, "For me to take you on the same desk I once you graded you."

His words made a loud moan to escape you and your back arched up, seeking nothing more than to be close to him. With a low chuckle, he pressed his palm between your breasts, pushing you flat on the furniture beneath you. You opened your mouth to complain but were quickly silenced once he pushed his index and middle fingers in your mouth, almost making you choke. Fixating your gaze on his, you closed your lips around them and started to suck, making sure to flatten your tongue in the process.

The image before your eyes was something you had dreamt of countless times before - Tom, with his messy curls and parted lips, panting while the fingers of his free hand were skilfully unbuttoning his vest. You did not waste any time in helping him, focusing on shakingly unbuttoning his belt.

"So impatient", he clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, so could remove his shirt. Once his torso was in full view, you did not hesitate even a second before you lifted yourself in a sitting position and attached your lips to his neck. Nibbling and sucking the smooth skin, you started to nibble and suck your way down to his chest. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing under you.

Tom Riddle may not be a man who was capable of love, but he was a man after all. And it would be a lie to say he has never thought of you in a more... erotic way. You have always been so obedient and good, doing everything for him without any hesitation. He has always found that incredibly attractive, but not enough for him to act on his desires.

Now, however, the sight of you has ignited some primal urges within him that he never felt before. Maybe it was the few drinks he had consumed prior at the gathering or maybe it was the idea of the the crazy lengths you were willing to go in order to get back to him...

Tom Riddle would probably never know the reason for him giving up control for the first time in his life. To you, nonetheless.

His mind came back to reality when he felt you pushing him on his chair and nestling yourself between his legs. Looking up at him, you tugged his pants and boxers down, letting his erection free. You let your index finger gently caress the length of it, making it twitch. A small giggle left your lips before you repeated the gesture.

"Stop teasing me", the man groaned, and his palm rested behind your head in order to push you towards his member, but you swiftly moved to the side dodging it. You squinted your eyes, moving your hands to his thighs and digging your nails into them.

"You", the word was hissed through your teeth, "are in no position to order me around."

Tom scoffed and was about to argue when your mouth unexpectedly wrapped around the head of his penis, twirling your tongue around it. He let out a choked gasp and he tried to put his hand on your head again before you smacked it away. Swallowing his pride, he rested both of his arms on the side of his chair, bucking his hip forward.

Carefully watching his reaction you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving it down and back up again, following the movement of your mouth. The feeling of him filling your mouth was causing some saliva to start dripping your chin, but rather than pulling away, you pushed him further into your mouth till your nose was buried in his dark pubic hair. The feeling of his swollen head hitting the back of your throat made you gag, causing Tom to groan in pleasure.

"Fuck this", he muttered, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling your head up, before pressing it down again. His hips buckled in harmony with your head, making sure you were taking all of him. His dick was now coated in your saliva, making it glisten in the dim light. You closed your eyes, the lack of oxygen making them sting. The rapid pace with which he was moving was making it hard for you to breathe through your nose and you tried giving him a warning slap on his leg, which he purposefully ignored. Instead, he moved his other hand towards your chin and held your head still, while he continued to thrust his hips up and down. Sloppy wet noises filled his office, being interrupted only by his heavy breathing.

Your thighs clenched together in a weak attempt to relieve the burning ache between your legs. The way he was using your mouth to satisfy himself was making your underwear damp, yet you knew better than to touch yourself yet. After so many sleepless nights during which you tried to relieve yourself, imagining how would it feel to taste him, you wanted to focus all your attention only on him.

Feeling he was close, Tom finally pulled your head back and examined your face. Both saliva and tears were smeared all over your chin and your cheeks were flushed in rosy colour.

"What a pretty sight you are, my dear", he smiles, wiping some of it with his thumb. You licked your lips, getting up on your feet.

"And you are such a smooth talker", your face leaner just inches from his, "I wonder if you are as good with the action as you are with words."

Taking this as a challenge, he stood up and pushed you back onto the desk, before lifting your skirt. His fingers hooked under the elastic bands of your panties and with one tug they snapped, leaving you completely exposed in front of him.

Tom gulped, burning the image of your waiting arousal into his mind. His fingers made their way towards your slit, gathering the wetness before easily sliding his middle finger in. You moaned at the contact, fluttering your eyes closed. He pumped his fingers a few times, his eyes carefully observing your facial expression before he slid it out. You whined at the loss of contact, opening your eyelids only to find him smirking down at you.

"Do you really think you deserve me wasting time on your pleasure?"

"Fuck you!", you snapped, resulting in him grabbing your neck and squeezing so hard, an airy cough left your lips.

"Such a dirty mouth", he lifted your face up, his jaw clenching, "but such a weak mind. Look at the pathetic mess you are..."

Your lips parted to offer a snarky response, but your mind quickly went blank the moment he slid fully into you. Arching your back, your hands found their way around his shoulders, while his rested on both sides of your head.

Tom did not waste any time in developing a quick pace, which made you roll your eyes back. With each thrust the head of his cock was brushing against your cervix, making your whole vision white. His left hand moved towards one of your breasts, pinching and twisting the oversensitive nipple between his fingers. His other hand made his way to your pussy, where his thumb started to draw sloppy circles over your clit.

Never in your life have you felt such pleasure in your life. Of course, you had previous lovers during the past two years while trying to get Tom out of your mind, but nothing compared to this. Curling your toes, you lifted both of your legs and rested them on his shoulder.

Both of you groaned in unison when you felt him going even deeper than before. His upper body collapsed on top of yours, his lips immediately latching onto your other nipple. Still gripping his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back, leaving angry red marks behind.

The knot in your stomach started to tighten and your moans became louder and louder. Moving your hips so you can meet Tom's thrusts, you looked at his face, only to find him staring back with eyes clouded with desire. His fingers were now working faster on your sensitive bud and you let out a shaky breath: "Tom, I...", you could not finish your sentence, your vocabulary suddenly consisting only of his name.

"Shhh", he whispered, his hand moving from your breast to your cheek. He gently stroked it with his thumb and suddenly you saw in front of you the same Tom that charmed you years ago, "I've got you."

His words were enough to cause the knot to snap and your whole body went rigid, squeezing and pulsating around him. A few harsh trusts and Tom suddenly tensed on top of you, as he painted your insides white. You both held onto each other, fingers digging into soft flesh, as you melted into your shared euphoria.

It was not romantic.

It was primal. Rough. Dirty.

It was everything you have imagined.

Finally relaxing on top of you, Tom buried his head in your shoulder, trying his best to calm his breathing down. You laid under him, crushed under his weight, yet enjoying every second of the contact he allowed you to have.

Against your better judgment, you lifted your hand and started to gently stroke his hair. Against his better judgment, he allowed you to and closed his eyes in the process.

Tired from the long day and your office activity, Tom lifted you in his arms, his now soft member slipping out of you and he sat back on his chair, adjusting the backrest so you can both take a more comfortable position.

You lifted yourself from his chest and raised your eyebrow, but bit back your tongue the moment your gaze crossed his stern one, warning you not to voice whatever you had in your mind. Letting out a small chuckle, you shook your head and laid it back down on his skin.

There was an urge burning inside of you to mock him about showing gentleness, but deep down you knew this was your only chance to enjoy it. So you closed your eyes and relaxed, finally being able to fall asleep without the haunting dreams of what could've been.

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The sunlight was painting the whole room in a beautiful gold colour and Tom let out a low groan when he felt it hitting his face. His hand made its way over his eyes, shielding them from the light, while his mind slowly started to become aware of his surroundings. The uncomfortable chair was making all of his muscles ache and he immediately regretted not gathering the energy last night to make his way back to his room. The chill air coming from the window has not helped too, especially when we was only partly covered and-

Tom's eyes shot open looking down at his body and finding his suit jacket thrown over his waist and private parts. You, however, were not to be found. Not on top of him, not on the desk, nowhere in the room.

He immediately stood up, grabbing his pants from the floor and furiously putting them on, while breathing heavily. His gaze fell on the stack of books he pushed from his desk last night and he immediately fell on his knees, scanning the floor around him.

"No, no, no", he hissed under his breath, pushing his hair out of his eyes, "That little serpent!"

Not only you have left, but you also have taken the diadem with you. No matter how much he searched for it, it was definitely not here.

You tricked him.

Getting up back to his feet, Tom kicked one of the books on the floor, before slamming his hands on his desk. His breathing was hard and he could feel his blood boiling in his veins. Suddenly, his attention was caught by a small parchment of paper placed next to his quill. Unfolding it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second.

"My dear Tom,

Thank you for our wonderful night together. I did not want to leave you so early, but I had to be out of the castle before everyone else woke up. To be truthful with you, I am not going to be your new assistant. But your already knew that, so I guess it is not shocking news. I sneaked it yesterday when all of the teachers were having a party (or what you call a gathering, ha!). Neither do I have a new lord. You already knew that as well.

Do not stress about the diadem, as it is safe with me - if there is one thing I learned from you is that I need to take good care of horcruxes once they are made. I know it was probably foolish of me to bring it to you last night, as it does hold a part of my soul, but I promise that from now on I will take better care of it.

Without doubt your paths shall cross again. Remember Tom: You are mine. Always were, always will be.

Love, y/n

P.S. - I hope you do not mind that I helped myself by getting your keys from your jacket and getting a shower in your room. Also, I think you need to follow your own advice and start putting your objects away. I found your diary resting on your bedside table, so I had to take it with me. Do not worry - I promise I will keep it safe...

for now."

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CC artwork: Nasan Hardcastle

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #slytherin imagine #tom riddle smut #professor tom riddle #professor tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #professor tom riddle smut

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loving-n0t-heyting · 20 days

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read amebedkars the annihilation of caste, plus arundhati roys book-length historical preface. in honesty i prolly learned more from the latter, which is more than anything a screed against the cult of gandhi as mahatma, tho she does give the impression of a writer willing to selectively present historical facts to paint a narrative. still, its facts shes painting with, and in many cases its very hard to imagine any context that could exonerate gandhi from the relevant charges. certainly a helpful pov to finally read in depth rather than as offhand iconoclastic remarks

the speech itself i think left me more flummoxed. ambedkar is at his best when he is railing against the evils of the caste system and the implausibility of various defences and concessions made on its behalf. this is a pretty easy pitch for me tho, growing up as a westerner without any reason to be invested in the chatuvarna. its like the cagot, such an obviously perverse system from an external vantage point that it hardly seems fair to award credit for thoroughly denouncing it unless youve been raised to see it as natural. still, its very stirring as a bit of skewering, especially of the "moderate" and "reformist" casteist positions it attacks, and of the "caste-blind" socialists and liberals who ignore the internal divisions and acrimony the caste system imposes on their envisioned base

he is more compelling as a symptomatologist than as a diagnostician or prescriber/prognostician. he takes by the end what seems like a maximally anti-"materialist" view of the causes of the persistence of the caste hierarchy: the social phenomenon of caste is due entirely to vedic dogmatism, to the point that advocating social rather than doctrinal reforms (primarily: inter-dining and inter-marriage) is futile and self-defeating. this is the context for his remarks about the need to reject the authority of the shastras. this interpretation of the basis of caste discrimination is accompanied by a shocking proposed solution: a purified and democratised hinduism as a state religion, whose new priesthood and scripture/dogma are to be administered by the state itself. only thus can the plague of casteism be stamped out effectively at the root (retrograde religious beliefs)

the blow of what reads to my own usamerican sensitivities as a brand of revolutionary theocracy and state control of religion is somewhat softened by his apparent lack of ambition in implementing it. he is upfront that he thinks the kinds of anti-caste reform he is advocating are simply impossible in the face of hindu society, a demoralisation bolstered in part by a top-down view of social change on which it is only possible as guided by a societys intellectual class—which he identifies with the class least incentivised to upend the system: the brahmins. obviously i had seen ppl draw the analogy between usamerican antiblack racism and indian dalit suppression, but it had never occurred to me that the topic would invite the obvious caste analogue of afropessimism

on the topic of ambedkars predictions about the future of hindu society, its sort of interesting to place him in the context of the current ascendancy of hindutva on the subcontinent. where ive seen ppl (roy in the preface included) speak of modi and ambedkar in the same breath, its usually (when not simply whitewashing ambedkar) been to take him on board as an ally against the hindutva menace. but im not sure how well the text of the annihilation of caste supports that reading? not in terms of what ambedkar would think of modi and hindutva, ofc; its not at all hard to imagine which side he would come down on there. but at the core of much of his criticism of the caste system is its inflexibility and incompatibility with a modern, cohesive, mobilised nation state and nation-building project. a house divided against itself etc etc. on his view, the system introduced social resentments and hostilities too deep to permit a hindu identity that could effectively unite the national public. one is inclined to say: would that it were so!

anyway these are just rough first thoughts, its very much not a topic where ik a huge amount. still wanted to put them on paper for an audiencxe, just to help clarify them to myself more than anything

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matan4il · 10 months

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Daily update post:

I've seen the following headline discussed on several news sites:

And most of the discussion surrounded the issue of why are the terrorists shirtless (which takes the gold medal at the "turn a simple answer into a pointless debate" olympics. They're shirtless to make sure they're not carrying suicide vests, that they plan to detonate in the vicinity of the soldiers). What people should be noting about this, is that these armed terrorists were coming out of a hospital. It's another needed piece of evidence that Hamas has been using Gazan hospitals for their military operations. I am once again encouraging you to think about the UN, the Red Cross, the journalists reporting from Gaza, and every "respectable" human rights organization, like Doctors Without Borders, which operated in these places, and COVERED THIS UP for Hamas for the past 16 years.

Denmark's police announced that they have arrested 3 people (with one additional person arrested in The Netherlands) for planning to carry out a terrorist attack against Jews and Israelis.

Israel's top satire show continues to ridicule the inability of the world to have any moral clarity, of even the most basic kind, when it comes to antisemitism.

youtube

And that's how you could have done it, SNL.

In the same context, I watched the House debate on the bipartisan resolution calling for the presidents of Harvard and MIT to resign. Some of the arguments against the resolution were absolutely infuriating, either types of "whataboutism" ("But what about all the other things we should be doing to combat antisemitism?" Well, Karen, you can do those, too. There's absolutely no contradiction. At the same time, you say that you've dedicated many years to fighting antisemitism, and yet look at the state of your fight. Maybe holding people in position of educational power personally responsible, maybe making people see that there is a price to pay for taking Qatari money and allowing antisemitism to thrive, would make a difference, on top of those other measures that should be taken to fight Jew hatred) or just repeated, "But free speech!" (as if that line of defence wasn't obliterated during the hearing, when it was demonstrated that other marginalized groups' right to protection has been treated as superseding the right to free speech, on the same campuses where these presidents failed to define a call for the genocide of Jews as harassment, which means that not only did these universities fail to protect Jewish students from antisemitism, they engaged in discriminatory behavior towards Jews themselves).

Thankfully, the resolution passed, 303 to 126.

Here's a reminder of what Jewish students have been dealing with:

youtube

On the last day of Hanukkah, I wanna share with you this story. You might have seen this picture before:

This is the Posner family's hanukkiah. In Dec 1931, a moment before the Nazis' rise to power, and when their imminent threat is already well felt by German Jews, Rachel Posner puts this hanukkiah at the window, knowing that the Nazis' headquarters in Kiel, the German city where her husband is the community's rabbi, is situated right across the street from their home. After lighting the candles, she's suddenly inspired to take a picture of the hanukkiah with the Nazi banner in the background. When she gets the picture printed, she writes on the back:

"Judea, drop dead!" says the banner. "Judea will live forever," answers the light.

"Judea, drop dead!" was a part of a common Nazi slogan back then. It went, "Germany, wake up! Judea, drop dead!"

The Posner family heeded the warning signs, and left Germany in 1933, one of the last moments when that was still possible for Jews. The family moved to Israel, and was saved. Once established, they decided to donate the hanukkiah to Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust remembrance authority, to be displayed at our museum. The family only asked for one thing: to get to light the hanukkiah every Hanukkah. Now, museums are not supposed to say yes to this. If you donate something to a museum, that's it. The artifact belongs to the museum, you don't get to ask to use it, and in fact, for preservation purposes, it's not supposed to be used. But YV understood from the start that our museums is not going to be like other ones, and that when people donate artifcats to us, these are not just inanimate objects. These are the remainders of people who are lost, innocence that was robbed, a world that was destroyed. These are reminders of hope and life in the face of hatred and murder. And we can't take that away from people. That's why YV agrees to this type of request.

So, when I take people on a tour of our museum during Hanukkah, and go into our "German Jews room," and I show the corner where a large "window" bears an imprint of Rachel Posner's photo, I have to explain why the display next to the "window" is empty, other than a small note that reads, "temporarily removed." And why Hanukkah is the only time of the year when visitors can't see this hanukkiah.

This year was no exception. Hanukkah came, and we got the Posner family hanukkiah out of the glass display case... Except this year, after the Oct 7 massacre, things are different. The hanukkiah first traveled to Germany, where it was lit by the families of the hostages asking for their loved ones' return, and then it traveled back to Israel, and from there to Gaza, where it was lit by a great grandson of Rabbi Akiva and his wife Rachel Posner.

This is 41 years old Tal Haimi.

Tal was a third generation at kibbutz Nir Yitzhak. He's one of many Israelis, from which there was no sign of life since Oct 7, though there was an indication that they're held in Gaza (most commonly, their cell phone signal was picked up there). Yesterday, his family got confirmation that he was murdered during the Hamas massacre, and it was his body that was kidnapped to Gaza. His wife Ella is pregnant, and was documenting the course of the pregnancy for the past two months, hoping to share that with him, when he returns from captivity. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Youtube

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unangelic-thoughts · 9 months

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Forgive me...I want you. (Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader)

Summary: After a drunken mistake where you expose yourself to your aunt's boyfriend, you unknowingly start something between you beyond your wildest dreams…

Warnings: NSFW smut 18+, infidelity, age gap, masturbating while being watched, phone sex (sorta?? but more like window sex??)

Word Count: 3k

Author’s note: A specific part in this is loosely inspired by taylor swift's 'you belong with me' scene where they see each other through their bedroom windows…hehe…;)

Reblogs and interactions are most appreciated <333

I walk as quietly as I can up the stairs of the house I currently live in with my parents so as to not wake them at one thirty in the morning. Although I'm in my mid twenties and would love nothing more but to have my own place, rent is ridiculously expensive and I'd rather save up for as long as I can. Thankfully for me, I get along with them both and we respect each other's privacy - so it works.

I shut the door to my bedroom quietly, extending my hand to the wall beside me to switch the light on. I take my cross-body bag off over my head and throw it on my bed with a sigh. Running my hands through my hair, I think back to today's unfortunate events. From deciding to surprise my girlfriend on our six month anniversary, to catching her in bed with my best friend, to going from bar to bar with my sweet Angel of a cousin to try and forget it all; I am completely and utterly emotionally and physically exhausted.

The makeup I put on earlier today is patchy and smudged but I feel too numb to care. Walking into my on-suite bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror while my arms rest on either side of the sink. Black streaks of mascara cover my cheeks from where I'd been crying. I take a deep breath, grabbing a makeup wipe and take it all off.

Once I'm done with skincare, I walk back into my bedroom and pick out a clean pair of undies and oversized tee from my closet, setting them out at the end of my bed. I begin stripping from my clothes, starting with my top, then my skirt and tights. I stand up straight, my hands reaching behind my back to take my bra off when I lock eyes with Joel and I freeze.

Joel is my next door neighbour. He is also my dad's sister's husband. In my current messy state, I completely forgot to pull my curtains shut and that Joel's office literally faces my bedroom. In my defence, I wasn't expecting him to be up this late.

The initial state of shock begins to subside but neither of us has attempted to look away first. I'm reminded of the very innocent crush I've had on him since the day my aunt introduced us to him five years ago. Of course, I knew it was futile - considering the whole Joel-is-now-technically-my-uncle thing as well as the age gap thing. I never let myself think about it too seriously except for the times late at night whenever I've struggled to fall asleep. Thoughts of him laying on top of me, kissing down my neck while his hands caress my body intrude my mind more often than I'd like to admit and I feel so guilty, but I can't help it.

It feels like I've been standing there half-naked in front of my window for hours when in reality it's only been a second or two. I spot my dressing gown draped over my swivel chair in the corner of my eye and I quickly grab it to cover myself as best as I can.

When I look back at him, his eyes have fallen to the laptop in front of him and I instantly feel the loss of his intense stare. A pang of disappointment hits me, missing the feel of his eyes on me and the way it ignited a fire in my lower belly.

Desperate to get his attention, I loosen the grip I have on my dressing gown and let it fall in front me, exposing me once more. His dark brown eyes instantly meet mine again and it makes my insides flip.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, deciding to ignore the warning lights and sirens going off in my head that are telling me how terrible of an idea this is. But in this moment, I couldn't care less. I just want to feel wanted.

My hands find their way to my bra for a second time and unclasp it. I hold the cups of my bra against my breasts, a moment of hesitation washing over me but I shake that feeling away as I shake off my bra.

Joel goes very still and it feels good to know I'm having an effect on him, so I continue. My hands drop to my panties, my thumbs hooking on either side as I slowly slide them down my legs and step out of them.

I feel so empowered and in full control of the situation, which is exactly what I need right now. I turn around, grabbing my clean undies and slipping them on followed by my oversized tee. I walk to my window, wishing I could reach out to touch him but instead, I pull the curtains shut knowing I've already gone too far and put an end to whatever this is.

***

I've avoided Joel for two whole weeks since that night; not that it has been hard to do since he's definitely been avoiding me too. He hasn't even spared me a glance when we've passed by each other in our adjacent driveaways, oftentimes me going out and him coming home at the same time.

The anxiety of what I'd done was eating me up the first few days, worried that he'd tell my aunt about it. But the longer it's been, the more confident I feel that he's not planning on telling a soul. God, if anyone found out about my drunken mistake, it would completely destroy our family.

I've thought of countless of ways I could apologize to him but none seem good enough, worried it'll just make things more awkward; if that's even possible. Sometimes it's better to pretend like nothing ever happened and things will eventually fix by themselves with time. Yes...I just have to give it some time and it'll soon be a distant memory...

***

The chime of the doorbell distracts me from my current seated position on the sofa, one hand holding the book I've been reading and the other stroking my cat, Felix. I place the book next to me and cradle Felix in my arms like the little baby that he is and head to the door.

It's my aunt, Tess. "Hi hun, are you enjoying your weekend alone?" She extends an arm to rub Felix under his chin.

"Yeah, it's been nice having the house all to myself. Mum and dad won't be back until late Monday evening so I still have a couple of days of peace." I say, chuckling.

"That's great! Although I'm about to disturb that peace, but not for long. I promise! I just need a small favour." She cautiously smiles at me.

"As long as it doesn't involve screaming kids or maths, I'm happy to help." I respond lightheartedly.

"So, I ordered a couple of new sculptures of Athena and the delivery driver just dropped them off outside our door. He ran off before I could get the chance to ask him to help bring them in." She sighs.

"Oh my God, more Greek sculptures? You're obsessed! Don't you already have like 50? How do they all fit in the house?!" I say half-serious, half-laughing while I shake my head. For the past year, Tess has developed a fascination for Greek mythology and the house has basically turned into a museum of Ancient Greece.

"I know, I know." Tess replies, swinging her hands back and forth to dismiss my accusation. "Anyway, I've hurt my back so I can't lift anything and Joel needs another person to help him. Would you mind lending him a hand?"

"Yeah, sure." I somehow manage to say nonchalantly even though inside I'm screaming. The last thing I want to do is be near Joel but I can't tell Tess that. "I'll be out in a minute" I say, forcing a smile and nod my head as I step back into the house to slip into something more appropriate.

Once I've pulled my shit together and reassured myself that this isn't a big deal, I make the short walk over to their place. The door opens before I reach the steps, both Tess and Joel coming out at the same time. She places a quick peck on his lips before making her way to her car. "Just going to do some grocery shopping, I won't be long. And be careful with my sculptures!" She calls out as she shuts the car door after her.

I notice the silence between us immediately, fiddling my hands nervously. "Where do these need to go?" I ask as I point to the sculptures in front of me, desperate to be done with this as quickly as possible.

Joel doesn't hold my gaze however, and it makes me think that what happened is still bothering him. "One in the living room and one in the bedroom."

Once we've figured out how to carry the first one, we manage to place it in the living room with relative ease. The second one however is much trickier, needing to be carried all the way to the upstairs bedroom. I can feel myself building up a sweat but I try my best to keep my breathing steady. Once we reach the room, we set it down in its new spot. Not even a second later and I trip over my own foot, falling towards the direction of the sculpture. Joel is there before I know it, one hand holding Athena and the other steadying me. The feel of his arm around me feels different to any other time we've hugged, I notice.

"That was close." He says, pulling back once I've got both feet on the ground.

"It was. Thank you. Tess would kill me if anything happened to it." I exhale, widening my eyes in horror at the thought of breaking the sculpture.

"And I'd be right there with you too. She can be a scary woman when she wants to be." He jokes, an uneasy smile on his face.

"I'm sorry." I blurt out as I fix my gaze on the sculpture rather than Joel.

"Don't worry about it, nothin' broke so we get to live another day." He shrugs his shoulders as his hands rest on his hips and laughs.

"Not about that...I'm sorry about what happened that night. I was drunk and it was wrong of me." I find myself saying before I can stop myself, the guilt finally getting to me.

The grin on his face immediately drops and I brace myself for what he has to say.

"It was a fucked up thing to do and it's best that we forget about it." He says, his tone razor sharp.

"I know and for that, I sincerely apologize." His words sting even though I know they shouldn't. I mean, he didn't look away either. It can't just be all on me, he could've easily left. He had plenty of opportunity to do so.

"You put me in a really uncomfortable position. What would Tess say if she found out? What would your parents think?" His brows are furrowed together in anger and I regret ever bringing it up.

"I-I wasn't in a good place mentally and I definitely wasn't sober but I don't think it's fair to put all the blame on me." I defend, shaking my head.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "And who should share the blame? Me?"

It's my turn to furrow my brows, not liking where this conversation is going. "Well, yeah. You clearly didn't dislike what you saw. You could've left at any time."

"I think you should leave." He responds firmly, crossing his arms.

"You don't have to tell me twice." I scowl. Turning on my heal, I strut out of the room and slam the door shut behind me. Regret fills my chest, not for my drunken striptease, but for my stupid attempt at apologising to that asshole.

*** He tries to apologise to me twice this week but I blank him both times. He tells me that Tess noticed something has been off with us and confronted him about it. He told her it's because he yelled at me when I almost broke one of her statues and now I'm mad at him. That's the only reason he wants to apologise, so that everything seems normal in front of everyone else; not because he's genuinely sorry. So no, I'm not ready to forgive him that easily.

***

I'm having one of those late night closet clear outs, deciding whether my denim midi skirt is staying in the keep pile or the donation pile when my phone rings.

My breath hitches as the name of last person I thought would be calling me right now pops up on the screen. At first I think it might be a mistake, but as it rings for the fourth time, I have to decide whether to answer or ignore it.

He's never called me this late before and the curiosity takes over, so I swipe the green button on the screen and put the phone to my ear.

"Joel?" I ask hesitantly, even though I know it's him calling.

"Can we talk?" His voice low on the other end of the line.

"I'm busy right now." I reply, finally tossing the skirt I've been holding to the keep pile.

"No, you're not. I can literally see you in your bedroom." With that, I turn around and look up. Lo and behold, Joel is standing in front of his office's french doors and he's looking right at me.

"What do you want?" I ask, my heartbeat increasing tenfold.

I watch as his hand trails up his shirt, his fingers starting to unbutton it from the top.

"Tell me to stop at anytime, and I will." He whispers as I stand there completely dumbfounded.

Once his shirt is unbuttoned, he shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor behind him. It exposes his soft chest and belly, and I can't take my eyes off of him.

His hands move on to his belt, swiftly removing it from his jeans and popping open the button. He stops just before he pulls his zipper down and I feel a pang of disappointment until I hear his voice once more.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks simply, as if he hasn't just asked me such an incongruous question.

I shake my head from side to side ever so slightly, it's barely noticeable.

"I need you to use your words darlin'" He's looking at me intently and it makes me feel lightheaded.

I don't want to say it out loud but if I-

"Don't. Don't stop." I surprise myself at how sure I sound, not realising how badly I've wanted this since I exposed myself to him until this very moment.

I notice his chest contract as he exhales in relief; Like he was hoping I'd want this just as much as he does.

He continues then, removing his jeans completely and takes a seat on the chair behind him while still facing me.

"Your turn." It takes me a minute to process what he's saying. He wants to see me naked. Again. Part of me questions whether this is a prank but the part of me that has secretely wanted to do this since forever decides to push the doubts aside.

I hesitate only for a second before I remember that I've done this before and he's already seen my exposed body, and then I strip down to my underwear - just like he has.

His hand reaches inside his boxers and he begins to stroke himself. My panties are soaked within seconds. His breathing becomes shallow as he increases the speed of his hand on his member. My hand is on my breast, squeezing it hard as my thumb and index finger stroke my nipple.

"Touch yourself." He orders and I immediately oblige, my hand gliding from my breast to my soft tummy and finally underneath my panties. I hiss as my fingers touch my bundle of nerves, making circular motions. I'm already so wet at the sight in front of me that it doesn't take long for me to slide my fingers through my contracting walls. I pump my fingers with the same rhythm that he strokes his cock as I close my eyes to imagine that it's him inside of me. It feels so good and yet it's not enough, but I know that this is going to be as good as it's ever going to get. This won't ever happen again. I shake those thoughts away and decide to savour the present moment.

Opening up my eyes again, my gaze is back on Joel. His mouth is parted lightly and his eyes are half shut as his head rests on the back of his chair. His movements under his boxers become more frantic and I know he's close. It drives me to go faster and I yelp as I unexpectedly hit a sweet spot, "Fuck!"

"Keep going baby." He urges me on as he grunts in pleasure. My eyes shut tightly and I bite my lower lip, fastening my pace which causes squelching sounds from my dripping pussy.

"Atta girl." He praises, seemingly satisfied by the sounds travelling through the phone.

I whimper in pleasure as I feel the orgasm build inside of me. I stare back at Joel who lets out a "Fuck" at the same moment that I do. We both come apart together, moaning and whimpering in unison; creating a sweet melody of pleasure.

I never, in a million years, thought that I would ever get the chance to see and hear him coming undone but it's the most mesmerizing thing I've ever witnessed.

"Am I forgiven?" He asks once his breathing has returned to normal.

"I think you already know the answer to that." I say, as a smile creeps up on my damp face.

--------

Thank you for reading! I'd love it if you let me know your throughts <3 (Uuumm personally, I would jump straight through that goddamn window and onto his lap...fuckkkk)

Lots of love, Elki xoxo

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thecherrytarot · 1 year

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

what do you need to let go of?

pile 1 → pile 2 → pile 3

Pick the photo you feel the most drawn to and please remember that this is a general reading so take what resonates!!

listen to: chamber of reflection by Mac DeMarco.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:

"No use looking out, it's within that brings that lonely feeling. understand that when you leave here, you'll be clear among the better men"

You need to let go of your fear of failure and accept the fact that mistakes are meant to teach you lessons the hard way. You need to let go of your limiting beliefs that were actually set by others for you. I'm getting the message that some of you want to move out of your house because you want to explore and learn more about this world but feel like your potential is being wasted by being stuck in your known surroundings. For some of you, this could be an overly protective parent figure who refuses to let you grow up (I hope this makes sense and doesn't sound too weird) and because of this you are stuck in a dilemma where you feel suffocated by the lack of freedom but at the same time, you doubt if you could achieve your dreams. Going back to the "being stuck in your surroundings" part, some of you might have even pretended to someone else to fit in just so you don't feel lonely and left out but I feel like the majority of you stopped this cause you realized that you were losing your true self to fit in with people who don't really care that much about you, just the person you pretended to be.

You need to let go of your habit of procrastination because you are afraid of the result. You are not only afraid of failing but also afraid of succeding and dealing with new, unknown experiences. You may feel like you are trapped in a situation which is beyond your control but deep down within you, you do know that you have the freedom to do what you want to do you just don't want to take the effort for it. You are holding yourself back from being the best version of yourself. Set boundaries and stand up for yourself assertively instead of stalling confrontations against the 'higher authority" who tells you that you can't do it.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐:

"Spend some time away, getting ready for the day you're born again. spend some time alone, understand that soon you'll run with better men"

You need to let go of your habit of neglecting yourself for the sake of helping others, to please them so that they do not feel disappointed in you. You need to protect yourself and take care of yourself first and then think about others. Many of you might be the eldest (or have to act like the eldest) children who have a lot of responsibilities and do not have enough time to focus on yourself. I heard someone defending themselves by saying "But I do skin care" this is more than that. many of you could also put all your focus on how you look but neglect other areas such as your diet, mental and physical health etc. Regardless of what it is, the message is to prioritise yourself and give others the space and the freedom to grow on their own.

You need to let go of your habit of building up walls that separate you from the actual reality. You may have felt like you were born and raised in hell and now your feelings and emotions have altered your viewpoint of the world that you see. You may feel like numbing your emotions and desires you are keeping yourself safe. Many of you could use this as a defence mechanism because you were hurt in your past and are now afraid of the present uncertainties. You may feel like "if I don't bring in any change, I'll be safe" but the universe is telling you to bring in the change that a tiny part of you wants. It is asking you to stop denying and avoid changes because you are afraid that it might break the facade of your strength. Let go of the things that no longer benefit you.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑:

"alone again"

(it was so difficult for me to get the messages cause the energy felt all over the place but the first message came out strong even though I feel like it is only for a certain number. i know the song is something else but I kept hearing Swing Lynn by Harmless so take however that resonates.)

You need to let go of your obsession with love/ future spouse readings. Sometimes you do not need to know every single detail about your future to feel a sense of control over the situation, confirmation of the future that you obsessively desire or whatever the reason is. There is no harm in reading them but there should be a limit, there are times when we are not meant to know something until it has happened and the best way to manifest something is the law of detachment.

You need to let go of your habit of struggling to say "no" even in situations you do not feel comfortable (like there are two cards indicating this) You need to assert your boundaries, needs and wants with confidence. You need to be honest with yourself and focus on prioritising your actual needs. Bringing discipline and action into your life will help you achieve your manifestation a lot faster than just simply waiting for it to arrive at your doorstep. This will help you bring the balance that you have always wanted. The other side of this is, that you need to let go of your fear of consequences, you may (sometimes unintentionally) give the 'decision-making' responsibilities to someone else so that if and when things go wrong you can blame someone else instead of yourself. It is important for you to take responsibility for your own actions and use them as opportunities to grow instead of feeling stuck in your self doubt.

You need to let go of numbing yourself from the discomfort and confront it. The wisdom, freedom and power that you search in others is already in you, just have to trust yourself and listen to it and give yourself an opportunity to grow. Reflect on your shadow self and learn to face your fears.

Please give feedback <3

#tarot #free tarot reading #tarot reading #general tarot reading #pac reading #pac tarot #pick a pile tarot #pick a card reading #love tarot #future spouse tarot reading #future spouse tarot #free tarot readings

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enkas-illusion · 10 months

Text

One of Your Guys

One of Your Guys - Part 1/3

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, kissing, language, hurt/comfort, slight make out

Chapter Summary: You rant to your friend Choso about your crush and things take an unexpected turn when he confesses something that catches you off guard.

Author's Note: Hello, this is my first attempt at a short story. All characters are in their mid 20s. This is a pure cheesy, sappy, in-your-feelings vibe condensed into a 3-part story. If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading!

~ Eren's Birdie

Song Dedication: One Of Your Girls by Troye Sivan

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“I really hate to be that person but… I told you so.”

You look at your friend with narrowed eyes, fighting the urge to roll them at him. If you knew you were in for a talking-to when you called Choso over to rant about the shit-show that you call your love life, you would’ve reconsidered it.

His face shows no sympathy for his poor heartbroken friend as he leans against your kitchen counter with his hands crossed at his chest. And rightly so, why would he anyway? Afterall, he’d told you to confess your feelings to your crush before it was too late and now here you are, admitting that ‘too late’ had arrived sooner than you’d expected.

“I know but I was scared of ruining our friendship, okay?” You sigh as your shoulders slump down. He simply shrugs at you as he walks towards the microwave when it beeps. His back is turned to you and a few seconds pass as you observe him following the usual routine.

You wonder whether making hot chocolate can be fixed into one's muscle memory. In that moment, you believe it might as well be the case for Choso as he takes the hot milk out, pulling the spoon out of the drawer while simultaneously grabbing the cocoa container from the shelf above him.

You want to laugh at how ridiculous it all seems. It’s not just the ritual of making hot chocolate, but the ranting sessions along with it that have turned into a daily occurance. How many times have you made your poor friend listen to you crib about your unrequited, unnoticed love for your best friend, Satoru?

In your defence, Choso was the one who’d initially annoyed you to death to get the info out of you. The genius that he is, Choso had figured out that you liked Satoru based on the way you interacted with the latter at a common friend’s house party. If someone were to ask Choso, he would tell them that your eyes would quite literally turn into heart shapes whenever Satoru talked to you.

“I’m sure you’d understand how I’m feeling if you were in my shoes.” you add as he stirs the spoon in the mug. He stills for a split second before continuing the movement.

“Chosoooo say somethin-” you trail off when he turns around to look at you as if he’s fed up with your bullshit.

He walks towards you and hands you one of the mugs before making his way to the living room. You mutter a small ‘thank you’ as you follow behind him. When you’re settled on the sofa, you sit with your legs folded on the seat to face him as he leans back on the opposite end.

As he takes a few sips of his hot chocolate, he can see your brain working overtime to come up with a summary to explain all that you’re currently feeling. He almost finds your struggle to speak up adorable, when usually you always have 10 things to say and then some more.

“Fine, tell me exactly what he said.” Choso breaks the silence to give you an opening.

Your eyes soften with relief at his statement as you take a sip from your mug, “So… yesterday Satoru had invited me to a common friend’s house party but I had declined since I wanted to sleep the weekend away. And when I woke up in the morning, I opened Instagram to scroll a bit as usual and saw Satoru had added to his close friends’ story. I figured it’d be the usual party snaps… I was already feeling the fomo of not going so I clicked on it right away… and what do you know??? THE FIRST FUCKING PHOTO is of this pretty girl on his lap and he’s kissing her cheek. I swear it felt like my heart had dropped to my stomach.” you pause to take a few sips.

“Wait so based on a single snap, you assumed he’s dating her?” Choso frowns, visibly confused.

“No, of course not! Since Satoru often does get touchy like that with me as well, I did not want to assume so I replied to the story. I said something on the lines of ‘congrats on getting the girl big man, don’t forget about me though ahahaha.’”

This time you pause to observe Choso’s expressions and he’s visibly cringing hard. “Don’t say it… I’m aware how pathetic it is.” you pout as you fidget with a thread that’s sticking out of the sofa pillow.

Choso swats your hand away to stop your fidgeting before he gently squeezes one of your feet with his free hand that isn’t holding his mug. “Poor baby,” he teases as he rubs circles over your skin, “Go on, I promise I won’t tease you.”

“Well, he read that within seconds and I got a call from him. He sounded a bit reserved at first as he broke the news to me… apparently, they’d been talking to each other for about a month… I had no idea,” you take a deep breath as it pains you to say the next sentence, “Last night, Satoru kissed her and confessed his feelings. Turns out she feels the same way for him so now they’re together. I said congratulations and cut the call… he sounded so happy.”

You turn your face to avoid Choso’s gaze, trying hard not to let the tears slip from your eyes. He moves closer to you as he places both of your mugs on the coffee table. He pulls you by your wrists, guiding your arms around his waist as his own wrap around your shoulders. As your face rests on his chest, you start sobbing silently.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’ll pass.” he tries to console you, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“What if I don’t want it to pass? I should be happy that the man I consider to be my best friend has found such a perfect girl for himself, but here I am, wishing it were me instead. Am I a bad friend for feeling that way?” you look up at him, still teary eyed.

“No, you’re not a bad friend. Your emotions are all over the place because something unexpected has happened. You weren’t anticipating this so you’re hurt and it’s okay to feel sad. You’re here crying in front of me instead of trying to sabotage his relationship or whatever… that is proof enough that you’d rather deal with the hurt than hurt other people.” you sigh as you listen to your friend’s soothing words.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you close your eyes. Choso rubs your back gently before adding, “You’d only be a bad friend if you refuse to wipe your tears and snot off my t-shirt later. I’m not even kidding, I want this shit washed with that soft fabric conditioner you have, all crisp and ironed to perfection!”

You slap him where your hands were resting on his lower back, causing him to let out a tiny wail. It causes you to laugh for the first time after having been sad all day long.

Choso moves away, breaking the hug to create some space between as he hands your not-so-hot chocolate back to you. His knuckles rub your cheek to wipe the wet trail that had been left behind by your tears. He opens the palm of his hand to rest it against your cheek gently.

“I know you may not feel like it now, but you’re going to be fine.” he smiles as he reassures you.

You place your hand on top of his as you lean further into his touch, finding it a little too comforting. In an attempt to take the focus away from your problems, you ask him, “Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back?”

“Hmm…you.” he nods. You smack his hand away as you sit up straight.

“Choso! Be serious! You never tell me anything about your love life! You’re always joking around.” you complain.

“That’s because there’s nothing there to tell! I tell you about all the other aspects of my life cause they’re much more entertaining than my love life.” he answers with a tone of sincerity. You pout, not convinced.

He rolls his eyes at your persistence and adds, “Well what do you want to hear about? Would you rather have me talk about all the Tinder dates I fuck and never see again?”

You scrunch your face at the crudeness of his words, “Nope.”

“My point exactly… anyway do you want to watch something?” he asks as he grabs the remote. You nod as you both gulp down the remaining of your drinks. You get up and take the mugs to the kitchen to wash them while Choso scrolls away on Netflix.

When you return to sit next to him, his arm grabs your waist to pull you in closer to cuddle as he presses play. You rest your head on his shoulder as it begins. When you realise what he’s playing, you tilt your head up to look at him. “Really? Bridgerton?”

“Yeah… and season 2 cause it’s the better one. We literally have the whole evening to binge” he states, unprovoked by your almost condescending tone. You decide not to tease him about it.

Before you realise it, hours pass by and you’ve binged half of the show. As the characters were introduced, Choso filled you in on the details and it almost felt like you hadn’t missed season 1 at all. There was additional unnecessary commentary that came along with his explanation of plot points, but you weren’t complaining.

Spending time with your friend like this, where the heartache you felt this morning seemed dull in comparison to laughing at his lame jokes, is exactly what you needed to relax. You let the chatter in your brain melt away and instead focus your awareness on the present moment – a task that had almost felt impossible before you’d asked Choso to come over in the afternoon.

Cuddling so close to him, you notice the smell of his perfume is a lot stronger. You breathe in his scent, a smoky wooden smell with just a tiny hint of something sweet to it. It’s a distinctly familiar scent you’ve grown accustomed to ever since the two of you began cuddling together during your frequent movie nights. The dynamic you shared with Choso was similar to your relationship with Satoru, minus the romantic feelings you had for the latter.

Choso’s right arm rested around your waist while the other rubbed lazy circles on your knee, whereas your right hand was resting on his chest with your torso leaning into his side. And while there was an unspoken agreement that even cuddling with Choso was platonic; your flatmate, Mia, was certain that it was only a matter of time before something would happen between the two of you.

You’re grateful she’s not at home for the weekend to tease you about tonight. If she saw the two of you right now, the teasing you’d have to endure would be insufferable. You smile to yourself when you think about it.

When you get to the scene where Anthony goes feral over Kate’s scent, you joke about how you feel the same way about Choso’s perfume.

“You like my perfume?” he asks, surprised, making sure he heard you right.

“Always have.” you admit, “I know it’s oud, but what’s the sweet floral scent with it?”

“Jasmine.”

“Oh… I like it. It’s perfect, not too sweet, not too harsh.” you say, trying not to be too obvious as you try to sniff at his t-shirt. Before you get a chance to do so, he leans back and shifts his torso to lean in closer to your neck instead.

“Are you wearing any right now? I never really noticed your scent.” he speaks softly and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. You pull back instantly, feeling flustered and hot. You blink a few times before you shake your head side to side. He chuckles as he goes back to his original position, his focus shifting back to the TV.

Is he seriously oblivious to how close you two just were or does it simply not faze him at all?

You mentally slap yourself for misinterpreting his seemingly innocent actions. He leans back comfortably with one hand on top of the headrest and you shift back into his embrace. A few minutes pass before his hand behind you moves closer to caress your neck, you feel goosebumps rise on your lower spine as you move away from his touch.

“What?” he asks, confused.

Either this man is an idiot, or he’s fucking with you to rile you up.

He pauses the show to hear what you have to say. “Don’t do that. It feels… ticklish.” you choose your words wisely.

“Well, it wasn’t my intent- aww, are you ticklish?” he inquires mischievously as he raises an eyebrow. Before you can answer, he grabs one of your feet as he roughly yanks it, making your back fall flat on the sofa. You let out a shriek as he moves on top of you and cages you between his arms, ready to tickle you.

You start yelling at him to stop, laughing hysterically as he tickles you. You try pushing him away but fail to do so as his muscular figure leans even closer to yours. You have tears in your eyes from laughing and after a while, you’re basically begging him to stop.

When he finally stops, he looks at you with a smug smile of victory on his face as your laughter slowly dies down. There’s a moment of silence when your eyes meet and you get a strange feeling in your stomach. Maybe butterflies, but possibly anxiety for what your instinct tells you is about to happen.

You notice Choso’s gaze move down to your lips and you mimic him. He involuntarily licks his lips as your breath hitches in your chest. He lowers his head till your faces are just inches away from each other and he gently nudges your nose with his.

His left hand moves up to the side of your neck and he caresses your jaw with his thumb. You lift your head up at the same time when he leans down and your lips meet. His lips feel plump and wet as you close your eyes.

Who kissed who first? You wonder but all of your thoughts keep getting lost before they have a chance to rise to the surface. The only thing occupying your mind is the way his lips feel on yours, your skin burning where he’s touching you.

His right hand grips your hip to push it down further into the cushions of the sofa. His hand on your neck moves down to your throat as he chokes you slightly, as if to test the waters. He smiles into the kiss when he hears you moan.

He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. The way his tongue moves has you entranced. His movements feel languid, yet they contain enough force to convey an intense passion.

Your hands move of their own accord as they make their way to hug his shoulders. He breaks the kiss as his lips leave a trail of quick pecks down your neck. Your head tilts back to give him better access. He sucks on the spot just below your ear and your palms bundle up his t-shirt, creasing the fabric.

You moan louder than you’d intended to when he bites the spot and his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as he licks a strip up along the front of your neck. He hooks your leg that he’s holding around his lower back and presses his hips down to grind against yours.

“Fuck… Choso-,” you say, out of breath. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. He lifts his head up and his hair is all messed up, the smaller strands have escaped the bounds of his hair tie and frame his face in a way you can only describe as delicious. He kisses you on the mouth once again and you have to close your eyes shut to regain your composure.

As much as you don’t want him to stop, you know better than to let the situation escalate even further. Your hands move to his chest and you firmly place them there but don’t push him away.

Fuck. About time you tell him to stop.

You move your head to the side as you try speaking softly, “Chos-”, but he grabs your face to turn it back to him and bites your lower lip, continuing the kiss. You’re pretty sure he can feel your wetness as he grinds his hips, pressing against you. You groan at how good it feels.

You kiss him back, pulling him impossibly closer by his t-shirt. He pulls your bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing it. “Fuck… baby, you feel so good,” he groans as his hand pulls your t-shirt down and his face moves to your collarbone to leave another hickey.

“Ahhh… Choso, please,” you moan at his touch. He comes back up again as he stares down at your neck, proud of the light mark he knows is going to turn dark purple later. He kisses you on the lips once again.

Before your desire wins over the rational part of your brain, you press your hands firmly to his chest. He leans back a bit as he understands what you mean. He reluctantly moves away from your face but his hands still hold you in place. His eyes look hazy and full of lust. By the way he looks at you, you’re certain yours don’t look any different either.

So much for not wanting to fuck up another friendship.

“We can’t...” you mumble, but clear your throat to speak up clearly, “Choso, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he retorts softly, his thumb moving across your bottom lip. You sigh as you grab his wrist to remove his hand. He moves his hand through his hair to push back the stray strands as he sits back up to create space between you two.

For a split-second, you find yourself missing his warmth before you sit up straight to look at him. You envelop his hand into yours and you hold it like that as he waits for you to speak up.

“This feels strange… I don’t want to make you feel as if I’m just using your body to get over Satoru. It already feels like I’m gonna lose him as my best friend, I don’t want to lose you too…” you trail off as you lower your head with shame.

“What if I didn't mind you using me to get over your stupid crush?” he replies. It was the last thing you’d expected him to say. Your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at him.

“I think it’s pretty evident that I have a thing for you,” he continues as he looks down at his crotch. Your eyes follow his and you can see the imprint of his hard on over his sweatpants. You look away quickly, not wanting to ogle at the sight.

“It’s just your dick talking…” you almost whisper, not wanting him to hear your accusatory tone. He pulls his hand out of your grasp before running his fingers through his hair once again in frustration.

You know you hit a nerve when he groans slightly as he speaks up, “Far from it… I’ve liked you for a while now. But you’re so blinded by your crush for that blue-eyed snowflake fuck that you can’t see anyone else. Least someone who can treat you far better than he does. Anyone can tell that you have a crush on him… Satoru knows, your eyes tell, he just conveniently ignores it. I’m not sure why you’re so crazy over him but it hurts me more than I'd like to admit when all you care about is Satoru this, Satoru that. Fuck Satoru! What the fuck is it going to take for you to finally see me?”

You’re speechless. Your brain feels like it has stopped computing altogether.

What the fuck?

Even if you want to say something, you fall short of the right words. Your lips part to speak but close again. Choso notices this and his jaw tightens. He mumbles a ‘be right back’ as he gets up abruptly and makes his way towards the washroom.

You’re still sitting in your place when he returns after a few minutes. The edge of his hairline is wet but he’s dried his face. As if washing his face had washed away his agitated state of mind, he looks more composed now.

“Choso..” you get up quickly and walk to him.

“It’s getting late, I better leave. I’m sorry.” he interrupts you. He turns away from you and walks towards the apartment door. You follow behind him quickly as you call out his name again. He knows how much you hate leaving things hanging in a limbo till the next meeting.

He turns around and cups your face with both his hands. They’re cold now. His eyes meet yours as he speaks, “It’s okay… I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that. You’re going through your own shit. I shouldn’t add more onto it.”

He smiles and leans down to kiss your forehead. You try speaking up but he interrupts you once again. He does not want to give you an opening. He wants to leave things in a limbo tonight. He wants to remember the way your lips felt and not let it be overshadowed by your rejection that came after.

“We’re okay,” he presses and you know he’s not going to listen to you tonight. “Goodnight.”

You put your hands on top of his to hold them in place when you sense him pulling them away. He moves them away regardless and instead squeezes both of your hands. His touch feels so different from how it was just a few minutes ago and you want to cry.

You can’t help but feel as if you’ve ruined your friendship and you feel him slipping away. Maybe you’re being a bit dramatic but he’s being so formal and indifferent that it almost makes you feel sick.

“Hey,” he stops your train of thought, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

No, please stay. You want to say but you don’t dare to. You can’t… not with everything that just happened.

“Goodnight.” you force a smile at him and he squeezes your hands once more before leaving.

You stand there, staring at your closed door for a good few minutes before you turn the TV off completely and retire to your bedroom. Every single scenario and all the endless outcomes play in your head but above everything else, Choso’s confession of his feelings for you plays in your head on loop like a broken record.

You’re still unsure of how you feel about it as you fall asleep an hour later, still thinking about him. You hope in desperation that come morning, you’ll be wiser at deciphering the mess of your emotions a bit better.

MDNI banner: @benkeibear

#erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsukaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso #choso smut #choso x you #choso jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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writefightandflightclub · 7 months

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Four (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, some smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Ooh I really hope you enjoy this one! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. I so love to hear your feedback and chat more about this story! ILY :-*

Word count: 5.3k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

The rest of the evening passes in much the same way as the rest. You rejoin the group out front, Benny injecting some much needed fresh energy into the pack. He regales you all with tales of his most recent fights, delivers excruciating detail about his latest training regimen, and proudly shows off pictures of his new puppy.

“Why am I looking at a picture of you, Miller,” Frankie jests as he holds up the screen to reveal an adorable golden retriever.

If anyone notices that Santiago seems quieter than he had earlier in the night, they don’t say it. If they realise that you are engaging in very purposeful, overblown interest in Benny’s chat, it doesn’t get called out. There are a few exchanges between the two of you and Santiago that simulate old patterns. Lend weight to the pretence that things could even return to normal between you and him, given a little more time.

Still, every time your eyes glance off of one another there is this intolerable heat, and you find you still can’t meet it head on. At times, your gaze is dropped hastily into the sand. At times, your eyes needle Frankie pointedly so that he might come to your aid, even if he does simply shrug and clasp the neck of his bottle a little more tightly.

You know Santiago. And in a sense, contradictory as it may be, the hardest thing is how easy it would be to fall into your old patterns. Eventually, you begin to wonder if this tension and this awkwardness -this disconnect – is simply manufactured, in a way. Your heart’s tactic to keep him at arm’s length. A defence mechanism, because you ran away from a whole continent and yet you still fear ending up right back where you started if you can’t extricate yourself from him.

At some stage, you tire of the beer-addled chat, and especially of Tom. Even more so of the effort of trying to make everything feel normal, whilst at the same time fearing what might happen if you could actually achieve that. What it would mean. You announce to the group that you’re going to take a long soak in the tub, and you head upstairs to the main bathroom, languishing in the sweet-scented bubbles, and attempting to wash the burdens of the day from your body, along with the gathered sweat and sand and smoke. Of course, you seem entirely unable to scrub this urge humming beneath your skin.

When you eventually emerge there is a hush over the house, a cocooning darkness in the hallways – and you realise that at least some of the group must have retired to bed already. You’re tired, sure; but you’re still a little buzzed and not sure that you could sleep yet. You certainly don’t like the thought of staring at the ceiling, thinking about who might be lying awake too on the other side of your wall.

“Hey. Cat. Everyone gone to bed?” you ask Frankie softly as you see him round the stairs to the landing in his socked feet, his footsteps purposefully softened.

“Yeah, chiquita.”

“Already? Such old men,” you snicker gently. “What the hell happened?”

Frankie’s subdued throaty chuckle cuts pleasantly through the dark. “It was a long drive,” he defends playfully; then, his tone shifts, an injection of caution evident. It puts you on edge. “Pope’s still out there though, if that helps.” Frankie must feel you bristle, as he raises his palms in the air in surrender. Or, more than likely, absolving himself of any responsibility. “Do with that what you want.”

“Mmm-kay,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, and, from the sidelong glance Frankie throws at you, you know he isn’t buying it for a second.

“You two okay? Something happen in the kitchen?”

A flare ignites under your skin. You remember a different kitchen entirely. Not the one downstairs. Instead, you recall the hot, close air of the Colombian night. The flash of cool metal against your flushed skin as Santiago pressed you back and-

“-It was fine,” you lie tersely, and before Frankie can wheedle anything further out of you, you quickly hook your arm around his neck for a distracting, albeit halfhearted, goodnight hug. “’Night, Cat. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” With a grunt, he offers a quick, friendly kiss to your cheek, his scruff tickling up against you.

“Yeah. G’night,” he returns, looking as tired as he probably feels. And, as you part ways in the hallway, Frankie watches with resigned interest at the fact you don’t similarly retreat to your room. That instead, you shuffle onward towards the mouth of the stairs. “Don’t let the Pope’s bite.”

And then, with Frankie’s nonsensical and yet somehow apt warning ringing in your ears you head downstairs, meandering through the quiet house until you reach the exterior.

You are arrested in the doorway at the thought of experiencing Santiago alone all over again, but at the same time, that is exactly the thought which propels your feet over the threshold and out into the balmy night air.

You find him there, stretched out on his back in front of the dying embers of the fire, knees folded and pointed up to the sky. An orange glow is cast over the contours of his chest where his button-down shirt now falls completely open, the wire of his headphones snaking down and around his torso. He looks peaceful like this at first. Relaxed and loose, his chest rising and falling soporifically with his breath. His eyes are closed and he has his headphones in his ears, his fingers gently drumming and tapping where they rest against the softness of his bare stomach. Your eyes follow his happy trail, until the thatch of hair disappears beneath his shorts, now tugged tight over his thick thighs.

You note the appealing cushioning around his middle forming rolls as he shifts marginally - to better prop his head up on a second cushion. He looks beautiful. Tranquil, at first glance.

That is, until you see him tug in a huge breath, his ribs flaring with it. Until you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose before letting out a slow, sad exhale.

You know in that moment that you should without a doubt turn around. That you should go right to bed, even if that does result in staring at the ceiling for hours with the image of his gorgeous body seared into your mind. But, you can’t do that.

Instead, you already know exactly what you’re going to do. You’ve known since before you came downstairs.

Truth be told, you’ve known since before you came to the beach house at all. You’ve known since your new fella asked you to be exclusive and you said “no”. You know, because you don’t know what’s good for you.

“Santiago,” you say to announce yourself. “Mind if I join you?”

He pops a bud from his ear and opens his eyes. Somehow, he doesn’t even look surprised to see you standing there.

He blinks at you wordlessly for a moment. He could say no, of course, but you know that he won’t.

Because he doesn’t know what’s good for him either.

He doesn’t respond to you at all in words. Instead, he rises, shifting to the corner of his tartan blanket, arranging himself cross-legged with a groan. He pats the opposite side invitingly, gesturing for you to join him.

You hesitate. The setting, down on the sand on that measly square of wool, seems already far more intimate than the looming camp chairs had.

“Warmer down here,” Santiago encourages, as though reading your mind through how well he can read your body, evident tension snaking through your limbs. “Come and get comfy.”

Okay.

You hunker down, both legs folded to one side and your weight propped on the opposite arm. You take in the setting for a moment. The beach, shrouded in a blanket of dark. The sound of the waves shushing, and the gentle crackle of the fire.

It would be calming, if the silence between the two of you wasn’t so taut. Still, you know Santiago will shortly reach to fill the silence. He always does. You don’t even have to wait all that long.

“Good to see that Benny’s still… as Benny as ever.”

“Yeah. Good to see some things never change.” You look at his lips.

“His latest training regimen sounds pretty brutal, huh?“

“Uh huh.” Your eyes trail wantonly down his torso, and it’s not lost on you that he sucks his stomach in a little when your gaze drops to the soft rolls of him there. You’ve never seen a whiff of insecurity on the man before now. He’s confident as a rule - or so you thought. It’s appealing though, the softness of him. Sexy. You want to tell him that, but you don’t. Instead, you simply allow the soft smile to radiate over your face unfettered, your eyes warm and fond.

“What are you listening to?” you nod down to his phone, headphones still strung from it and one bud remaining in his ear. Wordlessly, he passes you the spare bud and you slot it in, allowing the droning sounds to wash over you. Voices talking, and smatterings of financial and investment jargon. You quickly get the gist of it, and just as quickly relinquish the bud back to him.

Your nose wrinkles. It’s not what you were expecting, honestly. “Financial podcasts?”

He tilts his head to the side. Looks suddenly as old and mature and serious as you’ve ever seen him. “Gotta think about the future sometime, right?” He says it lightly, but even so, you are somewhat hurt by it. Hurt that he’s never managed to envisage any kind of future with you.

“Right.” You nod, as neutrally as possible.

He looks at your mouth.

You note the brief fleet of pink tongue along the swell of his pillowy lower lip.

You both let the silence hang there for a moment, full of possibility, and again, you know he will fill it. After all, you made it clear, right? You told him: don’t. Even if you want precisely what you asked him to deny you. “Did you see that documentary about the octopus on-”

“-I can’t get off anymore without thinking about you, Santi.”

You interrupt him, and his jaw hangs slack for a moment, his eyes bugging out of his head as he fully registers your statement. Apparently, you don’t want to talk about Benny. Or podcasts. Or fucking octopi. You don’t want to fill the silence with meaningless chat.

With Santiago, it had always meant something. You don’t want to stop that now.

You let the words fall into his lap, and you aren’t even sure what reaction you were expecting. Therefore, you don’t even feel any particular type of way as you watch the multitude of emotions and stunted responses play out one by one across Santiago’s features. “Jesus, honey,” he eventually croaks.

Then, his second-hand embarrassment finally jars you too. In a delayed flush of self-pity, you bury your face in your hands. “Fuck. How pathetic is that?”

Santiago’s agape mouth finally closes then, a hard swallow bobbing down his corded neck. Your own self-deprecating laugh finally causes his face to split into a bemused and tentative grin. It is short-lived, however, his thick brows quickly drawing down. “You know. You’re giving me fucking whiplash over here, cariño.”

“Shit. I know. I’m sorry. I just…” You tug your knees up to your chest for whatever comfort it can offer. “Honestly? I don’t want to talk about Benny, or whatever else. I love the guy but I… I missed you. I missed you and I just want us back. I want us to be okay, you know?” Santiago’s face twists in a mirror of your own, as if he doesn’t even know how possible that is anymore. “And, I don’t know how else to do that anymore – to make us okay - without… without that. I don’t know how to stop wanting you.” As you keep talking, your voice seems to break into a thousand pieces, as if sand in your throat is grinding it down, eroding the body and timbre of it away. “I try. I try, Santi, and it… I never…”

Your name rises from his throat, and the sound is tired in his mouth. He knows what you’re asking him; and he doesn’t even seem surprised. “It’s a bad fucking idea.”

“I know.” He’s not even wrong. “I know it is, but I… I don’t care anymore.” Emotion weighs down your tone. Makes it heavy. “It’s like a wound in me - the way we left it - and I just need…” Your eyes flicker and flit everywhere as you reach for the word, dancing around the scene, around his face, like the licking, greedy flames.

You can’t find the word, the concept, the sentiment, but, as you search, Santiago’s voice filters through to you, certain and resigned. As though he understands perfectly what you crave after the wound that he left that night. “You need healing.”

Your head whips towards him and you nod slowly, with conviction, searching his face for any sign that he might give it to you. For any sign that he might be able to repair you. He had hurt you, yes. But his fire was so hot that you think he is the only thing capable of cauterising the wound he left in his wake. The only one who can ignite you enough to heal you, as selfish and misguided as your desire may be.

However, Santiago’s demeanour remains calm and cool even in the face of your desperation. You see only a vestige of desire dancing in his eyes now, as though all you had might truly be in the past. “You wanted out, remember?” he says thinly. With regret. He smiles even thinner than that. “No need to repeat your old mistakes, huh?”

“I wanted out of that life, man. You were never a mistake.”

“Heh. Don’t be so sure. If you know what’s good for you-“

Unconsciously, and with ill-timing, you shift on the mat in discomfort, rolling your spine to try and release some of the niggling, tight muscles – another old injury which continues to plague you long after the fact.

“Still got that damn tweak?” Santiago asks, seemingly grateful for the diversion.

You nod. “Mmm.”

“Want my fingers?”

You look into his eyes, mellow in the dancing light. How could you say no to that? “Please.”

“Come here then,” he encourages, shifting position to the edge of the porch step, his thighs spread wide apart and leaving space for you to settle on the sand before him. “Let me help you,” he insists, tipping up his chin, and his eyes softer and brighter again.

You hesitate, but you can’t find it in you to decline the invitation. Can’t possibly find the strength to say no to his hands on you. To some relief, even in this form. “Turn around. Back to me, hermosa.” His voice is soft, so soft. Rough and undone around the edges like this frayed edge of land you perch on.

You settle before him, and, just as he had promised, his fingers and his hands begin to inch over your body, on top of your clothes, seeking to unravel the knots. To bring you some relief. He used to do this for you all the time – always took care of you like this, and it’s bittersweet to recall a different, more innocent way his hands used to touch you. He would do this for you after training. After a mission. In the field. At the mouth of your tent when camped out in some desert or field or jungle. In the back of a Humvee on the way to the F.O.B.. At Benny’s fight nights when you’d had to sit in those shitty plastic chairs for too long. Whenever and wherever you needed it.

His hands always knew how to fix you, long before you learned all the ways they could take you apart like a weapon in his palm. “Santiago,” you keen, as the pad of his thumb works into all your sweet spots. You don’t know what his name is in your mouth. A plea; a promise; a prayer; a poem. Perhaps all of these at once.

“I know,” he soothes. “I know, cariño.”

You close your eyes against the sudden tears you find threatening at the corners of your eyes. Knowing his touch again is everything you wanted, and, despite yourself, you are eminently glad it is happening like this. That he is giving, instead of devouring you, for if he did the latter, you don’t know that there would be anything left for him to take.

His touch like this though, deft and tender, reveals that perhaps, there’s another way. That maybe, instead of burning you, Santiago could merely warm you. Maybe his flames only hurt because you had dared to get too close. Maybe you could simply learn to stay at arm’s length, where he had always attempted to keep you anyway.

Still, that’s all very well, but… his touch - as it skims down your body - is enough to subsume you. It is a tide swallowing hot shores. It is a relief. A balm. Healing.

“You’re so tight,” he complains gruffly, and you wonder if he is simply being careless, or whether his words were chosen ever so deliberately to remind you. To remind you of him praising you for that very same thing, under other circumstances.

Regardless, Santiago shifts then, shuffling his hips closer towards you. His thighs -either side of your torso - boxing you in a little more tightly. Then, he braces one hand carefully against your shoulder, the other digging and kneading into your knotted muscles at the spot he always knew how to help you with.

You moan for him, willingly, as he takes all your tension and melts it like butter.

“Santiago,” you keen, and there it is again. A promise; a prayer; a poem.

A plea.

You hear him swallow thickly. Hear him exhale a sound like sea trapped in a seashell, his face dipped closer towards the shell of your ear in this new position. His breath continues to quicken as he manipulates your body, pliable under his sure hands, his warmth practically coiled around you like the fire around its fuel.

“Do you want my fingers?” he repeats, voice now flecked with grit, even as he remains slow and languid, not whipped into any frenzy. “Tell me.”

A stone plummets through your belly, sinking heat through your core at the mere suggestion he might touch you there too.

“Mmmph,” you plead – a strangled affirmative wrung from your chest, and Santiago’s hand reaches around, calm and slow and tantalising. He winds his arms between your legs and his index finger trials along the seam of your shorts, up towards your clit like he’s following a carefully laid fuse line. Like he knows precisely how to detonate you, and all he needs is a spark. “You want my fingers here?” he purrs, and you moan his name, throwing your head back into the crook of his shoulder. “Want me to help you like this too?”

You submit an unintelligible string of sounds to the air, which you hope he recognises as an affirmative.

“Sssshhh,” he soothes, as his fingers deftly flick open the button of your shorts and you squirm in search of his friction. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you, cariño.”

You sigh out a broken, guttural noise now, rolling your mound against his palm as his girthy fingers travel eagerly below the waistband of your clothing. Barrelling towards your want without dwelling on the implications even for a moment. On what this might mean. On what this may fix or further fracture.

It is too much to think about that, and it is enough to know that you need some relief.

Specifically, the kind of relief you have not been able to give yourself. The kind of relief you have not been able to find from elsewhere. The kind only Santiago knows how to give you. The only kind Santiago knows how to give you.

“Fuck. You’re soaked,” he praises, all rusty-voice and practiced fingers, and with the ease that the thick pads of him glide through your folds you know it is true. “Holy shit, come here.”

You would oblige if you were not so loose-limbed already; and so, in the next moment, Santiago is dragging you up towards him, settling your ass in the space before him on the porch step, so you sit a little higher. He is shucking your shorts and panties down and hooking your thighs over his parted, sturdy legs to spread you wide open. To give him better access to you so he can give you what you need.

Your hands clamp down on his thighs like claws, your back flush against his chest and your head still languishing in the apex of his neck, feeling the steady rhythm in his shoulder as his arm reaches between your legs. With his other arm he simply gathers you up and holds you close to him, until the warmth of his skin seeps right through to yours.

“Fuck! Santi,” you keen, voice ragged with need already as his fingers tease and circle where you need him. “More. Please, I need more.”

He does not disappoint. He plunges a girthy finger into your heat, and the lack of resistance is telling, your cunt opened up and eager for him as the heel of his hand rocks a steady rhythm against your clit. He goes slower than you would like, but it turns out to be the exact pace you need -two fingers now- dragging molten heat through your core with each curl and pump and scissor he applies to your giving walls.

“Ohhhh. Fuck!”

“I know, baby. This is what you need, isn’t it? I know.”

He does. He does know. He knows every damn inch of you and how to make you sing.

“That’s it. I’ve got you. Don’t come, Princesa. Not yet.”

That’s easier said than done. Especially as his rough voice - all honey and grit - filters into the shell of your ear. As the fleck of his stubble rasps against your neck as he sucks an angry mark into your skin. Your core flutters in straight-out defiance of his orders then, and he feels you clamp down on him, tightening around his fingers. “Ah ah,” he scolds. “Hold on to it for me. Gonna get you there. Don’t worry. I got you.”

Christ, you slosh around him as he makes you molten, and you feel his thighs begin to shake beneath yours. You feel his insistent hardness pressing at your back. “Fuck, princesa. I missed this pussy. Holy shit.”

“Santi. I- I can’t hold on.”

His thumb massages circles into your swollen, needy clit.

“No, baby. Hold on for me. I know you can, huh? Don’t even think. Let me give you what you need.”

“Mmmphhh,” you moan out like a woman possessed as Santiago builds you up.

He chuckles darkly into your neck, and smothers his spare palm over your mouth. “Shhhh. Quiet, hermosa. No-one else can take care of you like this, huh? I got you now.”

The way he’s touching you, fingers speared inside your wet heat, is everything you’ve needed for so long. God, you’ve so needed him to help you like this. And now, he’s finally giving you relief. It’s welcome, and it’s good; but you still have enough about you, even in this state of becoming putty in his lap, to realise that he’s not giving you everything. You turn your head, tipping your lips wantonly up to him, but he won’t kiss you. His arousal presses insistently at your lower back but he isn’t making any move to get himself off. It seems obvious, even in this state of coming undone, that even as you lose yourself he won’t allow himself to get lost in you; not entirely.

He’s navigated some extreme terrain in his time, but perhaps his feelings for you really are a jungle far too dense for him to navigate.

Still, you certainly do not feel any lack, even if you get the sense he is holding back. It would be hard to feel any lack at all with his thick, warm fingers buried in you up to the knuckle, stroking and curling with precision against your swollen arousal, coaxing hoarse moans from your lips which he buries in the meat of his cupped palm. The pad of his thumb rubs haphazardly -almost roughly- in circles over your clit, puffy with need. Your thatch of hair is soaked, and your plumped folds are slick with your pearly, moonlit juices.

“Holy fuck,” you rasp as Santiago’s fingers draw a broad circle deep inside your walls, stretching you open and sending a delicious spiral of bliss through your core. He curls his fingers against your g spot, rocks his palm roughly against the mound of you, and God, it’s so good. You’re on the edge, but you still find you can’t quite let go.

You don’t need him to give you everything, but you do need him to give you just a little more of what you’ve been craving. Just a little more healing.

“Santiago,” you plead, tears of emotion and bliss and disbelief and sadness balling in your eyes. Relief at the fact you get to feel his touch again, and despair at how long you may next endure the lack of it.

However, as though he senses what your body is telling him, that you are getting far too in your head by now to let go, you realise Santiago knows exactly what you need to get out of it. He always does. Always knows how to help you. “Mmpph,” you moan as he wraps his hand more tightly around your mouth and nose, playing with your air supply - just enough to provide a gentle thrill. To offer this simulation of a loss of control just long enough that you feel a secondary surge of adrenalin and arousal building within you. You gasp as he releases his palm and you suck his fingers easily into your mouth, wanting to feel full of him wherever you can. He obliges by shoving them deeper, over your tongue.

“That’s it,” he praises, soothes, encourages, feeling it coming before you do, reading the signs in your body. Almost immediately, pleasure blooms out from your middle, completely engulfing you.

You screw your eyes shut tight and you can barely even focus on his fingers pulsing in and out of your wet, suckering heat, or on this string in the middle of you being drawn so tight it’s about to snap. Instead you focus on him. On the warmth and sturdy form of him at your back. On the way he knows just how to touch you – where, and when, and how. The way he soothes you and relieves you. The familiar scratch of his stubble against your cheek. The soft, sweat-tacky rolls of his bare stomach cushioning your back, skin-on-skin where your t-shirt has ridden up your back. His meaty thighs. The familiar press of that hard promise up against you. But most of all his warm, sandy voice, slipping into the shell of your ear like the sounds and shushing of the sea.

Hermosa. Cariño. Princesa.

His words melting out of you like liquid pearls and making you shine.

He praises you, and the sounds of him slip inside you just like his fingers, a smooth glide like the surge of the tide devouring an aching shore. His touch relieves the ache, the burn, the fire, the hurt, as you find your release. You gush over his hand, your mouth open with a hoarse, hollow moan, silently echoing the roar of the sea as your whole body becomes liquid on top of his.

He holds you, and he works you through it, tears squeezed from your eyes with each wave of bursting, engulfing pleasure which radiates through your core – not blistering like the heat of your fire, but gentle and soothing.

Your breath is ragged now. You have the feel of a tide between your legs.

You are sated, and yet you want more of him. You may feel healed in some ways, but your whole body still sings for him like a wound.

He stays inside of you. Feels you for a moment, with a shuddered, satisfied moan you feel vibrate against your back before he draws his fingers out, painfully slow. You shudder too, your core still fluttering for him, and you would reach for him if you weren’t still boneless. Would seek to satisfy him too.

“Fuck. I missed your fingers,” you purr.

“Uh huh,” Santiago says, a little too morosely for your liking, and he unslots himself far too quickly from around your form. Far too quickly he comes to standing, leaving you feeling cold and alone on the porch stairs, shorts shunted down past your knees, exposing you to the night air.

“Don’t you want… something for you?” you ask in confusion, in hope, eyeing the bulge tenting at his crotch and the way his hand is hung curled at his side, his fingers still shined from you. You enjoy all of that, but you certainly don’t enjoy the heaviness bedding down on his brow, and you reach to pull up your shorts as quickly as you can, the moment of relief fast-retreating, like the deceptive tide.

“No,” he says firmly. “That was just for you.”

You bristle at the implication in his words, your momentary bliss falling quickly away.

He did you a favour.

You were the one undone by your desire – your want. Not him. You were the needy one who couldn’t be without him. Couldn’t even get off without him. And damn. Here he is, slow and controlled and, for the better part, seemingly unaffected.

You know that’s not wholly true – that he does still want you, but your eyes still swim when you wonder if his desire is subdued compared to what it used to be. If it has lessened.

Don’t you cause this frenzy in him anymore? This quickening, like he does with you? Is the flame burning in your chest -or your loins- not catching, any longer? Like the dying embers of this fire, is it almost out?

Could there truly be an end to this?

Soldiers. Friends. Lovers.

What next?

You had, at least, assumed something would be next.

And so, as you regard him, stoic and impassive, you can barely even look at him. “You’re right, Pope. This was probably a bad fucking idea.”

Of course it was.

You should know better than to think you can take a piece of him without wanting to devour the whole. After all, you could never see him in fragments – only all at once.

Had that always been your mistake, thinking that he could ever give himself over to you completely? He’s far too afraid of getting lost, even if he does hold the map to your heart in the palm of his hand. Strange then, because the palm of his hand is also where he has become so accustomed to yielding a weapon. Maybe for him, love and pain were always destined to feel the same.

You push past him, and you feel a pit open up in your middle.

“Goodnight, buddy,” you say, your tone surprisingly sour so soon after that. “Thanks a bunch for the fingerfuck.”

You guess the mindfuck came along for free.

You don’t want to hurt him. Don’t want to be bitter and to deepen this gulf between you all over again. But, apparently, you just can’t help yourself.

You don’t know what’s good for you.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #oscar isaac #ride or die series

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deancasbigbang · 11 days

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Title: Searching for a Rainbow

Author: thefastestqueeralive

Artist: morla

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Claire Novak/Kaia Niaves, Jody Mills/Donna Hanscum

Length: 20000

Warnings: No warnings applicable

Tags: Bar AU, Bartender Dean, Depressed Castiel, Dad Castiel, Hurt/comfort, Office sex

Posting Date: October 23, 2024

Summary: Dean Winchester runs a cosy pub in Lebanon, Kansas that welcomes any and every sort of patron. He’s good at his job, he knows he is, and Dean prides himself on how he’s built this bar from the ground up, turning it into the successful business it is. One that can support not only himself but enables him to send money back home to his father to aide in paying the bills. Castiel Novak, looking for a new place to drown his recent sorrows, stumbles in one night and catches the eye of the handsome and charming bartender. When the blonde barkeep won’t take no for an answer, Cass has no choice but to accept the offer of a shoulder to cry on, an audience of one to listen to his pity party. Dean discovers he never needed to fear how his family would react to news that could alter one’s perception of his character. He is presented with opportunities to grow and occasions to celebrate, but before he can fully enjoy himself, he has to accept his truth. He leans on friends before family while he struggles to come to terms with who he truly is, but after he succeeds, Dean is rewarded richly with happy days on the horizon. Castiel learns how to grieve, how to accept loss, how to open himself up to new possibilities and learn to share his life and his love. He is thrust into a life changing situation, one where he is suddenly a parental figure with no prior experience in the field, and worst of all he has to deal with teenage mood swings right off the bat—no cute gurgling and baby babble to soften the coming blows. Set in the perspective of the homely tavern, Rocky’s Bar, witness two grown men and their vast (and complicated) families support one another through good and bad, thick and thin.

Excerpt: “Got this great IPA from Austin—Cosmic Cowboy. You’re gonna love it.” Castiel hears the bartender say when he steps inside. The man listens to the conversation between barkeep and patron as he drips his way over to the bar, footsteps heavy. When he sits himself on the endmost red stained leather stool, the sodden length of his trench coat slaps wetly against the wooden legs of the seating. Castiel grimaces at the noise, heard only by himself beneath the hum of chatter in the public house. The bartender, who’d introduced himself as Dean a few nights back, focuses his attention on Castiel now. “Hey again! What can I getcha?” The man’s chirpy demeanour grates somewhat on Castiel, who silently nods toward the tap in front of him. He’s been coming to this same bar for the past week straight now, ordering the same on tap lager; coincidentally the very one Dean was just selling to his previous patron. Alcohol isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, Castiel knows. It’s just… He’s having a hard time as of late, and this seemed the least destructive way to deal with his problems—at least in the short run. It’s merely something he’s using to help him through some recent issues and then he’ll go back to being a very casual drinker. In his defence, it’s not like he’s getting completely and utterly shitfaced every night—just enough to feel lighter, to feel the weight leave his shoulders and allow him a deep enough sleep that he won’t have nightmares. Castiel doesn’t know how to deal with loss, how to cope with the newly gaping hole in his chest. A few beers a night seemed the easiest and cheapest solution to forgetting his sadness; he worries if Social Services found out he was attending therapy or counselling that they wouldn’t see him fit for the role of parental figure/guardian. A glass slides its way in front of the rain soaked man, snapping him from his musings. “Penny for your thoughts?” comes Dean’s perky voice once more.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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starlightshadowsworld · 6 months

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Bsd except Francis adopted Atsushi. It was originally for Fyodor's plans and his own to find the book.

But as time went on Francis grew to care for Atsushi as his son.

The day he fled with Atsushi and disbanded the Guild was the day Francis saw what Shibusawa was doing to Atsushi.

Atsushi spent the next years growing up in a modest cottage on the outskirts of Yokohama. It was sometimes lonely but his parents were always around and Atsushi loved them dearly.

Zelda was very protective over Atsushi. He was her sweet boy, her light in the darkness. She taught him how to play piano, how to map out stars.

Her darling daughter was everything to her and so is her dear son.

Francis adored him, he taught him how to shoot and self defence. He encouraged Atsushi's love of reading and always bought him a treat whenever they went out.

Both of them were concerned about Atsushi getting a job at the Agency. Especially after hearing how he met Dazai.

Money wasn't an issue of course but both agreed Atsushi couldn't stay inside with them forever. And he really wanted to join the Agency.

Learning about the Presidents ability definitely helped. Prior to that Atsushi spent full moons in a large old barn with his father nearby.

Things went okay for a while, Atsushi was happy and visted home often. Telling his parents about his friends and his adventures.

And while, they were concerned at times they were happy for him. That was until news Atsushi had a bounty came out and it was set by the Guild.

Now Atsushi knew about the Guild. Francis had told his son everything after they left. Even the original reason for his adoption, feeling nothing but guilt and remorse.

To his suprise Atsushi just hugged him and said he was glad because now he knew for sure his dad really cared about him. He hugged him back "I do, I always will."

So news his old organisation was trying to kidnapp his son angered Francis immensely. And hell hath no fury like Zelda Fitzgerald, Francis she was going to kill Fyodor herself.

What a woman.

Atsushi was terrified and his parents reassured him no one was going to dare take him from them.

Francis decides to meet with Fukuzawa, knowing the Agency are investigating this and wanting to help any way he can.

"Apologies, but given this concerns one of our members I'd prefer if everyone was present. Is that alright with you?" Asked Fukuzawa and Francis nodded, taking a seat.

"Of course, it's good to know my son has made such good friends."

"Wait this is about your son?" Asked Dazai making Kunikida sigh loudly. "Dazai, did you not listen to me earlier?!" Dazai grinned widely "nope."

Before Kunikida strangle him, Francis snorted and both turned their attention to him. "So you're Dazai, that definitely explains a lot. And you must be Kunikida."

He went and pointed out each member, correctly identifying them from his sons descriptions. And well, he'd met Kyouka a few times because Atsushi bought her over for dinner.

She waved at him and he waved back.

"And I leave the best for last, my dear boy Atsushi." Atsushi ducked his head "daaaaddd not infront of my friends." But they both knew he didn't mean it.

"Ohhh do you're Atsushi's father" Said Dazai as Kunikida facepalmed. "That I am and proud to be" Said Fitzgerald before becoming serious. "The organisation known as the Guild was one I lead for a number of years."

He told his story, how he went in search of a guide only to find a child. One that wormed his way into his heart and how he'd fled with him.

"I dont know Fyodor's plans, but whoevers running the Guild now is definitely working with him. His organisation is the Rats in the House of Dead."

Kunikida was writing this all down. "Does anyone in your previous organisation keep in contact with you?"

"There's Alcott, Poe as well." At that Ranpo looked up, curious. "That wouldn't happen to be acclaimed author, Edgar Allan Poe would it?"

Francis nodded, suprised he figured it out. "Friend of yours?" Ranpo smirked "something like that."

The meeting soon came to a close, everyone promising to keep Atsushi safe and Francis hugged him goodbye. "He's in good hands" Said Fukuzawa when it was just them.

Francis nodded "I know, I just..." He watches Atsushi smile and laugh with his friends. "I lost one child, I can't bare to lose another."

"And you won't" Said Fukuzawa, something about that made Francis believe him. "If you find the bastard know my wife has dibs on clubbing him in the head."

Fukuzawa chuckled "I'll remember that."

Elsewhere Atsushi shows his friends a picture of him and his parents.

"... So Atsushi are you in need of another father?" Asked Dazai with a smirk. Atsushi beat Kunikida to the punch and shook his mentor fiercely.

"Dazai if you ever ask my mum to commit double suicide with you. I will burn your signed copy of the complete guide to suicide."

"Ah! Not my darling, alright alright I won't."

#bsd #bsd fitzgerald #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #Bsd zelda #bsd dazai #bsd ranpo #bsd kunikida #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs

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soon-palestine · 2 months

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HP hewlett packard

HP-branded corporations provide and operate technology that Israel uses to maintain its system of apartheid, occupation and settler colonialism over the Palestinian people. Hewlett Packard’s violations of Palestinian human rights have been well documented. Aside from providing services and technology to the Israeli army and police that maintain Israel’s illegal occupation and siege of Gaza, HP provides Israel’s Population and Immigration Authority with the exclusive Itanium servers for its Aviv System. This system enables the government to control and enforce its system of racial segregation and apartheid against Palestinian citizens of Israel, and is directly involved in Israel’s settler colonialism through its “Yesha database”, which compiles information on Israeli citizens in illegal settlements in the occupied Palestinian West Bank.

HP has been described as the “Polaroid of our times”, a reference to huge mobilisations against the use of Polaroid technology by the South African apartheid regime for its racist passbook system. Polaroid’s 1977 withdrawal from South Africa marked a turning point in the international effort to end apartheid there.

HP-E is contracted by Israel’s Population and Immigration Authority to provide and maintain the Itanium servers that house Israel’s population registry through 2020. Known as the Aviv System, this population registry is the basis of Israel’s ID card system. This ID system forms a core part of the Israeli apartheid regime’s tiered system of citizenship and residency that privileges Israel’s Jewish population and gives inferior status and rights to Palestinians, especially those in East Jerusalem. This leads to institutionalised racial discrimination and segregation in freedom of movement, housing, employment, marriage, healthcare, education, and policing. This discrimination is further exacerbated in the case of Palestinian “residents” in occupied East Jerusalem, whose most basic rights can and are being revoked arbitrarily.

The system also holds information about Israeli citizens living in illegal settlements in the occupied West Bank, therefore serving Israel’s settler colonial project directly. HP-E’s spin-off DXC Technology runs an R&D facility in the illegal settlement of Beitar Illit.

In 2015, HP split into HP Inc.- which carried on the brand name and provides consumer hardware, and HP-E for business and government services. In such a scenario, the BDS National Committee maintains that: “The onus is on each company to demonstrate to the public that it is free of illegal and unethical business activities.” Further, despite multiple requests for clarification, both the new companies sharing and profiting from the HP brand are yet to provide unambiguous evidence to show that their business activities with Israel do not violate International Humanitarian Law and Palestinian Human Rights. HP has, in the past, held a contract with the Israeli Ministry of Defence under which it developed and maintained the Basel System- the biometric identification system installed on checkpoints in the occupied Palestinian Territory, controlling the mobility of Palestinians. It also worked with the Israeli military, helping build its IT infrastructure. This included a program with the Israeli Navy which enforces the illegal naval blockade on Gaza. For these and other past ties of complicity with Israel’s occupation, apartheid and settler-colonialism, HP-branded companies must provide reparations to the Palestinian victims of these crimes.

https://bdsmovement.net/boycott-hp#tab3

#BDS #HP #HPE #palestine #free plaestine #gaza

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regulusblackslover · 2 months

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The Whispers will be our Undoing

Regulus Black x FtM Reader x ???

Chapter I

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

Summary: The strange curiosity of a muggle born wizard terrible at most magic and Regulus Black of the everlasting house of Black as well as another tragic face fall in love and overcome the challenges of the Wizarding world

Read TW’s and Author Note Here

Word Count: 1.175k

Regulus Black had sworn to never love, not after he so desperately watched his parents hate each other to the point where their hate spread to him and his brother. And it didn’t help Regulus’ mind that his brother had abandoned him for some boy who didn’t even reciprocate his affections. With that Regulus had despised the shows of affection he received, being in his 4th year of Hogwarts he had received countless love letters, confessions, and the endless abundance of stares with giggles. To say he hated it was an understatement, each letter he burned with “Confringo” and each confession he scoffed and mocked the speaker till they in most cases ran away crying or furiously stomped away. As for the stares he couldn’t do much about it but it helped to be friends with fellow slytherins and those of pure-blood supremacy which he did not stand for but at least spared him from his parents disappointment. He had even made it to advanced potions and professor slughorn's infamous slug club. While none of his friends, which had been a small number, had made it into the slug club with him, he had at least two acquaintances of which there was Severus Snape who was a year above him and Theodore Nott who was in his year. As well as the unfortunate presence of Lucius Malfoy who he had a strong intolerance for but kept it to himself out of fear for the male. Then there was you, he had hardly noticed you at first not until there had been a debate on Gamp’s Laws of Elemental Transfiguration and the argument that was being presented and debated forgot a crucial piece of information in which it was so niche that none of them had noticed until you had spoken up. You neutrally yet somehow confidently pointed out the crucial fact causing Malfoy to scoff and further deliberation take place. That is the first time Regulus had noticed you. From there you seemed to pop up everywhere from in the Slytherin common room to his charms class, to Defence against the Dark Arts, to potions. Regulus didn’t mind your presence but just felt it was odd and so he started to observe you. He noticed how you rarely talked to anyone, only a couple words with Severus Snape who seemed at least like a friend to you but on a very low level. Furthermore he had noticed your lack of magical ability, your tremendous lack of magical ability to his surprise, you could barely cast a spell, yet you were a genius in magical theory and excelled in magical creatures and potions. You were an enigma to Regulus Black. So much to a point that he slowly decided to move closer to you. It first started by him moving across from you in potions, scaring away some Gryfindor who had been flirting with you, it then led to him making brief small strictly occasional conversation at the slug club meetings. Months had passed and he slowly crept closer to you. He had found out a couple things, one you were born to muggles and were from a strictly muggle line the first wizard in your family, two you had wanted to work at the ministry of magic and revolutionise their way of interacting with muggles and work to undermine pure-blood supremacy and then retire to be a professor he then saw what made you a slytherin, three you had a pet kneezale that you had disguised as a cat and affectionately called Link who was very protective over you and seemed to be in love with Regulus, and four you had loved to read into the depths of the night below the glowing windows of the slytherin common room. And Regulus had learned one thing about himself and that was that he loved to be in your presence.

You and Regulus had formed a habit of sorts every sunday night at midnight when most of the Slytherin house was sleeping off their drunkenness from their weekend partying, you and Regulus would meet up in the common room and sit in the pair of chairs in the farthest corner that's only light came from the large church light windows that glowed. Then you would read you each had your respective book and you would sit in silence enjoying the others company and your novels. What either of you failed to realise is that sometimes one of you would stop reading, your eyes wandering to the other and a stare that could only be described as one filled with fondness watching the others slight reactions but moreover you would snap back to your own book. What neither of you would acknowledge is the fact that either of you only got through a couple of chapters when both of you knew you could easily get through full novels during that time.

From there you slowly talked more, of course only in places in which you both would go unnoticed so as to not ruin his reputation(your words not his). Places such as the furthest corner of the library, and small notes during classes became your sanctuary. Soon enough you considered him a friend and a close one at that. Many times while his friends would choose to go to Hogsmeade he would lie claiming he had unfinished homework or other various tasks of course his friends were unconvinced that the Regulus Black was behind but they let it slide anyway. Those times you could freely walk around Hogwarts as it was a ghost town that's when the two of you got to rejoice. You got to spend the majority of the day together and neither of you had any objection to it.

Regulus was always astounded by you, you who were so mortal that he feared everyday you would shatter and you would be snuffed out. He was raised in the noble house of Black, he lived in the Noble house of Black, and there they believed in immortality, that they were better than mortals, by the will of their pure blood and being a wizard they were not bound to the same laws of time and death which was true in many many ways. Afterall many great wizards lived past the average muggle lifespan but you, you who were from muggle parents, were terrible with magic, and had no interest in living longer than nature intended you to( a conversation that made Regulus infuriated). For those reasons you seemed to Regulus the definition of mortal and for that he feared for you as what he deemed from a friends perspective. You however were astounded by Regulus, the boy who had such warmth and love but who acted quite frankly like a cold hearted prick who couldn’t give a damn about anyone. You feared that the light that shone from him may be snuffed out at the hands of the society he was a part of. Of course this is what you believed from a friend's perspective.

Thank you for reading <3

#x male reader #Male reader #x ftm reader #regulus x male reader #regulus x ftm reader #Regulus x reader #ftm reader #regulus black #regulus black fluff #x male reader fluff #X male reader angst #We believe the marauders were bullies in this household #fuck jkr

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kckt88 · 6 months

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The Lost Dragon IV - Harmonize.

Summary:

In the aftermath of her failed escaped attempt, Vaelys seeks to make amends with Aemond.

On Dragonstone, Rhaenyra recieves news of her daughter and makes the wrong assumption.

Warning(s): Angst, Mild Fluff, Threats, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Spit Kink, Oral Sex (F-Recieving), P in V, Multiple Positions, Voyeurism, Aegon Being a Twat, (Wrong) Assumptions.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 3970

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated

As Aemond's heavy footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, his grip on Vaelys' arm tightened with each stride.

His wife stumbled beside him, her eyes wide with fear and desperation, a clear indication of her failed attempt at escape.

Vaelys' heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to keep pace with Aemond's furious strides.

The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air with unspoken words and unvoiced accusations. Aemond's anger burned like wildfire, fuelled by the betrayal he felt at Vaelys' attempt to flee.

But beneath the rage lurked a deep sense of hurt and disappointment, a gnawing ache that threatened to consume him whole.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the echoing sound of their footsteps against the cold stone floor. Vaelys dared not speak, knowing that any words she uttered would only serve to further enrage her husband.

Finally, they reached the door to their chambers, looming before them like a silent sentinel. With a forceful push, Aemond flung it open, dragging Vaelys inside with him.

Once inside, Aemond released his grip on Vaelys' arm, but his eye remained locked on hers, burning with a mixture of fury and sorrow.

"You said you chose me”.

Vaelys recoiled slightly, her own eyes brimming with tears. "I do choose you, Aemond, but-"

"But what?" Aemond interrupted, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why did you try to leave me?”

Vaelys swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor "I miss her, Aemond. I miss my mother. I miss the sound of her voice, the way she would hold me tight when I was scared”.

Her words hung heavy in the air, the weight of her longing palpable in the silence that followed. Aemond's features softened, his anger giving way to empathy as he reached out to gently brush away her tears.

"I'm sorry, Vaelys," murmured Aemond , his voice filled with remorse.

Vaelys nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions "I just-I just wish she were here, I wish she could hold me one more time, tell me that everything will be alright."

Aemond pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she wept softly against his chest.

“I might pretend to be brave, but I-I’m scared of Aegon, of what he might do" confessed Vaelys her voice muffled slightly as she pressed her face into the leather of his jerkin.

"Your safety means everything to me, and I swear on my life that I will protect you, no matter what” replied Aemond.

The silence was shattered by the sudden entrance of Aegon, his presence filling the room with an aura of authority and fury.

His eyes blazed with a fiery intensity as he fixed his gaze upon Vaelys still wrapped in Aemond’s embrace.

"VAELYS" roared Aegon, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You dare to attempt escape from the Red Keep? You dare to defy the King of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Vaelys recoiled at the force of Aegon's wrath, her heart pounding in her chest as she braced herself for his inevitable retribution.

But before she could utter a word in her defence, Aemond tightened his grip around her.

"It's not her fault, Aegon," Aemond declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within him. "She didn't know-she didn't know that Erryk was posing as Arryk"

Aegon's brow furrowed in confusion, his anger momentarily tempered by surprise. "What are you talking about, Aemond?" he demanded, his tone demanding an explanation.

Aemond took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from Aegon's steely gaze. "Erryk, he disguised himself as Arryk," he explained, his words carefully chosen to deceive Aegon and protect Vaelys from his wrath. "Vaelys thought it was Arryk who came to her, not realizing the deception until it was too late".

Aegon's expression darkened with suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Aemond's words for any hint of deceit. But as he looked into his brother's eyes, he saw only unwavering determination.

After a tense moment of silence, Aegon's features softened slightly, the fury in his eyes giving way to a begrudging acceptance.

"Very well. But make no mistake, Aemond. If there is even a whisper of disobedience from your wife again, there will be consequences."

Aemond nodded solemnly, his relief palpable as Aegon stormed out of their chambers, leaving them alone in the wake of his fury.

"Why did you lie for me, Aemond?" asked Vaelys, her tone laced with uncertainty.

Aemond's eyes softened as he met her gaze, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Because I love you” he confessed, his voice tender and sincere. "I would do anything to protect you”.

Vaelys' breath caught in her throat at his words, her heart fluttering with a mixture of disbelief and longing. "But-why?" she questioned, her voice trembling with emotion. "We haven't been married for long, and our families-their on opposite sides of a war."

Aemond reached out to gently cup her face, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Because my love for you has always been there, Vaelys," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "Even when we were children, and our families were divided by conflict, I couldn't shake the feeling that you were meant for me."

Tears welled in Vaelys' eyes as she listened to Aemond's heartfelt confession, the weight of his words sinking deep into her soul. "I never knew," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I always believed that you thought I was annoying".

“You were annoying, still are actually. But now, with everything that's happened, I realize that life is too short to keep secrets. And I want you to know, Vaelys, that I will love you no matter what” confessed Aemond.

Vaelys smiled as she tightened her grip around Aemond’s body, her fingers digging into the cool leather.

"Vaelys, write to your mother. Write to her, and I will send it” said Aemond.

Vaelys looked up at Aemond, her eyes shimmering with gratitude and longing.

"You would do that for me?" whispered Vaelys, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Aemond nodded, his expression unwavering. "Of course," he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "Your mother deserves to know that you're safe, that you're loved. And I will do everything in my power to make sure she hears from you."

Tears welled in Vaelys' eyes as she surged forward and pressed a firm kiss to Aemond’s lips, her heart overflowing with gratitude.

"Thank you," murmured Vaelys, her voice choked with emotion.

Aemond squeezed her hand gently, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "It's my pleasure, Vaelys," he assured her, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Now go, write your letter”

Vaelys sat at Aemond's desk, the quill in her hand poised over the parchment as she carefully crafted her letter to her mother.

As she wrote, Aemond watched from where he was sitting, his gaze filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Vaelys set down her quill, her letter complete. She rose from her seat and made her way to the drawer where Aemond kept his writing supplies, intending to return the ink and parchment to their rightful place.

But as she reached for the drawer, her eyes fell upon something unexpected – a stack of papers tucked away in the corner. Curiosity piqued, she pulled them out and gasped in astonishment.

It was a collection of drawings that she had made as a child, images of knights and dragons and fantastical creatures that had once filled her imagination.

And as she flipped through them, she realized with a start that they were the very drawings she had given to Aemond all those years ago.

Tears welled in Vaelys' eyes as she looked up at Aemond, her voice barely above a whisper. "You kept them," breathed Vaelys, her heart overflowing with emotion.

Aemond nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Of course I did," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "They reminded me of the little girl who stole my heart all those years ago”.

Without a word, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his in a desperate, passionate kiss.

Aemond was taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but he responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Vaelys, and pulling her close.

"I want you-” muttered Aemond.

“-Then have me”.

Aemond hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Vaelys watched as Aemond spat on her cunny.

His singular eye quickly looking at her before he lowered his head and pressed into Vaelys’ core with his tongue.

Vaelys clutched the bedspread above her head, her fingers digging into the fabric.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core, licking at her pearl with his tongue. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Vaelys ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“That’s it come for me baby-” urged Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Vaelys’ inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Vaelys.

Aemond rose from the floor, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth savouring the delicious taste of his wife.

Aemond moved up Vaelys’ body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the peaked rosy nipple.

“Oh-“ gasped Vaelys.

“Issa jorrāelagon-Issa glaeson-ñuhon” growled Aemond as he seized Vaelys’ lips in a ferocious kiss, his hard cock throbbing against her thigh (My love-my life-mine).

Aemond wrapped a hand around his cock and slowly ran it over Vaelys’ wet entrance, she began squirming impatiently against him as he continued to tease her.

“P-Please, I want you” exclaimed Vaelys desperately.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond as he slid inside her with a singular thrust.

His hips resting against hers.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Vaelys.

"Patience, issa dōna" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up Vaelys’ neck (My sweet).

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaelys

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.

“Gods, Vaelys" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond. Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me. I-I want your seed-give me a babe”.

Aemond groaned loudly, knew exactly what his wife was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. She wanted faster, he was going much faster now.

His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips. Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Aemond lifted Vaelys’ legs onto his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock into her soaking wet cunny.

Vaelys folded her arms above her head as she moved her hips, meeting Aemond thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaelys.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

Aemond could feel the tension in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

Not even waiting for her orgasm to fully subside, Aemond moved Vaelys’ legs off his shoulders and manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Vaelys, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside Vaelys once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelys.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

Vaelys took one of Aemonds hands that was on her hip and brought it towards her head.

Knowing what his wife wanted, Aemond placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face into the mattress, her back arching. His cock reaching deep inside her as he moved with such ferocity it could rival an animal, his long silver hair unbound and sticking to his sweaty back.

Aemond then grasped both of Vaelys’ arms and held them behind her back as he pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

Her screams of pleasure muffled by the mattress.

“Fuck. Vaelys-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He took hold of Vaelys’ hair, twisting his fingers into the messy silver braid before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held Vaelys tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

One hand grasped her hip, his blunt fingers digging into her flesh. Whilst his other released her hair and moved to her throat, squeezing gently.

“Give it to me please” pleaded Vaelys her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside Vaelys.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from his wife’s wet heat and propped himself up against the headboard.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Vaelys breathlessly.

“Ride me baby” replied Aemond as he pulled Vaelys on top of him. His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

“Oh” gasped Vaelys as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on Vaelys’ hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelys dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelys as he sat up, moving his hand to her breast again and taking her nipple into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Vaelys’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her third climax approach, if her husband’s face had been sculpted by the gods themselves, then his cock had been given to him by the devil.

It was sin incarnate and Vaelys was ready to let it claim her fully, her husband had possessed every fibre of her being and she revelled in it.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her vision going white as she came around his cock.

Her husband threw her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he pounded into her, her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping his body against hers as he chased his own end.

“God. Vaelys” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed, collapsing on top of his wife, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.

Meanwhile his wife was laid underneath him completely blissed out. Her heart pounding in her chest.

“I love you ābrazȳrys” whispered Aemond as he slowly pulled his softened cock from his wife and flopped onto the mattress beside her (Wife).

The pair of them completely oblivious to the pair of amethyst eyes that were watching them from the secret passageway.

“I must say well done to you brother-“ said Aegon.

“What are you going on about?” asked Aemond.

“Your wife-she was such a timid thing on your wedding night-crying as you stuck your cock in her, but now she takes it like a whore”.

“How do you know that?” retorted Aemond his cheeks tinged pink.

“Secret passageways-I was actually sneaking out to visit one of my favourite whores, when I heard the two of you-I must say I’m impressed, fucking her like that. I didn’t know you had it in you” laughed Aegon.

“You filthy wretch-“ snarled Aemond.

“Now-now brother. Remember that I am the King, and I could have you punished for laying hands on me” snarked Aegon.

“You disgust me” said Aemond.

“I did consider that you wasn’t enough for her, I mean how desperate must she have been to try and escape, suppose I shouldn’t really blame her, you can be quite dull” said Aegon.

“She didn’t-“

“Oh, please how stupid do you think I am, she tried to escape, and you lied for her. My brother ever the dutiful one, reduced to a cuntstruck-“

Aemond seized Aegon by his tunic and slammed him against the wall.

“You ever spy on me and my wife again and you’ll regret it” growled Aemond.

“Touched a nerve have I brother?” laughed Aegon as Aemond released him and stormed out of the room.

Vaelys and Helaena strolled through the lush gardens of the Red Keep, the fragrant scent of flowers filling the air as they wandered along winding paths. The gentle breeze played with their silver hair, carrying with it the soft melody of birdsong and the distant murmur of a nearby fountain.

Suddenly, a delicate butterfly fluttered into view, its wings painted in vibrant hues of blue and gold. With a graceful dance, it circled around Vaelys before landing gently on her outstretched finger, its delicate legs tickling her skin.

As the butterfly took flight, Princess Helaena's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to Vaelys, her hand reaching out to gently clasp hers. "Vaelys," she said with a mischievous grin, "I have an idea."

Vaelys glanced at her curiously, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What is it, Helaena?" she asked, unsure of what her friend had in mind.

"Let's summon Aemond to the gardens," Helaena suggested, her smile widening. "I have a feeling he would want to share in this moment."

Vaelys' heart skipped a beat at the mention of Aemond's name, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "But why, Helaena?" she questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Helaena's smile softened into a sweet, reassuring expression as she squeezed Vaelys' hand affectionately. "Trust me, Vaelys," she said gently, "You'll want to sit down for this."

With a nod of agreement, Vaelys allowed herself to be led to a nearby bench by Helaena, her mind racing with questions and anticipation.

Moments later, a guard arrived at their side, his expression curious as Helaena instructed him to fetch Aemond to the gardens without delay.

As they waited, Vaelys felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her stomach. Helaena noticed her discomfort and offered her a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Vaelys,"

Before Vaelys could respond, the sound of footsteps approaching drew her attention. Aemond emerged from the foliage, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Helaena?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What's going on?"

Helaena's face lit up with excitement as she turned to Aemond, her eyes shining with joy. "Aemond," she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement any longer, "Vaelys is with child.”

Aemond's eye widened in shock, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the news. For a moment, he was speechless, overcome with a flood of emotions – joy, disbelief, and overwhelming love for Vaelys and their unborn child.

As the weight of the moment sank in, Aemond crossed the garden in quick strides, dropping to his knees beside Vaelys and enveloping her in a tight embrace. "Vaelys," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm going to be a father."

Aegon sat upon his throne, his expression a mask of smug satisfaction as he received the news of Vaelys' pregnancy. It was no surprise really given the frequency in which his brother would spill his seed inside his wife.

Aegon’s eyes gleamed with malicious delight as he listened to the messenger's report, relishing in the opportunity to wield his power over his older sister.

"Ah, excellent news indeed," Aegon declared, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Inform my good sister that I will be sending a letter to Dragonstone at once, informing her of this joyous occasion."

The messenger hesitated, sensing the thinly veiled malice in Aegon's words. "But Your Grace," he ventured cautiously, "The Princess has requested that the news be kept quiet for now.”

Aegon cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Nonsense," he scoffed, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "It is my duty as King to ensure that Vaelys’ family is informed of such matters. After all, the news of babe is something celebrate”.

With that, Aegon dismissed the messenger with a flick of his wrist, his mind already racing with plans to use Vaelys' pregnancy to his advantage. As he leaned back on his throne, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he relished in the thought of the chaos his announcement would sow – and the power it would grant him over his sister and his uncle.

Rhaenyra sat in her chambers, her hands trembling as she read the letter from her brother, Aegon. Her heart sank with each word, each line delivering a blow to her already fragile emotions.

Tears welled in her eyes as she absorbed the news of Vaelys' pregnancy – a bitter reminder of the cruel fate that had befallen her sweet girl.

Forced to carry the child of the man who had abducted her, Vaelys' plight weighed heavily on Rhaenyra's heart. The thought of her beloved daughter suffering such a fate filled her with despair, her mind reeling with a mixture of grief and rage.

As Rhaenyra clutched the letter from Aegon, her mind flashed back to another letter – one she had received from Vaelys not long after her marriage to Aemond. In it, her daughter had reassured her of her safety and happiness, claiming that her marriage was a blissful union.

But even as Rhaenyra remembered the words penned by her daughter's hand, doubt gnawed at her heart. Daemon had been the first to voice his scepticism, his instincts telling him that the letter had been coerced, that Vaelys' words were not her own.

Even with the inclusion of Avy jorrāelan naejot se hūra se aril. A phrase Rhaenyra would lovingly whisper to all her children when they were babes.(I love you to the moon and back)

Now, as she sat with the weight of Aegon's letter heavy in her hands, Rhaenyra couldn't shake the feeling that Daemon had been right all along. The thought that her daughter had been forced to write those words, forced to feign happiness in the face of such torment, filled her with a sense of guilt and helplessness.

"You were right," Rhaenyra whispered, her voice barely audible above the tumult of her thoughts. "Our daughter’s letter, it was a lie".

Daemon wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra, pulling her close as she buried her face in his chest, her tears staining the fabric of his tunic.

"We'll find a way to save her, Rhaenyra," he vowed, his voice soft yet resolute. "I won't rest until Vaelys is free from Aemond's grasp, and justice is served."

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