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kirammanswifey · 25 days ago

Text

《Beneath Her Wings》

Caitlyn

writer's note: attorney caitlyn it's so fucking hot. it was so cute writing this, i felt butterflies in my stomach and i still do, i want a caitlyn kiramman in my life too please i'm begging. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's silco's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, scissoring, breastfeeding kink, lap riding, mentions of physical assault, harassment, fluff and a lot of drama but it has a happy ending.

The sound of your heels against the marble floor echoed subtly in the spacious hallway. The white walls, adorned with minimalist paintings, felt cold, almost intimidating. In front of you, the frosted glass door bore the name "Caitlyn Kiramman, Attorney." Your hand trembled slightly as you turned the knob. This wasn’t the first time you sought professional help since the divorce, but something about this place felt different. Perhaps it was her prestigious reputation, or maybe the faint hope that this time, someone might truly help you.

Inside, a receptionist with a kind face greeted you with a cordial gesture. “Ma’am, Attorney Kiramman will see you shortly. Would you like some water or coffee while you wait?”

“Water, please,” you replied, though the lump in your throat made drinking seem impossible. You sat in a leather-upholstered chair, feeling small in the wide and sophisticated space.

It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Caitlyn Kiramman made her entrance. Her slender figure, wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit, exuded an imposing yet non-aggressive authority. Her dark hair, tied in an impeccable bun, contrasted with her piercing blue eyes. She walked towards you with confident strides and extended a hand.

"You must be my new client. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Caitlyn," she said with a voice that was both professional and warm. Her British accent was quite captivating.

You stood up, shaking her hand with a mix of nervousness and caution. "Thank you for seeing me… I know your schedule must be very busy."

“There’s always time for someone who needs help,” she replied with a faint smile. “Please, come into my office.”

The office reflected her personality: modern, structured, and welcoming in just the right measure. Shelves full of neatly arranged law books lined the walls, and a painting of a mountain landscape adorned the main wall. Caitlyn gestured to a chair in front of her desk and waited for you to sit before taking her seat.

“Well,” she began, pulling out an elegant leather notebook and a fountain pen. “Before we begin, I want you to know that everything you share with me is absolutely confidential. My goal is to make sure you get the justice you deserve. But for that, I need you to be completely honest with me. Are you ready?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. There was something in her eyes, a blend of professionalism and empathy, that made you want to trust her, even though your instincts screamed that trusting someone again was a risk.

“Yes… I’m ready,” you replied, though the truth was you weren’t sure you were.

Caitlyn nodded calmly. “Perfect. Then let’s start from the beginning. Why did you decide to get a divorce?”

The air suddenly seemed heavier. You looked at your hands, playing with your fingers in an attempt to keep your composure. The words were trapped in your throat, as if saying them would make everything real again.

"My ex-husband... he wasn’t who he seemed to be at first," you began, your voice barely a whisper. "When we got married, I thought I had found someone who loved me. But over time, he changed. It started with small things: constant criticism, unfounded jealousy. And then… it became physical."

Caitlyn’s face remained neutral, though her eyes reflected a spark of contained indignation. "Can you be more specific? This is important for the case."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather strength. "He hit me. When things didn’t go his way, he’d take out his anger on me. He told me I was nobody without him, that no one else would ever want me. And for a while… I believed him."

Your voice broke on the last word, but Caitlyn didn’t interrupt. She gave you space to continue, which was, in a way, comforting.

"After a long time, something inside me broke. I couldn’t take it anymore. I asked for a divorce, but he… he didn’t accept it. He’s still harassing me, calling me, showing up at places he knows I’ll be. It’s like I can’t escape him, even after leaving."

Caitlyn set her pen down on the desk, leaning forward slightly. Her expression was serious but not stern. "I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No one deserves to live like that, and I’m glad you found the courage to leave. Now, let’s make sure he has no power over you ever again."

Her words resonated with you, though part of you still doubted. You’d heard promises before—from friends, therapists, even other attorneys. But Caitlyn seemed different. There was a conviction in her tone that made you want to believe her, even though the fear lingered, ever-present.

“What can we do?” you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

“First, I’m going to request a restraining order to keep him from coming near you,” Caitlyn explained with a confidence that was almost reassuring. “I’ll also review the terms of your divorce to ensure you’re fully protected legally. This includes any financial or property agreements he might be using to manipulate you.”

You nodded slowly, feeling a faint spark of hope. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.”

Caitlyn smiled, this time with a touch of softness. “It’s my job, but it’s also the right thing to do. No one should live in fear. And if you ever need to talk about anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m here to help, not just as your attorney, but also as someone who cares about your well-being.”

Her words disarmed you. You weren’t used to someone caring about you without expecting something in return. Maybe, just maybe, Caitlyn Kiramman was different.

When you left her office that afternoon, you felt as if something inside you had shifted. Perhaps it wasn’t hope yet, but it was a small glimmer of possibility. Maybe this time, things could be different.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your apartment, illuminating the unpacked boxes still occupying the corner of the living room. Days had passed since your first meeting with Caitlyn, and although she had promised to work on your case, the anxiety continued to linger like a shadow. Every time your phone vibrated, your body tensed. It was always the same: a message, a call, or an email from your ex-husband.

Today was no exception. The phone on the table started ringing. You instantly recognized the number, and a shiver ran down your spine. You hesitated for a moment but finally picked it up, as if facing him was inevitable.

“What do you want?” you asked, your voice dry.

On the other end of the line, your ex-husband's voice carried the same false sweetness you knew all too well. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing. I worry about you being alone in that big apartment. You don’t have to do this alone, sweetheart. We can fix things.”

Your jaw tightened. “I’m not your ‘sweetheart.’ I don’t want to hear from you again.”

There was an awkward silence before his tone shifted, becoming colder, more menacing. “Don’t be so ungrateful. You know no one else will take care of you the way I did. You’re acting like a child, but I promise you this isn’t over.”

You hung up before he could say anything else, dropping the phone on the table as if it burned. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him that power, not again.

Then your phone vibrated again, this time showing Caitlyn’s name on the screen. Quickly wiping your face, you answered.

“Hello,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Hi, how are you?” Caitlyn’s voice was a balm after the poison you’d just heard. “I’m calling to let you know we’ve started the process for the restraining order. I need you to come by my office tomorrow to sign some documents. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief. “Thank you, Caitlyn.”

“There’s no need to thank me. It’s the least I can do,�� she said. There was a brief pause before she continued, her tone more personal this time. “Are you okay? You sound... upset.”

You hesitated, but something in her tone made you feel like you could be honest. “He called. He keeps saying this isn’t over. It scares me to think he’ll never stop.”

The silence on the other end of the line was brief but filled with intention. “He will stop. Trust me, I’ll make sure he has no way of getting near you. But if you ever feel unsafe or if he contacts you again, call me immediately. No matter the time.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, this time with more sincerity.

“Get some rest tonight,” she said before hanging up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That night, you slept with your phone by your side, her contact saved in favorites, like a safety net you’d never had before.

When you arrived at Caitlyn’s office, she was already waiting for you in the reception area, looking just as impeccable as the first time. This time, she greeted you with a slightly more relaxed smile.

“Hi,” she said, extending a hand to you. “Ready to tackle this?”

“Ready,” you lied, though the truth was that the thought of facing your ex-husband made your stomach twist.

The meeting was brief but intense. Caitlyn explained every detail of the process, ensuring you understood everything you were about to sign. Her patience was admirable; no matter how many questions you asked, she always answered with calm and precision.

“With this, he won’t be able to come within 500 meters of you,” Caitlyn explained as you signed the final document. “And if he does, he’ll face immediate legal consequences.”

“Do you think that’ll stop him?” you asked, your voice unsure.

“We’ll stop him,” she replied firmly. “You’re not alone in this.”

There was a moment of silence when you realized how much those words meant to you. You weren’t used to someone else sharing your burden. Caitlyn, with her steady gaze and unwavering posture, seemed like the only person who truly understood what you needed: support, without judgment.

When the meeting ended, Caitlyn walked with you to the elevator. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.

You shook your head. “Not really. I guess I’ll head home and try to relax.”

“How about grabbing a coffee?” Her proposal caught you off guard. Caitlyn noticed your expression and smiled. “Nothing case-related, I promise. I just thought you could use a break.”

For a moment, you hesitated, but something in her smile made you nod. “Okay. I think I could use that.”

The coffee shop was small and cozy, far from the city’s bustle. Caitlyn ordered an espresso while you opted for something milder. The conversation, to your surprise, flowed naturally.

“So, you don’t believe in love?” Caitlyn asked at one point, her tone curious but non-intrusive.

“Not after what I’ve been through,” you admitted with a surprising level of honesty. “I feel like trusting someone is too dangerous. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Caitlyn nodded slowly. “That’s understandable. We all carry our wounds, but I don’t think you should close yourself off entirely. There are loves that don’t hurt, loves that heal.”

“I’m not sure those exist,” you murmured, staring into your cup as if the answer lay at the bottom.

“Let me ask you something,” Caitlyn said, leaning in slightly. “If you could imagine the perfect love, one that doesn’t hurt you, what would it be like?”

The question caught you off guard but allowed you to dream for a moment. “I guess it would be... someone who respects me, who doesn’t make me feel less. Someone who’s there because they want to be, not because they need me to feel better about themselves.”

“That doesn’t sound impossible,” Caitlyn replied with a soft smile. “Maybe you just need time to find it—or to let it find you.”

The warmth in her words made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time. Caitlyn wasn’t trying to fix you or judge you; she simply wanted to understand you.

After a while, the conversation turned lighter. Caitlyn talked about her hobbies, her walks in nature, and her passion for art. You discovered a shared love for museums, and at one point, you both laughed as you realized you had completely opposite opinions on a famous painting.

Before you knew it, hours had passed. When you finally left the café, you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about your ex-husband or your fears. Caitlyn had done something you thought impossible: given you a break from your own thoughts.

“Thank you for this,” you said as you parted ways.

“Anytime,” she replied, with a smile that seemed to promise she meant it.

As you walked home, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed. For the first time, you began to wonder if the love Caitlyn described truly existed—and if you might deserve it.

The sense of calm Caitlyn had provided at the café lasted longer than you had expected, but it wasn’t eternal. The next day, the sound of a notification on your phone shattered the fragile tranquility you had begun to build. It was a message from him:

'You can’t hide forever. You know this game won’t last much longer. Just come back, and everything will be as it was before.'

Anger and fear mixed in your chest, forming a knot you could barely untangle. You carefully placed the phone on the table, as if any sudden movement could trigger an explosion. For a moment, you considered doing nothing, but then you thought of Caitlyn—her firm voice, her promise to help you.

Determined, you dialed her number.

“Hello,” she answered, her tone immediate and professional.

“He messaged me again,” you said quickly, as if saying the words more slowly might somehow make them more real.

“What did he say?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

You read her the message, and when you finished, there was a brief silence on the other end before Caitlyn spoke. “This confirms he’s violating the preliminary terms. I need you to send me a screenshot of the message. This will help us strengthen the restraining order.”

“Of course,” you replied, but your voice trembled.

“Listen,” Caitlyn continued, her tone softer now. “I know this is hard, but you’re doing the right thing. Every step we take brings him closer to facing the consequences of his actions. You have my word—we won’t let him get away with this.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, tears welling up in your eyes but refusing to fall. Her voice was like an anchor, something to hold on to while fear threatened to pull you under.

Later that same day, you received another message from Caitlyn. This time, it was an invitation:

'How about a break? If you’re free this afternoon, I’d like to take you somewhere I think you’ll like. We could chat a bit, outside of the legal context.'

The simple fact that she thought of you that way, beyond her professional obligations, made you smile. You hesitated for a moment but then accepted.

The afternoon was warm and sunny when you arrived at the place Caitlyn had indicated: a sprawling field where a small group of horses grazed peacefully. Caitlyn was waiting by the fence, wearing a casual outfit that contrasted with the always-polished image you had of her.

“Horseback riding?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

Caitlyn smiled, amused. “I thought you might enjoy something different. You don’t have to ride if you don’t want to, but you should at least try.”

The sparkle in her eyes made any resistance you might have felt vanish. “Alright,” you agreed, even though you had no idea how you were going to manage it.

Caitlyn introduced you to a light brown horse named Storm, assuring you he was calm and obedient. “He’s perfect for beginners,” she said, gently stroking his mane.

With patience and a contagious calmness, Caitlyn taught you how to mount. Her voice was firm yet encouraging, guiding you step by step. At first, you felt clumsy and out of place, but little by little, you began to enjoy the experience.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admitted after a few minutes, surprised at yourself.

“Told you,” Caitlyn replied with a smile.

The afternoon passed in a flash. Caitlyn led you along a trail winding through the trees, and for a moment, you felt free. No past, no fears, just the present. Caitlyn rode beside you, sharing stories from her childhood and laughing with you when you made mistakes.

Then it happened. A low-hanging branch caught you by surprise, and in your attempt to dodge it, you lost your balance. Although the fall wasn’t severe, you hit the ground with a dull thud.

“Are you okay?!” Caitlyn dismounted quickly and ran to you, her face full of worry.

“I’m fine,” you replied, laughing nervously as you brushed off the dirt. “Just hurt my pride.”

“Don’t do that to me again,” Caitlyn said, kneeling beside you. Though her tone was firm, her eyes were full of relief.

Before you could respond, she raised a hand and removed a small twig tangled in your hair. The gesture was so tender and natural it left you speechless.

“Are you really okay?” she asked again, her eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The silence that followed was different, charged with a tension you hadn’t felt before. Caitlyn was so close you could see every detail of her face, from the gentle curve of her lips to the light in her eyes. She was beyond gorgeousness.

And then it happened. Caitlyn leaned toward you slowly, giving you time to stop her if you wanted. But you didn’t. When her lips finally touched yours, it felt like the world stopped. Her kiss was soft, careful, as if she feared breaking something fragile.

When she pulled away, she looked at you with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. “Are you okay with this?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about your past or your fears. In that moment, there was only Caitlyn and you. And that was enough.

Caitlyn helped you up after the kiss, holding your hand as you stood. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but she didn’t comment on it. You didn’t know what to say either; words seemed caught in your throat. You simply walked beside her in silence toward the horses, still trying to process what had happened.

“I think it’s best we call it a day for riding lessons,” Caitlyn finally said with a soft smile as she stroked Storm’s mane.

“Yeah... probably for the best,” you replied, your voice barely audible.

You got into Caitlyn’s car, and the ride back was quiet. Though the conversation was light and comfortable, you couldn’t ignore the change that had occurred between you. The kiss lingered in every pause, in every glance she shot your way, and in the slight nervousness you felt whenever her fingers brushed yours on the gear shift.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words. Caitlyn walked you to your door as she usually did, but this time, both of you knew something was different.

“Thank you for today,” you said, finally breaking the silence. “It was... unexpected, but I’m glad I went.”

“Me too,” Caitlyn replied, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m glad you gave yourself the chance to try. And... that you let me be there.”

The air between you grew heavier. You didn’t want her to leave, but the idea of inviting her in was terrifying. You’d been avoiding confronting your feelings, your desires, but now they were right in front of you.

Finally, Caitlyn spoke, her tone gentle and cautious. “I don’t want to pressure you, but... would you like me to stay a little longer? Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

You were so happy, it was like she could read your mind, no one had never understood you as well as Caitlyn did.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding. “Yes. I’d like that.”

Inside your apartment, you tried to keep yourself busy making tea, but your hands trembled slightly as you set out the cups. Caitlyn stood near the table, watching you with a mix of patience and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Yes... just nervous,” you admitted, not turning to face her.

“You don’t have to be,” she replied, her voice low and reassuring. “I won’t do anything you don’t want. I’m just here because I want to be with you, not because I want something from you.”

You took a deep breath and finally turned to face her. “It’s just that... I’ve never been with a woman before. I don’t know what to expect, and... I think I’m scared of doing it wrong.”

Caitlyn smiled, stepping closer until she was close enough to take your hands. “This isn’t a test or something you can fail. It’s just... us. No one else, no expectations, just what you want.”

The sincerity in her voice and the softness of her touch made something inside you relax. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could let your guard down, at least a little.

“I trust you,” you whispered, surprised by your own words.

Caitlyn leaned in and kissed you again, with a tenderness that melted away all your nerves. There was something about the way she touched you, the way she looked at you, that made everything else seem irrelevant. There was no rush, just patience and care, as if she had all the time in the world for you.

As the kiss deepened, she slowly guided you to your room, always attuned to your reactions, ensuring you were comfortable. Your breathing was uneven, but not out of fear this time. It was different—something warmer, more intimate.

“If at any point you want me to stop, just say so,” Caitlyn murmured against your lips, her tone filled with so much understanding it nearly made you cry.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Caitlyn smiled and sat you down on the bed, she knelt down in front of you and carefully removed your shoes, placing them on the side of the bed, perfectly aligned. There was something about the way she touched you, it was so motherly, so loving.

“What do I do?” You asked, your nerves on edge, sounding like a complete novice, in fact you felt like you were a virgin again.

But Caitlyn didn’t judge you, she moved closer to you, her perfect posture slightly bent.

“Why don’t we start by taking off our clothes? We’ll be more comfortable that way,” She caressed your cheek before adding, “I would take them off myself, but I want to push you to get out of your comfort zone on your own. I know you can do it.”

You rubbed your face against her hand, grateful. The way she always believed in you, with her encouraging words, gave you enough confidence to do it. This was the first time you had ever stripped so quickly in your life, your pants and sweater flew across the room, as did your underwear. And you were anxious, eager, it was a new experience that even though it terrified you, you really wanted to enjoy.

Your cheeks burned when you saw a naked Caitlyn in front of you. She was standing upright with that confident smile, and how could she not be confident in herself if she looked absolutely breathtaking? Her build was slim, but not flabby, you could tell she took great care of herself, perhaps with a strict diet and exercise routine. Her waist was so small and her hips big, Caitlyn was the physical definition of what an hourglass was.

However, that wasn't what caught your attention the most. You couldn't take your eyes off her breasts, they were much bigger than yours, pale and firm. They probably wouldn't fit in your hands completely, they would overflow through your fingers. Your tongue licked your lips as you imagined such a scene.

"Do you want to touch them?" Caitlyn once again read your mind.

At another time you would have been extremely embarrassed, but this wasn't the case, your mind was clouded with fictional scenarios that you wanted to make come true at all costs, so you nodded without thinking.

A small smirk played at the corners of her lips as she reached out, taking your hand in hers. Guiding it slowly, she placed your palm directly over one of her soft, supple mounds.

"Go on then," she purred, her voice low and inviting. "Touch them. Feel how soft and warm they are..."

As your fingers began to explore her delicate flesh, Caitlyn let out a soft sigh, arching slightly into your touch. Your hands kneaded and caressed, marveling at the way her nipples stiffened beneath your palms.

"Mmm, your touch feels so good..." she breathed, desire evident in her half-lidded blue eyes.

She took your other hand, placing it on her hip before slowly trailing it up the curve of her waist, over her ribs, until it too cupped the weight of her other breast. Caitlyn shivered at the sensation, her heart racing as she gazed into your eyes with open want.

She leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to her intentions. Her tongue dominated yours, stoking the flames of your desire as her naked body pressed against yours, soft curves melding with harder planes.

"Can I put them in my mouth?" You asked like a hungry baby.

Caitlyn's breath hitched as she felt your eager words whispered against her lips. A thrill ran through her at the desperation in your voice, the clear desire to taste her. She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, her own gaze smoldering with want.

"You can do whatever you want, though I love that you ask permission first. Go on then." Caitlyn whispered to you, tucking your hair behind your ears.

She guided your head down, cradling the back of your neck as she brought your lips to the swell of her breast. The scent of her perfume mixed with the natural aroma of her skin filled your nostrils, making your mouth water with anticipation.

"Don't hold back, love," Caitlyn encouraged, her British accent husky with desire.

And you didn't waste any more time, you buried your face against her breasts as if your life depended on it. You sniffed like a bloodhound tracking the tracks of a wild animal in the forest. It was like hugging the best pillow on the market. It was a soft paradise.

She gasped as your lips closed around the hardened peak, your tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive flesh. Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as jolts of pleasure raced through her body.

"That's it," she panted, arching into you. "Just like that... Ah! Your mouth feels incredible... Are you sure that's your first time with a woman?"

You blushed and suddenly found yourself thirsty for praise, needing her approval.

“Am I doing this right?” You murmured with her right nipple still in your mouth.

Caitlyn closed her eyes and frowned, as if trying to control herself, you were pushing all the right buttons in her.

Caitlyn let out a sharp gasp followed by a low, appreciative moan as you suckled harder at her breast, your enthusiasm evident in every movement of your mouth. Her fingers tightened their grip in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp.

"Oh, yes, you're doing it so very right," she praised breathlessly, her voice dripping with desire. "Your mouth feels divine on my skin. Don't stop, darling... Keep worshipping my breasts just like that."

She guided your head from one breast to the other, making sure you gave each the same devoted attention. With each suckle and lick, Caitlyn felt the heat between her thighs grow, her arousal building with every passing second.

"That's it, sweetheart... Use your tongue more, trace the curves of my breasts. Ah! Yes, just like that..." she encouraged, her head falling back as she arched into your touch. "You're stoking the flames of my desire with every brush of your lips against my skin."

Caitlyn's heart raced, her chest heaving with each ragged breath she took. She had never felt so wanted, so desired, and it was all thanks to your eager, inexperienced touch. It was intoxicating, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back for long if you kept touching her like this.

"Mmm... You're a natural at this," she purred, her words dripping with approval. "Keep pleasuring me just like that, and I'll make sure to reward you properly..."

With that promise hanging in the air between you, Caitlyn guided your mouth back to her breast, desperate to feel your lips and tongue on her sensitive flesh once more. She needed you to keep touching her, to keep stoking the inferno raging inside her... until it consumed them both.

Caitlyn gazed at you with a mix of lust and adoration, taking in the sight of your messy hair, saliva-slick lips, and those adorable, desire-glazed eyes. She felt her heart clench in her chest, overwhelmed by the sheer, unbridled want she saw reflected back at her. Unable to resist, Caitlyn leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to her hunger for you.

As she broke the kiss, Caitlyn's hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly. With a surge of strength, she flipped your positions, easily maneuvering you both until she was lying on her back on the bed, your smaller frame now draped over hers. She could feel heat the of your skin against every inch of her body, stoking the flames of her arousal to new heights.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt your core grind against her thigh, your slick arousal coating her skin. The sensation sent a bolt of desire straight to her own aching center, making her hips buck up involuntarily to meet yours. She could hear the needy moan that tore from your throat, the sound echoing in the charged air between you.

"Mmm," Caitlyn purred, her voice a low, seductive rasp. "Does my girl want to ride my thigh? Is that what you need, love?"

You felted so ashamed, but that didn't stopped you from nodding.

She reached down, gripping your hips and guiding you to grind against her thigh more deliberately. Her own hips rolled in tandem with yours, providing a steady, delicious friction that promised to drive you both wild with lust.

"That's it," she encouraged, her blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she watched your face contort with pleasure. "Use my thigh, sweetheart."

Caitlyn's own body thrummed with need, her core clenching and fluttering around nothing. She desperately wanted to fill you, to claim you, to make you hers in every way imaginable. But for now, she would settle for watching you take your pleasure from her, knowing that your satisfaction would only heighten her own.

You let your own body move, grinding your pussy over Caitlyn's thigh. Your whole face was bright red, you were so embarrassed that you liked something so dirty, you couldn't believe you had these kinds of... fetishes. Caitlyn was making you discover new things about yourself.

Caitlyn watched in awe as you began to move your hips more urgently, grinding your dripping pussy against her thigh with increasing need. She could feel the heat of your arousal, the slickness of your desire coating her skin, and it only fueled her own rapidly growing hunger. Your face was flushed a pretty pink, your eyes wide and uncertain, and Caitlyn found it utterly charming to see you so shamelessly chasing your pleasure.

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed, her voice heavy with lust and a touch of amusement. "You don't need to be ashamed. Feeling good, taking what you need... it's not naughty or wrong. It's natural, and I think it's absolutely delicious seeing you lost in the throes of passion. Actually, I think now that you're even a better rider than me."

Her statement made you shiver with excitement. You weren't used to seeing this shameless side of Caitlyn and you loved it.

Caitlyn's hands slid around to cup the rounded globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh as she encouraged your movements. She guided your hips, rocking them against her thigh in a steady, sensual rhythm that had your breath coming faster and your moans growing louder with each passing second.

"That's it, darling... Let yourself feel good," she purred, leaning up to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. "I want to watch you come undone, sweetheart. I want to feel your tight little pussy flutter and clench as you find your release..."

God, it was too much for you. Seeing the renowned and dignified attorney Caitlyn Kiramman swearing like that, telling you these dirty things. It was just too much.

Caitlyn's own body was burning up, her core aching with a deep, throbbing need. She could feel her juices flowing freely, coating her thighs as her desire grew more urgent. The sight of you lost in pleasure, the sounds of your increasingly desperate moans and cries, it was all pushing Caitlyn closer and closer to the edge of her own climax.

"Come for me," she demanded breathlessly, her voice thick with longing. "I want to feel your pleasure, sweetheart. Give yourself to me, and I promise I'll give you everything you've ever wanted and more..."

You wanted to give it to her, you wanted to keep going, but your lower body hurt, you weren't used to physical exercise. Besides, you couldn't remember the last time you had sex, it was normal that you were so rusty.

"I'm tired, Cait," you confessed breathlessly, it was the first time you had called her that way, it had escaped so naturally from your lips that it made both of you smile.

With a sudden, swift motion, she flipped your positions once again, this time pinning you beneath her on the bed. She settled her hips between your spread thighs, her dripping core pressing hot and hard against your own. Caitlyn's breath caught in her throat as she felt the slick slide of your sexes meeting, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

Caitlyn began to move, rolling her hips in a sensual grind against yours. She could feel her slick arousal mingling with your own, the combination of your juices creating a delicious, intoxicating friction that made her toes curl in bliss. She set a steady, sensual rhythm, her hips undulating sinuously as she scissored her aching sex against yours.

"That's it, love," she panted, her blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she gazed down at you. "Feel how wet I am, how much I want you... I'm going to make us both come, sweetheart. Hard and fast, until we're both drowning in ecstasy."

She was so romantic and naughty at the same time. She was just perfect.

Caitlyn leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing, dominating kiss. She plundered your mouth with her tongue, swallowing the sweet sounds of your pleasure as she ground her hips more insistently against yours. She could feel her climax building, the coil of tension in her core winding tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"Come with me, sweetheart," she demanded breathlessly against your lips. "Let go, and I promise I'll catch you on the other side. I want to feel you shaking apart in my arms as we come together..."

With a final, sharp thrust of her hips, Caitlyn pushed you both over the edge, crying out in rapture as her orgasm crashed.

Caitlyn's body shuddered and convulsed against yours as her climax slammed into her with the force of a freight train. A guttural, wanton moan tore from her throat, the sound echoing off the walls of the bedroom as wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure consumed her. Her hips jerked and spasmed, grinding her spasming sex against yours in a desperate, almost frantic need to prolong the mind-blowing sensations coursing through her veins.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried out, her voice ragged and raw with ecstasy. "Yes, yes, fuck! Don't stop, please, sweetheart!"

It was so funny how Caitlyn cursed but never forgot her manners.

Your nails raked down her back, leaving red lines of passion in their wake as you clung to her like a woman possessed. She could feel your own body trembling beneath hers, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly against her own as you teetered on the brink of your own shattering release. The knowledge that she had brought you to this point, that your shared pleasure was about to crest and break over you both like a tidal wave, only heightened Caitlyn's own rapidly building peak.

"That's it, my sweet girl," she panted harshly, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. "Let go, baby. Let it happen. I've got you

With a final, brutal thrust of her hips, Caitlyn drove you both over the precipice, screaming in rapture as your combined orgasms exploded through you like a supernova. Her pussy clamped down around yours, pulsing and throbbing as she gushed her release, coating your thighs and your belly with her slick essence. Caitlyn's entire body quaked and shuddered, lost in the throes of the most intense, mind-melting climax of her life as she rode out the aftershocks of her pleasure, pinning you beneath her.

You both stayed there on the bed, fighting for air.

“How did it feel?” Caitlyn asked you, very interested in your answer.

“Amazing,” You admitted with a smirk. “I don’t know how I haven’t tried this before. Lesbian sex is amazing.” You teased a little.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips as she gazed down at you with a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. She could still feel the aftershocks of her intense orgasm coursing through her body, making her skin tingle and her heart race. The sight of you lying boneless and sated beneath her, your face flushed and your eyes glazed with post-coital bliss, only served to heighten Caitlyn's own sense of deep, visceral satisfaction.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart," she purred, her voice a low, sensual rasp.

Caitlyn rolled off of you gently, but kept you tucked close to her side. She draped one arm possessively around your waist, holding you near as she traced idle patterns on your sweat-slicked skin. The feeling of your naked body pressed against hers, the way your curves and valleys seemed to fit so perfectly against her own, made Caitlyn's heart swell with a fierce, protective affection.

And with that, the moment changed. It was as if everything you had been afraid of vanished, replaced by a feeling of connection and desire you hadn’t experienced before. Caitlyn was everything you had needed, everything you had never believed possible.

That’s when you realized: for the first time, you weren’t running from your past but embracing the possibility of a future.

You woke up early the next morning, sunlight streaming through the curtains of your bedroom. The feeling from the previous night still lingered in your body—a mixture of disbelief and a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You turned your head, and there she was, Caitlyn, still asleep, her dark hair framing her peaceful face.

There was something profoundly calming about seeing her like this, stripped of her usual elegant and composed demeanor. For a moment, everything felt simple. But then, your thoughts began to swirl in your mind.

"What does this mean? What does she expect from me? Can I handle this when I don’t even trust myself yet?"

You carefully slipped out of bed so as not to wake her and headed to the kitchen. You needed coffee. Leaning against the counter, you stared into the void, trying to organize your emotions.

"I didn’t expect to find you up so early," Caitlyn’s calm voice spoke behind you.

You turned quickly, startled. She was there, wrapped in one of the sheets, a soft smile on her lips. She seemed completely relaxed, as if last night hadn’t been an emotional earthquake.

"Sorry if I woke you," you said nervously, avoiding her gaze.

"It wasn’t that," she replied, approaching. "I was just worried when you weren’t in bed."

The concern in her tone caused a knot to form in your throat. "I just… needed a moment to think."

Caitlyn didn’t push you; she simply approached and took your hands. "If you need space, I understand. But I want you to know I’m here. And I don’t expect anything from you that you’re not ready to give."

Her honesty was disarming. You had never met someone who respected your boundaries so much, who made you feel seen and heard.

"It’s complicated," you finally said. "This is new to me, and I’m still… dealing with everything that happened with him."

Caitlyn nodded, her eyes full of understanding. "You don’t have to explain everything now. You don’t have to have it all figured out. I just want you to know you’re not alone."

You took a deep breath and nodded. Her words, though simple, struck deep. Maybe you didn’t need to have all the answers. Maybe you just needed to allow yourself to feel, step by step.

The rest of the day passed in a strange but welcome calm. Caitlyn offered to make breakfast, and you watched her as she skillfully moved through the ingredients, enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

"You should know my culinary skills are pretty limited," she joked as she placed some toast and eggs on a plate.

"If you do worse than me, that would be an achievement," you replied, relaxing enough to smile.

The shared laughter eased some of the tension you still felt, and for a moment, it was easy to imagine this could be normal.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" Caitlyn asked as she cleared the dishes after breakfast.

"I guess I should work on some pending paperwork," you said, though you knew your concentration would be nonexistent.

"What if we take the day off?" she suggested, leaning against the doorframe. "We could do something relaxing, something that makes you feel good."

"Like what?" you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"We could take a walk around the city or visit an art gallery. There’s a photography exhibit I’ve been wanting to see. Or we could just stay here and watch a movie."

The ease with which Caitlyn suggested plans, without any pressure, made you feel more comfortable. "The gallery sounds nice," you finally responded.

The gallery was everything Caitlyn had promised and more. The space was wide and bright, with white walls that highlighted the vibrant framed images. Each photograph seemed to hold its own universe, from natural landscapes to portraits that captured human emotions with disarming intensity.

Caitlyn walked beside you, occasionally stopping to read the descriptions or admire the details of a piece. You were surprised by the depth of her comments. "Look at how the use of light here gives a sense of hope, despite the somber setting," she pointed out in an image of a desolate alley illuminated by a rising sun.

"Are you always this observant?" you asked, trying to hide your admiration for her intelligence.

"I guess it’s part of my job," she replied with a smile. "You learn to read between the lines, whether it’s in a case or a piece of art."

There was one particular moment that struck you. You stopped in front of a black-and-white photograph of a woman in the rain, holding a broken umbrella. There was something in her posture, in the lost look that didn’t face the camera, that deeply resonated with you.

"What do you think of this one?" Caitlyn asked beside you, curious about your reaction.

"It reminds me of myself," you replied after a moment, with a honesty that surprised you.

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes full of interest. "Why?"

"Because she looks lost but is still standing. Even though everything around her is falling apart, she’s still there."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Caitlyn simply nodded, as if she understood exactly what you meant, even without further explanation. "That strength you see in her is also in you," she said softly.

She took your hand, and for the first time, you didn’t feel tempted to pull away.

Back at the apartment, the atmosphere was different. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a palpable emotional weight that seemed to fill every corner of the room. Caitlyn sat on the couch, her eyes following you as you moved nervously, unsure of what to do with your hands.

"Do you want to talk about what you’re feeling?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

You stopped, your heart pounding. "I’m not sure what I feel. All of this… you… it’s so different from what I’m used to."

She nodded slowly, remaining calm. "I know this is new for you. But you don’t have to have all the answers now. I just want you to trust me. To trust that I’m not going to hurt you."

Her words were like a balm for your wounded soul. You sat beside her, your trembling hands finding hers. "It’s hard to trust. After everything I went through… I feel like if I let go, I’ll end up broken again."

Caitlyn didn’t look away. "I can’t promise everything will be perfect. But I can promise I’ll do everything I can to take care of you. To not be another wound in your life."

You stayed silent for a moment, processing her words. Then, in an act of bravery you didn’t know you had, you leaned closer and rested your head on her shoulder. "Thank you for staying," you whispered.

"I always will," she replied, wrapping you in an embrace that was not only warm but filled with the promise of a love unlike any you had known before.

The night falls with an unsettling stillness in the air. The apartment is completely silent, interrupted only by the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, but there is no peace in your mind. The phone on the table flashes, and with a sigh, you take it in your hands. It’s a text message, something that twists your stomach every time it appears. The name on the screen burns your eyes.

The message is brief, but its words are like poison infiltrating your thoughts: "I know where you live. You know you’ll always belong to me, right?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but anxiety begins to boil inside you. Fear, panic—you thought you had buried these feelings weeks ago, but now they resurface stronger than ever. He always had a way of manipulating you, making you feel like there was no way out, like he was the only constant in your life, the only source of "safety." And even though you left him behind, every message, every word, is a reminder of his control. A control that now seems to be taking hold of you again.

You can’t let that happen—not this time.

Suddenly, Caitlyn appears in the kitchen doorway, concern etched on her face. Her eyes immediately catch the phone in your hand, the tension in the air between you both palpable. You don’t need to say anything for her to understand. Caitlyn’s face hardens, and without hesitation, she walks toward you.

“Is it him again?” she asks, her voice low but firm.

You nod, putting the phone away, though the desperation still courses through your veins. Caitlyn steps closer and takes your hands in hers, looking at you with a protective intensity that makes you feel a little safer. “You’re not facing this alone,” she says, her words full of conviction. And even though you know she means it, you can’t help but feel a shadow of doubt. After all, it’s not clear what anyone could do to stop him once and for all.

“I know, but…” you hesitate, your voice trembling with fear and frustration. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. You don’t have to get involved in this.”

Caitlyn looks at you with a soft but determined smile. “I’ve told you before. I don’t want you to face anything alone. And this isn’t just your problem, you understand? This is mine too, because I love you.”

Those words, those three simple words, hit your chest like a lightning bolt, and for a moment, everything else disappears. The fear, the despair, the harassment… all of it fades in the warm light of her gaze. Is it possible that you’ve found something greater than fear? Something stronger than your past?

Your mind races, but your heart stops for an instant, as if time itself has frozen. Caitlyn loves you. And you… you felted something too, more than you dare admit. But fear, that dark shadow you’ve always carried, prevents you from fully trusting.

“What are we going to do?” you finally ask, though you know the answer lies beyond your fears.

Caitlyn looks into your eyes, her expression serious but her tone firm and protective. “I’m going to take more aggressive legal action. We’re not going to wait anymore. We’ll make sure he stops.”

The knot in your stomach loosens slightly. The confidence in her voice, the promise in her eyes—these are all you need right now. You accept her support, though part of you still wonders whether this is the end of the road or just the beginning of more suffering.

“What if… it’s not enough?” you whisper, almost as if speaking it aloud would make it real.

Caitlyn crouches to your level, gently taking your face in her hands. “If it were just my fear, I’d face it alone. But it’s not, and if you ever feel this way, you tell me, alright? I’m your partner. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Her tender gesture surprises you, but it also inspires you. Despite everything you’ve been through, the fact that she’s willing to fight alongside you gives you a glimmer of hope you’d long forgotten.

Caitlyn pulls back slightly but not before placing a kiss on your forehead—a silent promise that everything will be okay, or at least that you’ll try together.

The next morning, Caitlyn becomes an unstoppable force. She calls a few trusted colleagues, begins drafting legal documents, and files a formal complaint. She doesn’t do it out of revenge but for you, to protect you. And while you know the legal battle could last weeks, months, you feel a small spark of relief.

Meanwhile, your feelings for Caitlyn begin to solidify. Her constant support, her determination, her bravery… all of it makes you question what you thought you knew about love. Over the days, your conversations grow deeper. The fear of rejection, of vulnerability, still lingers, but so does the certainty that this woman won’t let you fall.

And amidst all of it, your ex-husband’s harassment, though it hasn’t completely stopped, seems to lessen. But there’s still something inside you that you can’t let go of—a sense of insecurity that remains, hidden in the shadows of your heart.

But Caitlyn is by your side. And that’s a truth you’re willing to believe.

The trial has been long, exhausting, and at times, almost unbearable. The days have stretched on, evidence has been presented, emotions have run high, but today, finally, it feels like it’s all about to end. The courtroom is filled with a palpable tension. Nerves are so thick they could be cut with a knife as you await the verdict.

Caitlyn stands by your side, her constant and comforting presence. She’s been with you through every moment, facing every challenge and obstacle alongside you. You feel her hand touch yours, a small gesture, but one full of meaning. The warmth of her touch is the only thing grounding you amidst the emotional storm surrounding you.

The judge finally enters, his voice resonating in the silent room. "We have heard all the evidence, analyzed the testimonies, and after deliberating, this court has reached its verdict."

Your heart beats faster, each word from the judge making time seem to stretch even further. He looks at your ex-husband, with a disapproving expression, and then turns to you, as if everything you’ve endured up until now is finally coming to a resolution.

"The verdict is in favor of the plaintiff. Custody of assets, protection orders, and the no-contact ruling will remain in effect. The defendant, Mr. King..." The judge pauses, as if his words carry the weight of an entire destiny. "...is hereby issued an arrest warrant for his violent behavior during this process."

A sigh of relief escapes your lips. Caitlyn squeezes your hand tightly, sharing this moment of triumph with you. You’ve won. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain—all of it has finally come to an end. But before you can fully savor the feeling, something shifts.

Suddenly, he stands up, his face red with rage. "This isn’t over!" he shouts, his voice filled with fury. "You’ve ruined me! You’ve taken everything from me! I’ll make you pay!"

Fear courses through your veins, panic overtakes you, but before you can react, he lunges at you, his hands wrapping around your neck with brutal force. You can’t breathe; the air is knocked from your lungs, and the pressure on your throat makes you see stars.

In that instant, Caitlyn intervenes. You see her move swiftly, shoving him with all her strength. But the force of her push causes him to lose control, and in the process, he unintentionally pushes her so hard that she falls to the floor, her head striking the edge of a nearby table.

Everything stops.

The chaos of the courtroom fades, and all you can hear is the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Caitlyn lies on the floor, motionless. The wound on her forehead is evident, blood beginning to pool on the ground, and a wave of terror and despair washes over you completely.

"Caitlyn!" you scream, rushing to her, your body trembling as you try to cradle her face. Your hands shake as you touch her skin, now slick with blood, and the sight of her still form on the floor makes you feel as if the entire world is collapsing around you. "No! Please, wake up!"

People shout around you, some rushing to call for an ambulance, but all you can think about is her. Caitlyn. The woman who has stood by you, who has fought for you, who has done everything to help you. And now she’s here, on the floor, unmoving.

Your breath catches, but you manage to stay calm enough to check for her pulse. Seconds feel like an eternity, but finally, you feel it. She’s breathing. Relief. But it’s only fleeting. Fear still grips you, the pain of seeing her injured consumes you.

The ambulance arrives quickly, and within minutes, they’re taking her to the hospital. The paramedics assure you that the worst is over, that her injury isn’t severe, but you can’t shake the knot in your stomach. Everything you feared has happened. Now, the future feels more uncertain than ever. Guilt mixes with the fear of losing her, and for a moment, you doubt everything you’ve known so far.

You sit in the hospital hallway, trembling, your body unable to stop its small shudders of anxiety. The hours seem to stretch on, but you can’t move. You can’t breathe easily until you know she’s okay.

Finally, a nurse appears. "Ms. Caitlyn is awake. You can go see her."

Your heart pounds as you rush to the room. When you enter, you see her there, lying on the bed, her face pale but with that familiar smile on her lips. She’s not as bad as you feared, but the sight of her injured still stings deeply.

"How are you?" you ask, your voice trembling, fear still running through your veins.

Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes shining with a tenderness that melts you. "I’m fine," she says softly, though her tone is full of exhaustion. "Just a little dizzy, but what matters is that you’re safe. That’s what’s important, right?"

You sit beside her, gripping her hand tightly. Your fingers tremble as you seek her touch. "I saw you fall," you whisper, your voice breaking. "I saw you fall, and it felt like the world was ending. I didn’t want to lose you, Cait. I don’t want to lose you."

Caitlyn squeezes your hand, her face filled with that calm that always reassures you. "You don’t have to lose me," she says, her voice steady. "I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay."

A few minutes of silence pass, broken only by the soft sound of Caitlyn’s breathing and the rhythm of your heart. The fear of losing her, that overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t live without her, is something new to you. But in that moment, you realize something. Something you’ve been avoiding, afraid to feel it: you’ve fallen in love. Not just with Caitlyn, but with what she represents to you, with how she makes you feel when she’s with you. You’re no longer afraid of what’s to come, because now, the only thing you know is that life, though uncertain, is far more bearable with her by your side.

A few hours later, your ex-husband is arrested for attempted murder. He’s taken into custody, and although the legal process will continue, the fact that he can’t come near you ever again is a relief. You feel a peace you’ve never known before.

Night falls, and you and Caitlyn return home in silence. At your side, she smiles, and though you don’t say a word, you know everything has changed. The fear is gone. The pain has given way to new hope.

Before entering the apartment, you stop and look into her eyes. "I love you," you whisper, finally allowing yourself to accept what you’ve been avoiding for so long.

Caitlyn looks at you, with that gaze that makes you feel safer than ever. "And I love you," she replies softly, before taking your face in her hands and leaning in to kiss your lips tenderly.

At last, you feel like the future is yours to write, together, without fear or shadows.

190 notes · View notes

ricesoupremacy · 2 years ago

Text

have a seat child lemme tell you a tale

ok so we’re doing this

@thepermanentscowl i'm just going to post this here because...no one looks at my blog anyway lmao and i don't care

i'm just going to pray i don't look back at this and regret telling you embarrassing shit but fuck it we ball and also i trust you.

warning: this is probably going to read like a shitty cringy school fanfic (look i have girl friends who use wattpad so i am cursed with knowledge okay) but this is absolutely 100% true.

warning #2: there’s a lot of meandering but i won’t apologise because. it’s my story and i’ll tell it however i want.

warning #3: if it seems like it gets a bit dramatic towards the end it’s because i got sad.

overall warning: very long. unedited. full of random shit. read at your own risk.

ANYWAY prepare yourself to read a love story better than romeo and juliet, than jack and rose, than even twilight. prepare to read the most beautifully tragic romance ever.

where do i begin.

Ok so when I was in fifth grade, I had the misfortune of somehow landing in the worst class an idiot child like me could end up in. I was never the “quiet kid”- on the contrary, I was always the one jumping on tables and getting sent out of class- but being with people like my classmates made me a Sad Boi for a whole year. You know, 10-11 year-old kids who’d just realised romance was a thing and who felt the need to incorporate it into every aspect of their dumb almost-middle-school lives. Every day was ‘OoOOHhHh wHo dO yOu LiKe’ or ‘oOOOhHHh wHo ArE yOu LoOkInG aT’. I couldn’t really blame them for getting over-excited, maybe I was just boring for my age. Anyway, I morphed into a kid who spent his lunch breaks sneaking books from the senior library and consulting a mini Oxford dictionary whenever I was in doubt, which was often.

It wasn’t just the teasing that got on my nerves, it was that my classmates were those pre-adolescents who’d later grow up into those wannabe Am-EHRIK-en teenagers- thinking they were so cool and sporting superior ‘Oh you don’t watch so-and-so hot boy’s Youtube channel? How saa-yad.’ airs that made me want to gag. I digress but whatever.

Needless to say, the Oxford Pocket dictionary was my best friend that year.

From a kid who ran into school bright-eyed and beaming every day, I turned into one who dreaded the prospect of entering a class with fresh hormone charged, irritating-beyond-words kids who were more concerned about some low-life’s Youtube tutorials than playing Tag. I did not care about next year. I was going to stay a silent emo kid planning murder at the back of my class forever. Was…what I thought.

___

I hadn’t even bothered to look at my 6th grade class list properly when we went for the end-of-the-year PTM. I was mildly surprised that I’d been shifted to a class with a completely different set of kids, many of whose names were unfamiliar. It’s probably going to be a repeat of last year, I thought. Whatever, just keep your head down and find something good to read. And let them think you’re the snooty class-topper who looks down on everyone else. You don’t care what they think of you, anyway.

Those were the sunshiny thoughts running through my head when I walked through the corridors on the first day of sixth grade, ignoring the kids running around and chattering happily with their friends, completely oblivious of the fact that one of those kids was running way too fast without looking- in my direction. Next thing I knew, I felt a body slam into me, knocking me to the ground. I fell on my school bag, the other kid fell on top of me. He immediately got up, but I barely saw him. I was too busy opening my bag to check if my books were okay- and they were, by some miracle. No damage. It was only when I breathed a sigh of relief that I became aware that some kids were asking if I was alright, and the boy who had run into me was apologising profusely and looking very guilty. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the boy warily. Wildly curly hair, glasses askew, shirt untucked. He looked like one word- trouble. ‘It’s fine’, I said to him. ‘I’m fine. Stop saying sorry.’ He looked relieved.

I got up and began to walk to class. The boy fell into step beside me, and said ‘You’re Arya, right?’

I looked at him, surprised. ‘Yes…how do you know my name?’

He seemed excited for some reason. ‘Um, I saw you at the inter-house Spell-Bee last year. You were really cool. I didn’t even know half the words,’ he grinned.

I looked at him properly for the first time. He came to my shoulder, he had brown wide eyes, and he spoke really fast and animated, like an RJ.

I found myself grinning back at him. He had the most infectious smile.

‘I’m Vishwesh!’ he said very excitedly.

‘Sounds like “fish”’ was the first, highly intelligent thought that I blurted out and immediately hated myself for saying. What the hell, I thought. WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE THEY JUST MET?!

Vishwesh stared at me. Then he laughed. ‘You’re right, it does. Hey, you can call me that if you want.’

I was confused. ‘Sure? You want to be called Fish?’

‘It sounds funny. I’ve never had a funny nickname. And we’re in the same class.’

We were? What a coincidence. At least there seemed to be one guy I could be friends with.

Fish walked me to our class, talking about last night’s cricket match that I hadn’t watched. I decided that I liked his voice. A little higher than most boys our age, frequented by voice cracks. His constant stream of chatter was weirdly soothing. I usually got really annoyed by people who didn’t know when to shut up (still do btw).

We climbed up the last flight of stairs and stood at the doorway. I stared.

The first thing I saw was a boy standing on a table and scream-singing “Thunder” while a bunch of other guys ran around him like they were summoning a spirit. The second thing I saw was a group of girls throwing a tennis ball at each other. One of them threw it a bit too hard (obviously, an accident. Obviously.), and it sailed out of the class and hit our (female) chemistry teacher- who was flirting with our (male) biology teacher- right in the face. The chem teacher stormed into class yelling at the girl (who was making a heroic effort not to laugh), while the bio teacher took the opportunity to go pasta la vista, and the demonic chanting of “thu-thu-THUNDAH” just grew louder. It was the most chaotic scene imaginable. Fish looked at me and chuckled. ‘Better get used to stuff like this.’

I almost shed tears of joy.

I’d finally found my people.

___

Surprising most people including myself, Fish and I got along like a house on fire. Classic anime trope- short idiot delinquent boy who’s actually really nice becomes besties with the tall brooding introverted topper (not to bRaG). We bonded. Even though we were…different. He was fun. And he brought back the dying fire of fun in me.

I also became pretty close to the aforementioned Thunder-boy and Tennis-ball-girl- their names were Tanmay (yes, that guy with the plane and bomb knowledge) and Nadia. Who were. Also grade toppers. Somehow.

Apparently Fish had joined the previous year and had become fast friends with Tanmay. The kids in their section hadn't been shuffled at all, except for me. I was the only one who didn’t already know everyone. But that changed pretty quick. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, it felt like I’d known them for ages. Especially Fish (which is what I ended up calling him all the time).

Initially, I got the feeling Tanmay disliked me (he did). I felt this hostile energy radiating off him whenever Fish started fanboying about Eminem to me. I guessed he felt a bit put out that his best friend had betrayed him, but it’s not like he completely ignored Tanmay. I tried talking to him too, but I was often snubbed. Idiot. Anyway, I soon used his weakness (Imagine Dragons) to charm my way into his heart and boom, Tanmay suddenly loves me. The three of us became a really tight friend group. But Fish and I always did practically everything together.

I guess it was because we complemented each other really well. Fish was absolutely reckless, and he needed moi to make sure he didn’t kill himself (mom energy lol). I’d grown too withdrawn, and he helped me loosen up. And we both loved cricket.

Once, we were hanging out near the school swimming pool. It’s open and the adjoining compound opens into the school owner’s mansion. The brick wall that separates the school and house isn’t high, but no nut would dare trespass.

Except my nut best friend.

He was trying to show me this trick with his ID card, and accidentally flipped it too high. It sailed over the wall and onto the owner’s manicured lawn. We both looked at each other. Before I could say, “Don’t even think about it,” Fish had taken his shoes off and hauled himself up with the agility of a small monkey, and jumped to the other side. I held my breath and waited, and soon his head popped up over the wall, followed by the rest of his body. He sat there and swung his legs, and we realised that he’s made a Miscalculation. See, the owner’s plot was a level higher than the school ground level. So he could jump to the other side, no problem. But he couldn’t jump back to this side without breaking his ankles. So he had to carefully turn and feel for a foothold on the brick wall while hanging precariously by his fingers.

Climbing down a wall is often a much more terrifying ordeal than climbing up one, especially for a barely five foot tall child. He tried to act cool but I could see his hands tremble. Fish’s foot was just a few centimetres above a hold he couldn’t see. He gingerly placed one foot on it. Then the other.

Then he slipped.

I caught him.

I staggered back, but somehow, somehow, I didn’t lose my balance and fall and kill us both. I set him on his feet.

He beamed and waved the retrieved ID like a medal. ‘Mission accomplished.’ I laughed.

‘Thanks, dude. I thought I was gonna die. When the hell did you get so strong?’ He punched my shoulder.

‘I’m not strong, you’re just small,’ I grinned and ruffled his hair.

Fish scowled. ‘How dare you insult me? I’m not small, you guys just grow abnormally fast.’ He said that in a highly offended voice, but he was smiling.

‘Who said I was insulting you? Being short isn’t a bad thing, you know,’ I was still grinning at him. ‘Short people are cute.’ And with that I slapped his back (not gently). He howled with pain, scowling at me when I laughed at him. In revenge, he pulled my cheeks really hard. Normal affectionate guy behaviour. I almost threw him into the pool, but a P.E teacher caught us and took us to the headmistress for “causing a ruckus”.

The consequences when she found out Fish had climbed into the owner’s compound were…not pretty. I was let off because I didn’t technically do anything lol.

I don’t know why I typed out that (painful) incident but I just remembered and it was funny. And it proves the point of Fish being An Idiot who would do anything without hesitation. We did a lot of shit together. Good times.

Sixth grade was really fun, it helped me go back to being the silly kid I had always been. Even the girls weren’t jerks like the ones in my old class, they were really chill and funny. Before I knew it, the academic year had ended.

Through that summer, I desperately hoped I would have the same classmates. Sometimes my school would shuffle random classes, and the teachers had threatened our Very Disciplined Class that we’d all be separated in seventh because no one could handle such “hooligans”. I don’t know why they would say that. We were absolute Sweet Children™. Anyway, the gods must’ve taken pity on me because there was absolutely no shuffling in seventh, except one new girl who’d joined that year, and she was nice enough. I was over the moon.

Teasing and shipping was prevalent even in sixth, but it was never beyond a limit. I didn’t care about it.

If it was even possible, Fish and I grew closer that year. Both of us had grown, but I was still taller. I was one of those kids who shot up in middle school but stayed the same height after that, while all the other guys grew taller than me in high school. Sad.

___

There was a sort of cult that started in sixth and continued in seventh- the Percy Jackson cult. Everyone in my class was reading it, almost at the same pace. I started reading it late, so by the time I was done with The Last Olympian, most kids were already on The House of Hades. But I was fast, and I was catching up.

Since everyone was reading pretty much together, they all reached one scene in HOH before me. And that scene created a HUGE uproar.

I remember walking into class from the bathroom one morning, and Tanmay ran to me like Sonic and yelled ‘DUDENICOLIKESPERCY’.

‘What?’ I said. ‘Nico? The Hades kid?’ I still hadn’t started HOH.

‘YEAH, HE HAS A CRUSH ON PERCY. LIKE, HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIM.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Okay.’

To be honest it didn’t exactly shock me or anything. That a guy could like another guy. I didn’t understand why Nico would like Percy of all people but hey, I get it. Percy is Percy. Apparently the Cupid scene became the most disliked part of the books, because soon everyone was cussing at him and crying over Nico. Someone engraved “FUCK EROS” on the wall. I visited my old class a few months ago, and it’s still there. Nico was a really popular character in my class so. I guess the reaction was understandable?

‘Hey, stop spoiling it for him!’ Nadia (best girl friend) scolded Tanmay. ‘He barely started Heroes of Olympus, how would he understand the context?’

‘Wait, but Percy’s still dating Annabeth, right?’ I asked. They nodded. ‘So…it’s a one-sided crush? That’s…sad.’

‘I knowwww, right?’ Nadia sighed. ‘I hope he gets a boyfriend by the end. My poor boy deserves it.’

‘Apparently he dates Will Solace,’ Tanmay added very helpfully, before either of us could stop him. ‘And what do you mean, “my poor boy”? He’s older than all of us, he’s not your son.’

Will Solace, the Apollo kid? Damn, I thought, while Nadia and Tanmay started fighting over spoiling stuff before reading them yet again.

‘Anyway, did you expect that? Nico being gay?’ Tanmay seemed unable to let this very interesting topic go. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I got the impression he liked Annabeth.’

Tanmay was going to say something, but Fish entered the class just then. He ran to him and repeated the question with the same enthusiasm. Fish didn’t really seem to care; he was more worried about a math test he did not know was going to take place until two minutes ago.

He walked straight to me and asked me to write all the formulas for the chapter on the board and explain some tough sums to him. ‘Why do you always ask Arya for help with homework and stuff?’ Tanmay raised an eyebrow.

Fish and I blinked at him. ‘Be-cuhhhhhhs he’s smart?’

‘Well, so am I!’ Tanmay said indignantly.

‘Are you seriously jealous?’ I snorted. T glared at me. ‘Even…even Nadia’s smart, why don’t you ask her?’

Fish looked at Nadia. ‘Uhh she is, but, I don’t know?’ He grinned. ‘Are you jealous?’

Tanmay was considering the both of us carefully. ‘Nope.’

‘Great,’ Fish said, pulling me to the whiteboard and shoving a marker into my hand. ‘Then let me get the help I need to pass.’

___

Middle school boys have the irrational urge to seem cool physically (for the girls or for their own egos, who knows), which is why arm wrestling became a favourite pastime at some point. Teacher disappears for five seconds, you suddenly have an arm wrestling ring in the middle of the classroom.

I took part in them too. I guess that moment when the back of your opponent’s hand makes contact with the table filled me with some sort of heady joy because I wasn’t necessarily the strongest guy in class. I’ve heard girls snicker that arm wrestling is just an excuse for guys to hold hands and I wonder if that’s true lol. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.

I don’t know if my feelings for Fish were purely platonic at this particular point, or ever. I don’t think I’ll ever know.

Some people talk about a moment when they “fall in love”. I don’t know if I believe that. I don’t know if it’s actually possible. But I guess this is close enough for my “at that moment…I knew”.

It was a free period. I was arm wrestling with Fish. The class was cheering. I was winning easily.

Fish was frowning from exertion. ‘Damn it,’ he panted. ‘Have some pity on me.’

‘If you’re going to try and distract me, it won’t work.’

‘You’re clearly winning, there’s no point anyway, Ari.’

‘Ari?’

‘Heh, like Ariana Grande, no?’

‘“Ari” means “rice” in my mother tongue.’

‘Then we make a pretty good South Indian meal together, eh?’ (Rice and fish curry. Both of us are South Indians)

I smiled, but said nothing, just concentrating on his arm inching closer to the table with every passing second.

And then he did something that knocked the breath out of my lungs.

He said my name.

Okay I- I know that sounds crazy. Fish must have said my name a gazillion times before. But somehow…when he said it then…the world stopped for me. I know it sounds cheesy as hell. But. Just. The way he said it. The way he just quietly said ‘Ah-Ree-Ah’ as if to himself, those three ordinary syllables that made my name, as if he was trying out their taste on his tongue and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, as if he was trying to see if it sounded special, as if he was trying to find something in it-

I went still, boisterous class and stupid wrestling match be damned. I stared at him as a shiver ran down my spine and something went tight in the base of my neck. He hadn’t noticed. He was able to gain on me, slowly pushing my arm down as my grip and my concentration wavered. The class whooped at this plot twist, oblivious to my internal panic.

But it only lasted a second.

I pushed down viciously and slammed his arm onto the desk as my friends erupted into cheers. Fish winced slightly and flashed his signature lopsided grin at me. ‘Good match, dude. You work out or something?’ He joked.

He didn’t seem to know what he’d done to me. For one second, I hated him with an intensity I hadn’t felt in a while. For one second only. Then I was flexing my wrist and laughing with him like nothing happened.

___

I guess some part of my brain had dimly registered that this was probably what kids were constantly snickering about- a crush. Did I have a crush on my best friend? When did this happen?? I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. I wasn’t sure it even mattered.

Maybe I was just a tiny bit more jumpy around him now that I was maybe sort of aware. Maybe I was a tiny bit scared. Of what? I wasn’t sure. Of him? Of myself?

I didn’t care.

He was still my dumb best friend. We still hung out. Nothing mattered. Nothing was ever going to change. And I didn’t mind that. As long as I could laugh at him making a fool out of himself and help him with math and create stupid games together, I didn’t mind.

It wasn’t going to make a difference.

___

Around the middle of the academic year, I began to notice a slight change in Fish’s behaviour. He started being more…touchy-feely? I mean, most guys in middle school (and forever after that too, actually) have zero regard for personal space around each other. Drape your arms around your bro’s shoulder, he won’t mind. But now it was different. Maybe it was because I liked him and hence was hyper-aware of every tiny thing he did, but I noticed. For starters, he jumped on me. Literally jumped onto me from behind. A lot. Then I’d give him a piggyback ride to wherever. As bros do. I thought I would get used to it but he always managed to take me by surprise and almost kill me lol. And there were other things. He’d grab my wrist or my arm a lot.

As the year went on, the stomach-somersaulting sensations got worse. And I think sometimes, I ended up staring at him like an idiot without realising it. Embarrassing.

I don’t know what Tanmay is made of, but man figured out something was up very quick. I finally worked up enough courage to talk to him because I was a confused muddle of emotions and I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

I told him I thought I might like Fish. Yes, might like. I think even though I’d sort of accepted it, I didn’t necessarily want it to be true, if that even makes sense. I was in denial, basically.

T listened to me rant and stutter without a word. Then he asked me a really simple question that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered earlier- ‘Do you feel the same way around Vishwesh the way you do around other guys? Like me, for example?’

Of course I didn’t.

‘Dude,’ Tanmay wasn’t even trying to hide his smile. ‘You like him.’

I said something intelligent like ‘Uh. No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know. Shit. I don’t know. At all.’

Tanmay rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, I was wrong. You like him a lot,’ he corrected helpfully.

I consider myself lucky to have him as my friend.

___

Tanmay promised not to tell anyone, but with the way I was acting and with the way Fish was suddenly…different somehow, other kids caught wind of something. They talked. And, yeah, we were shipped. Kind of. I didn’t like it only because Fish got all uncomfortable and then he’d get mad. He stopped jumping onto me like a monkey. He stopped sitting near me. All that, I could deal with. Quite honestly, I didn’t blame him for that.

Then he stopped talking to me.

He’d straight up ignore me. And obviously, that made everyone talk more.

There was a new girl I mentioned, who joined our class that year? Suddenly, she became besties with him. And he’d always talk to her very pointedly while she giggled and shit. I don’t care that this is the jealousy plot of every gay romance ever- I was burning with jealousy.

If he wanted to play like that, fine. I didn’t give a damn.

I ignored both of them pretty well.

I was angry. I was angry at him for caring so much about what we looked like that he found the need to convince other people there was nothing between us. If there wasn’t, then what was the point anyway?? Was our friendship really that fragile that one barely considerable “rumour” reduced us to strangers trying to get each others’ attention by not giving each other any attention?

And then there was the girl. She was fine when I first met her, but maybe I was just pissed off in general, but she started to piss me off more. That was probably unfair because she didn’t even do anything except talk to him when she knew I was looking.

Tanmay seemed very amused that I didn’t know what was really going on. ‘She likes you, duh.’

‘She what now?’

‘Classic girl trick. Give your best friend more attention than you to make you jealous.’

‘That…is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘It’s girl stuff.’

‘I don’t get girls.’

‘Yeah I can see that,’ he laughed. I glared at her. I saw her blush and that made me angrier. She did make me jealous- jealous of her.

‘You need to stop hating on her.’

‘It’s her fault.’

‘You know that’s not true.’

‘I know…I just…this all sucks.’

‘Maybe you should stop being such a jelly little boi.’

‘I am not being a “jelly little boi.’

‘Don’t lie to meeeeee, someone’s jellyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-’

‘Please stop-’

‘aRi’S JeLLyYyYyYyyYyy- wait. Oh. My. God.’

‘What?’

‘I just realised…if you’re jelly…and he’s…Fish…’

‘Oh my god don’t you dare-’

‘The both of you make JELLYFISH AHAHAHAHAHAHA-’

‘I hate you.’

___

So. Yeah. Nothing really improved after that. Fish still avoided me like the plague. I caught him looking at me sometimes. I pretended not to notice. But on the inside…I missed him so much it physically hurt. I didn’t get why shit had to be so complicated. I wished everything would magically go back to the way it was.

Tanmay still hollered “JELLYFISH” at us sometimes. He liked to embarrass us that way. Maybe it was his way of trying to get us to laugh about dumb shit and talk again. I appreciate it, but it never worked.

Until the last day.

I will never understand why I chose that day of all days to confront him. What a crazy coincidence.

10th March, 2019.

Home time.

Kids were walking out of their classes, bags slung on their shoulders, happily going home. Like any other day after school ended.

Fish was walking out, too. I watched him. He resolutely turned the other way, his footsteps measured.

I couldn’t take his shit any more.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face me.

He was still shorter. His eyes, wide and brown, didn’t sparkle with mischief the way they did when I first looked into them.

I yelled at him. I shouldn’t have. But I yelled into his face about how he was acting like a dick and how I just wanted to be friends again and how he was acting stupid and it felt like he didn’t care about me at all and that I trusted him and if the thought, the thought grossed him out so much, that he and I could be-

I ran out of air. I just looked at him wordlessly. I didn’t know who I was angry at.

He looked back. He didn’t have anything to say either.

His silence infuriated me more than anything he could have said. I was about to turn away-

when he caught me. He caught my arm. The way he used to.

I froze.

I couldn’t breathe.

The sound I heard next shattered the horrible silence…and my heart. (dramatic music intensifies)

Fish sobbed like the world was going to end.

He was clutching me tight, so tight it hurt. The front of my shirt was wet- with his tears. I felt dizzy. What the heck was going on? If anyone should be crying, it should be me-

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into my shirt. ‘I’m so fucking sorry, Arya. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry.’

I can still hear him say those words, clear as day.

The next thing I knew, we weren’t hugging anymore. The image of his tear-streaked face was plastered in my mind as I staggered out of school and walked home, the only depressed soul amidst a crowd of cheerful middle school kids.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Because the next day, school announces shutdown due to a positive COVID-19 case on our street. And that shutdown was followed by a nationwide one.

Idiot messages me two days later saying he’s moving away to another country and he didn’t want to tell me because he was being an asshole and he felt miserable overall.

I wasn’t even sure I was angry anymore. I was so tired of being angry at him. I was…sad I was the last one to know. I was sad he was moving away. Sad that things seemed to end like this.

We never really talk about that. I don’t know if we’re pretending it never happened, or we’re just acknowledging that neither of us really knew what the heck we were doing. Stupid middle school shit.

We talk now, and I don’t like him like that anymore. Out of sight, out of mind and all that I guess.

That doesn’t stop me from wondering What if? though.

#i don't know how to end this #but uh #yeah #ngl i got pretty sad by the end it still hurts lol #but ehh it happened years ago #i'm gonna go eat now

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