#but I spent half an hour on the treadmill making it

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Well the next few days are gonna be interesting

[f1fantasys]

uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your ���� and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

[beecauseevan]

first kiss in front of the team/at work!!

"You ready?" 

Eddie turns. He's been staring at the firehouse, but Buck is a much prettier sight, cast in gold by the morning sun filtering through the car windows.

"Ready? For work?" 

"Sure." Buck rolls his shoulders into the Jeep's driver's seat in a half shrug. "For work, and for—you know. Twenty-four hours is a long time."

Eddie leans against the door at his back, a smirk blooming on his face. "Is that a pickup line?"

"I don't have to use pickup lines on you," Buck tells him, but he's smirking too. "I picked you up a while ago."

Eddie hums.

"All I'm saying," Buck continues, "is that twenty-four hours… is a long time."

Eddie could keep playing hard to get. Taking the bait sounds more rewarding, though. He reaches for Buck, curls his fingers into the front of Buck's black t-shirt,  "Guess I better stock up on this while I still have the chance, huh?"

"I guess so," says Buck.

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the parking lot. It's empty, not a soul in sight.

"We're all alone," Buck mutters, voice softer than before, though the gleam in his eyes hasn't changed.

"All alone," Eddie agrees, and tugs him close.

They arrived in the parking lot half an hour early, but when they actually make it inside, their shift is about to start. That means the locker room is empty, which in turn doesn't mean much—the glass walls provide no privacy—but Buck is nothing if not bold.

"Stop," Eddie mutters, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, which hangs half-open from his shoulders. He doesn't have to glance up to know Buck is looking at him, can feel the weight of his gaze on the exposed skin of his chest. It makes him feel stupid, and tingly all over, and warm.

"I'm not doing anything," Buck replies, equally quiet, though the smile in his words is loud. 

"You're staring."

"I'm admiring."

And, honestly. Buck just spent four consecutive nights admiring every inch of Eddie's body. He should've looked his fill by now, but when Eddie finally meets his eyes, the hunger in Buck's smile is as obvious as it was this morning, yesterday, two weeks ago. Eddie shivers, glancing past Buck at the app bay to make sure nobody is watching them. 

What if they both took a sick day? What would Bobby say then?

He pulls himself together and slaps Buck's (gloriously naked) chest. "Get dressed."

"Yessir."

"Oh my god," says Eddie, and moves to the other side of the locker room before he forgets himself. 

And just in time, too. Hen knocks on the glass door, then sticks her head inside. "You guys coming?"

"Did the bell ring?" Buck asks, eyes wide. 

Hen narrows hers and looks from Buck to Eddie and back to Buck. "No. I think you would've heard that."

"Right," says Buck. "Sure. I wasn't distracted or anything."

Hen frowns at Eddie, clearly expecting him to know what is going on with Buck, and she's not wrong, but Eddie shrugs anyway, feigns ignorance. Hen sighs.

"Bobby made waffles," she says. "If you don't hurry up, I'm giving your share to Ravi."

The city keeps them busy, after that, provides them with a steady stream of fender benders and fires and the occasional cat stuck in a tree. By the time they get another moment to themselves, the sun is setting over the city and the station is awash in shades of crimson and gold.

Eddie is just stepping off the treadmill, sweaty and in dire need of a shower, when Buck joins him in the gym.

"Hey," Buck says. 

Just that. Just hey. He's smiling and his curls look soft in the afternoon sun, and Eddie wonders if this will ever stop being thrilling, if he'll ever be able to look at Buck without feeling like his chest is going to burst from all this love, if he'll ever be able to exist in Buck's presence without wanting, no, needing, to put his hands all over that glorious body.

"Hey yourself," he says, and Buck's smile widens, and he steps towards Eddie as if magnetized.

"I've missed you."

"You saw me ten minutes ago."

Buck shrugs. "You know what I mean."

Eddie does. He doesn't wish that he didn't. He likes knowing. 

"Sixteen hours," he says lowly, as Buck stops in front of him, just a few inches shy of appropriate—but then they've never needed much personal space when it came to each other. "Think you can manage?"

"Barely," Buck replies, before his smile sweetens. He looks down at his feet and Eddie looks down too, at Buck's hands, which are twitching at his sides as though they're desperate to reach out. "But, yeah. I'll manage."

Eddie nods. He drags his eyes back up and finds Buck watching him in return. He's so close Eddie can count his lashes, could trace the smile lines in the corners of his eyes.

"There you are." Chim strides into the gym and stops dead in his tracks, frowns at them, which may or may not have something to do with the fact that Eddie just jumped away from Buck like he's been stung. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Eddie says, too quickly.

Chim's frown deepens. Behind him, Hen appears on the scene of the crime, watching them over Chim's shoulder.

"If you guys are in some kind of trouble—"

And really, that's just uncalled for. Eddie opens his mouth and closes it again when he realizes he doesn't really have an excuse. Not for the first and probably not for the last time, Buck saves him.

"It's, uhm. Christopher's birthday party," he says. "We're—making plans."

Hen looks at Chim, who shakes his head.

"Chris' birthday is months away," she says.

"Well." Buck scratches the side of his neck. "Doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?"

He slides a pointed look Eddie's way, waiting for backup. Eddie opens his mouth.

It's new, still, this thing between them, new but not fragile. Three weeks ago, when their first kiss shattered every single one of Eddie's defenses, when he finally allowed himself a shot at true happiness, he warned Buck—told him that it would take him some time, that he would not be able to be Buck's plus one to a wedding any time soon.

Buck laughed at him, told him to stop worrying and we're not going to any weddings anyway, Eddie, unless you know something I don't, and kissed him again, and ever since then, he's been—patient, and careful, and wonderful, and everything Eddie could ask for and more.

He'd live like this, in secret, for another six years if Eddie asked it of him.

"Cause, you know," Buck continues, probably realizing that Eddie is too distracted to help him, and covering for him immediately, because he has his back even now. "Teenagers, they have—expectations. Right?"

"Right," says Eddie, and then he reaches out a hand and cups Buck's cheek and pulls him into a kiss, firm and sweet. When he breaks away, Buck is slack-jawed and glowing, and Eddie clears his throat and turns back to Chim and Hen, who are watching them with twin blank expressions. "Any more questions?"

"Huh," says Chim.

"Huh," adds Hen, and then, to Chim, "you owe me so much money. I knew it would happen before Christmas."

Chim groans loudly. Eddie leaves him to his misery and turns to Buck, who still looks stunned.

"Okay?" he asks quietly. He's lightheaded and giddy and so, so happy.

Buck's expression morphs into something different, something new, something that looks a lot like the inside of Eddie's chest feels—soft and warm and wonderful. "Okay. You?"

They have to talk to Bobby, and soon. Their future holds questions, of that Eddie is sure, and a lot of paperwork. He doesn't care about any of that right now.

"Never better," he says, and kisses Buck again.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── HOW TO DROWN A CROW

Synopsis: Saturday rolls around, and Karasu finally takes you on that date he promised you. Continuation of Five Ways to Kill a Crow! (part three here!)

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.9k

Content Warnings: reader and karasu are sickeningly down bad for one another but that does NOT stop them from bullying each other when necessary, karasu is never beating the simp allegations though, lowkey hiori slander (in line with the light novel), reader has a protective father, karasu is a good bf tbh, crow boy is thrown into the water (affectionately)

A/N: KARASU ANON THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!! i will post the rest of your requests once i write them hehe i love this man so trust i will be getting all of them done asap.

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!

Staring at the pile of rejected clothes by the foot of your bed, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. It was Saturday, and Karasu was supposed to be at your house in an hour, but for the life of you, you could not figure out what you wanted to wear on your date. It didn’t help that he was being so secretive about where you were going; when you had texted him asking about the dress code, he told you that anything was acceptable and then refused to elaborate. Apparently, according to him, you looked fine in whatever you wore and you were stressing out for no reason.

“Stupid Karasu,” you muttered, picking up your phone and deciding it was time for your absolute last resort. You hadn’t wanted to go to her, because if you asked for her advice, you’d also have to listen to the speech that would inevitably accompany it, but at this point, you were out of options. Before you could chicken out, you clicked on your best friend’s contact, video calling her and waiting for her to pick up.

She did so almost immediately, though she was very clearly in the middle of a workout, judging by her red face and the sweat dripping down her forehead. Recently, she was going through a phase where she spent at least half an hour on the treadmill everyday, and it seemed you had caught her at a bad time. Regardless, she grinned at you.

“Hey, Y/N!” she huffed out. “I was just about to text you, actually, so this is good timing.”

“Not now,” you said. “I’m having a code-red emergency.”

“What’s up?” she said. “Will going bowling with us and a couple of the guys later tonight help with it? That’s what I was going to invite you to. Don’t worry, Karasu already said he can’t go, so things won’t be awkward or anything.”

“Unfortunately, I’m busy tonight,” you said. “I’m going on a date — that’s why I called you, actually. I need outfit advice. I’ve never been on a date before, so I have no idea what to wear!”

“A date?” she shrieked before looking around, obviously embarrassed that she had reacted in such a way at her public gym. “I mean, a date? With who? Is it that guy I was telling you about, the one who thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had ‘broken up’ or whatever?”

“No,” you said. “Please, I have standards. You may think they’re absurdly low, but they do exist.”

“Then who?” she said. 

“So, funny story,” you said, wincing and bracing yourself for the incoming lecture. “It’s actually with Karasu.”

There was a silence, but you knew that it was deceiving. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to react; rather, she was gathering her thoughts, processing the information she had received, and preparing her reaction.

“Karasu?” she said. “Like Tabito Karasu? Soccer player Tabito Karasu? Your ‘mortal enemy’ who you’re ‘so glad is finally leaving you alone’ Tabito Karasu? The one who you refused to talk to because you found him immature? You’re going on a date with him? And it’s tonight?” 

“Spot on,” you said. “That’s why I need your help picking my outfit—”

“No, no, hold on just a second. How long has this been going on?” she said.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. He’s going to be here in an hour, and I’m just standing around in a bathrobe!” you said.

“Okay, show me the options while you talk,” she said. Figuring you weren’t going to get out of it, you flipped the camera so she could see the few choices you had settled on as you began to speak.

“One of his soccer teammates came to me on Wednesday and helped me realize what I had done wrong. Then he invited me to their game that evening, so I went to watch them. Once the game was over, I found Karasu and apologized to him, after which he asked me to go to dinner with him on Saturday — meaning, today,” you said.

“You’ve had plans with Karasu since Wednesday and you didn’t tell me? Also, option two is my favorite. It’ll highlight your figure the best, I think, but it doesn’t look like it’ll be super uncomfortable, and it doesn’t give the impression that you’re trying too hard. Perfect for a first date! Although, considering he’s only really seen you in the school uniform, I’m pretty sure anything you could wear would impress him,” she said.

“You make it sound like I lied to you about it! I just wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not. I mean, it’s not like we’re officially going out or anything. It’s just one date, and it could go horribly wrong. Most likely it will, considering how things between us tend to go,” you said. “Also, thanks! That one was my favorite, too, but I needed the second opinion, and I wasn’t about to go ask my parents for help.”

“Sure, anytime. So what, were you planning on only mentioning it after the fact?” she said.

“Pretty much,” you said.

“You’re so annoying. I need live updates as they happen, not days later!” she said.

“Okay, okay, I promise I’ll keep you posted from now on,” you said, setting your phone down so you could get changed. “Happy?”

“Super happy. I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Karasu, though. No, actually, I can, because I’ve been shipping you guys together from the start, but it’s unreal that you’re finally giving in and doing it! It’s like a dream come true,” she said.

“You’re seriously strange,” you said. “Like I said, don’t expect much. The most I’m hoping for is a free meal.”

That was a lie. You really, really wanted it to go well. You just thought that, if you squealed and gushed about it with your best friend, you would, in a way, jinx it. And you couldn’t afford that, not when you had only just gotten him back, so you did your best to maintain a nonchalant exterior, even though internally, you were freaking out.

“Uh-huh, sure. If you guys get married, I better be the maid of honor! I have such a good speech planned. You’re not ready,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m fucking not! We haven’t even gone on one date yet, why are you already planning our wedding?” you said.

“I’m a bit of a romantic,” she said with a dreamy sigh. “Hey, if things work out between you two, do you think that you can set me up with one of his soccer friends? Besides Karasu, there’s no one attractive at our school, and of course he’s always been yours, so I’ve never even looked twice at him, but I’ll really be jealous if you have a boyfriend and I’m all single and lonely!”

“Sure,” you said. “I’ll talk to him about it, though, you know, even if it doesn’t work out, you could probably ask him yourself. Aren’t you guys kind of friends?”

“Not close enough for me to ask him to set me up with anyone, and definitely not close enough for me to keep talking to him if he wrongs you in any way!” she said.

“What if I wrong him?” you said, only half-joking. You were more terrified of that, of wronging Karasu, than anything. After all, the last falling out had been your fault, and although he had assured you that he didn’t hold it against you, you still worried that you might one day say something that drove him away from you forever.

“Nah, that’s impossible. You’re always right, Y/N!” she said. “Don’t worry so much. Go have fun! Like you said, you’ll get a meal out of it either way. Whatever else happens, happens. How about this — tomorrow, let’s get brunch together. That way, if things go badly, you still have something to look forward to, and if they go well, you have someone you can ramble to.”

“That sounds good,” you said.

“Yay! Okay, see you then! Don’t text me too many details unless it’s an emergency; I want to be surprised tomorrow by the full story,” she said.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, blowing her a kiss through the screen. “Enjoy the rest of your workout!”

“Will do!” she said, hanging up and leaving you with just enough time to finish getting ready before Karasu was supposed to arrive.

When you got downstairs, the first thing your mother did was clap. This gained the attention of your father, who nodded at you in a crisp, paternal way which meant he approved but was too emotional to say it. 

“You look beautiful, honey!” your mother said, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I can’t believe my baby is going on her first date.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said, rubbing your arm. “Do you really think I look nice?”

“Yes,” your father said, pausing the soccer match he was watching. “What’s that young man’s name, again? Kimitsu? I expect him to come inside and greet us before taking you out, like a proper gentleman would.”

“It’s Karasu,” you said. “And no, why would he waste his time doing that?”

“Nowadays, the youth just text one another once they’ve arrived,” your mother said sagely. “I watched a video about it on social media.”

“That’s appalling,” your father said with a sneer. 

“He’s not an appalling guy, father, it’s just more convenient that way,” you said. 

“If he can’t even push aside his own convenience to do something so simple, then how can he be a proper boyfriend?” your father said. “You deserve someone who goes above and beyond.”

“That’s true,” your mother said. “But social conventions and whatnot have changed. You can’t expect him to do something he doesn’t even know that he should do.”

“He should’ve been born with the knowledge,” your father griped. You rolled your eyes.

“Father, please just give him a chance,” you said. “Anyways, it’s only one date. There’ll be plenty of time for whatever you’re talking about later, if it even progresses to that point.”

Your father opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a firm knock. Your parents exchanged looks before glancing at you in surprise; you shrugged, equally as taken aback as they were. All three of you crept towards the foyer, your mother shoving you forward and then drawing back to stand beside your father, giving you an encouraging thumbs up as you brushed yourself off and then opened the door. 

Karasu was waiting there, a bouquet of pale pink and white tulips in his right hand. When he noticed you standing before him in shock, he blushed slightly, shoving them into your arms and thumping his fist lightly atop your head in reprimand.

“I brought these for you, idiot,” he said. “I hope you like them. I had my sister help me pick them out so that they were perfect.”

The thought of him going to buy flowers with his older sister was oddly endearing. Maybe it was the fact that he had gone to such lengths for such a simple gesture, or maybe it was the way he was standing so stiffly, like he wasn’t sure whether you’d be pleased or not, but something about the gift made you relax upon its receival. He was nervous, too; it wasn’t just you who was scared about messing up. You and Karasu, you were in this together, and you thought that it was a little bit easier to stomach if it was like that.

“They’re really pretty,” you said. “I love them. Would you like to come inside while I put these in a vase? If you want, you can meet my parents. They’re kind of intense, though, so apologies if they say something strange.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, stepping in behind you. Your parents immediately pretended like they hadn’t been eavesdropping, your mother busying herself with rubbing at an imaginary smudge on the mirror propped up against the far wall, your father straightening one of the paintings hanging by the door. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tabito Karasu.”

“Kimitsu, eh?” your father said, puffing out his chest threateningly. Unfortunately, given Karasu’s height and impressive musculature, it was incredibly hard for almost anyone to seem threatening compared to him; thankfully, Karasu did not point this out, only smiling politely and offering your father his hand to shake.

“No, sir, it’s Karasu. Like the bird,” he said. Your father shook his hand warily, and before you could die from the secondhand embarrassment, you escaped to the kitchen, pulling out a vase from one of the cabinets and filling it with water so that you could put the flowers in it.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a catch there,” your mother said, joining you in the kitchen. “He’s handling himself quite admirably in front of your father. And he even brought you flowers!”

“He did, didn’t he?” you said, admiring the splayed out bouquet. “They really are nice.”

“He did a good job picking them out,” your mother agreed.

“Him and his sister,” you corrected her. She tilted her head.

“It’s nice to see that he values her opinion. That tells me that he’ll probably value yours, too, if things between you two ever get serious,” she said.

“They’ll never get serious if father chases him off right here and now, though,” you said, taking one last look at the flowers and smiling to yourself. “I should probably go rescue him.”

“Agreed,” your mother said. 

You were expecting the worst when you returned to the foyer, but to your surprise, it was a heartwarming scene you walked in on. Karasu was leaning against the door, telling your father some story with great animation, and by the looks of it, your father was completely invested in the tale, his initially hostile posture replaced with his typical laid-back slouch. As soon as he noticed your re-entrance, Karasu paused, prompting your father to look over at you.

“Y/N!” your father said. “Karasu here was just telling me about how he started playing soccer. You didn’t tell me he was the captain of Bambi Osaka!”

“I didn’t think that it was relevant,” you said. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve mentioned it; your father loved watching soccer, and there was no doubt in your mind that he would’ve been much more receptive to Karasu if he had known that the boy was so talented at his preferred sport.

“We’ll have to continue this conversation at another time, sir,” Karasu said. “And please, if you ever want to come to one of our games, let me know. I’ll make sure you get good seats. Captain’s privileges and all.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” your father said, though he was obviously delighted by the offer.

“I insist. Anything for Y/N’s family,” he said. You made a face at him behind your father’s back; when your father turned to look at you, you schooled your expression into a sweet smile, discreetly flipping Karasu off when he responded in kind and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Have a great time, alright?” your father said. “Don’t get back too late.”

“Text us if you need anything!” your mother said.

“Will do,” you said. “Come on, Karasu, let’s go, or else you’ll be stuck talking to my father about soccer for hours.”

You dragged him over to his car as he waved at your parents, who waved back. Only when the front door of your house was shut did you allow yourself to flick him on the forehead, causing him to whine and clutch the affected area dramatically.

“What was that for?” he said, opening the door to the passenger side and motioning for you to get in.

“You’re such a suck-up,” you said. “I can’t believe you talked to my father about your soccer journey for that long.”

“I want them to like me!” he protested. “Anyways, your dad’s a pretty cool guy. I can’t lie, I was kind of intimidated at first, but I think he warmed up to me in the end.”

“He definitely did, and you’re some kind of magician for that,” you said, still in disbelief that he had managed to charm both of your parents so thoroughly and in such a short time. “Also, flowers, really?”

“You said you liked them,” he said. “Did you not?”

“Of course I liked them!” you said. 

“Then why are you complaining?” he said.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just taken aback, that’s all. Sure, I’ve never been on a date or anything before, but from what I’ve heard from my friends who have, the first ones tend to not be quite so…nice? Nice, yeah, I think that’s the word,” you said.

“To be fair, their first dates were probably also their first times actually meeting their partners,” he said. “On the other hand, we’ve known each other for years, so it’s a little different. More importantly, what do you mean when you say you’ve never been on a date?”

“I guess this is why you’re not number one in Modern Literature,” you said with an over-exaggerated sigh. “You see, when I say I’ve never been on a date, what I mean by that is I have not, in fact, gone on a date with anyone before. Should I explain it in simpler language so that it’s more on your level? Me no date. Me single forever.”

“That’s embarrassing,” he said.

“Okay, Mr. Playboy,” you said. “What, do you go on dates every weekend or something? Next you’ll tell me you buy all of them flowers, too. And here I was, feeling special.”

“Nope, I’ve never been on a date either, but it’s different,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Because I’ve just never asked someone,” he said. “I’ve liked the same girl since middle school, so I didn’t see the point in going on dates with anyone else. For you, though, it’s just because no one ever asked you.”

“How do you know I didn’t just reject everyone that asked?” you said.

“Did you?” he said.

“No,” you admitted. “No one asked.”

He snorted. “Like I said. Embarrassing.”

“Hey! It’s your fault, so quit it with the smug act,” you said.

“How is it my fault?” he said. “Oh, wait, is it because of the rumors that we’ve been dating for years now?”

“Yup,” you said. “People were way too scared of you to approach me.”

“Good,” he said with a smirk. “That means I did my job well.”

“Hold on,” you said, his earlier comment finally registering in your mind. “Since middle school? Who the hell have you liked for that long, and why didn’t you just ask her out sooner? It’s a little sad that you didn’t.”

“You’d think, given your grades, that you’d be bright in real life, too, but I can see that that’s not the case,” he said. “Obviously, I’m talking about you. Why else would we be going on a date right now?”

“Oh, right,” you said. “Holy shit. You’ve liked me for that long?”

He turned redder and redder with each passing second, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he slunk down in his seat. You watched him in amusement, finding the shyness — which contrasted so harshly with his typically loud personality — to be sweet, in the same way a baby animal learning to walk was.

“Shut up,” he said.

“You should’ve said something,” you said. 

“Considering how set you were on hating me, I don’t think that it would’ve done much if I had. Ironically, as hurtful as it was for you to fall all head over heels for that Yukimiya guy, it was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me, because it somehow made you realize that you don’t absolutely despise me. I’ll have to thank him if we ever meet,” he said.

“You do that,” you said, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. “Although, if you’re in the business of thanking people, you should reach out to Hiori first. He did you a favor, even if he had an admittedly unorthodox method of going about it.”

“He’s kind of an interesting little guy, don’t you think?” Karasu said. “Like, I want to study him and figure out how his mind works.”

“Aw, don’t be mean,” you said. “He was really sweet.”

“I’m not saying it in a bad way! Besides the fact that he pretty much hates soccer, which is ironic given that he plays for one of the best youth clubs in the country, he’s relatively harmless. It’s just that the way he goes about things is so peculiar, and I feel like I need to know what the thought process behind his decision-making is,” he said.

“That’s fair,” you said. “He told me he’s been observing you.”

“He tried to follow me home one day,” he said. “It was freaky. I thought I was going to get robbed.”

“No way! I thought he was going to rob me, too!” you said.

“Guess that’s an alternative career path for him, if being an athlete doesn’t work out,” Karasu mused.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “Maybe he has a rough home life and doesn’t know any better. You should be kind.”

“What? I am kind! I’m super kind! Why do you think he’s so interested in me? It’s because of the kindness that radiates off of me in waves!” he said. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye in disbelief.

“That’s not kindness radiating off of you, that’s the scent of your hair gel,” you said. “Speaking of which, Karasu, I bet you’d look so handsome without it. Please stop. For me.”

“Just because you said that, I’m going to put on even more the next time I see you,” he said haughtily. “And for your information, it is hair wax. Not gel.”

“Right, because the difference between the two is astounding,” you said. “My deepest and sincerest apologies. I’ll do better next time.”

“Good,” he said.

“So,” you said after a moment. “Where are we going, exactly? You refused to tell me, so I had to make an educated guess with my outfit. I hope it’s okay.”

Luckily, the light turned red, so he could stop and look you over with a critical eye. He must’ve been satisfied by whatever he saw, as he hummed in approval and returned his attention to the road, just in time for it to turn green again.

“Yeah, you look pretty,” he said. “And I didn’t tell you because it’s a surprise. You’ll like it, though.”

“I hope so. I turned down a bowling trip for this,” you said.

“I turned that trip down, too,” he said.

“True,” you said. “Oh, wait, this is only tangentially related, but since we’re on the topic of our friends…are any of your hot soccer buddies single?”

“What?” he said, voice turning high-pitched momentarily. “Why would you ask that?”

“My best friend is in the market,” you said.

“I see,” he said, once again speaking in his normal tone. You blinked in confusion before deciding it wasn’t even worth questioning him. “Most of them are single, but they’re not the type I’d let within fifty feet of any girl I knew, so it’s your call whether or not that’s the kind of person you want to set her up with.”

“Absolutely not,” you said.

“I’ll keep an eye out in the future, though,” he promised you. “Wanna play music?”

“I can. What do you like?” you said.

“Anything you like,” he said. Not up to arguing, and also having a sinking suspicion that his music taste was probably something obscure and nigh-unlistenable, you decided you might as well put your own playlist on shuffle in the hopes that he at least liked some of the songs.

The two of you were driving for a while, mostly listening to the music you were playing and occasionally commenting on whatever interesting things you zoomed past. Sometimes, if a song you both recognized came on, you’d scream the lyrics at one another, each trying to outcompete the other for who knew the song best, but it was a lighthearted form of disagreement, more fun than anything. 

In fact, you were actually sad when you reached the parking lot and he pulled into a spot, turning off the car and getting out so that he could open your door for you. You had enjoyed the drive so much that you had forgotten you actually had plans to go to dinner, so you could not help feeling a little disappointed — well, right up until you looked around at the scenery and let out a gasp.

The restaurant was by the ocean, and the seating was in an open patio, the ceiling lined with twinkling lights and flowers blooming in hanging pots. The tables were covered in white tablecloths, and the water was so close that you could hear the steady way it lapped against the sand, the soft hush-hush sound far superior to any random pop song you could’ve turned on.

“I don’t know what to say,” you said as you followed Karasu into the restaurant. He offered you his hand, and you took it immediately, your fingers fitting perfectly between his. “How did you find this place? I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Believe me, I do,” he said with a scoff. “Excuse me? We have a reservation for two. The name is Karasu.”

“Right this way,” the hostess said, beckoning you after her, leading you both to a secluded table in the corner, which was decorated like the rest with a candle and a rose in a jar serving as the centerpiece. You sat across from Karasu and accepted the menu that the hostess handed you, leafing through it and considering what you wanted to order.

“If you do, then why’d you pick here of all places?” you said.

“Because. Do you remember last year, when all of us were eating lunch together and we had that debate about what the best first date would be like?” he said.

“Vaguely?” you said, wracking your brain, trying to pinpoint the exact day he was talking about. “Oh, wait, yeah!”

It was uncharacteristically warm out, and so your friends had insisted on eating in the courtyard. Sadly, this meant that you had to beg Karasu and his group to let you sit with them, as they always managed to get the best tables before anyone else could. That day, it seemed that you were in luck — Karasu only glanced at you before nodding and telling you that it was fine if you wanted to join them.

Somehow, the conversation turned to dating and romance. One of Karasu’s teammates was going on a date for the first time, and now all of you were giving your two cents about what you thought the perfect first date ought to be.

“Definitely not a movie,” your best friend said adamantly. “You can’t get to know someone if you’re watching a movie the whole time. It’s totally unromantic and an absolute turnoff. If a guy asked me to go to the movies with him on a first date, I’d say no.”

“Harsh, but fair,” one of Karasu’s friends said. “Going out for coffee is pretty popular nowadays, isn’t it? It’s easy to leave, too, so if things aren’t going great, you can just pay and get out.”

“Getting coffee wouldn’t be horrible,” your best friend said. “Though I feel like it shows a lack of planning and effort.”

“I agree,” you chimed in. “I would like to go for a nice dinner. It would be really special if it was by the ocean — I mean, I love the beach, so I think a guy taking me there would show me that he’s really serious about me and pays attention to the things I say.”

“How would he pay attention to the things you say if you’ve never met before? This is a first date, remember?” your best friend said.

“I can’t see myself dating somebody without being friends with them beforehand,” you said, shaking your head. “I’d want to know what kind of person they are before ever agreeing to pursue something further. So, given that constraint, they should know things about me like my fondness for the sea, and if they don’t, then they obviously aren’t someone who I’d want to be with.”

“You aren’t even friends with any guys,” Karasu said, speaking up for the first time in that insufferable voice of his. You scowled at him; he grinned and held his hands up in the air. “Just saying. Where do you think this magical dude who knows you like the ocean and wants to take you to dinner is going to manifest from? Outer space?”

“I’m sure one day I’ll meet someone who fits my criteria, and then things will go splendidly. You see, for me, it’s a scarcity issue — there just isn’t anyone around here who I’d ever want to date, so I don’t even bother hoping it’ll happen,” you said.

“Nobody? There’s not a single guy at this school you’d go out with?” he said.

“Not willingly,” you said.

“Jeez,” he said. “Tough customer. You need to be prettier to have standards like that.”

“Ugh, you are just the worst!”

“You told me I wasn’t pretty enough to have standards as high as mine are,” you recalled. “Rude.”

“That’s the only thing you can think of? Really?” he said.

“Well…” You bit the inside of your cheek, acting as if you were fascinated by the menu. “I seem to have said something about wanting to go for dinner by the beach for a first date.”

“Mhm,” he said. “You said it would show you that a guy is really serious about you and pays attention to the things you say if he did something like that.”

“Are you?” you said.

“Am I what?” he said.

“Really serious about me,” you said. “Obviously you pay attention to things I say, but what about the first part?”

He furrowed his brow at you. “No, not at all.”

“Huh?” you said.

“I’m joking,” he said, nudging your leg under the table with his own. “Do you think I would’ve gone to all of this trouble if I wasn’t? Hurry up and pick what you want to eat. It’ll be so weird if the waitress comes and you don’t know what you want.”

You would’ve argued, but you were too busy feeling giddy about his confession, so you complied with his instructions for once. Karasu seemed surprised, so you shot him a smile over the top of your menu, earning you a blush which spread from his cheeks to his nose and the tips of his ears.

The food at the restaurant was as good as the atmosphere, and to your surprise, it was easy to talk to Karasu for the duration of the entire meal. You had been afraid that you would run out of things to say, but whether it was due to your shared history or Karasu’s naturally outgoing personality, you found that there was no end to the conversation.

When the waitress came with the check, Karasu immediately slapped his credit card on it, glaring at you so fiercely when your fingers inched towards your purse that you actually felt cowed.

“It’s really alright,” you said.

“I’ll come over there and hold your hands down if you try to pay,” he warned you, wiggling his fingers at you threateningly. You wrinkled your nose.

“If you’re going to be so stubborn about it, then fine,” you said. “Can we go down to the beach once she comes back with your card?”

“Do we have to?” he said.

“No, of course we don’t have to, I just thought that, since we had come all of this way, we might as well,” you said. 

Karasu’s lips pursed into an uneasy expression, but he nodded. “Okay, we can.”

You beamed at him. “Thanks! I know it’s not your favorite, but I promise it’ll be fun if we go together.”

“Sure,” he grumbled. “Whatever you say.”

As soon as he had his card back, you left the restaurant behind, traipsing towards the sand until you were on the beach proper. The sun had set already, and the moon’s reflection on the water was like a silver blot, seeping into the sparkling waves and melting amongst the pinpricks of the stars. As you gazed out at the horizon, Karasu intertwined his fingers with yours, and when you turned, you saw that he was looking at you in much the same way that you had been looking out to the sea.

“I want to go in,” you said. “You don’t have to! I just want to dip my feet.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “We can do that.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “But I’ll try anyways.”

You smiled, kicking off your shoes and watching him do the same before he leaned down, refusing to let go of your hand as he rolled up the cuffs of his pants so that they did not get wet. Then, tentatively, he stepped forward, screwing his eyes shut as the tides splashed against your ankles.

“Why are you scared of the water?” you said, urging him deeper with a squeeze of your hand. He followed you willingly, though he did not open his eyes. 

“I hate it,” he said. “I just do. I can’t explain why. When I was a kid, my sister took me to the pool and tried to teach me how to swim, but I cried and I cried, so she gave up. Pretty mediocre, don’t you think? But I can’t bring myself to get over it.”

“Do you think you’ll drown?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not. It’s the uncertainty that drives me crazy. When you’re in the water, you’re completely at its mercy, and I don’t like that. I don’t like trusting anyone but myself.”

Of course. The ever-independent Karasu, who was always so self-assured and arrogant…no wonder he hated the water. It was the one force which even he could not rise above, which could kill him if it wanted to, which he was powerless to resist. Being at someone else’s mercy went directly against his nature — so why, then, did he always give himself up for you? Why was he telling you this, when you could be quite sure he had never told anyone else? Why was he chasing after you as you pulled him further and further into an unknown territory?

By the time the water reached his knees, the currents swishing about around your legs playfully, he was all but trembling, though he did not otherwise protest. Working your hand free from his death grip, you waited for him to open his eyes, which he did with a swiftness that left you reeling.

He had an arresting sort of stare, you thought, especially in the moonlight — a kind of dancing wildness which defied explanation. There was not a trace of his typical mischief in his blown pupils when they landed upon you, only fear and awe in equal measure, mixing into a writhing shade as dark as the sky at midnight. An impatient breeze whipped against your face as he reached for you, and for some reason, that moment was what made you very, very certain that you liked him. You liked him more than you had ever liked anyone before. You liked him more than should be possible.

The tips of his fingers dug into your waist as he held onto you for dear life, and slowly, carefully, you allowed your arms to snake around his neck. Besides flinching whenever the water splashed particularly high, he did not move a muscle, though he swallowed when you leaned closer to him.

“Karasu — Tabito,” you said. “Tabito, it’s okay. Even in the water, I’ll be there for you. I was first in the class for swimming, right? So I’ll never let you drown. As long as I’m with you, nothing will happen. Do you believe me when I say that?”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

He was reaching his limit, though, and you could tell because he was shifting from foot to foot, eyeing the water warily, his jaw clenched at every ebb and flow. You nodded firmly and then twisted so that you could pick your way back to the shore.

“Let’s go home,” you said.

“Not yet,” he said. In an unexpected role reversal, he yanked you back, extending one hand to steady you when you stumbled and then, before you could comprehend what was happening, tangling the other in your hair, crushing his mouth against yours without abandon.

It was rough and tasted like sea salt, the way he kissed you, all messy and shaky and heady and furious. You were left breathless and clinging to him so that you were not swept away, his shirt bunching up in your fists, his hands roaming up and down your sides like a current. 

“Now we can go,” he said, pulling away and flashing you that same cocky grin he always wore, though it was more hesitant than usual, which was either a product of the water’s presence or yours. “Yeah? I think I’ve had more than enough of the beach for the rest of this year.”

“Yeah,” you said once you had regained your wits about you. “Yeah, my parents, I don’t want them to worry, so we should probably — we should probably go.”

“Hm,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “A couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt though, right?”

“No,” you said immediately. “Not at all.”

“Then what would you say if I asked if we could spend just a little longer here?” he said.

“I think I would say yes,” you said. “Yes. For as long as possible, I want to be here.”

“You’d say that to anyone,” he teased as you walked towards where your shoes lay on the dry sand. You shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Not to anyone. Just you.”

“Is that so?” he said. “Man. It’s hard to be around you when you say stuff like that. It’s hard to listen to, I can’t lie. If anyone else said something so overly sweet, I’d make fun of them.”

“As if you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you said.

“Normally, I would,” he agreed. “But I’ll make an exception this time. It’s our first date, after all. I have to act like a gentleman so you agree to go on a second one.”

“I’ll go on a second one,” you said. “And a third, if you want. A fourth and a fifth, even.”

“That many?” he said. “I must’ve done something right today, then.”

“You did a lot of things right,” you said. “It almost made up for the lifetime of assholery you have led up until this point.”

“I tried,” he said with a wink. “So. Where do we go next time?”

“How about you pick? You did everything I wanted to today, so it’s only fair if I return the favor,” you said. 

“I’ll think about it and let you know,” he said. “Oh, and hey, Y/N?”

“Yes?” you said, looking up from where you were putting on your shoes.

“I didn’t mean what I said back then,” he said.

“Back when?” you said.

“Every time I called you ugly or whatever,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I didn’t mean it, either,” you said. “You know, when I told you there wasn’t a single guy at our school that I’d go out with. Turns out there’s one.”

“Lucky fellow,” he said. “Getting to have the Y/N L/N as his girlfriend and all. He hit the jackpot.”

“That he did,” you said. “So I’m your girlfriend, then?”

His eyes widened. “Ah. I mean, only if you want to be.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I want to be.”

“Then I guess you are,” he said. You were planning on responding in a romantic way, but as you tried to come up with something to say, you happened to notice the time on your phone.

“Oh, fuck! My parents are going to kill me if we don’t leave right now!” you said.

“Not on my watch! I finally got you to be my girlfriend. There’s no way I’m letting you die now!” he said, grabbing your arm and taking off in a sprint towards the parking lot. You did your best to keep up with him, though it was difficult when you kept doubling over with laughter at his urgent pleas for you to hurry so that he didn’t lose any of the favor he had curried with your father.

Maybe your best friend hadn’t been so far off the mark, after all. Once you were settled in the passenger seat of his car, you pulled out your phone and texted her, knowing that she was probably waiting anxiously in her room for an update.

‘date went well. get started on that speech.’

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Two

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : Spoiler warning for anyone who hasn't read The Picture of Dorian Gray (though can I really spoil a book that's over 130 years old? idk).

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Two

This is going to be fun.

That was what he’d told you, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. 

As you laid in bed that night, you wondered where he was, you wondered what he was doing. What had he meant when he told you that he liked you? Did you even want to be liked by him? The more you thought about it, the more you realised just how strange the conversation had been. At the time it felt like he was taking a measure of you, trying to understand you, but not necessarily trying to know you.

At the time you’d felt like you were on the back foot, too shocked by his sudden appearance to really learn anything about him.

But, again, you had to wonder if that was something you really wanted. After all, he was a vampire and there was still so much that you didn’t know about their world and the way that they lived.

You fell asleep that night thinking about his dark eyes and the way he’d looked as he’d sipped your blood.

The next morning you woke with a start, realising that you'd forgotten to set an alarm the night before and you’d overslept. Not that you had any reason to wake up before midday, but you were certain that if you didn’t find a way to keep some sort of structure in your life over the next year, you were going to lose your mind.

So, you got up and got breakfast before spending half an hour on the treadmill, taking a slow walk, imagining you were on your way to the Met. Every day you were going to imagine a new place you’d be able to see in the city once your contract was over. After your walk and a quick shower, you got dressed and headed out into the main penthouse. 

You weren’t surprised that he wasn’t out there - because, of course he wasn’t, it was the middle of the afternoon - but you still felt... something. Disappointment? No, loneliness. 

For a few seconds your eyes caught on his door before you headed into the library.

The next few hours were spent going through his books and his record collection, looking for something, anything, that might tell you a little more about him. But you didn’t know what you were looking for, and there was no way of telling which of the books, if any, held any real sort of value to him. Dorian Gray, you guessed, had to mean something because he’d noticed it was missing from the shelf, but there was everything from the classics to more recent books, spanning almost every genre you could think to name.

(Though you did have to wonder if he’d purchased Dracula before or after being turned.)

Your search for clues seemed fruitless; you couldn’t even begin to guess his age from his record collection. There was everything from classical music to records that you knew were only released last year. Everything was too eclectic. Normally eclectic was something that you liked, you hated the idea of being stuck with only one genre or type or music or book, but it was frustrating how little you’d been able to discover.   

What made it worse, you came to realise, was that he’d been able to read you as easily as he might read one of his books. He’d only had to look at you to understand that you’d taken this job to get away from something.

But you weren’t going to let your mind wander to thoughts of home.

That evening you sat and waited on the sofa realising for the first time that you could get an amazing view of the sun setting over Central Park and the city from there. You’d brought the battered copy of Dorian Gray with you, but every time you tried to focus on it, you found yourself distracted by the view.

To your disappointment, the clock struck 9pm and Mr Russo still hadn’t appeared, so you made your way back to your room.

It was silly to feel disappointed, but you weren’t used to feeling so completely alone. Back home there had always been someone around, even when you wanted nothing more than to be alone. And, the rest of the time, you’d had social media to slake your thirst for connection and companionship. Now there was nothing but the walls of the penthouse, TV and Mr Russo’s collection of books.

The next day passed similarly; you got up, you had a little walk on the treadmill before showering, then you picked out your outfit for the day.Then you headed to the library and started to make you through Mr Russo’s vinyl collection, listening to some of the albums that grabbed your attention, keeping the volume down in case the vampire was sleeping in his rooms.

That was the thing that was really starting to bother you - you didn’t even know if he was home. There was no way of telling if he was just beyond the door to his room, or if he was even in the city. Not knowing just made the loneliness more acute.

That evening, after you’d eaten and drawn blood, you found yourself on the sofa again watching the sunset, his book on your lap and a couple of the muffins you’d made, sitting on a plate on the table. Sugar seemed to help after drawing blood, though you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.

“Making yourself at home, I see,” his voice pierced the silence so suddenly that you started.

You turned from the window quickly, to find him standing by his door, smiling and very obviously impressed with himself.

“How long have you been stood there?” Not even trying to disguise the shock or annoyance in your tone. 

He didn’t answer, instead he started towards the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass before retrieving today’s blood from the fridge. 

“It’s quite the view,” he stated, his back to you, “I suppose someone should appreciate it.”

“You mean you don’t?” Curious. Why bother having a penthouse like this if he didn’t care about the view?

“Looking at the sunset isn’t exactly enjoyable for vampires,” he shrugged, turning and making his way towards the sofa.

“I thought the windows made the sunlight safe for you?” Or maybe you were just being stupid. You hated how little you know, how little you’d learned before taking the job. And, now, without the internet, you couldn’t even try to learn about it.

“They make it safe, yes,” he stated, sitting down, not directly next to you, but much closer than he had been the first time you met. “But seeing the sun and knowing that I’ll never feel its warmth on my face again, makes it a little unbearable.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t expect that to get a laugh.

“You apologise a lot for someone who hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

Yet? You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t think it wise to ask. As far as you were concerned, you weren’t going to do anything wrong while you were there.

“It’s just how I was raised, I guess,” you shrugged, your gaze dropping to his glass, to your blood.

Mr Russo gave a hum, his gaze still fixed on you, looking right through you. It was enough to make your heart beat a little faster, even though Lissa had warned you about such things, but controlling it was easier said than done. 

“Are you still settling in?” He asked. “I know that all of this can take a while to adjust to.”

“It’s -” you started and stopped, wondering if it was wise to be honest about it, “- a little lonely. I’m not used to going for days without someone to talk to. Normally I’d at least have the dog, but...” you trailed into a sigh, reminding yourself that this was what you agreed to. 

“I see,” he nodded, face offering the slightest slither of sympathy. “I’ll do what I can to help with that.”

Silence fell for a few moments before his eyes dropped to your lap, to the book that you’d started to tightly grip at some point after his sudden appearance. 

“Are you enjoying the book?” He asked and you looked down, noticing how white your knuckles were.

“Yes,” your cheeks started to warm, “very much.”

Your fingers flexed, releasing your grip on the book and, instead, you pressed your hands flat on your lap.

“Have you read it before?”

“No, it’s not -” you paused for a second, trying to think of the best way to explain it to him, “- it’s not the sort of book that was deemed acceptable where I’m from.”

“Ah,” he nodded, still looking very amused by everything, by you. “And you’re reading it now as - what? An act of rebellion against the way you were raised? Or are you just curious to see how bad it is?”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered without hesitation, shrugging, “I always thought it was a stupid rule. People should be allowed to read what they want and draw their own conclusions. That’s the point of art; it means something different to everyone that views it. And I don’t like being told how to feel about things.”

The amusement on his face slowly started to turn to something a little more genuine, something a little more interested. 

“What part are you up to?”

“He’s going to ask Sybil to marry him.”

He gave the slightest of nods. “And what do you think about that?”

It was a strange question, but perhaps that was because you weren’t used to people wanting to know your thoughts or opinions on things. You took a slow breath and he didn’t pressure you, giving you a moment to get your thoughts in order.

“I think it’s a bit soon. He hasn’t really known her very long and he seems more infatuated with who she is when she’s on stage than her as a person, but...”

“But?” He prompted gently.

“If he loves her half as much as he thinks he does, then maybe they could be happy together? It seems like he needs someone who’ll love him, someone who he can love more than himself, and someone who’ll get him away from Lord Henry.” Even though you were perfectly happy with your opinion, you still felt your cheeks warming again.

“You think he needs love?” Another unexpected question.

“Well... doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you think he really deserves it?”

“Does anyone?”

He paused for a second, looking ready to say something before obviously changing his mind. “So, do you believe in love at first sight? Like Dorian falling for Sybil?”

“I -” you faltered, looking down at the book on your lap, trying to escape the dark depths of his eyes for a moment, “- I don’t know. I find it hard to believe in anything I’ve not experienced myself.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve never felt love at first sight,” you avoided the question, forcing yourself to look back up. “Have you?”

“No, not at first sight.”

At that, he seemed to relent, falling silent and letting his gaze drift towards the window again, lifting his glass and taking a sip. You reached for a muffin, almost gasping as his cold fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and pulled your arm towards him. Your lips parted, ready to ask the obvious question, but it fell dead on your tongue when his thumb ran over the bruising at the crook of your arm from drawing blood. He stared at it for a second before his eyes returned to yours.

“Do I need Lissa to come and help you draw blood in future?” He asked, and you couldn’t tell if he was concerned or annoyed.

“No, it’s fine,” you gave a gentle tug against his grip, but he didn’t let go. “I just bruise easily. I didn’t even notice it.” 

His fingers tightened a fraction.

“While you’re here, you’re my responsibility. I hope you understand that.”

“That’s not -” but he wasn’t finished.

“If anything was to happen to you, it would be my fault. I need to know that you’ll be more careful in future.” There was an edge to his words, something that made your stomach knot. Did he think that you were incompetent, that you couldn’t do the job? Or was he just worried  that he’d be blamed if something happened to you?

“I’ll be more careful,” you told him but, still, he kept hold of your arm, thumb hovering just above the bruising, a ghost of a touch that made your heart race.

“I might be your employer, but you should understand just how much power you have in this arrangement,” his voice turned almost soft as he let you go. Before you could even think to ask what he meant, he’d drained his glass, placed it down on the coffee table and was heading towards the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled out of your mouth almost automatically, not sure what else you were supposed to say.

“You can call me Billy,” he told you as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside.

And, then, he was gone.

Again, he’d left you with more questions than you ever thought you’d get answers to. You wanted to feel frustrated, annoyed even, at the way he breezed in and out of conversations, as if you were a plaything, just there for him when he was bored, but all you could think about was his touch.

His hand had been so cold, like death’s icy grip and, when you looked down, you found your arm was covered in goosebumps.

Tomorrow, he’d said. He was going to see you again tomorrow. (Probably because you’d complained about being lonely.) Perhaps you’d be able to learn a little bit more about him, perhaps you’d be able to ask him what he meant when he told you that you had power here.

Before returning to your rooms for the night, you took a moment to move his empty glass from the table, rinsing it out in the sink and returning it to the cupboard where it belonged. The rest of the evening was spent trying to concentrate on reading, in part because you were invested in the book, but mostly because you wanted to have something to talk with him about tomorrow.

But, again, you found yourself distracted; by the conversation you’d had, by the things he’d said and the way he’d looked when he said them and, most of all, by the way his touch had felt on your arm.

It was silly. Ridiculous. You put it down to being trapped indoors for the last ten days and you having spoken to all of two people in that time. It wasn’t him. He could have been anyone and you’d no doubt have felt the same way. You were just starved for human contact.

(Only Billy Russo wasn’t human, was he?)

You kept thinking about his dark eyes and the way he laughed, the subtle way his lips curled up when he found something you said amusing. There was no shame in admitting that he was pretty. 

Pretty in a way that would never fade or alter. Just like Dorian Gray.

Though, as you continued to read, you realised that that comparison certainly wasn’t flattering.

The next day passed much the same as the days before it and, as the hours ticked by, you found yourself almost looking forward to seeing him. Though you didn’t allow yourself to feel excitement, in case he disappointed you by not appearing. You stayed in your rooms until it was almost sunset.

He was already there waiting for you when you stepped out into the penthouse proper, today's blood in one hand, a pack of cookies in the other, and the book wedged under your arm.

“Oh,” you stopped so abruptly you almost fell over your own feet.

“Good evening,” he grinned.

“Good evening, Mr Russo,” you replied, still not moving.

“Billy,” he reminded you. “If we’re going to be living together for a year, you might as well call me Billy.”

“Billy,” you repeated, nodding before looking down. “I have your - I mean, I’ve got today’s -” you struggled, eyes fixed on the sealed bottle of blood in your hand, fresh and still warm.

You could feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what the protocol was in this situation.

“I’ll take that now,” he said but didn’t move.

For a moment more, you remained frozen, feeling utterly ridiculous - and you were certain that he was enjoying watching your confusion.

“Okay, I’ll - I’ll put this in a glass for you,” he didn’t object, so you made your way to the kitchen and set about pouring him a drink.

It was hard not to feel a little horrified - this seemed as close to offering him a vein as you ever hoped to get - but you forced down the discomfort.

“I hope the long sleeves aren’t to cover up more bruises,” he said softly when you finally approached the sofa and took a seat, near him but with enough space that another person would have fit between you.

“No, Mr - Billy. It’s just been cold today.”

“Oh, I can’t say that I noticed...” because of course he hadn’t. “The thermostat is in the library, change the temperature whenever you need to.”

You handed him the glass, a shudder running up your spine when his cold fingers seemed to deliberately graze yours. Your breath caught as you watched him lift the glass to his lips, his eyes closed as your blood touched his lips and you heard the softest sound from the back of his throat. Butterflies filled your stomach and your eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky slowly turn from blue to a progressively darkening pinkish-orange hue.

Billy lowered his glass and remained silent, his eyes following yours to the window, allowing the silence to linger until you chose to break it.

“I thought you didn’t like watching the sunset?” You asked, not daring to look his way.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one and even longer since I had someone to watch it with,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d give it another go.”

“So, the others, the ones before me -”

“I don’t think they cared to notice it,” he cut you off. There was something clipped about his tone, something that told you he didn’t want to talk about them. His attention turned to the book and the packet of cookies resting on your lap. “Were you planning on reading?”

“Yes, or - I don’t know, maybe..." you sighed, finally allowing yourself to look at him. He gave you a questioning look, wanting you to elaborate. “You didn’t warn me about Sybil.”

“I didn’t want to spoil it for you,” a hint of amusement slipped into his tone. “Are you disappointed that they didn’t get their happily-ever-after?”

You looked at him for a moment and quickly found yourself feeling a little annoyed at the implication that you had expected it to be that easy, that you were some hopeless romantic looking for a happy ending in the most ridiculous of places.

“I’m not some naive child. I don’t know what I expected - not a happily-ever-after, but I definitely didn’t expect that,” you tried to explain. “I didn’t expect him to be so... so cruel to her.”

“She let him down, embarrassed him in front of his friends,” Billy offered, almost like he was defending it, “he was disappointed.”

“Disappointed that she no longer needed to act to feel wanted and loved, because she thought she’d finally found that with him?” You answer back, unable to keep yourself from noticing the way the glow of the sunset made his features seem softer. “He showed her what real love could feel like, then he snatched it away from her. It was cruel.”

“You’re right,” he conceded before hesitating a moment. “Maybe I should warn you that he doesn’t get any better. There is no redemption for Dorian Gray.”

“Oh,” At that you felt yourself deflate a little, an odd feeling of disappointment gnawing at your guts. While you’d told him that you weren’t some naive child, hearing that Dorian wasn’t going to get better made you almost want to give up entirely.

Again, he seemed to find some enjoyment in your simple disappointment - something that was starting to get to you.

“I take it you’re used to reading... happier stories?” He asked and you offered a shrug. “Heroes and romance and happily ever afters?”

“Books have always been an escape for me. So, yeah, I like things that I know will end well.” You answered and, for a second, you could have sworn his smile turned a little softer. “Why do you even like this book?” You dared to ask, wanting to understand why anyone could find enjoyment in such misery.

“I think you’d need to finish the book before we could have that conversation,” was all he offered before lifting his glass and, again, you heard that soft sound as he drank. Your heart started to beat a little faster. Billy carefully licked his lips, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting a single drop go to waste. The corner of his mouth curled with amusement again. “Are you sure I’m not your first vampire?”

Your lips parted and, for a moment you couldn’t force the words past the lump in your throat. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he really wanted to know, just like you couldn’t tell if it was his intention to make you feel small. But he did make you feel small, he made you feel like you didn’t understand the world you’d found yourself in; like you didn’t understand vampires or the job you’d agreed to, and like you were too naive to understand his taste in literature.

“No. You’re not,” you answered tersely, trying to hold back your annoyance. “You’re just the first one that I’ve let drink my blood.”

“Good,” he replied without hesitation, seeming to completely ignore your change of demeanour.  

“Good?” What was that supposed to mean?

He shifted, turning so he could face you properly, his foot knocking against yours as he did. 

“Good,” he repeated, the corners of his lips still pulling upwards. “If anyone else had tasted your blood, I doubt they would have been willing to let you go so easily.” He licked his lips and your heart continued to stutter in your chest. His eyes closed for a moment, concentrating on the sound before muttering; “like a hummingbird...”

You didn’t dare move, even though every fibre of your being was screaming at you to pull away when his hand reached for you, fingertips ghosting down your cheek to your neck coming to rest above your rapidly pulsing carotid artery. Frozen, you sat there, his hand on your neck and his dark eyes seeming to stare right into your soul.

Does my blood really taste that good? You wondered.

“It does,” he answered and you realised that you’d spoken the question aloud. 

Something prickled in the back of your mind, a warning you’d been given a long time ago, about how some vampires could trick you and control you, how they could bend you to their will. But, you couldn’t tell if that was what this was, or if you were allowing this because you wanted it, because you wanted to understand. Regardless, you didn’t move. Even as he licked his lips. Even as he leaned closer. 

“What does it taste like?” You heard the question but it took you a few seconds to realise that it had come from your mouth.

“Like sunlight and innocence,” he muttered softly, “sweet, like warm honey. Like life...”

Closer and closer, the cold press of his fingers on your neck sending a shiver down your spine, and a heat in your belly. Your thighs gently pressed together. He made it sound so wonderful, so romantic, like it wasn’t some strange and sordid thing. He made you feel special, made you feel things that you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before.

Before you could even consider the possibilities of what might happen next, he was pulling away from you, and you very quickly returned to your senses, taking an uncomfortable breath.

“What -” you started to ask, needing to know if he’d done something to you, if he’d been trying to control you, but he was already on his feet draining the last of your blood from the glass.

“I’m afraid I won’t have time for one of our little talks tomorrow. I have a meeting just after sunset,” he explained and your eyes followed him as he first moved to the kitchen to put his glass in the sink, then started towards the elevator. He paused once he’d hit the call button. “Keep reading the book. I’m intrigued to know what you’ll think of the ending.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled clumsily from your mouth, an automatic response to the man who was your employer, wanting to regain some sense of propriety.

“Billy,” he countered. “Goodnight, little hummingbird.”

The doors slid shut and you were alone again.

You didn’t move for at least a minute, your head spinning. A hand rose to your neck touching where he had touched you, your skin still feeling cold and prickled with goosebumps. Looking down, you realised that your thighs were still clenched together.

Gathering the book and the untouched packet of cookies, you quickly made your way back to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

End Note : Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter of this story! I hope this lives up to expectations. I'm already really enjoying writing this one. Also, sorry as always that I'm constantly so slow at responding to comments, I'm trying to get better at that

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

@lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @tortilla-chips-and-allioli

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Monkey Business

Thanks for the Ask, Fetifiction

I heard you've got a crush on your gym buddy. You said his name was Amir, right? I know you like his personality or whatever, but he's not exactly your type. Is he? So, I sent you some experimental protein powder. It's called Ape Mode. Slip some of that in his drink...I think you'll like what happens...

"Oh, hey dude," Amir gives a friendly nod, "I almost thought you weren't coming. Did that professor hold class after the bell again?"

"Yup!" your voice shakes as you answer.

It's a lie. You just spent the last twenty minutes trying to spike his sports drink in the locker room. It was hard enough to find the damn thing, but you had to make sure it was definitely his. Luckily, his gym bag is bright yellow. It's pretty hard to miss, so the half empty bottle sitting next to it had to be his.

"He's a real douchebag," your friend complains, "Come on. I just started stretching."

Nervously, you sit beside Amir and try to keep up with his stretches. He asks you about your day and wonders if you need to vent about school. You just shake your head. Amir's caring personality is the best thing about him, but it's also making you feel really guilty for lying to him. Hopefully, that powder doesn't screw him up!

Amir ends the warmup and climbs to his feet. You watch as your best friend walks over to the locker room and pulls out his drink: the one you spiked. For a brief moment, you feel a flash of regret and almost shout out for him to stop, but it's already too late. The moment has passed. Amir is gulping down the entire contents of his bottle. All you can do is stare at him and wait.

"You good, dude?" Amir asks, snapping you out of your daze.

"Yup! Totally...um... let's workout!"

Amir claps you on the back and heads over to a treadmill. The guy is always doing cardio, leaving him thin and nimble, but you'd rather he looked a different way. You want to see him big and brawny like the man of your dreams. Hopefully, by the end of this workout, he will.

It's hard to act normal, but you swallow your anxiety and walk over to a weight machine. It's in the perfect spot to keep an eye on Amir. You want to know as soon as the changes start happening. A small part of you still doubts whether or not Ape Mode will actually work.

30 minutes later...

"Dude, I don't know what's happening! I was just running on the treadmill like normal, but..." he glances down at his swollen arms in disbelief, "well look at me!"

"I don't know either," you tell him with your most convincing voice, "but you look great!"

Amir takes another look down at his biceps. They've easily expanded to twice the size they used to be, but that's not the only thing that's changed. You've been staring at him on the treadmill for the last half hour. His whole body seemed to expand! His thighs thickened and his shoulders broadened. You think he even got taller! Not to mention the dense layer of stubble that's sprouted all over Amir's face.

He hasn't seemed to notice it all yet, but every part of his body seems to have shifted in some way! Seeing your friend transform into your wet dream is a lot more stressful than you imagined. You might be hiding a raging boner, but you're still worried about what will happen when Amir looks in a mirror. What if he doesn't like the new him? You wonder for a second if you should just come clean and tell him about the powder.

Amir flexes his arm, staring at his bulging bicep with a worried look, "I don't know, dude. Should I be worried?"

You look into your friend's vulnerable eyes, "Nope! Let's just get back to our workout."

Amir nods and lowers his tense shoulders. He trusts your judgement and brushes off his concerns. You watch with a mixture of guilt and excitement as Amir saunters back to the treadmill. His ass has even filled out, too!

"Dude!" a deep voice moans behind you.

"Woah!" your jaw drops at the site of Amir. His voice has lowered several octaves to the point where you couldn't even recognize it. His appearance is just as drastically different. The big hairy man standing before you looks only vaguely like the friend you know and love.

"What, is it bad? I don't feel good..." Amir groans, "Buh-UUuurrrp!” A low gutteral belch voices out of his stomach.

You don't know how to react. His transformation is progressing wildly, and you're almost too turned on to comfort him!

"I was just running, but my steps just kept feeling heavier, and I was feeling itchy all over, and my shirt is pinching me, and..." he trails off as he scratches his gut absent-mindedly.

It looks like he's gained sixty pounds, so it's no wonder that his shirt is feeling tight! Some of that weight isnt muscle, either. Amir has a bit of a gut, now, and with his shirt soaked in sweat, you can see how hairy his new chest is. His entire body seems to be sprouting fur like he's some kind of animal!

"Don't worry about it," you say, grabbing Amir's hand in an effort to calm him down. You might as well commit to his transformation at this point! It's obviously working!

"But, I'm so fat and hairy," he grunts slowly, "And I can't move ten inches without sweating like a pig!" his stomach growls before his bubbling up his chest, "Buur…brrruUuUUUP!”

"Hey these changes are normal, big guy," you pat him on his big meaty back, "I like the new Amir."

Amir frowns and rips his hand away from yours. Before you know it, he's stomping back over to the treadmill with heavy steps that shake the floor. He seems to have a little less patience than he used to. Maybe he's just frustrated by all the changes?

"Amir can we go now?" you ask for the third time in a row, "You've been staring at yourself in that mirror for an hour now!"

He doesn't seem to hear you. Amir has packed on so much fat, muscle, and hair that he looks completely unrecognizable. He almost seems more like he's an animal than your old friend.

He's been watching the final touches of his transformation take place in his new form, only pausing to occasionally scratch his ass or sniff his pits. Of course, the entire gym is giving him angry looks. A cloud of strong BO is wafting off of him, and it doesn't help that he keeps burping and farting loud enough for everyone to hear. Amir seems totally oblivious to how uncomfortable he's making everyone, so you're left to feel all the social awkwardness.

"Amir, come on," you tenderly grab his hairy forearm.

"GrrrUH!" Amir growls and rips his arm away again.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. You wanted Amir to look like a hairy beast, not act like one! How the hell are you supposed to get him out of here, let alone fall in love with you? He's acting like a big stupid caveman!

Feeling defeated, you stumble over to the locker room. If your going to leave, you at least want something to cover the tent in your shorts. Amir's bright yellow backpack would never fit on his massive frame anymore. He probably couldn't even remember how to put it on. With a sigh, you pick the thing up hold it close to your waist.

"MmnNanna?" a curious grunt comes as you reenter the gym. Amir, the huge hairy beast is staring at the yellow backpack with hungry eyes. "Nanna," he growls more definitively.

"You want a banana?" you ask gingerly.

"Mmmmngh!" he nods emphatically, licking his lips.

This is yellow backpack must be your ticket to controlling him! "Follow me," you smile, finally understanding how this beast of a man.

With lumbering steps, Amir stumbles behind you. It's a good thing he's hot, because he's lost all the intelligence he'd had before. All you had to do was say the word banana and now he's following you out to the car, drooling the entire way. You can't help but chuckle at your gigantic friend following behind you like a big dumb animal.

In the car, you toss the yellow bag as far back as you can. All three hundred pounds of Amir jumps inside and you slam the door shut behind him. Now you just have to get the guy home with him getting too angry.

"BuuuUughHnnannNnaAH!" he bellows, beating his chest with wild fury.

"Ok, ok! I'll go buy a damn banana."

"Nnngh!" Amir clenches your wrist before you can get out of the car. "...nanna!" he grunts, staring at your crotch like it's his first meal in weeks.

"Oh," you gasp. You didn't know he meant that banana. Amir's transformation might not have been what you expected, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying your new friend. This is going to be an interesting car ride...

[kalideshawnwrites]

Gym Bae

Warnings: 18+, oral (giving & receiving), fingering, intercourse, dirty talk, etc etc)

Word count: 5500+

Planted in front of the mirror as I admired how these new Nike Support High-Waisted leggings hugged my thick thighs. Deciding between wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut out over my sports bra or only wearing my sports bra had me dazed. I chose the first option, sliding my black and white Air Max 90's on, walking out of my room.

Gliding down the hall, I grabbed a towel, my keys, gym bag and closed the door behind me.

"I wonder if he's going to be there", I said to myself as I leap into my Granite Crystal Metallic Rubicon. ‘I Like It’ by Cardi B blared through the speakers taking up all the few minutes of time it took to arrive at 24 Hour Fitness. Glancing at the clock, it was 10:10 pm and the parking lot was fairly empty. Though the lot was bare, much to my excitement, his shiny all black Challenger was parked near the door. The mere thought of him shirtless, glistening, bobbing his head to what I assume to be some 90’s rap caused rambunctious butterflies to fill my stomach.

Today was arm day. Walking over to the free weights, which were directly in his view, I reached for a 12 pound dumbbell. Cleaning off a workout bench, I adjusted the back so that I could sit up straight, and see him in the reflection of the wall to wall mirror in front of me. I tried not to make it obvious that I wanted him to watch, but shit, I did.

My arms truly did need the workout. I increased the volume of my ‘Work It’ playlist and began to curl 3 sets of 15 on both sides. Once this set is complete, I have my eyes set on the resistance area for some pull ups.

The cool guzzle of water gave me the push I needed to complete the next half of my arm workout. Walking over to the chest press machine, I glanced in his direction. He was on the treadmill running, staring at me.

Yeah daddy, keep watching.

My mild obsession with this guy who reminded me of Ghost from Power began 3 months ago when I first took a tour of this gym. Seeking to improve my overall consistency and clear my mind from work, I immediately signed up. Spending the past 2 years working at a Public Relations firm was pleasant until our recent leadership change. My new ‘manager’ is a woman who seems like there is a stick permanently lodged up her ass. During her second month at my job, I knew that if I wanted to keep my job, I would need a frustration outlet. Having been involuntarily celibate means that there isn’t a man around to fuck the frustration out of me.

After my workout was complete, I decided to take a swim before heading home. Those beautiful butterflies showed up again as I walked right past him on the way to the ladies locker room. A side-eye smile on my left, he nodded back. Goddamn, his energy is strong.

Always keeping a swimsuit in my assigned locker along with fresh panties, deodorant, facial cleaner and moisturizer, I peeled off my t-shirt, sports bra and Nike pants placing them in my gym bag. Slipping on my Nike Slides, I move through the shower area, sauna and finally toward the pool door.

The water is nice. It isn’t cold as hell like a normal outdoor pool. No this a little to expensive gym membership included a heated pool, many lanes for relay swimming and water aerobics. After swimming to the opposite side of my abandoned lines, I heard footsteps approaching.

"Do you mind company?"

"No." I smiled back at him as I wipe the water running down my face.

"Aight, I'll be back in a second.”

Since the pool is only accessible through the locker rooms, I assume he was either looking for me since I hadn’t come back out the front door of the ladies room, or he genuinely wanted to take a swim.

Fuck, I thought to myself as he returned. He has on some black swimming trunks that rested right below his V cut abs. His left arm has a full sleeve of colorful tattoos and the rest of his body looked bare. He definitely spent his time on that body. He looked at least 6'3" or close to it.

Moving back toward me as I sat on the raised seat inside the pool, ”Do you mind if I turn some music on?”

"No, I don't mind."

I could now see his back had black and grey wings and rest in peace in the middle with someone’s name and year of death. A glass covered speaker and attached aux cord, he plugged it into his phone. He began playing some shit I never heard before. I’m not too concerned with the music though. He is enough of a distraction.

Diving in at the 10 foot end of the pool, he swims over to me.

“Hey," Wiping the water from his face. "I'm Taurus."

"Hi Taurus, DeLorean."

"Nice to meet you, DeLorean."

The way he said my name, He had me.

"That's an interesting name, Taurus.”

Chuckling, “Yes, I get that all the time. You can call me Tory. My mother named be that because my pops was a Taurus and she is in to that zodiac shit heavy. I was born shortly after my dad passed away so she thought it was fitting to name me Taurus. My father didn’t want a Junior since his name was Thaddeus.”

“OMG! Yea you don’t necessarily give off Thaddeus vibes, but I’m sure he was a cool dude.” We laughed together is comfortable unison.

“He was. She said of all the men she ever dated, he understood her the most. I think that earth energy is what she loved.” Tory became caught up in his thoughts.

Finally back to this reality, “I’ve been seeing you a lot around here.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“More like returning the glances.”

“Oh, so you noticed?” I could feel my face become warm with slight embarrassment, but I also feel my pussy twitch with excitement.

With the warmest smile, “I noticed you 3 months ago when you were on your gym tour with Anthony. I play the long game baby girl. When I saw you come in tonight acting like you were really lifting weights, I decided that I would finally approach you.” He playfully laughed while calling me out on my fake workout.

“Oh don’t do me like that, I really was working out.” I shot back while flexing my triceps.

“Yea okay. So, you wanna do some laps or were you fake swimming too?”

“Now, how do you fake swim?! Come on, let’s swim the length of the pool and back.”

We make it a few feet over to the top and begin. Little does he know I was the swim team captain in High School and College so fake arm workout or not, he’s in for a beating tonight.

-

After a brutal loss, Tory asked if I wanted to get some food. It is almost 12 am but we're in L.A. so I know some shit is open.

"Can you pass me the ketchup?”

“Sure, here you go.” Tory passes to me while holding my gaze. Aside from the few glances and the dimly lit pool area, this is the true first time being close enough to see Tory’s eyes up close. His eyes were light brown and hooded shaped eyes. Full beard and plump lips to match, now i’m in a daze.

"DeLorean?" He motioned the ketchup my way as I am lost in his lips.

"Thanks." I smiled taking the bottle from his hand. "You can call me Lori.”

Wow, now we’re Lori and Tory.  I felt corny for a second but whatever. He's gonna be daddy most of the time depending on how this plays out.

"So where you from Lori?" He asks before taking a bite of his breakfast burrito.

"I'm from L.A. Been here all my life. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Detroit. I moved here two years ago for a job. Plus I was tired of the cold weather."

"I'm sure. I've never experienced snow but I don’t even like to be cold in my own house."

He cackled, ”You should visit and experience some snow girl, it's nice if you don't have to drive in it or be in it for too long."

"Maybe," I said as I eat a fork full of hash browns.

"So, can I call you some time?"

"Took you long enough to ask."

Tory smiled at my response.

Damn that smile.

“Here, put your number in my phone.” Tory hands me his phone.

“You forgot to unlock it.” I move my hand back across the table for return.

“4566.”

Typing the code, his background picture is a beach.

“Beautiful photo,” I compliment navigating to his contacts.

“Thank you, I took it on vacation last year. I take a solo vacation each year to clear my head and visit a new place.”

Adding my name to his address book under Lori with muscle arm emoji next to it, I hand it back to him.

“Here.”

Smirking at his screen, “Oh, you funny, let me fix this.” Flipping the phone around to show me, He replaced the muscle arm emoji with the lips emoji. Smiling, I give him a questioning look.

“I want to always be reminded of your beautiful lips when I speak to you.”

I could feel my nipples stiffen. Tory didn’t even say with a sexual undertone. It was genuine.

We finish our meals and I wait for Tory to return to the table after paying our bill at the register near an old school Juke box. Shortly after, we were standing at my car door.

“So Lori, I know we just formally met, but i’m hitting up this party tomorrow for my homie birthday, would you like to accompany me?

“I could probably fit that in my schedule.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose if you had other shi…”

Cutting him off before he could finish, I was not about to talk myself out of dick.

“Naw. I’m sure I’ll be able to go.”

“Aight, do you mind if I pick you up and we ride together?”

“Yea that’s fine.”

“Cool. I’ll text you so you have my number and you can give me your address. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow Lori.”

“Same here Tory.”

We part ways and I drive home.

Drying off after a refreshing shower, I hear my phone ding with a text alert.

“This is Tory, did you make it home?”

“Yes. Just stepped out of the shower.”

Yea, I wanted him to have a nice lil mental picture of me, wet and naked before he went to sleep.

“Aight ma, sleep well.”

“Thanx, same to you.”

I adore Saturday nights in the summer. Tory texted me an hour ago to let me know he would be at my house around 9 pm. The party will be at a nightclub they rented for the entire night.

To start, I took a relaxing bath, followed by a shower, shaving almost my entire body. Deciding on a wash and go hairstyle, I generously applied my conditioner to my hair. Siri announces Tory’s update, “Do you want anything from the store?”

“Hey Siri, reply to Tory, can you grab me bottle of water and some jolly ranchers?”

She announces his reply, “Tory says aight, see you soon.”

Just as I was zipping up the side of my dress, the doorbell rings.

Peeking through the peephole, I braced myself. Tory looked delectable.

Daddy had on this forest green custom fitted suit with a black button-down underneath. He has two buttons at the top undone with some black loafers. Line up is fresh accompanied with Gucci frames.

Trying my best to steady my breath, I open the door. Tory stands stuck for a moment before uttering a simple, “Hi.”

“Come in, I just need to put my shoes on.” I feel his eyes on me as I walk down the hall. My dress, a hot pink bodycon that had triangle cut outs between my breast and stomach. The same pattern in the same spot around my lower back.

After stepping into my sparkly open toe heels, Tory kneels to help me fasten the straps around my ankles. We make eye contact, “Damn, you are beautiful.”

“Thank you. You clean up nice yourself.”

Crowned passenger princess for the evening, I enjoy the impending sunset as we cruise toward the not too far venue. He plays a mix of slow jams and smooth rap while we ride in silence. Just as the last few rays peered over the horizon, we park in the lot adjacent to the building.

Tory and I dance for hours. He only has a couple shots in comparison to my 3 watermelon long islands. I hold my liquor pretty well and tonight, he’s making me feel so safe. As we periodically meet his friends, he introduces me as DeLorean. I figure two things: He didn’t want to explain that I am basically a stranger or he didn’t want other people calling me what he calls me.

It is almost 1 am and He whispers in my ear, “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” a seductive look in my eye tells him I’m ready for the second half of our date.

Holding my hand, he leads me out of the party while he waves his goodbyes to his closest friends. He guides me to the car door, opening it, allowing me to slide in.

“You hungry?”

“Hell yea, but can we pick up something and eat at my place?”

“No problem, do you have a taste for anything?”

“Uh, lets get some tacos from this spot near my house.”

Due to the late hour, I ask Tory to park in my garage so that the birds do not ruin his car with poop. With the alcohol having a ticklish effect on me, I laugh through each breath explaining that I have angry birds that like to poop on cars at night when parked on the street.

Fully aware that we just met, our connection seems otherworldly. I want his company and if he spends the night, I’m content with it.

He places the Bart’s Mexican Bistro bags on the counter.

“Make yourself at home, I’m going to change into something more comfortable. You are more than welcome to help yourself to something to drink. I have juice, soda or water.”

“Aight, I’m going to grab my jogging pants from my car.”

Changing into some navy blue yoga pants and a matching navy cropped racerback top, I descend the stairs to see Tory in a white undershirt and grey jogging pants.

I quickly glance down at his dick print and see a nice size one. Licking my lips in approval, I place our tacos on plates and pour myself a glass of water.

“Have you seen Oceans 8?”

“Nah, not yet.”

“Okay, I’m gonna put it on. I’ve been meaning to watch it.”

After we eat, I snuggle next to him on the couch. With the only light in the room coming from the screen, he wraps his arm around my waist with his hand resting on my thigh.

We laugh at a few parts and I begin to drift off. Before I knew it, I felt myself being gently placed in my bed.

“Oh, you could’ve woke me up, I could have…”

“Ssshh, don’t worry about it.”

Tory turns to exit the room and I stop him. Moving the covers back behind me signaling him to join me, he doesn’t hesitate and lays right next to me.

He doesn’t hesitate and laid right behind me. I drift off to sleep, periodically feeling his dick jump.

It is the next morning and I rise to an empty bed. For a second, I question if he actually stayed over until I smell food coming from downstairs.

Taking a pit stop to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I walk into the kitchen, “What’s all this?”

“Well, I could tell you were resting peacefully so I decided to cook us breakfast. Luckily, you have everything.”

“Yea, I just went grocery shopping yesterday. Thank you.” I voice my appreciation as he hands me my plate.

Eggs, biscuits, turkey bacon and strawberries.

Damn this shit looks good.

Asking Alexa to play my morning playlist, we dig in and share our favorite music genres, facts about our jobs and weekend habits. Once we were done eating, Tory placed both our plates in the sink and washed them.

“Oh, I can get that later.”

“Nah, it’s cool, I can knock them out before I leave.”

Damn, he cooks and can clean. Daddy is earning his points today.

Escorting Tory to his driverside door, we embrace with a nice long hug. He spoke low into my ear, “I had a great time, I won’t be a stranger.”

As I pulled back form the hug, “you better not be.”

He peels out of my driveway and I close the garage door as soon as he’s no longer in sight. Now in my room, undressing to take a shower, I notice a note on my nightstand. It was a drawing of a sunflower in pencil with the words below it that read “As you slept, your hair was sprawled out on your pillow and you were at ease. You reminded me of a sunflower. Have a good day beautiful.”

I propped the note up next to a bouquet of tulips on my nightstand and got in the shower.

-

Unlike Saturday nights, Sunday nights were reserved for preparing for my work week. I deep condition my hair, finish laundry, and meal prep for a few days.

I hear my phone buzz on the counter, “Whaddup Lori, how are you?”

“Hey Tory, I’m alright, just getting ready for the week, how about you?”

“I’m chillin, getting ready to head to the gym in a few.”

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth wondering if he mentioned it because he wants me to come up there.

“Oh, nice. I could definitely use a workout after all that good food we’ve had the past couple days”

“Same here. I’ll be there around 10:00pm. It would be a pleasure to see if you if you decide to come workout.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there.”

I had on my pajamas for the night but I can put that shit back on later. Rummaging through my drawers, I found some jogging pants and a sports bra. I opted to go without the T-shirt this time. Leaving the conditioner in my hair, add the rest of my food to glass containers, grab my jacket and head out.

Tonight, the parking lot was much more crowded. I arrived at 9:50 and sat in my car for a second.

Answering my sister’s call, “Hey sis, what’s up?”

“Hey Lo, what you doin mama?”

“About to get this workout in.”

“Oh nice, you finally speak to that guy you’ve been eyeing this whole time?”

“Yes, he actually approached me.” I decided to leave out the part about him staying the night for now. My sister can be overprotective and I don’t want to hear that shit right now.

“Ok well, I want to hear all about it later. Go ahead and workout girl. Talk soon.”

Raising the speed setting on the treadmill to 4.2, I jogged catching up on YouTube videos. Feeling his presence near me, I remove my headphone just as he greeted me, “Hey gorgeous.”

“Hey, are you gonna run with me?”

“Nah, I’ll let you work out in peace. I’m gonna hit the weights then play some basketball for a while. Come see me before you leave if you’re done before me.”

“Okay, I will.”

Damn, he remembers me speaking about how my workouts ideal times for me to clear my head and brainstorm my ideas for my future business.

I would love to have a work out session with him one day, but I really do enjoy this quiet time for brainstorming.

After about an hour and a half, I see Tory walk toward the water fountain, “Hey boo, I’m about to head out.”

“Aight, let me grab my bag and I’ll walk you to your car.”

Waiting in the vestibule, he did not make me wait for long. Placing his hand on the small of my back, he guided me out the door to my driver side door.

“How was your workout?”

“It was needed. I feel good and I have some new ideas that I need to document before I sleep tonight. How about you?”

“I think I burned off those tacos.” We share a laugh. “It was nice to see you today. I’ll hit you up sometime this week.”

Tory leaned in for a hug and he placed a kiss on the skin just to the right of my lips. He smelled so fucking good even after an hour and a half workout. It has been a few full moons since I embraced someone I am attracted to.

Thinking about him my entire ride home, I barely remember how I got home.

Rinsing out the conditioner, I stand beneath the shower head recalling how Tory felt laying beside me the night before. My hands trail from my curls down my neck, landing on my breasts lathering the soap. Switching back and forth between pinching each nipple, I yearn for Tory to be behind me now. Even though I am not against fucking “early”, I don’t want shit to get complicated by fucking too soon. Finger tips now applying pressure to my clit, it begins to swell. I cannot stand any longer, I sit down, feeling pressure from multiple causes, hearing myself moan louder than Usher coming from my bluetooth speaker. This will have to do until Tory is present to replace my hands with his.

Wednesday morning came and I realize I have not heard from Tory since Sunday. I am not worried, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little salty about it. Just as quickly as I had the thought, my phone buzzed.

“Whassup ma, how’s your week going?”

Damn, speak of the devil.

I can’t help but smile, “It’s going well so far. I’ve been listening to music all morning at my desk, which has made it bearable so far. How about you?”

“Things are good today, I was in the airport most of yesterday. My flight was delayed.”

“Damn. Where are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You can ask me anything ma. I’m in San Antonio until tomorrow night for work. It’s hot as hell here.”

“ahahhaha, I know. My cousin lives there and you basically need to be naked during the summers to get any relief.”

“Lol, I’ll have to be with you on that next trip.”

“Lol silly. That would be nice tho…”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I would love to see you when I get back to L.A. if you’re not busy.”

“I would like that too. I’m off Friday so just hit me up.”

“I will. I have to get back to my meeting, but I will speak with you soon babygirl.”

Thursday night is here and I find myself laying in bed watching an episode of ‘Girlfriends’ from my box set that was gifted to me from a friend at a past birthday dinner. This is my shit. I check my phone, 11 pm and a recent text.

“Whaddup Lori, I’m back in town. Let me know if you’re available for breakfast tomorrow. I know it’s late, if you don’t see this until the morning, let me know.”

“I’m awake, just watching Girlfriends. Breakfast sounds nice. What time?”

“Okay, okay, Girlfriends. I used to watch that all the time. Mya was my favorite character, lol. I can pick you up around 10 am.”

“Lmao, Mya? Really? She’s funny, but Joan is my favorite. I still call her Joan when I watch Blackish. 10 is good bae.”

“Hahah, Joan is cool too.”

“How was your flight?

“Smooth. Quiet for the most part. I’m glad to be home tho. My bed is way better than that hotel shit.”

“I’m sure. What area do you stay in?”

“I’m about 20 minutes from you near downtown.”

“Nice, I need to pick up some items downtown, do you mind if we run a couple errands after breakfast?”

“We can do whatever you want.”

Little do you know, what I want to do isn’t what I need to do.

Drifting off, I must have left him on read because my phone started buzzing.

“Hello,” in my most unsexy voice.

“You fell asleep on me girl?”

“I did baby, I’m tired.”

“Get some rest ma. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mmhmmm. Goodnight baby.”

I can’t recall his reply, I was gone…

9:30 am and I am seated at my kitchen island opening mail in a strapless yellow maxi dress paired with gold sandals and a gold crossbody Gucci bag. One last mirror check, I danced to my morning playlist in full excitement to spend the day with my “man.” My skin is glistening from my favorite body oil full of shimmery shit making me look like a bronzed goddess. Spraying Fabulous by Tom Ford on my neck, wrists, back of my knees, and ankles, I snatch my phone off the charger.

My doorbell rings and my heart pounds through my chest. Breathing and walking, I shake the anxious feeling just in time to turn the knob. Tory has the most beautiful spirit for him to look so dominant. The man is fine as fuck and every time I am around him, I have to squeeze my legs together hoping that my thighs will impede the slow trickle of nectar that I know will soon spill from my juice center.

Smiling wide, “Whaddup girl,” Tory leans down hugging me, kissing me on that soft part near my lips that I’ve grown to adore.

“Are your ready?”

“Yea, let’s go.”

A gentleman always, he opens my door. His car smells so good, I know that smell anywhere, it is ironically ‘Gentleman’ by Givenchy. I lean back and inhale.

“You good?” Watching me with my eyes still closed. “Yea, I’m good. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

We arrived at a new to me breakfast spot that Tory says he frequents a few times a month. A mimosa and veggie omelet for me, bacon and french toast with a Lemonade and Vodka for the handsome king across from me.

We visit each store on my list downtown ending our trip at the grocery store on the way back to my place. I tell Tory I will cook him dinner to repay him for cooking my breakfast last week. I would not accept no for an answer. He carried all my bags in including the groceries, my shopping bags and my mail. This gentleman shit is exactly how I’ll end up choking on his dick tonight.

“Damn that was good. Where you learn to cook like that Lori?!”

“Aww thank you. I grew up with my mom and grandmother in the same house. They had be start cooking at the age of 8 and I’ve been cooking ever since.”

“I’ll have to thank them one day. I haven’t eaten like that in a very long time.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed.”

He leaned in for a kiss. I froze, but kissed back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now.”

Tory kissed me again, this time, it lasted a long time. Hands guiding me from beside him to now straddling him, his hands were under my dress planted, gripping my thighs while my arms stayed glued to his face.

I stop the kiss, sitting back down next to him.

“Tory, I am really feeling you and I would like for this to go further. I just don’t want anything to change if we were to have sex this early in our… whatever this is.”

“I understand that. And I’m feeling you too. I think about you all the time. I’m not speaking to any other women and our time together is always something I look forward to. Seeing where this goes is a priority for me. If you want to just chill tonight, we can. Ain’t no rush baby.”

Cruising through my streaming channels, we decided on Equalizer 2. My new favorite spot on the couch is currently in the corner between the chaise lounge and the love seat, laying on him with his arm around my waist. And this time, I wasn’t sleepy. I was horny. Thinking of a way to curb my urges, I considered going to my room to play with myself and act like I was in the bathroom for a while. Then, I thought that maybe we could just do everything but intercourse. I even considered holding out until he left to satisfy the pressure building in my sacral.

Glancing down, I saw his dick twitch in his jeans.

Licking most of the lip gloss from my lips, I told myself that no matter what happened next, I wouldn’t regret my decision. I needed him.

Standing slowly, I faced him. He looked up at my concern before seeing the lust in my hooded eyes. I told him to unzip me. A sexy smirk lined his lips as he slid my long zipper down the middle of my back just above my ass. I let the dress fall. Completely naked, he gasped. I side stepped over the fabric and grabbed his hand to lead him to my bedroom.

“Close my door baby.” I instructed as I rest on my back spread for him.

He walks closer unbuckling him pants, “You sure?”

“Yes. I held out as long as I could,” a laughing sigh between us. We both knew that was all of one hour and 20 minutes.

Equally as naked as me, Tory met me beneath the covers and slowly kissed me. I reached for his almond brown thickness but he whispered “Don’t rush it, let me take care of you” while holding my hand.

Melted into the sheets well before I felt him inside of me, Tory rubbed my inner thighs as he made his way to my dripping center. I was so close to climaxing, if his pinky brushed against my clit, I was going to squirt. He licked my inner creases praising, “Mmhhmm, you smell so sweet.”

All I could muster was a constant moans as he went to work devouring all the juice I built up over the past few days. As if I could fall further, I released the loudest moans as Tory sucked my clit like he owned me.

“Tory! I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can baby. Give it to me.”

“It’s yours baby.”

“That’s right girl, don’t hold back from me baby.”

My body began to shake, giving in to him. Tory didn’t let up either. He kept slurping taking everything I was wiling to offer. Another orgasm in route, Daddy slid his middle and ring fingers in to massage my g-spot.

With divine precision, Tory brought me to my second release of the evening.

“I can’t take it daddy, please… please, please, ahhhhh”

“Mmm, Daddy? I like that baby.”

That was clearly the first time I called him that out loud. It slipped out, but I he earned the title and much more.

“Daddy, please give me that dick.”

“You ready for me already?” That beautiful smile pressed into my neck before he peppered kisses to my glowy skin.

“Yes, baby, please.”

Tory dragged his thick head up and down my folds as I braced myself for impact.

He slid in and I came again.

“Oh shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet.”

“You’re filling me up baby.”

“Yeah, too much baby?”

“No baby, I can take it. Let me turn over.”

Tory gave me exactly 5 seconds to lay on my stomach before he pulled me into the deepest arch. He came back with vengeance. I wrapped my hair around my own hand, pulled and cried into the pillow as I took each inch of his solid pipe.

Daddy pushed my hand away to grab a fist full while letting out the sexiest moan to ever grace my ears.

“Fuck I’m about to nut.”

“Nut for me baby. It’s mine.”

“Ugh shit ma. You’re drownin’ me. I’m-“

I felt that vein in his dick pulsate and immediately maneuvered to suck his dick clean. Tory fell back onto the bed in a daze.

“Fuck baby, stop, come on. It’s sensitive.”

I didn’t pay him no mind. I earned this treat and when I had my fill, I joined his side.

Our breathing began to slow. It was Friday night and no work in the morning. I drifted off in his arms.

[atlafan]

No Complaints - Part One

a/n: hellloooooooo the fic you’ve all been waiting for is finally here. Based off these posts, you all wanted a full fic, so as per usual, first part on here, the rest on patreon. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much smut in one fic, so buckle up. I honest wasn’t sure what I wanted to name this fic. I kept calling it ‘happy himbo’ but that didn’t work. He’s sort of just like a polite dirtbag, but with an endearing twist! You’ll see the theme with “no complaints” throughout the fic. I spent way too long on this banner. I photoshopped that bottom half onto that woman and I also created that entire wall because I’m insane. ANYWAYS PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE NOTES AND COME TO MY ASK BOX AND JUST PLEASE GIVE ACTUAL INTERACTIONS WITH THIS PLEASE I’M SO TIRED also there are some strong sex and the city inspired vibes

Warnings: just...a ton of filthy smut, anal, public sex, dominant and submissive vibez...just...yeah

Words: 11.6K

Tumblr Masterlist I Patreon Masterlist I Ask

With the way Layna’s cheeks went bright red when she glanced at the text that just came in on her smart watch, each of her friends put down their forks and stopped paying attention to their delicious brunch food to ask her what just got sent to her, and by who.

“Who just made you make that face?” Christine asks with a smirk.

“Hm? Oh, no one.” Layna waves her off. “Anyone want another mimosa?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Serene says. “Is it a guy?”

“It is, but it’s no one special.”

“Then you can tell us what it said.” Michelle says.

“Please don’t make me show you, it’s embarrassing.” Layna groans.

“Wait, is it the himbo from your gym?” Christine asks excitedly.

“What himbo from your gym? You’ve never mentioned a himbo from your gym.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. There’s this really hot guy that works at my gym. He’s sort of like a trainer, but he does other maintenance stuff too. We’ve hooked up a couple times. It’s not a big deal.”

“What makes him a himbo?” Michelle asks.

“Um, well…” She looks down at her phone and flips it over. She unlocks it so her friends can see the text he sent her. “He is a big fan of emojis, types with the worst grammar, and well…he’s basically just a polite dirtbag.”

Her friends all look disgusted as they look up from Layna’s phone.

“I’m sorry, but why are you bothering with this idiot?” Serene asks.

“Because the sex is incredible. I don’t think a guy has ever made me orgasm as often as this guy has, and he’s so attentive. He’d go down on me for hours if I let him.”

“When and how did this all start?” Christine asks. “Because the last you told me about the dude was that you just thought he was cute, but you hadn’t even spoken.”

“Alright, I’ll start from the beginning. But I need more alcohol.”

**

A few weeks ago…

Layna started going to a new gym. She could afford to go to a better one with more space that is closer to work so it’s easier for her to go after a long day. It helps to clear her head. The life of an art dealer seems glamorous, but it’s a lot of work. You are constantly schmoozing with artists to get them to have a show at your gallery, and then you have to market that show to all the right people to make sure the art is actually bought. Not to mention working with a catering crew, lighting experts, and having to smile the entire time because you need the commission from the sales. It’s a lot of long hours and working on the weekends. So having a good gym close by that Layna can go to on her way home is super helpful.

The locker room is extremely clean and sanitary. There’s even a steam room! Not that Layna has a huge desire to sit naked in a pool of her own sweat with a ton of other naked women around her, but a good steam after a particularly grueling workout is nice. The lockers are spacious enough for all her things. She changes, wipes her makeup off, throws her hair up into a high pony and makes her way out to the main area.

Layna likes to warm up on the treadmill. She doesn’t run, but she works her way up to walking at a faster pace and at an incline. She only does about a mile, it’s enough to get her muscles warm and ready for the strength training portion of her workout. She doesn’t love using machines. She never feels like she knows what she’s doing, but it can be boring to do the same things with the same weights. She keeps looking over at the leg extension machine. It seems simple enough, but she’s honestly a little too scared to use it. So she doesn’t.

She sticks to her normal routine, goes for a relaxing steam, and then takes a quick shower before getting ready to go home. As she’s leaving, she notices a very cute guy going around wiping down machines and collecting rags and towels people have left behind. He’s wearing a shirt with the gym’s logo on it, so she assumes he works there. He looks up and over at her, making eye contact for only a moment, but the way he grins at her makes her blush and smile nervously back at him before leaving.

She goes most days after work, and it’s the same thing. She does her usual routine, but looks off at the machines she’s too afraid to use. It takes about a week of stolen glances, but by Saturday morning, when there are less people around, the very cute guy approaches Layna before she can take any weights off the racks.

“Hi.” He says. “You’re a new member here, right?”

“Yeah.” She nods, smiling. “Is it that obvious?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I work a lot of hours here and I hadn’t seen you before this week, so I just assumed. I hope this doesn’t come off as creepy, but I see you looking around a lot. Is there something you want to try that you might feel too nervous about?”

“Oh, gosh.” She slides a hand down her face. “Yeah, I want to try some of those leg machines, but I hate being the person that takes up time learning how to use it when other people are waiting. They’re sort of intimidating.”

“You’re allowed to take up space, so don’t worry about that. It’s less busy today, I could show you how a few things work if you want.”

“Are you a professional trainer?”

“You mean do I have a college degree in athletic training with a ton of certifications? No, but I am a personal trainer, and I do have the certifications to train others. We all learn how each machine works so we can teach you all.”

“Alright, then, yes I would appreciate some help. Um, what’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.”

“M’Harry.” He extends his hand, and she takes it to shake.

“I’m Layna.”

“That’s a really pretty name.” He smiles. “Come on, I’ll show you the leg extension machine first.”

Harry has Layna sit down, and he goes over what a good amount of weight to start is his, and how many reps she should do how many times to see improvements. She’s a little embarrassed using it since he’s watching her, but she calms down a little when he gives her shoulder a squeeze and tells her she’s doing it perfectly.

“Is it alright that I just touched you? I should have asked first, I’m sorry.” He tells her after taking his hand away from her quickly.

“It’s fine! I don’t mind if you touch me.” She says with a flirtatious glint to her eyes that he picks up on right away.

She does fifteen reps, three times, then Harry takes her to the leg curl machine. She’s in a much more compromising position now because she’s laying on her stomach with her ass in the air and the backs of her legs have to lift up the weight. Harry watched her form, but wasn’t shy about checking out her ass either. The third and final machine he shows her is the hip abduction/adduction machine. He explains that there are different muscle groups worked depending on if your thighs are on the inside of the pads or on the outside.

Opening and closing her legs like this in front of him really shouldn’t have been such a turn on for either of them, but it was. The eye contact was strong, and Layna could feel herself getting worked up. When she’s done, she wipes off the machine, but makes no move to walk away from him.

“I don’t usually advertise this, but one of the perks of working here is that we get a private bathroom that you need a key to get into.” He tells her lowly so no one else around will hear. “If you grab your stuff to shower and meet me by the employee door on the inside of the locker room, I can let you in.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nods.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation. “You want to fuck me?”

“Jesus!” She shushes him, making him laugh. “Yes, you didn’t have to ask.”

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page and that you didn’t think I was just going to let you have a more private shower.”

“I understood from your tone. Give me five minutes to grab my things.”

Mid-morning delight isn’t something Layna takes part in very often, but this guy is fucking hot, and he wants to fuck her, so she’s going to let him. She gathers her things and discreetly makes her way to the employees only door at the back of the locker room. Harry cracks it open just enough to see her, then opens it fully to let her in. She follows him down the hall past a large laundry room, and to the right. He scans his keycard on the lock and opens the door for her. When he closes it, he flips the lock so others will know the bathroom is otherwise occupied.

There is a stall to one side with a toilet, and a large sink counter across from that. Harry goes to turn the water on in the large shower on the other end of the room. Layna sets her gym bag down on the counter. Harry comes up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso as he starts to kiss on her neck. Normally, she would care that she was sweaty, but she made sure to wipe her neck down and pat it dry before meeting him at the door. He sucks a bruise into the space behind her ear, causing her to gasp and hook her around his head to tug on his hair. He presses himself against her ass, and she feels how hard he is.

Harry parts from her and turns her around. They launch at each other, teeth clanking as they kiss, each wanting to get their tongue in the other’s mouth. Harry’s hands are all over Layna. He grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it off of her. They clumsily make their way over to the shower as they continue to strip each other of their clothes.

“Wait!” She says just as he’s about to rid her of her leggings. “Shower shoes.”

“Oh! This bathroom gets cleaned like five times a day, it’s all good.”

“Okay.” She nods and lets him proceed.

Once they’re both naked, Harry all but throws Layna against the tile wall of the shower. They’re both under the water, which makes her feel better about his mouth exploring her chest. She nearly loses her balance when he starts sucking on one of her nipples.

“What’s okay and what’s not okay?” He asks her after leaving a nasty bruise on the top of her breast. “Where can I touch?”

“You can…you can do whatever.”

“Layna, I wanna know what makes you feel good or this won’t be any fun.”

“I want you to use me however you like. You can touch wherever you want.”

His lips slot over hers as his hand makes its way between her thighs. His fingers rub through her folds before slowly inserting his middle finger up inside of her. Her head falls back against the tile, and Harry takes the opportunity to kiss on her exposed throat, working his way to the crook of her neck to bite and suck on. She reaches between them to start fisting at his cock, swiping over the tip to spread his precome. He groans into her hot, wet skin, and bucks into her hand. He slips his ring finger inside her, and lifts one of her legs up to rest on the hinge of the arm he’s not using to thrust.

“We need to be sort of quick, so I’m sorry if this gives you whiplash.” He warns her.

At first, Layna is very confused. If he has to fuck her quick and hard, then that’s totally fine. This doesn’t need to be a whole two-act production. She figured since he lifted her leg that he was getting ready to stick his dick in her, but that’s not what he did. Once his fingers were sunk deep inside her, he took a deep breath and started pumping into her at lightning speed. Which, usually that would not feel good, but his fingers pet and drag against her front wall as he’s thrusting in and out, so it feels incredible. He’s not even doing anything to her clit and she feels like she could come from this alone.

“Jesus, fuck!” She nails sink into his shoulders as she holds onto him.

His mouth crashes to hers, probably to help keep her quiet. He swallows every moan, every whimper, every muffled grunt of his name. She’s not sure how his arm isn’t getting tired, but she’s not complaining. No, she feels good, so fucking good, better than she’s ever really felt, and there’s the most perfect amount of pressure in her lower stomach.

You would think with the sound of running water and the fan in the bathroom going that you wouldn’t be able to hear much else. But Layna can hear how wet she is. There’s a squelching sound with each thrust of Harry’s fingers. It’s making her dizzy. She moves to bury her face in his neck so she can breathe a little easier. Her nails are now digging into his back.

“Doing so well being quiet for me.” He says into her ear. “Next time we can go somewhere less public so you can let out all those pretty noises.”

“I’m getting close.” She warns him.

“I know, I can tell.” Normally something so arrogant wouldn’t turn Layna on, but for whatever reason, Harry’s cockiness is doing it for her. “You’re dripping down my wrist, you know that, right? You’ve squirted like two times already.”

“Please, I...Harry, I need to come.”

“So come.” He nips at her earlobe. “Come for me.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her back arches, and it feels so good that the noise that falls from her is silent. Everything goes white. She can tell that she’s gushing around him. He takes his fingers out to watch the rest of it drip out. He slips them back in, almost in a tender way, just cupping her pussy and rubbing it to soothe her and help her calm down. He sets the leg of hers he was holding up down and kisses her.

“That felt amazing.” She breathes. “Want me to do you now?”

“Please. Just jerk it, you don’t have to put your mouth on me this time.”

Layna nods, happy to not be blowing him. She usually prefers to kneel on a pillow, not hard, solid tiles. They continue kissing and licking and nipping at each other while she pumps him. She ends up using both of her hands, and she swears she could have come again from the way Harry moaned in her ear. She lets him come on her tummy, and even scoops some up on her finger to suck on, just so he would have no doubt that she’s a good girl.

They clean each other up and get out of the shower. Harry watches as Layna pulls herself together, and slings her gym bag over her shoulder.

“So, can I get your number?” Harry asks her as he opens the bathroom door to lead her out.

“Um, sure.” She blinks. “Just for sex though, right? I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.” They walk out to the main area of the gym. It’s gotten busier.

“Yeah, just for sex. I’m not looking for anything serious right now either.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp curls. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you started coming in. You’re so sexy.”

“The…the feeling is mutual.” She tells him, feeling her cheeks heating up. “Here’s my phone, you can put your contact in.”

Harry takes her phone and creates his contact. “I just put ‘H’ as the contact name. That’s what most people call me.”

“Cool.” She smiles. “So…I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you around.” He smiles back.

He seemed nice enough, and he turns her on, so Layna felt good about her new fuck buddy. There’s no harm in it. They’re both adults, if they want to stop, they’ll stop.

**

“I’m sorry, you let a strange man finger fuck you in a completely secluded area?” Serene asks.

“Yes.” Layna confirms. “It was like something out of a sex novel, you know? I wanted him, and he wanted me, so I figured what the hell?”

“Have you hooked up since?” Michelle asks eagerly.

“She sure has.” Christine grins.

“Why does Chris get all the juicy gossip?” Serene asks.

“Because she’s the least judgmental out of the three of you. Besides, I haven’t actually told her anything, she just has a sixth sense for this stuff.” Layna answers bluntly. “I knew you wouldn’t approve of me being so reckless, and I knew that Michelle wouldn’t approve of what he does for work.”

“Well, if you’re just fucking him, then it doesn’t matter. Just don’t catch feelings and continue seeing men with good jobs on the side.” Michelle shrugs.

“Why is being a personal trainer not a good job?” Christine asks. “He knows everything about the body, that’s hot.”

“He doesn’t know everything. He just knows how to train people. He never went to college or anything like that.” Layna explains. “Which is fine. That’s all I really know about him. We don’t talk unless we’re fucking.”

“Do you fuck at the gym a lot?” Serene asks.

“No, that was the only time. He didn’t want to risk getting in trouble, which I totally understood.”

“I’m dying to know more, so please continue.” Michelle says.

“Okay, so the second time it happened was about a week later…”

**

Hey, u up?

It was Friday, now technically Saturday since it was two in the morning. Layna would normally be asleep, but she was at work late for a show at the gallery, and she was still feeling riled up from that. So she texted him back.

Hey, yeah I am

Wut r u up 2?

Layna furrowed her brows at the text. Is he drunk? Who over the age of sixteen texts like this? She panics for a moment. What if he’s only college aged. She’s twenty-nine.

That depends…how old are you?

29 how old r u?

Twenty-nine

So r u dtf or nah?

Yeah, wanna come to my place?

Send me the addy

Layna can’t believe she’s about to let a guy who texts like this come over and fuck her. But he made her come so hard last week without even touching her clit! And she gushed and gushed. She wants to see what he can do without a time constraint.

Twenty minutes later, Layna is unlocking the door to her apartment. She lives in a four-story walk up, and she’s on the fourth floor. It’s a pain going up and down the stairs all the time, but she gets the rooftop all to herself, so she can’t complain too much.

“Hey.” Harry gives her a ‘sup’ nod as he comes in. He’s wearing an orange hoodie and black basketball shorts. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Hi, um, it’s right over there – oh!”

He had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. He finds her bedroom and tosses her onto her bed. She had put on a cute set of pj’s, a silk spaghetti string top and shorts to match. But she realizes she could have been in a paper sack and Harry still would’ve fucked her. He peels his sweatshirt off before climbing onto the bed. His lips are on hers only seconds after that.

Layna likes the way Harry kisses. He’s needy and aggressive without it being too gross and sloppy. His tongue is soft and precise, and his lips are smooth and easy to bite at. He definitely uses chapstick regularly. He tastes like mint, like he had just chewed a fresh piece of gum, and he smells woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. It’s all doing wonders for her.

His hands slide up under her shirt and he gropes at her breasts. He tweaks her nipples and grinds himself into her, making her gasp. He’s already so hard. He must be sensitive. That’s hot. He pushes her shirt up over her breasts and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. Her fingers card through his hair as she arches into him. He kisses down her stomach and drags her shorts down her legs.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave your panties on. Next time just open the door naked.” He smirks as he pushes her legs open. “You good if I eat you out?”

“Mhm, yeah. I want you to use me, remember?”

The lights in the room are dim, but still bright enough so Harry can see what he’s doing. He licks up her slit with a long drag of his tongue, then he spits on her before doing it again. Over and over, he kitten licks at her, getting her wet with his spit and her own slick. Even though it feels good, Layna is about to tell him her clit is a little higher up, but she doesn’t get the chance. He found it on his own. He looped his around her thighs, and yanked her to him before he started sucking on her clit.

“Oh, fuck that feels good.” She fists at her blankets and throws her head back.

His tongue flicks back and forth on her clit, then he goes back to sucking on it, welling up his spit every so often to keep her clit wet and comfortable. One of his hands smooths up her stomach, landing on her chest. Layna takes the hint and sucks on his middle and ring fingers. When she’s done, Harry brings them down to her center and sinks them inside. He moans against her when he feels how wet and warm and tight she is.

“Are…will you…shit.” She can’t even speak.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He says lowly, giving her clit a breather while he continues to fuck her with his fingers.

“Will you make me squirt again?” She whimpers. “It felt so good the last time.”

“Yeah? You like getting pounded into hard?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “It feels so good when it hurts a little.”

Harry grins wickedly at her, then brings his mouth back down to her clit while he gives her fast, shallow thrusts with his fingers, finding her g-spot easily. Her hands find his hair again and she tugs hard on his roots. Her hips roll up towards his face, but his free hand pushes down on her lower stomach to keep her in place.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!” She cries out as she makes a mess around his fingers. He moans as he licks her clean and sucks on her pussy. “Fucking hell.” She breathes, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Harry kisses up her body, then licks into her mouth while he takes his shorts and underwear off.

“Sit up.” He tells her and she does so, so he can take her shirt off. He slips his thumb into her mouth and Layna closes her lips around it. “You’re so good. You want my cock?”

She nods as she continues sucking on his thumb. He pulls it from her and gives himself a few pumps before lining up with her. Normally she’d ask a random guy to wear a condom, but she’s on the pill and right now she doesn’t particularly care. She would hope a twenty-nine year old guy would be honest about not being clean. He slowly pushes inside of her, and both of their mouths fall open.

“Jesus Christ.” Layna gasps out as her nails rake down his chest. “Please tell me it’s in all the way.”

“It’s in all the way.” He chuckles.

“Good, I don’t think I could handle much more. Can feel you in my guts.” She half jokes.

“It doesn’t hurt in a bad way, does it?”

“No! No, just give me another second to adjust and then you can move.”

“Layna?”

“Yeah?”

He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, letting his fingers sift through her hair before getting a good grip on her and yanking her head back. “I’m gonna blow your fucking back out.”

**

“Oh my god, he actually said that to you?!” Christine squeals.

“Mhm.” Layna nods.

“And did he?” Michelle asks.

“Yeah, don’t stop there.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. So, yes, he actually said that to me…”

**

Layna tightened around him after he said that to her, which Harry takes note of. He starts to move, rocking and rolling his hips as he thrusts in and out of her. She wraps her legs around his waist, leaving her feet to rest on the base of his spine. Harry comes down chest to chest with her so he can grope her breasts and kiss on her neck.

“Okay so far?” He asks her.

“Yeah, you feel so good, you’re so big.” She musters out.

He pecks her lips before sitting up and throwing her legs over his shoulders. She grips at his thighs as he fucks into her hard and deep. Her back arches and she reaches for her clit. He drops one of her legs to swat her hand away from herself. She looks up at him with a pout.

“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” He says. “I decide when you come, understand?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m sorry.” She says quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I won’t do it again, I’ll wait for you to do it. I just felt so good I wanted to feel-“

“Shut up.”

Layna closes her mouth and lays back into her pillows. In her every day life, she would never let someone get away with speaking to her like that. But Harry? He can say and do whatever the fuck he wants to her.

He leans forward and drives his cock in deeper. He grips the top of her headboard and beats into her. He licks his fingers and starts rubbing her clit. Layna isn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she just scratches at his chest. He seems to like it because he’s moaning pretty loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She pants.

“Beg me for it.” He tells her. “Beg me to come.”

“Please, please let me.” She whimpers. “Please, I’m so close Harry, please.”

He smirks down at her. “Go ahead.”

She smiles at him and lets herself go. Moaning out and grinding up against him. When she’s done, he comes back down to her to kiss her and give her slow rolls of his hips.

“Say ‘thank you Harry’.”

“Thank you Harry.” She says weakly.

“God, you’re so fucking good.” He groans. “Can I fuck you from behind?”

“Yes, please.” She nods rapidly. “That’s my favorite.”

He nods and pulls out so she can get into position for him. He slides back in and reaches up to grip the top of the headboard with one hand, and the back of her neck with the other. And then he’s off. He pounds into her. Layna presses her hands flat to the headboard to brace herself and to stop her head from knocking into it. She moves her hips in circles and fucks herself back on his cock to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, Layna.” Harry moans.

“Shit, please don’t stop, you’re hitting it.” She grunts. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” She has a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks as she whimpers and whines.

“Are you gonna come for me again?”

“Only if you’ll let me, but I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

The bed is shaking and the headboard is knocking against the wall from the force of Harry’s thrusts. Harry’s hand slides from the back of Layna’s neck to the front, and he yanks her up and back until her back is pressed to his chest. He moves his hips in circles along with hers. One arm wraps around her chest, and the other around her waist so he can rub her clit. She slides his hand from her chest back to her throat and presses down on it.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Jesus.” He growls into her ear. “You like being choked?”

She nods and whines as she starts to feel herself getting close again. He stopped right before she could get there a moment ago. She hopes he won’t stop this time. Her head rolls back to his shoulder and her eyes flutter closed. His cock feels so good, it’s sliding in and out of her perfectly. And his fingers on her clit are like magic.

“I want you to come.” He tells her, nipping at her earlobe. “Give it to me, now.”

Layna doesn’t need much more encouragement than that before she loses it. He continues rubbing her clit, making it last as long as possible. When he feels her start to loosen around him, he pushes her to lay on her stomach. He pulls out of her and comes all over her ass and back, not holding back his moans and grunts and groans. When he finishes, he lays on his back next to her to catch his breath. She turns her head to look at him, and he looks at her.

“That was all okay?” He asks softly.

“I liked it, I really liked it.” She breathes. “I like being good. I…I like being called a…a good girl. You’ve almost said it a couple of times, but you just say I’m good. You can call me a good girl.”

“Yeah?” He turns onto his side, smiling at her. “Do you prefer praise or degradation?”

“A mix of both. I really liked the way you spoke to me. It was hot.”

He smirks before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’re a good girl Layna.” And with that, he gets off the bed and grabs his clothes.

He doesn’t put them on though. Layna can barely move, but she knows she should get up to go to the bathroom and rinse herself off. Only, when she props herself up on her elbows, she hears the distinct sound of water running. Is he taking a fucking shower? He’s in and out in five minutes. She listens closely and hears him go into her fridge, and then he leaves.

**

“So, he made good on blowing your back out, showered, and then rifled through your fridge before leaving your apartment?” Michelle asks.

“Yup.”

“What did he even take?” Serene asks.

“My last black cherry Bubbly!”

“He took a seltzer water from your fridge and dipped?!” Christine can’t help but laugh. “Why did he think he had the right to just do what he wanted in your apartment.”

“I don’t know…but as weird as it was, it kind of turned me on.” Layna giggles.

“So, have you seen him since last week?” Serene asks.

“At the gym during normal work hours, but we haven’t hooked up again. We’ve just been sort of…sexting.”

“Honey, this isn’t sexting, it’s hieroglyphics.” Christine says, and everyone laughs.

“I know, it’s totally not sexy to use eggplants and finger emojis, but at night it works for me. He doesn’t usually text me this early in the day. He must want to get together, right?”

“This is a cryptic ass message, so who knows.” Serene says.

The girls finish their brunch and part ways. Serene is going in the same direction as Layna, so they walk together.

“I can feel your judgement, it’s radiating off you.” Layna says to her friend.

“I’m all for having a fuck buddy, but some guy that works at your gym? He sounds like a loser.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a loser or not, he’s fucked me better than anyone I’ve ever slept with, and it’s only been two times. We’re on the same page about not wanting anything serious. This could work for a bit.”

“And what happens when you inevitably catch feelings? Are you going to have a guy that lives in hoodies and basketball shorts to one of your showings?”

“I’m not going to catch feelings for him. I barely know anything about him, and I intend to keep it that way. We don’t speak about anything other than working out or sex. It’s perfect.”

**

Hey, u up?

It’s 2:30 in the morning on Thursday, now technically Friday. The buzz of Layna’s phone wakes her up. She must have forgotten to put it on do not disturb before she went to bed. She doesn’t have to be at the gallery until 1PM tomorrow, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get her shit rocked at this hour.

Just barely…did you want to come over?

Yeah, I want to 👅🍑

Jesus fucking Christ.

I’ll unlock my door so you can just come in. How long will you be?

10 min

Okay, see you soon!

👍🏻

Layna gets up to use the bathroom and freshen up quickly. She spritzes some perfume into her hair and dabs some on her wrists. The last time Harry came over, he told her she should just wait for him naked, so that’s what she’s going to do. She gets the lighting just right, then lays on her tummy with her back arched and her head resting on her hands. She hears her down open and close and butterflies soar through her stomach.

“Layna?!”

“In the bedroom!”

He comes in wearing a black hoodie and black joggers. He smiles when he notices that she’s completely naked.

“You’re in the perfect position for what I want to do to you.” He tells her as he takes his hoodie off, revealing a white undershirt.

“And what exactly might that be?” She bats her eyelashes at him sweetly.

“Couldn’t you tell from my text? I’m gonna spend some time on your ass tonight.”

“Oh, right.”

“You good with that?”

“I’m good with whatever you want to do. You know that already.”

“I don’t want to do anything that you’re not into.” He sits on the edge of the bed and feather lightly strokes her back with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m into it. I would say if I wasn’t.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“Great, then stay just like that.”

“Wait. Could you kiss me first?”

He smiles and bends down to pecks her lips, lingering for a moment to let her deepen it. He kicks his sneakers off and gets himself behind her on the bed.

“How do you feel about spanking?” He asks as he kneads her asscheeks with his large hands. “I’d love to see my handprint on you.”

“Do it.” She tells him, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Do it hard.”

Harry lifts his hand and brings it down hard to her skin, causing her to jolt forward. He pulls her hips back so she’s up on her knees, and he spreads her apart. He spits down onto her other hole, and watches as it drips down over her slit. He starts by just rubbing his thumb around the rim, getting her used to him being there. He repositions so his body is more so next to hers with his top half leaning over her ass. He starts tonguing at her hole while he works his middle finger into her pussy.

There aren’t a lot of guys that Layna has let lick her like this. Only a few. And it never felt this good. Harry’s heart is in it. The way he grunts and moans and laughs lowly against her as she squeaks and bucks and grinds backward against him is so wonderful. It’s sending her into a state of pure bliss.

He slips a second finger inside of her, and starts thrusting them in a little faster and deeper. Layna’s mouth hangs open as she grips at the blankets and just enjoys the way everything feels. He pulls his fingers from her, licks up from her pussy to her other hole over and over before fucking her with his tongue.

“Oh, shit.” She groans. “Harry, I’m getting close.”

Harry’s large hands keep her cheeks spread so he continue doing as he pleases to her. The noises he’s making are encouraging her to come, so she does. Her eyes roll back and she smiles at the feeling. Harry turns her over with no warning, and crawls up her body, licking into her mouth. She toes his joggers off, getting them down just enough to get his cock out. Neither of them bothers with taking his shirt off, it doesn’t matter. He paints his cock along her wet slit before pushing inside of her.

Her heels rest at the base of his spine as he fucks into her with ease. His lips sponge along her neck and chest. He pulls out of her abruptly and sits up. Layna whines and juts her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Relax.” He takes his shirt off and rids himself of the rest of his clothes. “Come here, ride it.” He says as he sits back on his hands with his legs spread. Layna scrambles to get up, but she’s soon straddling him and sinking down on his cock. She feels like she can barely breathe. “There we go, just relax baby.” His hands smooth over her breasts, around her back, and down to her hips.

“You’re s-so big.” She presses her forehead to his.

“I know I am.” He coos. “Probably won’t ever be able to get it down your throat.”

“That’s not true.” She pouts as she starts to move up and down slowly.

“No? So if I stuffed my fingers down your throat you wouldn’t choke right away?”

“I guess…I guess you’ll have to do just that and we’ll see.”

Harry grins as Layna opens her mouth. He sticks two fingers into her mouth and down her throat until she’s choking and gagging and spitting up. He wipes the spit from her chin and brings his fingers down to her clit to rub while she moves herself up and down on his cock.

“You’re such a good girl, Layna.”

“Do you like it better when I’m messy?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “Sex is more fun when it’s messy, don’t you think?”

She nods and slots her mouth over his. She wraps her arms around him, letting her fingers tangle in his curls. She starts bouncing up and down on him while his fingers continue to pay attention to her clit. He rubs it hard and fast.

“God, that feels so good.” She slams down on him harder, making him moan out loudly.

“Fuck, Layna.”

“Please come, I wanna come with you, please, Harry, please, please, please.” She’s rambling and and totally lost in her lust. But he loves hearing her beg.

The bed creaks from the force of their bouncing, and it all suddenly stills as they come in unison. Layna goes slack against Harry, kissing on his neck and shoulder lazily as she basks in the warmth of his come filling her up.

Layna lifts herself off of him, and goes to use the bathroom. When she comes back to her bedroom, Harry is laying on his stomach, bare ass out for all to see, and he’s snoring. She was only gone for five minutes, how the hell is he already snoring? She’s too tired to care at this point. So, she grabs a bed shirt to throw on and gets back into bed. She wasn’t expecting him to stay since he didn’t the last time, but it’s not a big deal. She turns over to face away from him to use her phone. Just as her eyes start to droop from reading a Wikipedia article on the invention of the aglet, she feels a strong arm wrap around her stomach. Harry pulls her to his chest and shoves his leg between hers.

**

Later that morning, at a more reasonable hour, Layna’s alarm goes off. She blindly reaches for it on her bedside table, almost knocking it over, but she’s able to turn it off. She knuckles at her eyes and sits up. The space next to her is empty and cold. How long ago did he leave? She grabs her phone and her eyebrows raise when she reads a message from Harry at around 5AM.

Had 2 head out. I used ur shower, and helped myself 2 a cliff bar. Left u some $$ on ur dresser for a plan b. Lmk when u get ur 🩸

She looks to her right and sees three, twenty-dollar-bills on her bureau. She blinks a few times and then gets out of bed to start her day.

**

“He used your shower again?” Christine laughs over a late lunch with Layna later that day.

“Yeah! I don’t really care since water is included in my rent, but still! There’s a shower at the gym, use that if you can’t wait until you get home.”

“At least he told you what he took from your kitchen this time.”

“True.”

“Do you feel like a hooker since he left you cash?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Why would he even leave you money for a Plan B if you’re on the pill?”

“I never told him I was on the pill, and the last two times we’ve fucked he hasn’t worn a condom. The first time he pulled out, but last night he came inside me.”

“Not to pull a Serene, but could you not make him use a condom?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to feel him, and I just get the vibe that he’s the type of guy who would say if he was clean or not. And he’s obviously covering his tracks. So, I’m gonna pocket the money and I’ll tell him when I get my period like he asked. Funny enough, I started my placebo week two days ago, so I should be getting my period either today or tomorrow.”

“I kind of like a man that carries cash. It’s like an emergency fund, you know? Maybe he’s keeping it on him for an unexpected cover charge, or needs to leave a generous tip.”

“Right? Nothing wrong with being proactive.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun with him. I feel like you never just hook up anymore. Not since Mark, anyways.”

“I was feeling like I was too old to just be hooking up with random guys. And when I was with Mark I liked having the consistency. I’m not sleeping with anyone else, so I don’t see the harm of having a consistent fuck buddy.”

“I’m never one to rain on someone’s parade, but do you at least know if he’s sleeping with anyone else? It might be good to ask so you’ll know if you should really be using condoms or not.”

“No, that’s a good point. I don’t want to catch anything.”

“I’m always up front with the guys I sleep with that they’re not the only one.”

“You don’t always use condoms though.”

“No, but nine times out of ten I do.” Christine shrugs. “I also have no way of getting pregnant, so I don’t care as much.”

“But you could still catch something.”

“I’m not catching a baby, so I really don’t give a fuck.”

Layna bursts out laughing at that. She can always count on Christine for zero sexual judgement.

**

Hey, you wanted me to let you know when I got my period…so this is me letting you know I got my period

It was a text she hasn’t had to send to someone since college, but she wanted go give him the courtesy since he left her $60 in cash.

How many days u 🩸4?

What in the actually fuck?!

Who are you, my gynecologist?

LMAO

No

I just wanted to no when I can 👅🍑💦👉🏻👌🏼 u again

Certainly it must take more effort to type like that because of autocorrect, right??

I’ll let you know

U better

And if I don’t?

U wouldn’t b a very good girl if u don’t

Don’t u want 2 b good 4 me?

It’s usually four days, I’ll text you next week

Good girl

**

Layna’s never been the jealous type, and she’s not sure if she’s just horny and hormonal, but she doesn’t like the woman that Harry is assisting at the gym. She’s been all over him since the second she got there, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. Layna only uses the treadmill when she has her period. She doesn’t like doing anything too strenuous with weights or machines because you just never know if your tampon is going to leak or if your pad is going to move and then all of a sudden your leggings are blood stained.

She was trying to be discrete with her glances, but the look of disgust on her face wasn’t discrete. And after a while it was clear Harry had other things to do, but the woman wouldn’t leave him alone! Layna has noticed that in the evening hours, Harry mostly wipes down machines and collects towels. He does more of the one on one training in the early morning and afternoon. So why wasn’t this woman taking the hint?

When she’s had enough, Layna hops off the treadmill and goes to refill her water bottle. This is also the area where people can put towels in hampers. Harry comes up next to her to tie up one of the hampers to bring to the laundry room.

“You’re not subtle, you know.” He says without looking at her. “You have major resting bitch face.” Now he looks her, the side eye makes Layna laugh.

“I don’t usually.” She takes a sip of water, then twists the cap back on the top.

“So what’s different about today?”

“Would it be anti-feminist to blame it on PMS?” Normally a rhetorical question like that would make someone laugh, but it seems to go right over Harry’s head. “Anyways, it was just sort of distracting to see that girl follow you around like a lost puppy. I was trying to focus on my walk.”

“You should make a better playlist.” He turns to face her and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sleeping with her, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“It’s really none of my business.” She assures him. “You’re a good looking guy, I’m sure you have a lot of girls on rotation.”

“I’ve had a lot less since I started up with you.” He blushes ever so slightly, but his tone is turning her on so she doesn’t notice the rouge on his cheeks. “I don’t usually sleep with girls from the gym.”

“Ah, separation of church and state.”

“Sure?” He runs a hand through his hair. Jesus Christ, he’s dumb. But it’s so hot.

“I think we should probably use condoms if you’re seeing multiple people, just to be safe.”

“Are you not?”

“Am I not, what?”

“Sleeping with other people.”

“Oh! Um, not really. Like, I honestly haven’t had time. Long story, I won’t bore you.”

He narrows his eyes at her for a moment. “What brand of condoms do you like?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m allergic to latex so I have my own on hand.”

“I don’t like lambskin.”

“It’s not lambskin, they’re still rubbers, but the latex ingredient that I’m allergic to isn’t in it.”

“Are they big enough?”

“The smallest condom can stretch to fit around someone’s foot, you jackass.”

“That’s not very nice.” He smirks, and takes a step closer to her. “Am I gonna have to bend you over the next time I see you?”

“Maybe.” She blushes.

“You’re still on your period?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” He sucks his teeth as he looks her up and down, very obviously objectifying her. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget to put you in your place so you don’t talk to me like that again.” He smirks, grabs the hamper full of towels, and disappears into the back of the gym.

“Cold shower.” She says to herself. “I need to take a very cold shower.”

**

Layna, Serene, Michelle, and Christine are all out for drinks on Friday night. It’s 9PM, and they’re all laughing and giggling and discussing what their plans for the rest of the night are.

“I have a party to go to for a client.” Christine says. “They loved my service so much that they want to introduce me to their friends so I can do some schmoozing.”

“I have a date with HBO and my couch.” Serene says.

“Ooh, a threesome. Good for you.” Christine jokes, making everyone laugh.

“I have a FaceTime date with Andrew.” Michelle smiles. “I thought him being in London would suck, but it’s actually been really romantic making time for each other like this.”

“That’s sweet.” Layna smiles.

“What about you?” Serene asks. “We could make my date a foursome.” She smirks.

“Actually, um…Harry is coming over around eleven.” Layna tells them.

“You’re still fucking that guy? He doesn’t even know what feminism is!” Serene says, annoyed.

“I made a joke and he didn’t think it was funny, it doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. He’s just not as educated as the rest of us, and there’s nothing with that.”

“Besides, he’s knowledgeable about what matters most.” Christine grins. “He’s made Layna squirt.”

“Shhh!” Layna hushes her friend. “I’m an open book, but I don’t want to talk about the fluids that have left my body.”

“I still can’t believe he made that happen the first time you hooked up.” Michelle says. “Vaginally.”

“I get dizzy every time I think about it.” Layna says. “He’s wild. And his dick is huge. I’ve never fucked a guy with such a big dick before.”

“I recall you mentioning Mark’s was decent.” Serene says.

“Mark had girth and that matters a lot more to me, but Harry has girth and length. And he’s been able to get my g-spot every time. Mark always had to rub my clit to get me to come.”

“Good for you.” Michelle smiles. “You deserve to have crazy hot sex with a himbo.”

All the girls laugh. They have another drink each before parting ways.

Layna takes a shower when she gets back, wanting to be as fresh as possible for her handsome himbo. She moisturizes, blows out her hair, and puts on a set of lace panties and bra. She feels giddy knowing she’s at the top of Harry’s rotation. She wonders what exactly he meant when he told her he was sleeping with less women since he met her. It’s none of her business, but she can’t help but be curious.

She grabs some condoms from the drawer in her bedside table and sets them down. Her phone buzzes at 11:05.

Here

She makes her way to her front door and opens it to let him in.

“Hey.” He gives the ‘sup’ nod but stops short when he looks at her. “Holy shit.”

“I hope you like red lace.” She smiles sheepishly. “I haven’t worn this for a while, but I th-oh!”

Harry pushed her up against the nearest wall after kicking the door closed. His tongue is down her throat, and his hands are sliding around to her ass to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and sucks on his tongue while he carries her to the bedroom. Tonight, Harry’s wearing a grey hoodie that has the word ‘DAMN’ on the chest, paired with navy basketball shorts. He gets them both on the bed, with his body still on top of hers. He bites on her bottom lip and sucks on it harshly, making her moan and arch into him. He grinds against her so she can feel how hard he already is. He pulls her hands from his hair and pins her wrists down on either side of her head and looks at her. Her chest is heaving.

“You wore this for me?”

“Well…yeah.” She blinks. “I wanted to look nice.”

“For me.” He confirms.

“Who else would I put this on for?” She asks innocently. “I told you last week I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.”

He continues to look at her, staring into her soul. “Keep your arms where they are.” He tells her and starts kissing down her neck. His hands grope at her breasts over the lace material. His warm mouth licks and sucks on her nipples, dampening the lace. He drags his tongue down her stomach until he’s kissing over the wet patch covering her center. He strokes her softly with his thumb, teasing her. He brings his mouth back down to her, kissing and licking, teasing her even more. She squirms underneath him, but she knows she needs to stay put like he told her. She knows she’s still in for it since she called him a jackass. Her toes start to curl and she bites her lip and does her best not to whimper and whine.

“You were rude to me last week, when all I did was ask an innocent question.” He says as his thumbs start to massage the inside of her thighs. “I wasn’t trying to be a jackass.”

“It was the way you asked it, I’m sorry.” She sits up on her elbows so she doesn’t have to strain as much to look at him.

“You’re always telling me how big I am, I figured you’ve only fucked guys with chodes or something. I want you to be comfortable, so I just wanted to make sure you had the right condoms.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Are you still going to…to bend me over and put me in my place?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m afraid to say yes because then you’ll do the complete opposite to keep teasing me.”

“Alright, listen.” He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on top of her knees. “That kind of stuff is supposed to feel good. I’m not going to bend you over my knee and make you count to ten. I am going to spank you, but only because I want to watch your ass ripple while you’re wearing these panties.”

“You can do whatever you want. I want you to do whatever you want.”

“Mhm, I know. You want me to use you like my own personal plaything.” He pulls his hoodie off and tosses it to the floor. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come here and lay across my lap.”

Layna crawls over to him and does as he says. He’s sitting far back enough on the bed so that she’s not dangling off of it. She’s actually pretty comfortable. She feels his finger hook into the back of her panties to pull them to the side. His fingers gently rub through her folds. Then he drags his fingers up the back of her ass cheek before groping it. He lifts his hand and brings down on her hard, making her jolt forward.

“Was that too hard?” He asks as he rubs over the pink welt forming.

“No, that was perfect.” She says after she catches her breath. “You can even do it harder.”

“You’re a dream, you know that?” He smiles at her, then pushes her head back down. His hand goes up, and he swats her ass hard.

He switches from spanking her to rubbing her from behind with his fingers until she’s dripping and sticky between her legs. He lifts her up just enough to get out from under her, then gets behind her. Her kisses on her ass, where his various handprints are, in an attempt to soothe her flaming skin. He grips the waist of her panties and drags them down her legs.

“Should’ve taken these off before and stuffed them down your throat while I was spanking you.” He sighs, disappointed with himself. “Next time.” He tosses the garment to the floor and spreads her cheeks. He licks up from her slit to her ass, then crawls up her body, licking up her back and kissing on her shoulders. She likes having his weight on her. “What do you feel like doing tonight since I’m here at a better hour?”

“Hmm…” She taps her chin and he gives her the room to roll onto her back. She smooths her hands over his shoulders before pecking his lips. “You’re a real ass man.”

“Guilty as charged.” He smirks. “You’ve got great tits too, though. Think I really like your whole body.”

“I like yours too.” She giggles.

“Seriously, Layna, how do you want it tonight?”

“I feel like you’re asking because you have something you wanna do.”

“Guilty again.” He sighs. “I want to fuck you, like normal…and then I was wondering if we could go a second round, but that time…could I fuck you in the ass? How do you feel about anal?”

“I like it!” She blurts out. “I really like it. It feels good. I have a, um, a, uh vibrator that you can put inside me and then you’ll feel the vibrations too while you’re fucking me and it’ll feel really good for both of us.”

“So, you’ve been fucked in the ass before?”

“Mhm. Well, not with an actual dick. It was with a butt plug, but it was pretty big and I used it a lot.”

“I’ll loosen you up with my fingers while I fuck you from behind.”

“You’re gonna have to take your shorts off to fuck me.” She grins.

“Not yet I don’t. I just got your panties off, I’m gonna go down on you. You made a fucking mess while you were getting spanked.”

“I thought I was gonna squirt. My pelvis was right on your thigh, it felt so good.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure that happens. I didn’t mean to deny you of anything.”

He kisses back down her body and gets right to work. He sucks on her lips, spits on her, then starts fucking her with his tongue while his fingers take care of her clit. She tugs on his hair and her thighs shake when he starts sucking on her clit. He moves his tongue around it in circles and keeps it wet. He presses his hand down on her lower belly and fucks into her with his fingers.

“Oh, shit.” She gasps. “Fuck, fuck! You’re so good at this.” She throws her head back and lets the waves crash over her. She makes a mess between her legs for him, and he gladly cleans it up. They both sit up and rid themselves of the rest of their clothes. Harry sees the condoms on the side table, so he grabs one to roll on. “Hey, wait.” She puts her hand on his wrist.

“What?” He looks at her with a frown. “Do you not feel like it now? It’s okay if you don’t, I’m obviously not going to force you, um, I can le-“

“Harry, calm down.” She chuckles. “I very much still want to fuck. I just…you’ve never let me…I’ve only ever given you a hand job.”

“Oh.” He rips the foil packet open and rolls the rubber onto his throbbing cock.

“You’ve had me choke on your fingers, and you know how good I am with my mouth. Do you not want my mouth on you there?”

“It’s not that.” He knees onto the bed and maneuvers her to lay on her back. “I guess I’d just rather put it in you here.” He pushes inside of her and she swallows him whole. “Nothing feels better than this.” His hand slides up her chest until it’s gripping her throat.

“I – fuck – I just want you to know I’ll do it. I think I’m one of the few women out there that actually likes having someone’s dick in their mouth.” She rubs his forearm up and down while he gently squeezes on the sides of her throat. “I want to reciprocate.” She manages to say.

“I’ll think about it.” He grunts as he thrusts in and out of her.

With him sitting up and choking her, and her laying on her back with her knees bent, it’s not long before Layna’s bed starts to shake, and her headboard starts banging against the wall.

“Can I rub my clit?” She asks faintly.

“Fuck, yeah, you can.” His free hand reaches to grip the top of the headboard. “You’re such a good girl, Jesus Christ. I want you to come. Come whenever you want, you don’t have to hold it.”

“Fuck, Harry, thank you.”

She reaches her hand to rub at her clit, and she melts further into the mattress. Harry gets distracted from watching her touch herself, and ignores the popping sound he hears between them. He starts panting, and so does she. Her back arches off the bed as she comes, and he follows behind, filling her up.

He lets go of her throat and comes down to kiss her. Layna moans into his mouth as she calms down. They both start smiling and giggling.

“Nothing’s even funny.” She continues giggling. “That just felt really fucking good.”

“Yeah, it did.” He smooths some hair away from her forehead.

“Will you fuck my ass now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He pecks her lips and pulls out of her.

“Do want, like, a banana or anything to help you bounce back?”

“You have bananas?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah! They’re in the kitchen in the fruit bowl.”

“Sick.” He gets off the bed, and tosses the condom in her trash. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Maybe…could you get me a glass of water? Throat’s a little sore.”

“Shit, I didn’t do it too hard did I?”

“No! Oh my gosh, no. It was perfect. I can’t wait to see the bruises on my neck in the morning.” She blushes.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

He pecks her forehead before leaving the room. He comes back shortly with half a banana in his mouth, the other half in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Layna takes the glass and slowly sips on the water. Harry tosses the banana peel in the trash before getting back on the bed.

She looks down and sees that he’s still plenty hard. He notices her looking and then raises an eyebrow at her.

“What, do you not like the way I have it shaved?”

“Huh?” She snaps out of her trance. “No, I just…how did you get hard again so fast?”

“It never went down.” He shrugs. “I have pretty good stamina. I’ll be sensitive, but that’ll be better for you so I won’t have to be in your ass for that long. I know it feels good, but a long round of anal sex can feel not so good the next day.”

“That’s so true.”

“How much prep do you think you need? Will you open right up for me?”

“I’d really like to.” She chews on her bottom lip, and leans over him to grab her bottle of lube out of her drawer. “This should help, though.”

“Ah.” He observes the bottle. “This is good stuff.”

“Yeah, I prefer the water based lube, it’s less messy and feels more natural.”

“Get on your stomach, I’ll start getting you ready. Put your ass up in the air.”

Layna listens to him and gets into position. He squeezes the bottle and lets the lube drip and slide down her hole. He gets his middle finger wet, and rubs it around her rim. Layna sighs contently into her pillow. Harry works his finger into her slowly.

“Harry, my vibrator is in that same drawer. Could you grab it and put it inside my pussy?” She looks back at him over her shoulder. “It’ll help me relax a little more for you.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He pulls his finger from her and leans over the edge of the bed to rummage through her drawer. He find the vibrator. It’s in the shape of a penis, and is simple. Harry gets some lube on it before turning it on and slipping it inside of her. She sighs and relaxes a little more. Harry rips open another condom and rolls it onto his cock.

“I’m gonna start.” He tells her, rubbing her hips and asscheeks.

“Could I…could we switch positions?”

“You wanna ride my dick while it’s in your ass?”

“Yeah, sit on the edge of the bed.” Harry does as she says, intrigued by it. Layna gets off the bed, holding the dildo inside her, and backs up until she’s sitting on Harry’s lap with her back to his chest. “This is more comfortable, and with my legs on the outside of yours, I’m spread a little more.”

“I didn’t think most women knew how to take it up the ass without doing doggy.” He grips himself and paints his cock along her hole. Layna reaches behind and helps him slowly feed it into her.

“I guess I’m not most women.” She grunts. “Ew, I didn’t mean that in like a ‘I’m not like other girls’ way.”

“I knew how you meant it.” He holds his breath until his cock is all the way inside of her. He keeps his hands on her hips, but they both just sit for a moment, the sound of the vibrator inside Layna filling the room.

“I feel so full.” She sighs and hooks an arm behind Harry’s head. “You can move.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Give it to me.”

Harry starts to move Layna for her, controlling the pace. She’s not complaining. They get a good rhythm going after Harry squirts some extra lube on her ass. He moves her legs so it’s like she’s straddling him. It gives her some leverage to start moving herself while Harry thrusts up inside of her and rubs her clit.

He watches as sweat falls down her spine. He leans forward and kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. It’s a slow grind, a good groove. Layna hasn’t felt this good in a long time. She’s never told any of her friends, not even Christine, that she likes anal sex this much. It’s so taboo and naughty and she can take it so well. She’s not sure what it is exactly, but she just likes feeling full. Not to mention, she loves the way a man reacts to it. Harry is breathing heavily and moaning and pressing his sweaty chest to her back. His hands are groping her breasts, she’s got a decent grip on his hair, and it’s all so deliciously overwhelming.

“Layna, I’m getting close.” He warns her.

“I’m almost there.” She pants.

His fingers go back to her clit and he starts rubbing at rapid fire. Layna starts moaning loudly and spilling out expletives. Harry places one of his hands behind him for leverage. His own back is arching, he can feel his orgasm at the base of his spine. He can’t hold it.

“Fuck!” He cries out, then bites down hard on Layna’s left shoulder.

That pushes Layna over the edge, and she makes a mess all over Harry’s thighs. He holds her to him as they both try to even their breathing. Layna lifts herself up a little, and Harry makes a panicked noise. She hasn’t heard that noise come from him before.

“I’m just taking the vibrator out, don’t worry.” She slips the toy out of her and tosses it on the bed, then leans back into Harry. She turns slightly to look at him. “Are you alright?” She asks gently.

“Yeah, that was just really amazing.” His arms are tight around her tummy. “I need a minute, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m comfortable.” She pecks his lips, and that turns into a very searing, deep kiss from Harry.

They stay like that for around ten minutes, and then Harry lifts Layna off of him. She tells him she’s gonna go use the bathroom. He notices that the this condom popped as well. They must be expired. He grabs one of the wrappers and shoves it into one of his sneakers so he’ll know what brand to pick up the next time he’s at the drug store.

When Layna’s done, Harry goes to use her bathroom. As he comes back to her, he smirks. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt, but that’s it. So he can see everything while she’s changing her sheets. She jumps when she sees him standing in the doorway.

“The sheets were soaked.” She explains.

“I know.” He grabs his boxers and pulls them back on. “Do you always have that much to give when you squirt?”

“Sometimes it’s only a little, and then other times it’s a lot.” She shrugs as she finishes making up the bed. Harry crawls into the side he slept on the last time, and Layna slips in beside him. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.” He reaches over her to turn her lamp off, then pulls her in close so he can spoon her.

She’s not complaining.

**

[gayf1hoe]

Part 6

I wake up to the sound of people banging on my door, I quickly rise thinking it's an emergency but I open the door to Yuki and Pierre inviting me down to breakfast. I shoot them a heavily judgemental look for waking me up at whatever time it is. I slam the door in their faces and head back to my bead to check my phone and see that it's only 7:30 on Wednesday morning.

I spend about 20 minutes in bed just scrolling through emails and social and see that my training starts at 9:30 so I decided to drag myself away from the comfort of my bed and go and have a shower, and get dressed, I try to find my sportswear as I will be in the gym for most of the day, after making myself look semi presentable I head down to the breakfast area where Oscar waves at me to join them at the table I quickly grab some orange juice and a fruit bowl before sitting down.

Everyone is chatting away and then Oscar sparks a conversation between us and says “So did you get back alright last night?” he said with a sly smirk on  his face “Yep fine” I responded whilst showing fruit into my mouth, “Who walked you back?” he pressed on “Charles did” I said quite assertively, this soon caught the attention of Yuki, Pierre, Daniel and Max who all chime in giving each other looks like they know something I don't. I quickly dismiss the conversation and ask George what the team plan is for training. He informs me that we are in the Gym doing Physical and Reaction Training, these types of days are what make me regret being an F1 driver.

We spent the next half an hour at the breakfast table chatting away about random topics that popped up, I however remained in silence trying to gather what the looks were about earlier. Zhou comes over and starts talking to me which quickly pulls me away from my thoughts, he is also one of the people I have known for the longest. We met when I was in F3 and he was in another racing series, we had quickly become friends as we have a lot in common.

He asks if he can't talk to me in ‘private’ this of course makes me quite concerned and my initial thought is that something is wrong, however when we get to a free table he asks me point blank “Are you in love with Charles?”I sit there in shock not at the question but at how straight to the point he is, I reply with “Yes… I think I am, what makes you ask?”.

“Well M/N you never have been good at hiding your feelings and it's always the same story with you look at when you dated Mick or even Nyck, you started off hating them and ended up loving them” he says with a confident smile knowing he is completely right. I sigh in anger with myself for being so predictable and we talk for a while about how I truly feel about Charles and he helps me realise that we should try and be friends first before developing into something more.

George calls me over to signal that we have to head to the gym and start training when we arrive it's is completely empty except both of our personal trainers who are waiting for us George's takes him over to the treadmill for endurance training where as my trainer makes me do reaction tests for a whole 2 hours and by then I have had enough we take a quick break during our break me and George talk despite being remakes we haven't had much time to talk.

“So how does it feel to be in F1 and have won your first ever Grand Prix?” He asks, “Well Mr journalist it feels pretty cool and I have enjoyed every moment so far and can't wait for the next race” I respond and like every other conversation that I have the question of “so what's going on between you and Charles?” pops up and simply replies “We got off on the wrong foot but we are making efforts to be friends”, “Just friends?” He inquires I let out an exasperated giggle as say “for now”, after about 35 minutes of boycotting physical torture our trainers have had enough of us and make us get back to working out.

We reverse roles and George is now stuck doing reaction training and I'm on the treadmill doing endurance training and half the time I'm zoned out ahead of me apart from the odd time when my trainer asks me a question. Me and my trainer have been working together for years, he became my trainer when I was in F3 and then he moved up with me and worked with me simultaneously when I was in F2 and the AlphaTauri driver development program. He knows me extremely well given that he's known me since I was a teenager he's always been someone I could trust and also get away with a lot with

After about 45 minutes he can tell this really isn't my thing so he says it's OK to change up and do something else we do some weighted neck exercises to prepare for G Forces by the end of this the gym is now beginning to fill up with other drivers and other team trainers so we decode to call it a day.

I have sweat dripping down my face, and my once white shirt has become semi-clear with it attaching itself to my skin. Just as I was walking out I see him… Charles I try to pluck up the courage to ask him if he would like to spend the day with me tomorrow but he's currently talking to Max. I wait for about 10 minutes before they wrap up their conversation when I approach him. I quickly regret this when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I'm a sweaty mess but it's too late now he's acknowledged me. “Hey” I say, he swiftly replies “hey is everything OK”, “yeah everything's fine I was wondering if…… you wanted to come with me to this museum tomorrow…. It's fine if you can't I -” I am quickly cut off by him responding with “of course I would love to” I'm genuinely surprised he agreed “OK cool meet in the lobby tomorrow morning at 10” my response slight ecstatic “OK cool, oh by the way M/N loving the ‘shirt’” he said as he walked away just as well as it made me blush like mad.

I head back to my room extremely happy and I bump into Daniel who says “Who put a spring in your step?” “ oh nothing I had an energy drink so I have lots of energy” I say absolutely lying through my teeth.

Charles Pov:

After M/N walked away I could feel myself blushing for some reason. It's probably because his shirt was soaking with sweat and you could clearly see his entire torso. Daniel enters and slaps me in the back and says “What did you do to make M/N so happy?” he questions quite inquisitively I'm confused as to what he means a say “what do you mean what have I done?”, “ that man walked out of here with a smile looking like he was high on life when all day when I've walked last he's looked very miserable” his response shows how invested he really is, I smile at the fact I could be the reason he is so happy considering I was the one who pissed him off so much before I humour Daniel and decide to tell him “we are going to the museum together tomorrow” I say, “LIKE A DATE?” he says a little too loud for my liking yet no one heard "No, I don't think so, I don't know…. Does he think it's a date?” Daniel laughs at my confusion and asks “Do you think it's a date?” I reply with “I don't know” he then asks “would you like it to be a date?” This question requires more thinking than the last one and I finally fathom a response.

“Yes I would like to think it's a date”

Daniel smiles like the labrador he is satisfied with my answer, “what do you think he thinks it is?”, “I'm not sure” I reply “Well would you like me to play matchmaker and see”, “absolutely not” I rapidly reply with every worst case scenario running through my mind as to what could go wrong with Daniel handling my love life.

As I continue training over the afternoon I have one question “does he think it's a date?... Does he want it to be a date?.... Would he even go on a date with me?”

[lopsided-whiskey-grin]

hi i just read your ghost/soap flashbang fic and I LOVED IT thanks for sharing!! you said we could suggest things and i'd love to see it written by you: a fic set at the first time soap saw ghost shirtless, and lost his SHIT about ghost's pecs. he goes bonkers about them honkers, yk?

Anon, I wanna personally thank you for this prompt bc my mind went wild with the possibilities lmao plus picturing Soap going absolutely feral for Ghost's knockers blessed my entire life. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! ( ˘³˘)♡

***************************

"On your feet, MacTavish. We're going to the gym."

Soap paused the game he'd been playing and pulled up one side of his headphones. He looked over at Ghost standing beside the couch. "You what?"

Ghost was zipping up a black hoodie over a black Under Armour shirt stretched across his broad chest. He was wearing dark gray sweats and a worn-in pair of trainers, all-in-all looking quite delicious. Soap swallowed hard. 

"I said I'm getting you out of this fucking house, Johnny. You've been holed up in 'ere for weeks." He put on his skull jaw face mask that covered his nose and chin.

Soap sat back against the couch. He turned his attention to the TV. "Nah, I'm good." 

After Chicago, he and Ghost had gotten a flat in London and were laying low, waiting until Laswell instructed them on their next move against Makarov. Dealing with Las Almas and Hassan had left him exhausted, mentally and physically and he told himself he only needed a break for just a few days to recuperate. But then a few days had turned into longer than that, with Soap barely ever leaving the apartment for the last two and a half weeks. He couldn't seem to get out of the rut he found himself in. 

Ghost shook his head. "I wasn't asking," he said. 

He grabbed Soap up off the couch none too gently and all but shoved him toward his bedroom, completely ignoring the string of Scottish curses Soap lobbed at him along the way. 

"You have five minutes to get dressed, Sergeant or I'm throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you there in whatever you've got on right now." 

Soap turned at the threshold of his door, hand on the doorknob. "Is that a promise L.t?" he asked with a cheeky grin tugging up the side of his mouth. 

Ghost growled and started toward him, one hand balled in a fist. Soap laughed and shut the door. 

He made it back out of the room by Ghost's five minute deadline, dressed in his workout clothes, but still not happy about being forced out of the house. He voiced as much to Ghost their entire ten minute walk to the gym. Ghost only sighed.

For as much griping as he did though, once he was actually at the gym he actually kind of enjoyed himself. He logged three miles on the treadmill, did a few 100 kilo deadlift reps, and spent some time with the battle rope. It felt good to be working his body, to be working up a sweat.

He caught Ghost's eye a couple times as they moved around each other to the different machines and each time felt his heart rate speed up. He knew it had nothing to do with the exercises. Spending the last two weeks in that small flat with Ghost in such close quarters was almost agonizing, seeing but not touching — not knowing if Ghost wished he could touch him too. 

After about an hour and a half, drenched in perspiration and a little sore but in a good way, he started making his way to the locker room, looking forward to a hot shower to soothe his muscles. He was halfway across the room when Ghost called his name.

"Johnny, come spot me. I'm almost done." 

Soap wandered over to where Ghost was laying back on the weight bench, his hands already on the bar over his head. Soap dutifully braced his legs apart and held his hands at the ready even though Ghost lifted the weights easily. He let his eyes roam over Ghost's body as he went through his reps, hungrily drinking in the sight of Ghost's massively broad chest flexing with each pump. He felt his cock jump in his gym shorts and quickly looked down to Ghost's face to see if he had noticed. 

Ghost was staring straight up at him. Of course he fucking was. 

Two bright spots of red bloomed on his cheeks and he swiftly looked away. "That's four," he said. His voice was a little hoarse and he coughed to cover it up. 

Ghost racked the weights with Soap's help and he sat up, shaking his hands out. "Thanks, mate." 

"Anytime," Soap replied with a half-hearted smile. Without waiting for Ghost to say anything else, he made a bee-line toward the locker room, grabbing a bottle of water from the vending machine in the hall on his way. 

Soap cracked open the bottle and drank down half of it before he even sat on the bench next to his locker. Shit. Even after everything they'd been through in Mexico and Chicago, Soap still had a hard time showing Ghost how he felt about him — an impossible time, in fact. Fucking Christ, why was it so difficult to just say "Hey Ghost, I think you're hot as hell and I'd love to fuck your brains out one of these lovely afternoons if you're not too busy."?

Soap snorted out a soft laugh and took another pull of water. Yeah, that'd go over swimmingly. 

The locker room door opening shook him from his thoughts and he looked over in time to see Ghost stalking into the room. His presence was so commanding that Soap couldn't help but stare. 

Ghost went to his locker that was directly across from where Soap sat, turning his back to him to dig inside it. "Thanks for coming with me today, Johnny." 

Soap shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but failing miserably. "I didn't really have a choice, did I?" 

Ghost chuckled. "I think it was good for you," he replied gruffly, still not facing Soap. He unzipped his hoodie and tossed it in his duffle bag. Then pulled his t-shirt off. 

Soap's gaze roamed over the large swatch of the bare skin of Ghost's back; it was the first time he'd seen him without a shirt on. Scars marred the flesh, some old and faded, others obtained more recently, but all of them utterly fascinating. And there was a small tattoo on his left shoulder, he noticed. Soap couldn't quite make it out. He squinted, trying to bring it into better focus. 

But before he could try to read it, Ghost turned around to face him. Soap was in the middle of taking a sip of water when his brain short-circuited completely. He sputtered and choked while Ghost looked on with his shirt held loosely in his hands. 

Soap's eyes were wide as fucking saucers as he took in the sight before him. It wasn't just Ghost's broad-as-a-barrel chest that floored him. It was his. Fucking. Pecs. They were massive. How he hid them under his shirt everyday without ripping it from seam to seam was a mystery to Soap.

 They looked so fucking lusciously squeezable. But firm at the same time, somehow? Ghost's nipples were dusky pink and hardened into little pebbles from the cool air of the room. And it all made Soap's jaw drop — quite unattractively in all honesty. 

Closing his gaping mouth with a click, Soap slowly set his water bottle at his side with a shaky hand. He rose on unsteady legs and walked around the bench between them, entranced.

"Ghost, I — I uh, what the…" The words fell off without Soap even registering that he'd quit talking. 

He stopped before Ghost, unable to look him in the eyes. A kink Soap didn't even know he even fucking had was drawing all of his available attention straight to Ghost's chest. He needed to touch, needed to feel, needed to bury his face right fucking there. 

He reached a trembling hand up, then hesitated with his fingertips hovering just above Ghost's skin. Ghost's dark gaze followed his movements closely, his eyes wide. It sounded like Ghost himself was out of breath but Soap wasn't sure — his brain was going fucking haywire and he couldn't concentrate. 

 Looking up at Ghost, he rasped, "Can I?"

Ghost seemed surprised by the question, but nodded. Soap released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He brought both hands up, laying his palms flat on Ghost's massive pecs.

"Sweet screaming Jesus," he whispered reverently, kneading the muscles. 

Ghost groaned and Soap's cock throbbed in response. He bent forward and took one of those perfect nipples into his mouth. The taste of sweat and the promise of a long night of fucking bloomed across his tongue. Ghost jerked at the contact. 

"Fuck, Johnny. If I had known you'd be so turned on by my tits, I'd have taken my shirt off in front of you weeks ago." 

Soap drew Ghost's nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. Ghost hissed and grabbed onto Soap's hips. "If I had known you were hiding these fucking knockers under your clothes this whole time, I'd have ripped your shirt off myself," he murmured around Ghost's nipple still in his mouth, "Bloody hell, Ghost."

A chuckle rumbled through Ghost's chest. 

"You realize I'm not going let you wear a stitch of clothing around the flat now, right?" He punctuated the words with rough squeezes of his hands. 

"That so?" Ghost rasped behind his mask, sounding amused. 

Before Soap could reply or say anything further, though, the locker room door opened. Soap backed off immediately, but Ghost held him in place with his hands still on Soap's hips. 

The man who had interrupted them backed out the door slowly under Ghost's intense glare. When they were alone again, Soap massaged Ghost's chest once more. He canted his head up to meet Ghost's gaze. 

"Shall we continue this conversation back at home, Johnny?" Ghost asked. He tugged Soap's hips forward until they were flush against each other. 

Soap was pretty sure Ghost already knew the answer to that. "Oh, hell yes." 

[joellesolo]

So, I started taking carbamazepine (tetregol) on Sunday, which was actually planned out over a month ago by my psych and I at our last appointment in September because I did NOT want to have a repeat of caplyta and spent October as a zombie and miss out on Halloween events and the Something Corporate concert and Emo Night Tour and everything, you know? So that was the plan, to start it a night after ENT; cool right?

But then of course ENT gets cancelled literally two hours before it started, it triggers a manic episode (okay, to be fair, I was manic before it got cancelled, I guess...), I start the carbamazepine, and of course, have a terrible reaction.

And what a fucking WEEK to have a terrible reaction to it.

I tried to give it a couple days, but, I couldn't even walk up the stairs unassisted, so on Tuesday night Michael was just like, you gotta call your psych, and I was just like, so defeated... like, are my options to either be depressed or a zombie?! Because this is exactly what happened with the caplyta last fall. Except I gave that med three and a half weeks of being a zombie before I gave up on it and went back on vraylar. So I've spent over a fucking YEAR being depressed and ragey. And that's not fair to my girls...

So, I stop the carbamazepine, and, this morning, wake up feeling not great, but I wasn't falling off the treadmill like the last few days at least?? I was able to drive Peanut to the dentist and to school, which, I HAD to, so that's good? And I got home, and took the fanapt, and then got in the shower and semi blow-dried my hair and then... could barely keep my eyes open and fell down the stairs.

And then googled fanapt and discovered it causes sedation and drowsiness and could barely make it to the sidewalk when Lil's bus got home.

EMBARRASSING.

So I guess we'll see how it goes. I'm supposed to take another one this evening 😭 And increase the dosage tomorrow, and the next day, and the next...

Maybe I'm just doomed to be depressed forever?? Idk. Things are not looking good.

I'm swaying right now, and it's supposed to be nap time and it's taken me fifty fucking minutes to type this out 😭 I guess that's my cue to fuck this.

[shannananan]

it's wild being in an active emotional spiral but also having the mean to step back and actually look at what is happening now that I understand my ADHD more.

I have overloaded my plate in a way that I never have in January, let alone during my other times of year when my mental health is better. My focus is all over the place, i'm not sleeping, i'm forgetting to eat, i'm two minutes away from tears at any given time. If anything goes wrong or is critical, I shut down completely. if anything goes right or succeeds, I have the motivation of a thousand suns. My body is screaming at me to slow down and my brain is running a marathon like a sprint.

It's bad, but I'm not losing my entire sense of self like I used to. I'm recognizing the mirroring I'm doing in different situations - a stressful meeting, a bad mood, an excited friend, etc. The holidays and return to work have been met with a wide range of personalities and it's been exhausting how I mirror each interaction. My masked stimming has made me shred my nails, pick at dry skin, and pull out my hair. Forcing myself to sit at my work desk and jsut 'be productive' in the office has led to no productivity and being agitated by the end of the day. I get home and all I do is scroll on my phone for the immediate dopamine hit rather than make dinner or spend time sending emails.

I've clocked all this and more in real time, and even though it's still happening in a spiral - I start to think about what I can do to make each thing better. Be more conscious of my mirroring and maybe be cautious about how social I want to be right now. I told my boss I needed a WFH day (which I luckily have the flexibility to be hybrid) and spent an entire day walking around my house changing tasks every 20 minutes. I was way more productive and the freedom to move and change what i was doing with more enjoyable breaks made my work time much better. I pulled out some old fidget toys and put them in better places for me to pick up. Finally I got my butt in gear and joined a gym - not because of any January fitness journey - but with a zero pressure approach of it being a space that is not associated to any work or screen and I can move my body - even just walking slowly on a treadmill for half an hour - and release chemicals that can help me recenter.

I'm not getting out of the deep end anytime soon, but at least i have the floatation devices now to help along the way.

[tseecka]

I drove a two-hour round trip to go buy a treadmill off of someone on Facebook Marketplace, and I spent the entire drive talking to myself about Aggie---or more specifically, tonight, his Sire. Now you get to benefit from my highway monologuing.

So, DeVry. Beauregard DeVry. (Formerly Dorian Du Vrai Beau-Regard, formerly Dorian Beauregard).

He was handsome, once; its written all over his features, though age has shown him little mercy. Though he hasn't aged a day since he was 56 years old, the centuries he has seen still managed to write themselves into the lines and creases of his face, smudge their fingerprints ever darker under his eyes. He is, now, a tired sort of handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped neatly around a tall, wide forehead, and a square jaw, not striking, nor pretty, but dignified and elegant nonetheless.

As far as vampires go, he's on the older side--a few centuries, at least. He was born sometime in early 17th century France, and was turned on the cusp of the Age of Enlightenment, but I don't actually care to get into it any more than that, because I'm not really very interested in French history and I don't want to get bogged down in details about DeVry when Aggie is RIGHT THERE. This is just to establish three and a half particular details: He's old, he's French, and he--and by extension, Aggie--are of a lower generation than might be expected. (I'm thinking he is 9th or 10th, making Aggie 10th or 11th, because I like the idea of my insatiable little hedonist being of a lower generation and giving other vampires conniptions.)

Like all Toreadors, DeVry has an eye for beauty; and like his childe, he finds that beauty in fine art. What DeVry seeks, though, rather than experience or sensation or emotion, is perfection. Precision. The epitome of beauty is a perfectly executed brushstroke, the flawless line of arm and leg in a ballerina's leap, technical expertise. Where Aggie wants to experience beauty--sink up to his elbows in it, crush it through his fingers and lap up the creative juices trickling down his wrists--DeVry would preserve it behind glass--immaculate, distant, untouchable, even those art forms that require air and movement in order to breathe. Over the years, this seeking of perfection has become a nearly pathological impulse, a flavour of madness, the standard for said perfection ever impossibly higher. Rather than finding beauty in the unique nature of a slight flaw, or in the evidence of humanity, it rings out discordant to him. He doesn't care for breaking new ground or trying something new, the evolution of style that comes with the passing centuries and changing human minds; rather, he knows what art should be, in his opinion, based on his experiences, and continually tries to seek out those he thinks are capable of being molded into that perfect model. DeVry doesn't want to experience art; he wants to observe it, for art's own sake.

Because, in his mind, the vagarities of human emotion are an impediment to achieving the platonic ideal of art, DeVry holds a belief that only a Kindred will be able to create it; though he accepts that a Kindred with no taste or aptitude for art in their human life will not become magically adept upon Embrace. Therefore, those he chooses to support and patronize--like Aggie--are humans who show an aptitude beyond that of their peers, one which could be molded and shaped and tended to the uppermost extent to which they are capable; and then, if they continue to show promise, Embraced so as to allow them to exceed the limitations of humanity, accessing the ability to create what he thinks of as art--something divine, to which humanity can only aspire.

To this end, Aggie is something of a failure. His artistry, while technical perfection in practice, is far too human in its expression; while he is capable of singing without his technique being overshadowed by emotion, he doesn't typically care to. Rather than unlocking hidden ability and potential, being Embraced only served to further feed the infusion of raw emotion that Aggie pours into his music, now inspired by the distance he is forced to take from Alastair and Phillip in his new unlife and the impact that his experiences with his heightened senses have on his emotions.

DeVry has only sought approval for Progeny a handful of times in his long life; he is incredibly discerning in bestowing the gift he offers, and so despite Aggie not living up to his expectations post-Embrace, he still harbours a great deal of care and affection for the younger Kindred. Aggie, for his part, is giddy with the new sensations on offer, and thankful to DeVry for the privilege of experiencing them and the faith that DeVry has always shown in Aggie's ability. (Another commentary on Aggie's relationship with music and with DeVry is forthcoming.) So the two share a fairly genial, familial relationship; the core of their disagreements and conflicts tends to boil down to their individual natures. Where Aggie is loud and unabashed, and free with his affections, DeVry is reserved; where Aggie is messy, even sloppy, DeVry is fastidious; where Aggie has a tendency to be emotional, DeVry is cold. If they do have a conflict, it is often smoothed over by Aggie giving DeVry a private concert in which he brings all of his technical skill and expertise to bear, as though to remind DeVry, "This is why you Made me; this is why it was worth it." (Aggie's technical skill does, indeed, improve once his ear becomes more capable of hearing the finest distinctions between notes, and he no longer needs to worry about breathing to sustain himself while singing.)

DeVry has been married a few times, once as a human and twice after his own Embrace. His first wife was a ballerina; his obsession with the pursuit of perfection in art has its roots in the way that no other ballerina was ever able to compare to her talent and beauty after he lost her, and has since--over time, with the erosion of rational thought, and the loss of connection to his more human emotions--perverted itself. He is currently unmarried, has no mortal descendants, and Aggie is his only childer.

[inespotwardowskacas]

Activity #2

During my first visit to the gym i started doing simple back and arm exercises and making sure the weights were nit very heavy. Along with the weight machines i also spent some time on the treadmill. The more time passes on it the more I increased the speed. I spent around and hour and a half in the gym. Although at the end i was quite tired and exhausted I enjoyed working out at the gym.

[keefwho]

March 11 - 2024 Monday

11:02pm

6.5/10

This morning I woke up with tummy troubles. I still went through with shaving my legs/face so that I can be super groomed for tomorrow's haircut. A decent amount of time was spent in the bathroom this morning, probably on account of the pizza and ramen I ate yesterday combined with some drinking. All I could eat for breakfast was a soup in the box.

I started work late and skipped warmups. I just worked on the current commission today. After work I did half my usual treadmill workout which was fine considering how little I'd eaten and how I still felt. I read the chapter on Acceptance in my ACT book again while walking. I took some time to bake myself in the shower and watch a little youtube. For lunch I made stew but I didn't brown it enough and added too many potatoes/water so it came out kinda bland and in large quantity but I ate it all anyways. I was SUPER full. The coke I had after hit hard because I really just needed water. I hung out in Bramble's server during work but wasn't really in a big social mood. I'm still glad I hung out there even if I wasn't really clicking with anyone at that moment. I left after doing today's request, working on a pic of Adora for an hour, and doing a little bit of Plaz's world. I updated him letting him know it is still happening just very slowly.

I took some time to just chill after work. I watching a very fascinating Cities Skylines 2 detailing video and then tried meditating on defusion for a little bit. I was doing the leaves on a stream exercise while laying my head in my arms and listening to water ambience. I was realizing the traditional version of the exercise where the leaves float downstream give me the impression that I'm meant to be getting rid of thoughts by putting them in the river. But defusion is never about deleting thoughts, its about seeing them as just thoughts. So I did a slightly different version where I imagined myself on a bridge above a still pond with every thought I had being represented by a leaf falling into the water but otherwise staying there. I gotta say I wasn't very successful in defusion "clicking" with me today but I knew it helped to try anyways.

I joined Daisy in Just Dance and SLAYED today. I did much better than usual and maybe it's because I was moreso having fun letting my motions be fluid rather than trying too hard to copy the moves and compensate for mistakes. Also changed my profile to a DOG but I might put it back to Hoss Delgado.

After her shower she read me a Monster High chapter in bed. I made another custom Connections puzzle for her to solve today thinking it was good but it was actually too hard for her. I think the terms I used were too generic to pinpoint any right off the bat which is usually a trait of a good puzzle. She did really well with today's actual connections and wordle though. Then I played a good amount of Kingdom Hearts 2 for her and did the whole Traverse Town tournament bit.

~~~

Today I was meant to be thinking about the topic of acceptance again. It's weird because the whole chapter covers specific kinds of trauma that I don't identify with but someone I know does. It makes me wish I could somehow use this knowledge and the understanding I do have to help out somehow. Not that I'm out here trying to magically fix something so complicated but I think I understand some of the topic and thats a good thing. Other than that, I think I did a decent job keeping myself on track today and accepting tonight for what it was. I understand that I can tend to reject good times simply because they make me think of the potential abandonment that will seemingly nullify it all. While that could happen, nothing would be "null" if it did. And it's much better and more helpful to be hopeful that everything will turn out okay in the end. I know it's not smart to be blinded by positivity but I do need to push myself from having a negative view of things to at least neutral. It'll help me appreciate the good things in my life while they're happening more often. It'll build me up.

3 things that made me happy today:

Watching otter stream with Bramble and friends during work.

Doing good in Just Dance.

Getting lost in Kingdom Hearts 2 for Daisy.