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#but it's all about breaking up. cheating. and all that nonsense.
mymelx · 7 months
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After an argument with older fiance Simon Ghost Riley
No usage of Y/N
"You should be with a much mature and older woman instead of me..." is what you murmur to your fiance after an argument, a stupid one because you felt he's been cheating on you each time he told you he's going on a mission.
He looks at you with dead eyes. Literally. Without any expression.
He rarely curses in front of you (and never at you), but this time, he can't help but let out a "what the fuck did you just say?" out of pure surprise.
You sniffle and squeeze your little hands into a fist, look away, and murmur "That would be better for you... I'm just..."
You burst into tears, trying to hold your voice low.
He sighs and walks to you.
You step back while crying. That's what you always do. You always care about him, always being kind and sweet, loving him, hiding anything that makes your little heart ache or break, and then... there's going to be a fight. But instead of arguing, you just step back and tell him to leave you.
He never does, though. Obviously. Never.
He hugs you and assures you that he's not going to leave his little girl after all the years of being together.
He sighs again and talks in a low voice
"Fucking hell, cut these nonsense out, woman... baby, look at me."
He gently cups you face with his big, warm hands, looking right in your pretty teary eyes
"Listen, 'm not gonna leave ya. Never. Even if you told me to. Can't have my heart torn like this, by you, sweetheart. Can't see how much I love you? Do you think I could easily leave? I don't even think about it, fuck."
You burst into tears yet another time, and he kisses your temple. He picks you up with you straddling him with your legs. He gently lays you on the bed, assuring you for the rest of the night.
6K notes · View notes
leclercsainzz · 10 months
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hello love x
i was wondering if you could potentially do one where the reader is an actress and is in the new hunger games movies and everyone ships her with tom but she’s also dating lando … could you make a love triangle situation with these two?? like maybe she hangs out with tom more than lando or something idk lol u can come up with anything (you can decide who the endgame is) sort of like a illicit affair or where maybe she is seeing tom and everyone is aware of it idk??? (at this point im just saying nonsense i think lol)
ILLICIT AFFAIRS
PAIRINGS: lando norris x gf!reader / tom blyth x fem!reader
TYPE: social media au
WARNING: // cheating implied
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, tomblyth and 689,736 others
yourusername: making this movie was hands-down one of the best experiences of my life thus far! i cannot wait to share more behind the scenes content with you all:)) and with only one week to spare .. see you out there on our press tour!
view 5,846 comments
landonorris: can’t wait!
landonorris: proud of you, my love!! ❤️
↳ yourusername: ilyyyyy 😘
↳ user: lando being a supportive bf >>>
↳ user: alexa, how to get my own lando norris?? 😭
user: she’s so pretty, i can’t
user: after reading the book, i just know this movies gonna break me 😩😩😩😩
user: LANDO LET ME HAVE HER, PLEASE
user: SCREAMING!!! CANNOT WAIT!!!!
user: i have been looking forward to this movie since they announced it, can’t believe we’re only one week away
joshandresrivera: who’s the cute guy at the end??
↳ yourusername: just some guy i know 🤷🏻‍♀️
user: caNnot wait, omggggg
user: read the book and idk if i’m mentally prepared
user: you look soo good 😩😩😩
songbirdsandsnakes: our lucy gray ❤️❤️
user: i’m actually freaking tf out about this alapapalddbsod
user: YES YES YES YES YES
oscarpiastri: can i get free tickets?
↳ yourusername: absolutely!
↳ user: i love this duo so much 🤣
user: movie of the year incoming????
user: the movie hasn’t even come out yet and the amount of snow x lucy gray edits i’ve seen just from the trailer alone 😩
↳ user: i just know once the movie comes out they’ll be all over tiktok …. i can’t wait tho!!!!!!
user: i just realized that jason schwartman, viola davis, and peter dinklage are in this too!!! alwnsofnf
user: i’ve seen the trailer like 10+ times, can’t wait!!
hunterschafar: ❤️
user: will josh and jlaw be in this??
↳ user: noooo 💀 bro, this is set 64 years before them
user: she’s playing lucy gray right???
↳ user: yes
user: AHHHHHH
user: can’t wait for all the interviews omg!!!!
user: yn and the hunger games???? SIGN ME TF UPPP
user: soo excited over this
user: i wonder if lando will be attending the premiere
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 675,758 others
yourusername: last race with my favorite boyyy 🥺🧡
tagged: @landonorris
view 4,846 comments
user: LAST RACE??? WHYYY????
↳ user: she starts press tour tomorrow for the hunger games
user: ima miss seeing you in the paddock 😩
user: ima miss you in the paddock 😩 but i cannot wait for the hunger games press interviews
user: his smile 😩😩
user: my fav papayas 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 + oscar
user: the first pic 😭😭
user: last race??? nooooooo
user: wait, im confused …. why’s she leaving???
user: gonna miss you
user: last pic 😩
user: YN?!?!!? YOURE LEAVING??!?? 😭😭😭😭😭
user: my favssssss 🧡
user: ya’ll acting as if she’s leaving forever and won’t see her again lmaooo 🤣 she’s doing press tour bc the movie she’s in comes out in a week
landonorris: 😘😘😘
landonorris: gonna miss your cute face 🥺
↳ yourusername: gonna miss you tooo, pretty boy 🥺
user: the way he smiles around her
user: wait when is she leaving???
↳ yourusername: a little after the race
↳ user: wait why tho??
↳ user: she starts press tour tomorrow since her movie comes out next week lol
oscarpiastri: that smile thoooo 🤭
user: where is she going????
user: THE best couple
user: what movie is she going for?
↳ user: the hunger games
↳ user: WAIT FRR????? is it the new one???
user: parents, frrrrr 😍
user: can’t wait for press tour, i just know she’s gonna slay
carlossainz55: pic creds to me, thank you 💁🏻‍♂️
↳ yourusername: 🙄🙄🙄 yea yea
↳ landonorris: 😘
↳ user: ynlando who??? i only know carlando ❤️🧡
user: they’re the reason i believe in love ❤️❤️
user: the way he looks at her, bro 😭😭😭
↳ user: he’s sooo in love, i can’t 😩😩
user: we won’t see ynlando for a while 😭
user: my ynlando heart 😍😍😍❤️❤️
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, hunterschafer and 689,945 others
yourusername: thank you, berlin ❤️ @thehungergames
tagged: @tomblyth @hunterschafer @joshandresrivera
view 7,526 comments
user: THE REFERENCE OMG!!!!
user: MOTHER IS SERVING, OOH MYYYY 😍😍😍😍
user: he’s sooo fine!! but he looks EXTRA FINE with the buzz cut & blonde hair 😮‍💨
📌 pinned
↳ yourusername: told yaaaa @tomblyth
joshandresrivera: ohh hiiii 👋🏼
user: yn came to serve
user: tom’s the new white boy of the month!!!
user: HER PINNED COMMENT
user: tom’s soo good looking 😩
user: she’s so beautiful 😍😍
hunterschafer: WERK
↳ yourusername: are we about to kiss rn?
user: okay but why do i ship her and tom?? 🫣
user: idc what anyone says, she looks gorgeous! 😍
user: ngl but tom and yn look good together 🤷🏻‍♀️
↳ user: she’s got a bf and he’s got a gf
user: this man’s gorgeous but i also gotta remember he’s the one responsible for finnick’s death
↳ yourusername: same bestie 🥺
↳ user: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
user: okay but her and tom look soo good 😩😩
landonorris: stunning 😍
landonorris: you’re gorgeous
↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘😘
↳ user: them >>>
↳ user: missing them rn 😩😩
user: dress is gorgeous! she’s gorgeous! i just don’t like the top of the dress, if i’m being honest
tomblyth: ❤️❤️
user: cannot wait till the movie is out!!!!
user: tHe second slide and fourth slide slandnslsmd
user: oBSESSED 😩😩😩😩
user: i can already tell yn and tom are gonna be my fav duo
user: tom tho 😍
user: you look soo beautiful, i can’t 😩
user: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍
user: i’m already a simp for president snow, and the movie hasn’t even come out yet
user: TOM, OMG 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
user: THE WAY SHE PINNED THAT ONE COMMENT 😂 yn being a coriolanus simp confirmed???
user: everything about you is soo slayyyyyyyyyy
user: nothing beats the original cast but they all look sooooo good, i can’t even lie
user: the dress reference 🤩
user: PLEASE GIVE TOM MY NUMBER!!!! OR GIVE ME HIS NUMBER EITHER IS FINE WITH ME
user: is it just me or does tom look better with the buzz cut and blonde hair???
↳ yourusername: you’re not the only one 😩 ive told him several times!!!!!!
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yourusername
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liked by joshandresrivera, landonorris and 699,947 others
yourusername: world premiere for @thehungergames 🇬🇧
view 6,836 comments
user: THE THRID POST ALSNDKDKDMDNSN
user: i ship
user: why do they look so in love in that third slide??
joshandresrivera: 🧡
user: yn, babe, where’s lando????
user: that don’t look like lando to me 👀
user: the chemistry is INSANE 😮‍💨
landonorris: you’re killing it, babe ❤️
↳ yourusername: 😘😘 love yaa
↳ landonorris: i love you moreeee 😘
↳ user: parents 😭😭😭
user: i hope her and tom date, they look so good together
user: ya’ll gotta stop shipping tom and yn, yn’s literally dating lando and tom’s got a girlfriend
user: tom and her look so good 😩😩😩
tomblyth: love you, gorgeous ❤️
↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️
↳ user: IM SORRY WHAT??!???
↳ user: excuse me??? sir????
user: TOMS COMMENT AKALSMDN
user: the chemistry is INSANE
user: he called her gorgeous 😭😭😭 brb gonna go cry
hunterschafer: YUPPPPP
hunterschafer: serving as always!
user: MOTHER IS SERVING 😍😍😍
user: obsessed with you and tom 😍😍😍
user: if i were lando, i would be crying in a corner rn
user: why do they look like a couple in that third slide??
user: toMs’S COMMENT!! he called her gorgeous
user: ya’ll shipping her with tom as if she doesn’t have a bf
↳ user: have you ever heard of cheating??
user: ya’ll see the interview?? she called him delicious and said that it’s so easy to fall in love with him 😭😭
↳ user: she said, “and getting to work with that is delicious to an actor like me” bffr she never said anything about it being easy to fall in love with him 🙄
↳ user: actually she did proceed to talk about how easy it is to fall in love with him?????? if anything you bffr
user: @landonorris come get your girl
user: she’s so touchy with him 🙄🙄🙄🙄
user: LANDO OPEN YOUR EYES
user: we’re all thinking the same thing right?? 😏
user: they’re definitely fucking around
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tomblyth
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liked by yourusername, hunterschafer and 678,927 others
tomblyth: thank you, l.a. 🤩
tagged: @yourusername @joshandresrivera @hunterschafer
view 5,936 comments
user: ngl but yn and tom look cute together
user: PARENTS FRRRR 😍😍😍😍😍
user: lando & yn >>>>>
user: they have sm tension
user: ya’ll are crazy if you think yn would leave lando for tom
↳ user: and youre crazy for not thinking that maybe yn already cheated on lando with tom 🫢
user: @landonorris @landonorris @landonorris
user: lando’s busy trying to win a race while yn’s busy fooling around with tom
yourusername: SNOW FALLS ON TOP!!!
↳ user: yes, on top of you
↳ user: nahhhhh 😭😭😭
user: how’d you know about the tattoo??? 👀
yourusername: love yaaaa ❤️
↳ tomblyth: back at you! ❤️
↳ user: @landonorris
hunterschafer: cute
↳ user: how does it feel to third wheel all the time?
user: yn’s literally soo gorgeous!!! 😩
user: if i were yn, i’d be all over him too, idcccc
user: lando’s stronger than me bc if my gf was like this with another man id be going apeshit
user: they’re 100% having an affair
↳ user: ohh definitely!
↳ user: the fact that he knew about her tattoo that none of us knew about says a lot!!!! this man has explored her body
user: yntom >>> ❤️❤️❤️
user: i wonder if lando knows about the tattoo tom was referring to
↳ user: that man is clueless like the rest of us
user: @landonorris
user: not ppl tagging lando 😭😭
↳ user: he’s gottta open his eyes
↳ user: @landonorris
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imessage
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— author’s note: this is simply for the story, i’m aware that rachael and tom both have partners
pt2?
2K notes · View notes
builtbybrokenbells · 5 months
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Heartbreak Hot Seat | JTK
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After seeking refuge at her best friends house, Y/N can’t seem to open up enough to let Josh help her with her troubles. In a twisted turn of events, it appears that his twin brother Jake has the perfect remedy for a broken heart.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 20k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), body worshipping, sir kink, impact play, praise, degradation, biting, nipple play, lots (and I mean lots) of dirty talk, lots (can’t stress that enough) of foreplay, body shots, softer sex (compared to what I usually write), overstimulation, multiple orgasm, (sort of) forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, begging, very brief and inadvertent mentions of free use kink, slight dom/sub, name calling, touch of angst, mentions of cheating/bad past relationships, breakups, sadness/depression (due to breakups), crying, long emotional talks, drinking, parting, Jake being too sweet for his own good, soft Jake, fluff, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!
hi guys ☺️ i miss writing Jake so much I had to hit you with back to back fics. this is literally porn w plot (over 2/3 of this is just smut I think), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it! As always, enjoy, be kind, don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (I’m so, so happy to be back) (lightly edited 🥰)
“Here, you want to try this?” Josh asked, nudging your arm in hopes of breaking you from your solemn state. You blinked a few times, feeling his elbow on your skin, but his words were far away. They seemed like an echo in an empty room, like you had walked into the place only after he stopped speaking. Breathing seemed like a treacherous task, your bones aching every time your lungs inflated. You stared blankly at his hand, holding a fork in his grasp as he kindly offered you a taste of whatever he was eating. “Jake made it, it’s good.”
Jake made it.
You were sure whatever he made would be good, but the thought of food was worse than sickening to you. You wanted to be kind, to try the meal your friend (even if by extension) had made, especially after he offered you the hospitality for an afternoon hangout his home, but you couldn’t seem to accept the gracious offer. The crowd in the living room was overwhelming, despite only a few bodies being present. The chatter was loud and pulsing against your already busy brain, and Josh’s leg resting against yours was nice, but much more than you could handle in the moment.
Josh knew there was something wrong, but unlike usual, he could not seem to pry it from you. Over the last three nights you had spent crashing in his spare room, he used every ounce of energy to comfort you despite being unaware of what exactly your troubles were. You knew you could reach out to him anytime, talk to him about anything, but right now, it seemed impossible to speak the words aloud.
You had been friends with the boy for what seemed like a lifetime, surviving off his constant company and thriving off his eccentric personality. He stuck by your side through college graduations, career changes, and every challenge life seemed to throw your way. You were a busy woman, and he a busy man, and neither of you had much time for social lives outside of your demanding work schedules. Even so, that fact made your friendship all the stronger, because despite your lack of free time, you always made time for each other.
So when you showed up at his doorstep, 3am and crying while spewing absolute nonsense, he guided you to his spare bedroom and told you that it was yours for as long as you needed. The next morning, he came to check on you only to find you hadn’t slept at all. Hours spent sitting beside you attempting to cheer you up only resulted in further confusion and frustration. Despite his busy life, he cleared his schedule and made it a priority to be with you until you felt better. That afternoon, you managed some small talk, but avoided the elephant in the room. The next day, things felt a little more normal between the two of you. A few jokes were shared, and you even had a movie night in the living room with him and his partner. By then, Josh had vowed to let you speak on your own terms, but was doing everything he could to brighten your mood.
Today, when you woke from a broken and nightmare filled sleep, Josh knocked at your door to ask if you would like to get out of the house. After some internal debate, you decided it might be good for you, it might help you forget the only thing you could seem to think about, even if it was temporary. You showered (with Josh talking through the door and stressing the importance of self-care, of course), changed into some clothes you stuffed into a duffel bag during your quick escape, and the three of you hit the road.
After a short drive, you landed at the door of his twin brother’s house, where you would spend your afternoon. Jake, who you had heard loads of things about, was still a mystery to you. Between conflicting schedules and trying (and failing, sometimes) to find time to hang out with Josh, you never got much of an opportunity to get to know Jake, or even Sam for that matter. You knew he was quieter, a little more reserved than Josh, but was funny and had a heart of gold. You chalked up his praise to being his brother, but you never knew Josh to be a liar about anything. You trusted all he had to say about his brothers, and despite your sadness, you were excited to finally meet them properly, rather than just in passing.
You said a brief hello to Jake at times, mostly when you were leaving Josh’s house and he was heading in. You remembered him to be on the shorter side, but with a breathtaking smile and long, brown hair. When you stepped foot into the house and finally had time to appreciate the man standing in front of you, you understood Jake was a lot more than a pretty smile and long hair. He was stunning, and despite your broken heart, you couldn’t help but stare.
Not long after your brief introduction, the rest of the crowd begin to filter in. Sam and his girlfriend both seemed lovely, and Daniel and the friend he brought with him were just as nice. Jake had made lunch, and whatever it was smelled heavenly even if the thought of food sickened you. After a few hours of laughing and talking, the boys went back for seconds, clearing out the last of the food in the kitchen. The day was dwindling into evening, and you still hadn’t managed to break from your solemn state. You sat, listening to all of the conversations and laughing along to jokes, but didn’t find yourself with enough energy to contribute much.
Josh, clearly picking up on your lack of involvement, was doing all he could to help. Offering food was just another failed attempt of many.
“I’m okay, Josh. Thank you though.” You forced a smile, feeling guilty for your constant rejection. You wanted to tell him so badly, but every time you worked up enough courage to explain it, your words failed you and you thought you might be sick. His sad eyes seemed to be staring into your soul, and it was becoming too much to bear. “I’m, uh, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” You cleared your throat, asking for permission in hopes of changing the subject.
“F’course it is, mama.” He assured you. “You want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, sliding forward and rising to your feet.
“Grab anything in the fridge. I know Jake won’t care.” He said, making sure you didn’t feel bad about taking anything.
“Okay.” You smiled, small but genuine. You didn’t feel deserving of Josh’s kindness, but you were still grateful he cared for you so much. If not for him, you would have nobody to lean on.
Quietly, you walked out of the living room and in the direction of the kitchen Jake had lead you to earlier in the day. When you were alone, you let out a long sigh. The kitchen was decorated nicely, simple but tasteful, and the sweet smell of whatever Jake had cooked was still lingering in the air. Instead of walking to the refrigerator, you took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs pulled out from the table, deciding a minute alone was more important than a glass of water.
You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back on your shoulders. The chatter floating in from the next room was much less overwhelming, and you finally felt like you could breathe without the constant ache in your chest. Just when you felt like you were getting your bearings back, you heard soft footsteps puttering through the hallway. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the same one that was constantly bothering you since you showed up at Josh’s house, and prepared for another round of questions from your best friend. You didn’t turn to face him, figuring he would make himself known in due time.
“Hey, Y/N, right?” The voice was not as familiar to you, and definitely not the voice you thought it would be. You looked over your shoulder, curious as to who was talking. Your eyes landed on Jake, a sheepish smile on his face as he stood by the door.
“Hey, yeah.” You nodded, trying to make yourself friendlier than you felt. It was not Jake making you miserable, or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be having fun, to be getting to know the people most important to your best friend, but the weight on your shoulders made it so hard to enjoy the moment.
“I saw you sneak out, thought I’d come and check in on you.” He explained, careful with his words. “Mind if I sit?” You gave a chuckle, and genuine smile as you listened to his words.
“It’s your kitchen, Jake, f’course you can sit.”
“Right,” he nodded, stepping towards you. “Guess I was wondering if you were up for company, or if you just needed a minute alone. I know it can be a lot to handle when we’re all together.”
“No! You guys are great, guess I’m just not in it today.” You said, knowing he hit the nail straight on the head but you were too nice to admit it. “Come sit, please.” He did as you said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He was in perfect view and facing you, giving you ample opportunity to soak in his features as he thought about how to continue the conversation.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. Josh mentioned you were going through a tough time when I called him this morning. We were kinda hoping it would take your mind off whatever’s going on.” You wanted to recoil at the idea of Josh sharing your sorrows with a man you did not know, but the intent was sweet, and you knew Josh would never do anything to harm you. He was just a concerned friend looking for a way to cheer you up. Jake, despite being a near stranger, had enough kindness in his heart to want to help too.
And sweetheart.
You didn’t know the man, nor much about him, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that again.
“Thank you,” your lips twitched into another smile as you looked down at your hands on the table. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”
“Josh?” Jake asked for clarification that he heard right, raising his eyebrow at you. You gave a small nod, almost wanting to laugh at his incredulous tone. “Yeah, I mean I guess. I kind of have to agree, cause he’s my brother and all.” At that, a genuine laugh filled the air, the first one that left your lips in days. Jake was hung on your laugh the minute it left your lips, finding the sound addicting despite just having heard it for the first time. The smile on his face made it apparent he only came to cheer you up, and he was happy he could do it even for a moment. “No, he is pretty great, even if I do hate him by times.”
“It’s a sibling thing, I think.” You said, looking back up at his face. “Love them, even when you hate them.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “He’s my best friend, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes. Has a great heart, but he can be a bit… annoying.”
“Josh? No.” You scoffed, playing into the bit as clear sarcasm dripped from your tone. At that, Jake let out a laugh of his own. You watched, in amazement at how beautiful such a simple sound could be. “Seriously though, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Yeah, you guys have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” He asked, leaning forward and into the conversation. It was your turn to nod, finding years of memories flash before your eyes when you thought of it for too long.
“Yeah, I met him as I was finishing up my graduate program in university. He’d just moved here, and I guess he was looking for some friends. Right place right time, I suppose.”
“Funny how things like that work out.” He said, listening intently to every word.
“For sure.” You hummed, pursing your lips slightly at the memory of how you met. “Ran into him at a bar, drunk off tequila and singing a terrible rendition of… oh, fuck, what was it?” You racked your brain, trying so hard to find the name of the song in the mess of your mind. “It was Neil Young, I remember that much.” You sighed, shaking your head at your spotty memory.
“Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” He finished for you, a sparkle shining in his eye as he saw your expression light up.
“Yes! How did you know?” You asked, shocked he knew before you did.
“I was there that night, and I definitely made fun of him just as much as you did.” He explained, chuckling at the thought.
“You were there?” You asked, even more surprised at that fact.
“Yeah, think I was playing pool with Sam. Josh sucks at pool, so he was trying to find a thrill elsewhere. He told us he met someone, he really liked their ‘energy’. Guess he was talking about you.” He continued, nodding at himself as he recollected the night from so long ago. “That, and he sings that damn song every time he drinks tequila.”
“Huh,” you huffed, wondering how you managed to miss him that night. “I guess I was out the door pretty fast. I don’t even think I talked to Josh for very long. Got his number and we were off to the next bar. We loved to party back then.”
“Shame, cause he’s been keeping you an awful secret for the last few years.” Jake let out a disapproving tsk at the end of his statement.
“No, it’s not him.” You promised, shutting down the notion. “Life’s crazy. I’m either always stuck at work, or at home—“ you cut yourself off, hearing the sound of the word fall from your lips. It was wrong, and so much so that it twisted your stomach with nausea. “Stuck at work.” You doubled back, feeling a frown start to form again. The word home felt like a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow back.
Jake watched you for a moment, curious about your sudden change of heart, but understanding it might not be the best time to venture into it.
“Did you want a drink, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his eyes flickering to the fridge. “Maybe something to take your mind off it?” You debated, wondering if it would better or worsen your mental state. Before you could decline, he spoke again. “I was gonna have one anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. Be nice to have someone to drink with, anyway.”
“Fuck it, why not?” You breathed, watching as another breathtaking smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Great.” He stood, taking two steps past you as he approached a cabinet by the refrigerator. “Want to come have a look?” He offered, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shrugged, nodding as you stood to join him. He opened the doors, revealing a plethora of bottles that all looked a little more expensive than you were used to. “Whatever you want.”
You noticed how close he was standing, how sweet his cologne smelled as it wafted in your direction. It was musky, ambery even, with sandalwood standing strong against the undertones. He had his finger resting against his chin as his eyes scanned the labels, clearly unsure of what he wanted, too. You couldn’t help but study the intricacies of his face, the bridge of his nose and how it casted a shadow over his soft cheeks, the unintentional pout of his bottom lip, and the enchanting colour of his irises. He was stunning, and it was hard not to notice it.
‘Stop it, Y/N. You’re in no position to think anyone is attractive, let alone your best friends brother.’ Your thoughts were right, full of warnings you knew you should listen to, yet there was something so enchanting about Jake that made it difficult to listen. ‘Thinking he’s attractive is only bad if I plan to act on it, which I’m definitely not. It’s okay to admire him, as long as that’s all it is.’ You felt the devil weigh in on the matter, and for some reason, that train of thought was much easier to go along with.
So you did. Simple as that, you decided to allow yourself the pleasure. It was almost as simple as acknowledging how beautiful Jake was.
“Anything catching your eye?” He asked, looking over at you. You knew he was aware of your staring, and when your eyes caught his, your cheeks tinged red. He gave you a smile, silently telling you all was well.
“There’s so much to choose from.” You said, forcing yourself to look back at the liquor cabinet.
“Do you like it straight, or do you prefer something sweet?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you once again. Although the question was innocent and clearly pertaining to the topic at hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart speed. Your body was encased in goosebumps at the simple thought of him meaning it in any other way.
“Usually sweet, but I think today I could handle it straight.” You replied, having to tear your eyes away from him again. Had you looked for a moment longer, you might have noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face.
“This is my favourite.” He said, reaching out and grabbing an expensive looking bottle. He brought it down to your level, leaning into you slightly as he let you read the label for yourself. As his arm brushed against yours, you felt the same pull of your heart as you did when he first sat across from you.
“I’ll try it out.” You mumbled, a little breathless as he looked over your face.
“Good taste,” he hummed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured you, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip ever so slightly.
“I trust you.” You said, feeling like you were coercing your tongue to speak the words.
“You should.” He responded, waiting for you to step away first. It felt like an eternity before you stepped backwards towards the table, but when you did, you missed the closeness of him almost immediately. The warmth of his body against yours was memorable, and definitely something you wanted to feel again.
You returned to your seat at the table, followed closely behind by Jake. Before he sat, he grabbed two glasses and the ice tray from the freezer. Carefully, he poured yours first before adding a few ice cubes to the cup. Then, he nudged it in your direction before fixing his own drink.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, swirling his ice around his cup before bringing it to his lips. As he sipped at the amber liquid, his eyes never left your face.
“Oh, nothing important.” You shook your head, averting your gaze to the glass in your hand. You did the same, raising the crystal to your lips and drinking down the alcohol like it was water.
“You’re drinking that awfully fast for someone who’s got ‘nothing important’ going on.” He noted, cocking his head to the side for a moment, as if he was trying to figure you out. “I’ve got an ear to lend, if you want to talk.” He offered, but opted not to press any further. He didn’t want to force you if you weren’t willing, but he did want you to know that the floor was yours if you needed.
“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” You chuckled, watching the condensation of the glass drip onto your fingers. The chill of the liquid distracted you from the severity of the topic. “You’ve been kind enough already, Jake. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”
“No thanks needed, y/n. Seriously, Josh talks about you enough that I feel like I already know you, and trust me when I say, I like you just as much as he does.” He promised, taking another small sip of his drink. “And I offered, sweetheart. I want to listen, even if you don’t think I do.”
“What is with you two?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his staggering kindness. “Too nice for your own good, both of you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” He grinned, finding your exasperation amusing.
“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, feeling your heart warm with gratitude for the two brothers. You barely knew Jake, but you agreed with what he said. Josh spoke about him enough that you felt like you were friends already, and by all of the nice things Josh had to say, you definitely liked him. Since stepping foot into the kitchen, you had come to greatly appreciate him for other reasons, too.
“That’s the heartbreak chair.” He explained, running a hand through his hair as he pushed it away from his face. “Something about it draws people in.” Your eyes flickered up to his face, shocked that he made such an assumption, and even more surprised that it was right. He barely knew you, but he could tell without you having to say a word.
“It’s that obvious?” You asked. He shook his head, rubbing his chin in his hand for a moment before he spoke again.
“No,” he cleared his throat, taking in a long breath before he continued. “Like I said, there’s something about that fuckin’ chair.”
“How so?”
“Two years ago, Sam sat there when his girlfriend broke up with him. Must’ve spent the whole night sitting there, drinking away the pain.” He said, thinking back on the event. “And Daniel, a few months back when him and his girlfriend went separate ways. Even Josh, a long time ago when we first moved here.” He explained. “Whatever it is, when people get their heart broken, they sit there. I usually sit here, but it’s not always me they’re talking to. Sometimes it’s Josh, or another friend, or anyone really.” You thought about his words, carefully considering your next question before asking it.
“Have you sat here?” Your eyes were showing the sadness you tried so hard to hide. You didn’t know why, but you were comfortable with Jake. You wanted to talk, to tell him all about the sadness plaguing you. Something about him made you believe that your sorrows were safe with him, and that he was the key to feeling better.
It was an invasive question, something personal and maybe too complicated for him to answer. You regretted asking, but hearing about his brother's sorrows didn’t sit right with you. If you were giving him a piece of you, you wanted a piece of him. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your face and the whiskey in his cup. Eventually, he gave a slow nod.
“More than anyone else, I think.” His honesty was sobering, and it was admirable. Because of his willingness to share his sadness with you, you felt even better about opening up to him. “I’ve never been lucky in love. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” He shrugged, the joke rolling off his tongue effortlessly despite the hidden pain in his eyes. “About six months ago, I was doing the same as you. Came home, she was gone without a trace. I stayed a few nights at Josh’s house, just ‘till I was strong enough to come back here, and I drank it all away. I’ve sat in that chair, sweetheart. You’re not the only broken heart this house has seen. Trust me.”
“It’s hard to open up to Josh about it.” You said, forcing your hand to hold the glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol in your chest was much preferred to the ache in your heart, but you persevered. “‘Specially when I watch how happy and in love he is. He’s got everything, you know? Nice house, kind heart, beautiful face, and a wonderful boyfriend. It’s intimidating talking about my mess of a life to someone who always seems to have their shit together.”
“I can see what you mean.” He nodded along, agreeing to an extent. “You know, he’d never think differently of you. He loves you a whole hell of a lot.”
“I know that, but I think when you’re this miserable, it’s hard to believe anyone cares that much.”
“For sure.” He said, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey.
Just as he placed his cup down on the table, the distant chatter in the living room began to move closer. Both of you turned to the entryway to the kitchen, wondering what the disturbance was. Soon enough, the crowd filled the doorway, but only Sam and Josh were visible.
“Think we’re gonna head to the bar, you two in?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation in front of him.
“I’m good.” Jake said, his tone firm and certain of his answer. Josh looked at you, curiosity in his eyes as he waited for a response.
“Y/N?” Josh asked, wondering if you were joining them. You looked between the twins, your eyes lingering a bit too long over Jake. When you looked back at Josh, you shook your head slightly.
“Think I might hang out here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”
“F’course it is.” Jake chimed in. “You go, I’ll get her back to your place safe and sound.” Josh looked to you once more, making sure you were alright. You gave him a smile, nodding your head in agreement with Jake.
“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you, mama.”
“Love you too, Josh.” You smiled again, wider and with more warmth than ever.
With that, the group moved towards the door, and they were out in the yard within seconds. The silence hung heavy between you and Jake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. So far, despite you being a stranger, your talk with Jake had been nothing but comfortable.
“So, does that mean you don’t think I have my life together?” Jake continued where you left off, clearly teasing. The smile on his face gave him away as he pulled his chair a little closer to you.
“‘Spose I don’t know you well enough to know, yet. From what I see, looks like you do, if that counts?” He let out a laugh, finding your humor despite the pain beautiful.
“You hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed you didn’t eat earlier.”
“Think I missed the draw on that one.” You said, looking at the empty dish on the stove. He stood, wordless as he walked to the refrigerator. He searched for a few seconds before pulling out a plate, flashing it in your direction.
“Put some away for you, just in case. I knew they would eat it all, so I just wanted to make sure there was some left.” He explained. The sound of his words made your heart ache, but it wasn’t in a bad way; the simple action, especially coming from someone who barely knew you, made the whole world seem a little bit brighter. You understood Josh’s constant talk of how big of a heart Jake had now that you had the chance to see it for yourself.
“Thank you, Jake.” You mustered the strength to speak, in awe of his attention to detail. He stuck it in the microwave, waiting for it to beep before placing it in front of you with a fork. Without mentioning it again, he sat back in the same spot, as if the last few minutes had never happened at all.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked again, more direct this time now that he felt he had some kind of leverage. Clearly he made a good enough impression on you, considering you hadn’t run out the door when the opportunity arose. Before responding, you took a few bites of the meal he’d made in preparation for his company. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the taste something you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if it was just because he was a good cook, or if it was because it had been days since you had a proper meal. Maybe, it was a combination of both.
For such a simple looking pasta dish, it was beyond anything you had ever eaten before.
“This is so fucking good, Jake.” You commended him for his efforts. He let out another laugh, happy that you were enjoying it.
“Good to know,” he nodded. “I’ll have to make it for you again sometime.”
“You’ll never get rid of me.” You joked, placing the fork down for a moment, wanting to make the meal last.
“Not the worst idea in the world.” He shrugged. You felt your cheeks dust with redness, his words almost too sweet for you to handle. You washed down the pleasant feeling of his compliments with another sip of whiskey, settling back in your seat as you prepared to confess.
“I think I’ve always been too blind to see the bad side of people,” you started, simple and easy to kick off the topic. “I like to see the best in everyone, ‘till the very end.”
“Admirable.” He responded quickly, shocking you with his interest in your sorrows.
“I dated this guy for a while, a few years at least. Guess it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I loved him, or the idea of him, more so. He moved in with me not long after we met, and it was nice. Things seemed real good for a long time, but a couple months ago, he kinda pulled back a bit. I didn’t think much of it, ‘cause I was working all the time anyway, but I probably should have.” You sighed. “I started noticing he was gone when I came home at night, or when he went out, he stayed out far too late for a couple drinks with friends. Found some… suspicious things around the house, but chalked it up to a bad memory.” You laughed, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “I went home after work on Friday, and he was in bed with another girl. Mutual friend, real pretty, sweet on the surface… everything that I’m not.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart.” He shook his head, stopping that thought before it could go any further.
“Think we were long overdue for a breakup, but I thought it would be more decent than that.” You shuddered, recalling the moment that had been plaguing you for days. “I’m less heartbroken over him than I am for the whole thing. It’s just… dehumanizing, I guess. How many times did we… you know, after they started? And in my bed? Where I sleep at night?” You continued, watching the ice circle the bottom of your cup as the liquid neared the end. Jake reached out for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass for you. You smiled, a silent thank you for everything he was doing.
“There wasn’t really a fight, or anything. I mean, I yelled for a little while, but it wasn’t worth my time. I told him to pack his shit and get out, and I assume he did. I haven’t been back, but I haven’t heard from him, either. Guess I just… don’t want to be in that place right now, alone, with that memory.”
“Don’t know the guy, but I can tell you he’s a fucking idiot.” He said, throwing back the last of his drink and refilling his own cup. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be home. Like I said, I stayed at Josh’s for a while too. Sometimes it’s nice to get out of the place full of stuff that reminds you of them.”
“Yeah, exactly.” You gave a somber nod, blinking away tears threatening your eyes. “Think it always circles back to the same thing at the end of the day… hard not to think it’s me, that I wasn’t enough, or if I could have done more. That’s the hardest part of it, really. Not like he was the boyfriend of the year or anything, but I never would have done that to him.” You took another long swig of whiskey, feeling your head begin to swirl with intoxication.
“It’s not you, Y/N. You know better than that.” He said, furrowing his brow as he thought over your story. “So what is it? What do you need?”
“What?” You asked, unsure of what he meant.
“He got what he wanted, so what do you need, sweetheart? To scream? Cry? To get so drunk that you don’t know where you are?” He listed the offers, as if they were all completely reasonable and understandable. He didn’t want to speak empty words, or give you reassurances that would wash right off your shoulders once he was done speaking. He wanted to help you feel better, however he could. “We could even key his car, if you know where to find it.”
You let out a laugh, one that shook your shoulders and made your stomach ache. While you laughed, tears slipped on to your cheeks, but they did not phase you. Jake’s company was so fantastic that the hurt didn’t even seem to bother you anymore.
“You’re too beautiful to be crying over someone like that, sweetheart.” He leaned over, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops staining your cheeks. Once he finished, he cupped your cheek in his palm, ensuring you knew he was being truthful.
“No idea how you’ve never been the bride, Jacob.” You said, exhaling a long breath as you melted into his touch. It felt nice to be touched at all, and even better to be touched by someone who cared. It felt like it had been an eternity since you had experienced that in particular.
“My day will come, just like yours will.” He promised. “I know it hurts, but with time, you’ll thank him for it, because a girl like you shouldn’t end up with a guy like that.”
“Thank you, Jake.” You said, the utmost sincerity in your voice.
“Don’t mention it.” He brushed off the thanks, smiling over at you. “Now what is it? What will make you feel better, right now? ‘Cause I’ll be damned if I send you out the door before you feel better.”
“I just want to stop.” You sighed, rubbing your face in your hands. “I want to stop hurting, to stop thinking about him, to stop feeling like a different person. I want to feel like me. I want to feel good, instead of being miserable.” Jake leaned back in his chair, watching your face carefully as he thought about your request. You looked over at him, chuckling at yourself. “I know, steep request. Probably not much in the world we can do about that. Yet, anyway.”
“No, there is.” He cleared his throat, pursing his lips together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his response.
“Go on.” You urged him, curious about his idea.
“I don’t know if I can help you feel exactly like yourself again,” he started, looking up at the ceiling while he tried to word his response. “But I definitely have a quick solution for some of those problems.”
“Let’s hear it, then.” He smirked at your eagerness to feel better. Before he continued, he threw back the last of his drink for a second time. You could tell he was feeling it now, too. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes grew heavier the longer he sipped away.
“You’re open to any suggestions?”
“Well, most.” You huffed, almost annoyed by how long he was dragging this out. “Maybe not murder or armed robbery.” He laughed at your exuberance, shaking his head slightly.
“Well, sweetheart…” he sighed. “You want to stop thinking about him, and you want to feel good.” He listed, waiting to see if he was correct. You nodded in response, still not seeming to piece the two together. “If you’re open to trying it, I’m sure I could solve both of those problems at once.”
“Okay, Jake, this is not helping. Can you just—“ you cut yourself off, your eyes widening in shock as the puzzle finally clicked in place. You swallowed hard, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. As you looked at his expression, your cheeks burned red and your throat went dry. “Just to clarify, are you offering what I think you are?”
“Depends, beautiful.” He said, his tone soft and his eyes trained to your face. “What do you think I’m saying?”
“Are you offering to fuck me?” You wanted to be repulsed by the idea, but you were far from it. If anything, the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach told you the exact opposite, imploring you to fall into his arms and let him do as he pleased with you.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that would get your mind off him.” He argued his point, playful and calm so you knew rejection was more than allowed. “And if you’ll let me, I know I could help with that other part, too.” He let out a small huff of breath, as if he was excited just by the prospect of the opportunity.
“You offer that to every heartbroken girl who sits in this chair?” You asked, ensuring he knew you weren’t denying the offer.
“No,” he shook his head. “You’d be the first, and the only one, I think.”
“You think?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Never know what the future brings.” He shrugged, trying to keep his composure. As soon as he saw your bewildered face, he doubled over in laughter. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but when he did, he did not seem to retract his statement. When he realized you took his words seriously, he stood from his chair, stepping towards you as he spoke.
“Yes, sweetheart. The only one. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” You said, your eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid his heavy stare. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, so I’m not sure how to react.”
“Only if you want to, of course, but the offer is on the table.” He said, retracting his hand so as not to pressure you into it. You took a drink from your cup, finding your chest burning as you did so. Difference was, you knew it was not because of the liquor. As you sat the cup back on the table, you looked up at him, inspecting him closely.
He was attractive, and that was undeniable. You had been thinking about it since the minute you saw him, and you couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head. Just half an hour ago, you were shivering from the closeness of his body when you were standing by the liquor cabinet, and now you were quivering just from the thought of his hands on your body. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but in the moment, what he was saying made sense to you.
He was hot, you were desperate to forget, and he was offering a quick solution.
“Okay.” You nodded. “Why not?” He watched you for another moment, standing still while you decided for certain that’s what you wanted to do. “Uhm, we won’t tell Josh about this, right?” You asked, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you.
“Definitely not.” He laughed.
“And it’s just that? Just sex?”
“Just sex, just tonight, if that’s what you want.” He assured you.
“Okay.” You nodded again, more confident this time around. “Just sex, just tonight, with a guy I just met, who happens to be my best friend's twin brother?”
“It sounds better my way.” He said, taking a step towards you.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Sex with someone who is happy to make you feel better.” He spoke quietly, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. His face was closer than it had been all night, and if it were even possible, he was even more stunning up close.
“Yeah, that does sound better.” You agreed, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Jake seemed to prompt more of a physical reaction in you just by looking at you than your ex did in the entire time you’d been with him.
You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey combining with the heartbreak forcing you to make a deadly decision, or if it was just the fact you were attracted to him. Either way, you knew you couldn’t leave his house without a taste of what he was offering, because he had excited you just by mentioning it. You felt like leaving him without knowing what he could do for you would cause more grief than your breakup had in the last few days.
“So what do you say, sweetheart?” He asked, reaching forward and brushing his knuckle over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, but you tried not to let it phase you too much. “You want me to help you forget about him?”
“Think you already have.” You mustered the strength to speak, but not the strength to look him in the eyes. You were sure if you did, you would turn to putty in his hands.
“So you’re saying you don’t need anything else?” He pried, finding the teasing amusing now that he knew you were okay with his actions.
“No, I definitely do.” You corrected him, finally opening your eyes to look over his face. “I really do.”
“Tell me what you need, angel.” He said, flattening his palm against your cheek again. His fingers were tangled in the loose strands of hair hanging over your neck, the action more telling than the last time he touched you. It was firm, more reassuring, and meant to solidify his feelings about the situation.
“You,” you bit the inside of your lip, almost embarrassed about your need for him.
“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Think we’re long past that.” He said, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Although he had full intent to follow through with his earlier promise, he wanted you to be in charge of the matter.
“Kiss me, please.” With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face in his hand.
His lips still tasted like the alcohol he was sipping on, and his skin was still cold from the ice in his cup. Even so, the chill of his skin was quickly offset by the warmth of his tongue as it glided past your lips. The feeling was addicting, much more intense than you thought it might be. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for more. His fingers seemed to be burning into your skin, the touch electric and the sensation ten times more powerful than anything you had ever felt before. The emotion flowing through you from such a simple action was immeasurable, and you already needed more.
“Like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his lips still ghosting over yours as he presented the question. You were breathless, your head spinning and your mind completely free of the painful thoughts that previously seemed permanently attached to you.
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice quiet. You could feel him smiling, cocky enough to know his plan was already working. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Come with me.” He said, moving away from you and rising back to his feet. Although you were sad he pulled away at all, you knew it was for a better reason. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his own cup, waiting for you as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. You took your own from the table, waiting for him to make the next move.
He outstretched his arm, still holding the bottle tightly in his hand as he loosely wrapped the appendage around you. Carefully, he guided you to the hallway. Without any further words shared, he led the way to his bedroom with intent to finish what he started. As soon as you stepped inside, you were surrounded by him. His cologne lingered in the air, and his clothes littered the floor. His bed was messy, but in the most inviting way possible. Patch cords and guitar picks littered the surface of his dresser, and an acoustic guitar took post in the corner of the room.
Although the stipulations of your entanglement did not extend beyond a single night, curiousity got the best of you. With your heart singing a song curated specifically for him, it was hard not to want to know more about him. Seeing his life so intimately made you crave more substance from him, even if it was ridiculous for you to think.
“What’s on your mind now?” He asked, placing the liquor down on his bedside table.
“Nothing bad,” you assured him, still trying to soak in all the room had to offer. “Guess I’m just curious about you now, is all.”
“All you have to do is ask.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “Later, though, because talking isn’t my top priority right now.” You watched him as he closed in on you, your stomach twisting with excitement at his words. Before he could place his lips on yours again, you swallowed back the last of your drink and placed the empty cup on the top of his dresser, freeing your hands so you only had to focus on him.
You stepped forward, closing the distance between you as your hand landed on his bicep. Now, with the opportune position, he had the luxury to touch you as he pleased with nothing standing in his way. One of his hands fell to your hip, his grip firm as he pulled your body into his own. He leaned down, placing his other hand on the back of your neck as he guided your head towards his. He started slow, fearful he might have come on too strong, but you weren’t willing to take your time with him.
It had been a long time since you had been excited by the prospect of sex, and despite knowing you should not be feeling such a way about anyone, let alone Jake in particular, he had elicited that response from you easier than anyone who came before. Even though his kindness was the most abundant of all his traits, you caught a few glimpses of what lie beneath, and if you were being completely honest, that was what held your attention.
The way his arm felt resting against yours at the liquor cabinet, the sly smile after his ambiguous questions, his heavy stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and the sparkle in his eye when you laughed. That was what drew you in, and everything else was just a cherry on top.
When you first sat with Jake, you almost felt guilty that you were so willing to tell him about your troubles, especially after shutting Josh out. Now, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring your body, it made sense that you felt such a way. Jake was offering much more than Josh could, and he could help in ways that Josh could not begin to imagine. He gave you an easy pass to forgetting, a quick solution to feeling good, and a simple way to move on, even if it were only for a short time. Jake was the perfect fit for what you needed, and you were happy that he was so eager to help.
Time was the only true healer, but Jake was a catalyst to speed the process up, and a very pleasurable one at that.
As the kiss continued, the two of you grew much more comfortable with each other. Your body had relaxed and your hands were more courageous as they travelled over the parts of him you were desperate to know. Your entire body was ablaze with excitement, and your mind was completely free of all the previous fears and feelings you were plagued with. His hand on your hip had drifted to your ass, pulling your hips forward into his as he became familiar with the taste of you on his lips.
If you had any fear about his willingness to sleep with you, it was destroyed within seconds of stepping into his bedroom. You could feel his own excitement, through his actions and other, more obvious signs. As he continued to kiss you, you could feel his erection against your leg, straining against the zipper of his jeans. As much as he wanted to take your mind off of things, you were just as happy to relieve him of the problem you had so easily caused.
When he parted from the kiss, his lips were pink and swollen, glistening with spit under the low light flowing in through his window. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, and his eyes were darker than they were in the kitchen.
If you thought he was beautiful before, it had nothing on how he looked now.
His hands drifted under the hem of your shirt as he looked over your face, ensuring you were comfortable with continuing. When he was met with pleading eyes and a hopeful expression, his lips quirked up into a smile as he lifted your shirt over your head. As he tossed it to the floor, his gaze traveled downward, allowing himself to admire the parts of you that were usually kept hidden. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if the sight knocked the air from him completely and he was trying to recover from the shock.
“So fucking beautiful, angel.” He hummed, his hands finding you again as he spoke. The feeling of his calloused fingertips against the smooth skin was exhilarating, and even more enticing than anything he’d done before. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, bringing his lips back to your skin as if he was already missing the feeling of kissing you.
He focused on your neck for a moment, curiously exploring as he tried to find the sweet spots. When his tongue settled below your ear, a whine fell from your lips, so quiet he nearly missed it. The sound reached his ears, sending his skin tingling as it wrapped around his spine and made home there. He kept his attention in the same spot, desperate to hear more. Your hand raised to his arm, holding yourself steady as your stomach swirled with emotion. His mouth continued lower, and courage flooded him as his hands continued to familiarize themselves with you.
He unhooked your bra, brushing the straps from your shoulders as his mouth landed on your collarbone. You felt his teeth graze the skin, the action gentle but purposeful as your bra fell to the ground with your shirt. Now, without anything standing between the two of you, his hand landed on your breast. His thumb drifted over your nipple, moving in a slow circular motion as he felt it harden under his touch. The small sensation only furthered the ache between your legs, and you could feel the wetness begin to soak through the fabric of your underwear.
As he continued his work, you felt your thighs squeeze together in a shameless attempt to ease the discomfort. You didn’t want to rush him, because everything he was doing was phenomenal, but it was growing increasingly difficult to bite your tongue when you so badly needed more from him.
Eventually, his head dropped low enough for his tongue to graze your already sensitive nipple. The warmth of his mouth paired with the precision of his tongue was deadly. You felt a shaky breath rattle your chest as you tried to keep yourself calm, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. You needed him more than you needed anything in your entire life; your body craved him in a way you never knew to be possible, and he had promoted more pleasures than anyone before without even needing to take all of your clothes off.
Something about Jake was otherworldly, and his promises to help you forget were not empty. He was doing exactly as he intended, better than you ever thought he could.
He seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much as you were, completely content with pleasing you and never worrying about his own needs. You had never, in your entire life, met someone who was concerned with your needs first.
He pulled his mouth away from you, his eyes fluttering up to your face as he took a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. His eyes were blackened, his pupils completely consuming his irises as he thought about all of the possibilities the night could have.
“Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, hooking his fingers through the back belt loop on your jeans.
He pulled the fabric away from your skin, letting it snap back to form as he pulled his hand away. The thud of the material against your skin sent another rush of arousal through you, and you found yourself complying to the request without a second thought. He brought one hand to the button, undoing it with ease as he dropped to his knees once again. He pulled down the zipper, tugging on the fabric so they fell down past your hips. As soon as the denim was out of his way, he brought his lips to your stomach, focusing his attention there for a moment before going any further.
You were aching for relief as his tongue drifted over the exposed skin, and you were nearly brought to your knees as he took the time to leave a trail of pink marks where his lips landed. It would be a reminder of the night for days to come, darkening further with time, and you were thrilled at the idea of having a physical memory of his touch when not in his company. He pulled your jeans further down your legs, his lips now ghosting over your hips as he tapped your leg. You lifted one foot from the ground, allowing him to free you from the jeans entirely. You repeated the process with the other leg, and eventually, the jeans were strewn across the floor and gone from your memory completely.
“Jake, I need you.” You huffed, looking down at him, watching carefully where his lips met your skin. He did not respond right away, seemingly wanting to finish what he started before moving on to something new.
Then, his lips pulled away from you, but did not stray too far from their original position. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he comprehended the raw emotion behind your words.
“You need me?” He repeated, his voice husky and his eyes heavy as he bargained with the fact.
“Please,” you whispered, breathless as you tried to recover from the constant stimulation he was providing. “So bad, baby.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he heard the pet name fall from your lips.
“How could I say no to you when you sound so pretty?” He asked, the question without need of an answer. With that, he used his arm to push you towards the foot of the bed, only stopping when the backs of your knees collided with the mattress.
Then, he rose to his feet, finding himself at eye level with you once again. “What do you want me to do, angel?”
“Anything; just touch me, please.” Your voice was weak, his effect still strong over you even though he wasn’t touching you.
“Anything I want?” He asked, stepping closer and bringing his hand to your side again. He let his fingers trail down until they met the hug of the elastic band of your underwear on your hip. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.” You gave a single nod, showcasing your certainty on the matter. He chuckled at your eager nature, looking you over once while he thought of what to do next.
“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” He said, nodding his head towards the bed behind you. “Don’t be shy, get comfortable.” He continued, watching as you turned towards the mattress, unsure if it was possible to climb in and be uncomfortable. The blankets looked soft, and warm, even if they were strewn messily across the surface. The pillows looked like clouds, and there definitely wasn’t a lack of them. More than that, it smelled like him, even from afar. Although you’d only known him for a short time, it had already become a comforting scent for you.
You did as he asked, climbing into the bed and rearranging a few of the pillows. Once you were satisfied, you laid on your back, looking up for him as you awaited further instructions. He gave you a small smile, unable to refute how much he liked the sight of you in his bed, even if it was under strange circumstances.
It was never like Jake to dislike the sight of any girl in his bed, but you seemed to tug on his heart just a little more than others that came before.
“This is a sight I could get used to.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his jeans as he let his eyes trail every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.
“Thought this was a one time thing, Jacob?” He chuckled at your question, unbuttoning the few buttons holding his shirt together. As he slid the fabric from his shoulders, he responded to your inquiries.
“I said if that’s what you want,” he reminded you, dropping the shirt to the floor. Your eyes drifted to his body, drinking in every inch of him. The way the columns of his neck blended perfectly into his collarbones. You studied the structure of his shoulders, focusing intently on his biceps as your eyes trailed down his arms. Then, your gaze moved to his chest, the tan skin decorated with necklaces hanging from his neck. Your admiration ended when your eyes met the buckle of his belt, and you realized he was watching you watch him. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away.” He sent a wink in your direction to follow his words.
His ego was taking up every spare inch of space in the room, and he was completely different than he was when you were sitting with him in the kitchen. The sweetness still lingered underneath the surface, but his desire had turned him wicked and he was doing everything he could to keep you on his hook. You couldn’t find a single complaint about it, because you loved this version of him even more than the kind hearted man who opened his home and his liquor cabinet to you.
“I think I want another drink,” he started, looking at the bottle decorating his nightstand. His gaze flickered back to you, wanting to ensure you were still watching him. “How about you?” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, wishing that he would just go back to touching you. The banter was fun, and you loved talking to him, but you had needs far more pressing than conversing with him. “Don’t look so disappointed, Angel.” He hummed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “I promised to make you feel good, and I’m going to…” he trailed off, popping the cork from the bottle as he kneeled on the bed beside you. “But I have to have my fun, too.”
With that, he brought the spout of the bottle to your navel, carefully letting the trickle of cool liquid fall to your skin. A few droplets trickled down the side of you, landing on the mattress below, but he didn’t care. With great gentleness, he reached out and placed the bottle back on the stand. Without breaking your stare, he settled himself between your legs, his head hovering over your belly as he leaned down a little closer.
With his eyes still settled on your face, he let his tongue glide over your stomach just above your panty line. The skin was already dampened from the spill of liquid from the bottle, cold from the air hitting the wet surface. His tongue warmed the skin, but did much more than just that. The gentleness of his touch cause a plethora of emotions to course through you all at once, and you couldn’t seem to keep your mind straight. The disarray only seemed to worsen as he trailed upwards, drinking up the whiskey like he was a professional on the matter.
When the alcohol was consumed, he did not stop his tyrant. Instead, he continued all the way up until his tongue met your breast once again, circling around your nipple before suctioning his lips to you completely. The warmth and wetness of his mouth was otherworldly, and the new position allowed for his hips to meet yours while he continued teasing you. You shifted down on the mattress, not enough to break his focus, but just enough for your aching core to meet with his cock, strained against his jeans. The contact was minuscule, but enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him.
He used his free hand to hold your hips in place, grinding himself down on you ever so slight to give you a bit of relief. The friction was good, even if it wasn’t enough. Paired with the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive nipple, it was enough to pry a moan from your lips.
“Jake, please touch me. Need it so bad.” You whined, feeling your hips raise from the mattress despite his hand holding you down. He pulled his mouth away from you, a small popping sound ringing through the air as he lost the suction of his cheeks.
“You want me to touch you, beautiful?” He asked, shimmying to the side so he could do as you asked. He brought one hand between your legs, resting beside you on his knees as he held himself up with his other arm. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your aching core, noticing the wetness before he even pushed the fabric to the side. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at his hand. “All of this for me, angel?”
“Just for you, baby.” You whimpered, feeling his finger drift over your covered clit. Although you wished that the barrier did not exist, you would settle for what you could get.
“And what’s got you so worked up? It can’t be me, I’m just getting started.” He teased, pushing the fabric to the side. Before he continued, he waited for you to respond.
“It’s you, Jake.” You assured him, almost sheepish of the fact. He was right, he was just getting started, and you were far too worked up for just a few minutes of foreplay. You couldn’t help it, though; between his sinful touches and your own lack of sexual pleasure over the previous few years, you were ready to come undone before he even touched you.
“Don’t tell me he was that bad of a guy.” Jake let out a murmur of discontent at the thought. “Couldn’t think about anything other than himself, even with a girl as pretty as you in his bed?” Your cheeks burned red at his words, embarrassed at the thought of him being correct. “You know I won’t do that to you, angel.” He promised, finally letting his fingers get a feel for the wetness pooling between your legs. “From here on out, it’s all about you. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Does that sound good to you?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding in agreement with his idea. To you, it sounded more than good. It sounded fantastic.
With that, he gathered your arousal on his fingers, slowly trailing it up to your clit. He traced slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your face so he did not miss a single second of your reaction. Your gaze flickered to his face, taking in all of the details while he did the same for you. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and his lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and his eyes told you just how happy he was to be pleasing you.
“You know, I was hoping to get you in my bed, even before you sat in that chair.” He confessed, his voice quiet as a sheepish smile crossed his face.
“Y-yeah?” You asked, the word breathy as you felt the pull of pleasure begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You were intrigued by his statement, so much so that it took your mind away from the burning desire for a moment.
“Yeah,” he affirmed, smirking at your obvious curiosity. “Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you at Josh’s house.” He continued, carefully letting himself move closer. He propped himself up on his forearm, moving his body down towards yours. “You walked out, all dolled up in a pretty little dress. Blue, if I remember right. I wasn’t really looking at the dress.”
He was right, and you could remember the scene just as well as him. It was the only blue dress you owned, and you were on your way to lunch with a potential client, which was why you were so eager to get out the door. He was carrying his guitar, in a cutoff t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs just right. You were both younger, a little more naive and much more childish. You could remember being stunned by his long brown hair, tousled by the wind, and the sunglasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He was beautiful then, just the same as he was now, but you were too afraid to introduce yourself. You managed a small greeting as you passed by him, and spent the whole drive to the restaurant with the picture of him stuck in your head.
“Been waiting that long, Jacob?” You asked, finding a bit of strength to tease him back.
“I wouldn’t say waiting,” he chuckled. “But definitely thinking about it. Prettiest girl to ever walk out of his house, and the prettiest girl to ever step foot in mine.” He continued with the flattery, sliding his middle and index finger to your entrance. Before he continued, he slipped his fingers inside of you. As he began to pump his fingers, he let his thumb drift over your clit. The combination of the two sensations was overwhelming in the best possible way. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you right there on his porch.” The vulgarity of his words may have been off putting in any other context, but as he said it, your walls fluttered around his fingers and another intense wave of arousal washed over you. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you?”
You were nearly delirious from the pleasure steadily growing in the pit of your stomach. Your skin was ablaze, the sensation growing stronger with every word he spoke and every touch he gave you. You were willing to tell him anything and everything he wanted to hear as long as it meant he wouldn’t stop.
“God, yes. I would have.” You whined, moving your hips down on his hand as his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you.
You weren’t lying, either; had you known at that time he could make you feel so good, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. At the sound of your tone filled with need for him, he made it a point to curl his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you. As his fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot he’d found with ease, a moan filled the air, loud and desperate for him to keep going. “Oh, fuck me.” You groaned, gripping at the sheets below you.
“I intend to, sweetheart.” He replied. Although he knew you did not direct the message to him, he felt the need to interject his own thoughts anyway. As the words left his mouth, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself; he was compelled to kiss you, feeling that he might not be able to survive without the taste of you on his tongue.
His fingers continued to move with intent, eager to pry an orgasm from you. The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, your skin tingling with pleasure as another moan tore through your chest. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, feeling lucky to be the one experiencing such intimacy with you, even if it was under strange circumstances.
He broke from the kiss as he felt your walls clench around him again, knowing that you were closer to a climax than you would ever admit. He increased the pressure of his thumb, watching you carefully so he did not miss the moment he’d been patiently waiting for.
“That’s it, gorgeous.” He crooned, drunk of the pleasure twisted amongst your features. The praise washed over you like summer rain, settling deep in your stomach and furthering the intensity of the feeling. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the most beautiful sounds to cross them. “You’re so fucking hot.” He muttered, propping himself up a bit further for a better view. As much as he wanted to focus on your face, he felt his eyes trail down to his hand, unable to resist the only other sight that could compare to your pretty face.
He sucked his bottom teeth between his lips, biting down on it as he watched his fingers disappear into your cunt.
Your eyes cracked open, desperate to catch a glimpse of him before you descended into the organ that was quickly approaching. When you caught sight of his face, you noticed his eyes were not looking at you like they had been moments before. When you followed his gaze, seeing what he was so fixated on, you felt a whole different type of emotion wash over you. He did not notice your stare, too caught up in the sight to even care about anything else. You were enthralled in him, watching him admire you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.
You bit down on your lip, feeling the warmth in your stomach begin to spread to the rest of your body. You were so close, so ready to give in to the temptation of the feeling, but you weren’t ready for the moment to come to an end.
Within a second, that train of thought was completely disregarded, unimportant and needless.
A low groan, resembling more like a growl sounded through the room, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes turned dark, almost animalistic as he was taken by his desire for you. It was a simple thing, so unimportant in comparison to everything else he was doing to you, but it was everything to you. To know you could drive such a beautiful man to such desperate feelings made you weak, and knowing he was just as taken by you as you were with him sent you over the edge.
The orgasm that took hold was stronger than any you had ever had before. Your entire body was immersed in euphoria, from the very tips of your toes to the muscles in your face. Not one part of you was spared from his wicked power, and as your legs trembled, you came to terms with the fact he was right; heartbroken or not, you were hooked on him. Walking away would be ridiculous, and coming back for more was a given. You could not comprehend the idea of never feeling such a way again, and that made it all the harder to equate your solution for heartbreak to a single night.
“That’s it, angel. Doing so good for me.” His words seemed far away, but the sentiment behind them stuck with you indefinitely. He continued pumping his fingers into you, coaxing you through the climax with his hand and his words. You had never felt more important, more cared about than you did with him, like your enjoyment was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He pulled his fingers out of you, his gaze flickering to your face as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched as he slipped his middle finger past his lips, glistening with your release as it landed on his tongue and his mouth closed around it. As the taste filled his senses, his eyes fluttered closed and a low groan rattled his chest. Your face flushed, your stomach pulling with another bout of pleasure as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. He pulled his finger from his mouth, a slight popping sound filling your ears as the digit slid off his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, the sight nearly pornographic, and hotter than anything you had ever witnessed before.
“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. Just like I thought you would.” His words were soft, gentle as they filled the air around you. You couldn’t look at him, fearful that if you caught his eye, you would descend into another orgasm without him even touching you at all.
Your knuckles ached as you released your iron grip on the sheets, your body relaxing against the mattress as you came down from the high. Your lungs ached for a full breath of air, and your skin was still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You looked down at Jake, expecting him to be watching you, waiting for your next move, but he was doing none of those things. He was tossing his belt to the floor, sliding out of his jeans and boxers at once and tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You noticed his frantic nature, taking a second to discard your underwear and toss them to the floor as well. He didn’t say a word, making a move to shift downwards on the mattress. He settled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he pulled you down towards his face.
He guided your legs over his shoulders, settling his palms on the tops of your thighs as his lips dusted light kisses over the inside of them. As you both grew more comfortable with the new position, you felt his confidence grow, too. His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, his tongue following the path to sooth any irritation that might occur. Goosebumps littered your entire body, and every nerve was aflame with desire for the boy who made home between your legs. You watched him, a wondrous sparkle in your eye as you inspected his every move.
Was it normal for someone to be this attentive, to be so concerned with making you feel good? Had you been missing out on such a fantastic experience, wasting your time with someone who was only concerned with himself? Or was Jake just so phenomenal that he made everything a million times more fun?
You did not know, and you did not care; the only important thing to you was him, and he was doing well in making you forget about all of your other worldly troubles. The only thoughts in your mind were pertaining to him and his ability to please you. He was like poison, infiltrating every thought and every emotion, completely taking over without you even thinking twice about it.
His eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours in a silent inquiry. The trail of love bites on your thigh was darkening by the second, and his gaze was burning into you.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He ordered, but it was hard to comply to his wishes when it felt like his fingers were searing into your skin.
“I-I just… sex has never been like this before.” You breathed, wondering how he knew something was wrong despite you not saying a word. He was effortlessly in tune with you, feeling every emotion coursing through you as if it were his own. “It’s never been so good, and I’ve never been so… taken care of.” You squeaked out the last few words, embarrassed to admit it to him.
“Oh, don’t tell me that, angel.” He muttered, almost pained at the thought. “If I had known he wasn’t taking care of you, I would have done it myself, a long time ago.” The sincerity in his tone made your head spin, and you were almost regretful that you had been so caught up on a man who wasn’t worth your time, when you could have been spending your time indulging in someone like Jake. “You mean to tell me he wasn’t doing this?” He asked, obviously referring to the act he was about to commit. Your cheeks burned red as you shook your head, silently answering him. “What a fucking idiot.” He muttered, clearly to himself.
Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulled your hips down a little further, letting his actions speak louder than his words. He lowered his head, and you held your breath as his mouth connected with your core. His tongue slowly ran through your folds, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. He let his focus remain there for a moment, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as your hands snaked down your body, tangling themselves in the long locks of his hair. Your felt his tongue dip down to your entrance again, flattening against you as he repeated the same process from earlier, savouring every drop of arousal you had to offer him.
As his tongue reached your clit again, he let out a long hum of satisfaction, like the moment had curbed every craving he had for you in an instant. He pulled away from you for a moment, looking up as he listened closely to your shallow breathing. “I could stay between your legs for the rest of my life, and I’d be fucking happy to do it.” He said, his tone gruff as some residual anger remained in his mind. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me.”
A whimper fell from your lips, completely uncontrollable as you tried to sear the memory of him between your legs into your brain for eternity. He returned his mouth to you, using the sound as encouragement while he continued on with his work.
Jake was a force you were not familiar with, yet you feared you may never fully grasp his power. You met him at the perfect time, and he offered his services when you needed them most. It was supposed to be a quick fix, a simple solution to stop the pain from tearing you in two, but it quickly grew into something much more than that. Now that you had a chance to experience pleasure at his hands, you weren’t ready to give it up.
Calling Jake a rebound would be ridiculous, because he was the furthest thing from it; in just an hour, he gave more to you than your ex did in years.
Like you said earlier, you were mourning the situation more than you were mourning the person or the relationship itself. The picture of betrayal had been seared in your mind, the self-doubt and self-hatred was abundant, and maybe there was a hint of sadness over the loss of routine, but most of your ailments were not caused by the man himself. With Jake’s help, that became incredibly apparent, and the rest of the sadness and anger seemed to fade away the longer his hands were on you.
“A-ah, fuck.” You hissed, your fingers tightening in his hair as an intense wave of pleasure took hold. “Feels so good, Jake.” Instead of pulling away to respond, he hummed against you, the vibration of the sound furthering the sensation he was already giving you. He wanted to hear how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel. His ego hadn’t gone away, and your compliments only fed it further. You would be uncomfortable with his cockiness if it were not warranted, but from everything he’d done so far, you understood that he was the only man you had been with who had a right to be so self-assured.
His hands inched up your legs, his grip loosening as he moved his fingers. The light tickle sent a shiver down your spine, and your head was spinning as his grasp slowly settled on your hips. His tongue continued to circle around your clit as he pulled you a little further down on his face. A moan filled the air, much more desperate than the last and the vulgarity immediately categorizing it as pornography. You weren’t sure if such a sound ever left your lips before, but you did not have time to focus on the fact before another one followed up the last.
Your cheeks were burning to the touch, your skin blotchy with redness and glistening with sweat. Your hands were anchored in the roots of his hair, and his tongue was driving you so crazy that you couldn’t help the automatic roll of your hips against his tongue. You were bordering the edge once again, and he seemed to have no intent to slow. One of his hands remained on your hip as the other began to explore, dusting over your stomach with great gentleness. It was a staggering difference between the hand on your hip, which was holding you tightly, as if he was scared he would lose you if he let go.
You were lost in the movements of his tongue, no other thoughts existing within your mind as he continued with his precise actions. The warmth of his mouth was heavenly, the wetness of his tongue making every move all the more remarkable. His hand raised to your chest, finally finding what he had been blindly searching for as his palm cupped your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back onto the pillow as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Then, his fingers found your nipple, brushing over it and sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sensation combined with the feeling of his tongue was indescribable, addicting, and intoxicating. You felt drunk off of him alone, and you never wanted to sober up.
Just when you thought you were accustom to the multiple sensations all at once, he moved his hand, taking your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and giving one hard pinch. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking forward into his mouth even further. You could see the shake of his shoulders, showcasing his silent laughter at your reaction.
Even if you wanted to be upset at him, you had no idea how to be. Being angry with Jake seemed like an oxymoron, two things that could not coexist together. If anything, all you wanted to do was praise him for all he had done to help you.
He retracted his hand from your chest, snaking it back down your body. He brought it underneath your leg, bringing his middle and ring finger to your entrance. He pushed them inside of you, with the same curl to his fingers as earlier. The added stimulation was heavenly, and a sure apology for his earlier action. He barely had to pump his fingers at all before your back was arching off the mattress, desperate and shameless for more.
“Jake, baby.” You warned, the words coming out hastily and jumbled together. “M’gonna cum.” You forced the rest of the sentence out, the fire in your belly blazing and threatening to take hold.
He hummed against you again, encouraging you to give in and let go. With one last curl of his fingers paired with the flick of his tongue, your second orgasm took over. Your legs trembled with the intensity of the feeling, your hands holding his hair as if you were afraid of floating away if you let go. The air was filled with obscenities, curses and praise for his work as you descended into the pleasure. If his mouth wasn’t occupied, you knew the praises and encouragement would be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. He coaxed you through the moment, and your heart rate began to slow and your muscles started to relax from the tension.
Difference was, this time he didn’t slow.
His tongue continued to trace your clit with more intent than before, as if he wanted to see how far he could take it before you gave in. At first, the feeling was uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping was more troublesome than the sting of overstimulation. Instinctively, your body tried to pull away from him, but he used his hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your hands remained in his hair, but did not try and pull his head away from you. You wanted him, and the orgasm he had just given you was inexplicably addictive. You wanted to feel that way again so bad that you could spare the few moments of discomfort in exchange for something so fantastic.
The noises falling from your lips had upped in intensity, and definitely felt more dramatic. You were loud enough that you feared the neighbours might hear you had they stepped outside. He was living in the moment, driven near insane from the desperation in your voice. You looked down, and despite your blurred vision, did the best you could to admire him while you had him like such. His hair was a mess, still knotted around your fingers. The muscles in his back were tight, flexing with every move of his arms. His knuckles were locked in place around your hip, decorating it so nicely that you dreaded the moment he had to let go.
Although beautiful, those were not the things that held your attention. Instead, you were drawn in by the sight of his hips grinding into the mattress below. Pleasing you had worked him up so badly that he himself was aching for relief, unable to control how badly he needed to be touched. The thought was maddening, and the sight drove you over the edge.
Before the overstimulation even began to wear off, your body was forced into another climax that put the previous ones to shame. Your throat was raw from crying his name, your entire body aching from the violence of the feeling. For a moment, you thought you might die at the hands of his sin, but not even that thought could force you away from him. Your lungs burned and your head swam with thoughts of nothing and everything, all at once.
You had never felt such a way in your entire existence, and even when your body began to recover from the effects of his tongue, your mind had fallen far behind. You were barely holding on to reality as he finally withdrew his fingers from you, and your head was completely elsewhere when his head moved away, too.
“Could listen to you scream my name like that every fucking night.” He growled, pressing his wet lips to your thighs so he did not have to give up contact with you entirely. “God you’re a fucking masterpiece. Can’t believe it took so long for me to have you like this.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead wiping away your release from his chin and moving upwards so he could kiss you. As his hips landed on yours, you felt his cock press against your soaking core, the warmth of bare skin against skin nearly driving you into another orgasm. You were floored at his ability to make you feel good, and amazed that nobody else could make you feel such things. As his tongue glided across yours, you could taste yourself on him, only making the moment even more remarkable. It made him even more addicting, and you were certain you could get used to having him in such a way.
“Just a second, sweetheart.” He slurred, drunk off of you. He pulled away from you, sliding out from between your legs and climbing out of bed. You watched him, breathless and stunned at the picture of him completely naked in front of you. It was the first moment thus far that you had the chance to admire him fully, and you never wanted to stop.
He was painfully hard, the tip of his dick red with irritation from the rough threads of the sheets and glistening with wetness from where he was resting against you. The sight sent you mad, your mouth watering and your need for him growing tenfold. He turned to his bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer in search of a condom. When his fingers landed on the box, stuffed way in the back and hidden under a pile of junk. He looked over at you, smiling shyly as he pulled one from the box.
“Don’t really need these all that often.” He chuckled, an inadvertent way of telling you he was being truthful when he said you were the only one he offered his services to.
“Wait,” you uttered, watching as he raised the package to his mouth to tear it with his teeth. He froze in place, worried that you might have changed your mind.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, ready to discard the foil square in his hand and dress himself if you were uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop, or slow down?”
“No!” You shook your head, feeling bad that the thought even crossed his mind. Instead of letting his anxiety get the best of him, you sat up from your laying position. Carefully, ensuring you had your balance, you shifted so you were resting on your knees, facing him. You looked up, giving a small smile as you beckoned him closer. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he stepped towards you anyway.
Only when you reached out for him did he understand your intentions. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching as you grabbed his hand and guided him closer to the edge of the bed.
“Tonight is supposed to be about you, angel.” He muttered, a weak protest against your actions.
“I want to, Jake.” You assured him, unable to refute your desire to please him, too. “Please?” You looked up at him, doe-eyed with faux innocence written over your features.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, unable to resist the temptation. “I had no idea you were such a whore.” Even if his words were venomous, his tone did not match. He had such a way with words that even his insults sounded like praise. “Go ahead then, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.”
You debated thanking him for his kindness, but you opted to do it with your actions, instead. You leaned toward, bringing your mouth to him. You parted your lips slightly, letting your tongue glide over the head of his cock. The saltiness of the pre-cum staining his skin lingered on your lips as you took him in your mouth. You bobbed your head down slowly, allowing spit to accumulate on your tongue as you let it glide over the underside of his cock.
As you moved your head down on him, your eyes fluttered closed in concentration. His size was something you weren’t used to, but you had enough confidence to follow through with your efforts. When you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watered as you fought back a gag. Desperate to impress, you relaxed your throat as you took him all the way. You felt him twitch in your mouth, letting you know that he was enjoying the moment just as much as you hoped. A string of curses fell from his lips, followed by a long groan. The sound only worsened the persistent ache between your legs, but you carried on, knowing that he would take care of that once you took care of him.
He raised his hand to your hair, gathering it in his hand and holding it away from your face. His eyes were permanently fixated on you, terrified of missing even a second of the view in front of him. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to grow comfortable with the feeling before forcing yourself to swallow, despite the momentary discomfort. As your throat constricted around him, he took in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. Another groan tried to force it’s way from his chest, but he tried to hold it back, resulting in the sound coming out more similar to a whine.
Even if it was unintentional, it drove you fucking crazy.
You pulled back in one swift motion, inhaling a breath of air as his cock fell from your lips. Trails of spit covered your chin, but it did not phase you. Before he could recover from the loss, your mouth was on him again.
“Ah, fuck, sweetheart.” He growled, his grip in your hair tightening. “Full of fucking surprises tonight.” Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare as you bobbed your head down on him. You longed to sear the picture in your mind forever. His hair was disheveled, his jaw-hard set and his eyes crazed as he studied your every move. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were certain of that. You felt lucky to be able to please him in any way, and grateful to have caught his eye all those years ago.
As you drew your head upward, you let his cock leave your mouth completely, deciding to give him a show. You circled your tongue around his tip, pursing your lips as you placed them on the side of his dick. You pushed your tongue flat against him, suctioning your cheeks just a bit to add some pressure. As you moved your mouth down his cock, you made sure to keep eye contact with him the whole time. When you reached the base, you slowly ran your tongue over him as you brought your head back to the tip. Without breaking the momentum, you took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back down until his tip hit the back of your throat again.
You started a steady pace, listening intently to every sound that passed his lips. It wear encouraging, and it was hot. If you had to say, it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard. As you felt him slide down your throat again, you let out a moan. The vibration amplified the already intense feeling, causing his head to fall back on his shoulders as he hissed out a long string of curses. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release but unwilling to give in to it just yet.
In truth, you would not have minded. He had been beyond generous already, and to do him a kindness was the only way you thought fitting to repay him. Even if you would miss out on fucking him, you were happy to be used by him in any way.
As you continued at the same pace, you could feel him begin to lose himself to the pleasure. As your head came down on him, his hips involuntarily moved too meet with you. The constant pressure in the back of your throat was making it difficult to keep calm, but you persevered until he pulled away first. A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sent you over the edge, and the gag you tried so hard to stop finally forced its way out. Your throat constricted around him again and your eyes welled with tears. Hastily, he pulled away from you, his chest heaving as his concerned eyes looked over your face.
“M’sorry, angel. You okay?” He asked, crouching down so he was eye level with you.
“Yeah, I’m good, it’s okay.” You promised, nodding you head. He raised his hand to your cheek, swiping away tears that had fallen from your eyes.
“We can take a break if you need it,” he assured you, holding your gaze. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much.”
“I’m okay, I promise.” You gave him a soft smile, well recovered from the moment of slight tension. He watched you for a moment longer, wanting to be certain. When he realized you weren’t going to change your mind, he leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. The softness of the action was all you needed to feel better again. “Can you fuck me? Please?” You muttered the words against his lips, unable to wait until he was finished to ask the question.
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked, intrigued by your excitement.
“Yes, please.” You breathed, needing it like you needed air. The desire you had for him was nearly debilitating, and since he’d stopped touching you, there was no relief for the grating need.
“Turn around for me, Angel.” He said, rising to his feet. He was in no position to deny you anything, because he wanted it just as bad.
You did as he asked, noticing he was reaching for the foil wrapper on the nightstand again. You couldn’t comprehend the grief that washed over you as you saw it, and the words rushed out faster than you could stop them.
“I’m on the pill,” you said, hearing him freeze in place. “I’m clean, too.” You were telling the truth, because before him, unprotected sex wasn’t even a thought in your mind. Whatever he had done to you that night seemed to permanently alter your mind, and the simple thought of not having him completely was sickening.
“Me too.” He hummed, almost relieved that you told him. He tossed the condom back on the table, the dull clatter of the impact prompted a smile on your face.
You backed up closer to him, your knees resting near the edge of the mattress and your feet dangling off the edge. He stepped towards you, his hands reaching for your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch drifted over your ass, appreciating you while he had you in such a way.
“You have no fucking idea how good you look like this.” He praised your beauty, his voice deep and laced with desire. One of his hand fell from your hip, and seconds later, you felt his cock rest against your cunt. Slowly, he ran the tip through the wetness that was worsening by the second. “You want it, sweetheart?” The husky tone settled deep in your bones as you dropped to your forearms, bringing your top half lower to the mattress. You pushed your hips back towards him, adding a little more pressure to your clit, which he was resting against.
“So bad, Jake.” You pleaded, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“What was that, Angel?” He asked, sliding himself back down to your entrance. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” There was a smirk on his lips, cute enough to help him get away with the teasing, but irritating enough to bother you.
“Please, baby.” You whined, trying again.
“Please what?” He pressed further, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly. The miniscule change was agonizing, but it still made your head spin. “I want to hear how bad you want me, beautiful.”
“Please fuck me, Jake.” You finished your broken sentence, your tone stronger than it had been all night. “I need to feel you, please.” With that, you pushed your hips back again, testing your limits.
Unlucky for you, at the same time, he thrusted forward with force, causing the impact to be so much more intense.
“A-ah, fuck!” You yelped, the size of him something brand new to you. The way he filled you was enough to bring you to your knees, but the painful sensation of his cock hitting your cervix amplified the pleasure even further.
“There you go, baby.” He crooned, completely disregarding your response as he drew his hips back and slammed back into you with the same energy. “How does that feel?” The slight sneer in his tone was aggravating, but you had to admit that it looked really good on him. The sudden change in attitude made you realize that what had come before that moment was not typical for Jake. He was snarky, arrogant, and he liked to be in charge. You could tell by his fingers bruising your hips and his tone talking down to you.
Although you thoroughly enjoyed the time you already spent with Jake, it almost made you sad when you realized what exactly you missed out on.
As you were stuck on the thought, you felt a sharp sting across your ass. The sensation on your skin combined with the pleasure of him inside of you, making you quiver under the touch. “Answer me when I fucking speak.” He barked, letting his fingers gently caressed the reddening skin where his hand made contact. You weren’t sure if it was purposeful or absentminded, but the sweet touch after the harsh words felt good, reassuring that he was only putting on an act.
Then, you decided if he wanted to push you, you could do the same to him. The worst that could happen was a punishment, and the idea of punishment at Jake’s hands was nothing but thrilling.
“Feels so good, sir.” You exaggerated your tone in hopes of getting under his skin, but the term of endearment seemed to short circuit his brain. His hips stuttered and his hands tightened their grip.
“Such a fucking whore,” he spat, his words quiet as he regained his composure. Even if his words were harsh, you could tell by his voice alone how much he enjoyed your attitude. “I love it.” He muttered the words to himself, but you heard it despite his efforts to keep it to himself. He felt your walls flutter around him, drawing him in further and deeper, encouraging his antics even further.
One of his hands raised to your hair, gathering it in his fist and knotting it around his hand. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back ever so slightly as his hips continued at the same, bruising pace. You arched your back even further, your chest nearly brushing against the mattress now as your ass raised to meet his hips.
“That’s my girl,” he hummed, holding your hips as he upped the strength in which he was thrusting into you. “Take it so fucking good.”
The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, threatening to snap with every move. You were crying his name, praising him for his hard work as he pushed you closer to a climax. You were sure his bedroom would never recover from the pornographic display the two of you found yourselves in, and the thought served as a comfort. You wanted him to think about you every time his bedroom door closed, remembering how you looked in his bed as he fucked you from behind. You wanted him to picture the way your ass met his hips every time he closed his eyes, and you never wanted him to forget the feeling of you wrapped around him.
Although he intended to solve your problems, you wanted to create a new, constant one for him; one that plagued him every night and haunting him during the day. You wanted Jake to succumb to the need of you, and you wanted your number to be a constant call in his phone, begging you to come over so he could curb the urge for a little while. You wanted to infiltrate every thought that crossed his mind, because you could not stand the idea of him giving this to anyone else.
“You want to cum already?” He asked, recognizing the tremble of your legs and the desperation of your high-pitched moans. “So fucking needy you can’t even enjoy it for a while?” He chastised you, but both of you knew there was zero malice behind his behavior. He was living for the way you moved against him, surviving off the sound of your pleasure. He was thrilled to drive you to such a state so easily, and he would give you whatever you wanted, so long as you asked nicely.
“Please, sir. I want it so bad. I need it.” You stressed the importance of the topic, feeling the burn begin to overtake your entire body. The urge was impossible to stave off, and you knew there was no use in trying. After all he’d done to you so far, you were long past self-control.
“Fine, but you better not hold back. I want to hear every one of those filthy fucking noises.” He growled, pulling your head back with a little bit of force. “Put on a good show, sweetheart, or I might not be so nice next time.” He warned, holding your head in place with one hand and your hip with his other. He pulled you back on him, making the impact even more powerful. The painful pleasure pulsed through your entire body, so intense that you could feel it behind your eyes. With every thrust of his hips, you grew closer to the release you so desperately needed.
In exchange for him giving you what you needed, you gave him exactly what he asked for.
“Oh, god, Jake.” You whined, upping the dramatics for the sake of his request. “You feel so good, baby. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your head spin with the threat of your climax. You could hear his shaky breaths, the sound of your words hitting him harder than he anticipated. His hips remained steady, though, never faltering as he continued on exactly as you asked him to.
“Come on, angel.” He huffed, looking down at the curve of your ass, watching himself as he fucked into you. The permissive statement sent you spiralling, pushing you over the edge with little thought.
“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, feeling your stomach burn with pleasure. Your hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. Your arms and legs felt like they would give out from under you as they trembled. Jake seemed to notice the same thing, and the hand holding your hip slipped under you, holding you up so you did not have to worry about anything other than feeling good.
“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” He crooned, never letting up on his pace as he continued to fuck you through the climax. Even as you came down, your body did not relax. Your skin was ablaze and your forehead was glistening with sweat. You were tired, and the feeling of him inside of you became less pleasant and more intense as he continued to thrust into you. Your noises became less angelic and more desperate, as if they served as a warning for him to slow down. Overstimulation was threatening your exhausted mind, driving you closer to insanity by the second as the burn of irritation began to spread.
“Jake,” You wheezed his name out, trying to bargain with him as he increased the speed of his hips. “Jake, please.” You pleaded, now for an entirely different reason.
“What, you wanted it so bad and now you can’t take it?” He growled, his hips still moving at a relentless pace. “You can take it sweetheart, I know you can. Be good for me, baby. Just a little longer.”
“I don’t know if I can.” You cried, your throat raw from the desperation of your moans. Both of you knew he would stop if you really needed it, but he would be damned if he gave up before you truly needed him to.
“You can, beautiful. Being so good for me.” He rushed out, clearly growing close to his own climax. “Don’t you love being a good girl for me?” He asked, easing up on you ever so slightly.
“I do,” you whimpered, feeling his hand in your hair push your head towards the mattress. The strength of his thrusts had lessened, and the overwhelming sensation started to become pleasurable again. “I love it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” He whispered, desperation beginning to set in for him, too. He loosened his hold around your hips, knowing you were much steadier, now. He moved his hand between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit with ease. “Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, his words giving you the strength to keep going. You clenched around him, amplifying the sensation for both of you as his finger continued to trace around your clit.
“So fucking tight.” He praised, saying it mostly to himself. “Give me one more angel. I know you have it in you.” He was right, the orgasm was already building at a rapid pace. You could feel the tingle of euphoria in the tips of your fingers and toes. You were too strung out on him to answer, but he knew that you would give him what he wanted.
Nobody in their right mind would ever deny Jake anything he asked for, anyway.
“Jake, fuck, m’gonna cum.” You rushed out, the urgency something you had never experienced before in your life. He let out a low chuckle at your state despite feeling the same desperation.
“That’s my girl.” He said again, the statement still hitting as hard as it did the first time he said it. With one last thrust of his hips, you came undone, all of the pleasure from the night coming to one final climax.
Your mind was blank, no thoughts or worries left to bother you. You wanted to scream his name, but nothing was coming out. Your chest ached and your lungs were in dire need of air, but you could not even seem to do something as simple as breathing. Jakes hand pushed your head further into the mattress, your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the sheets as he started to lose his composure, too. His movements were sloppy, his hips stuttering every time he fucked into you. The finger that was once tracing perfect circles on your clit seemed to forget how to do so, and he had his turn to utter profanities that only solidified the moment in your minds forever.
His grip on your hair loosened as he reached his peak, spilling his release inside you as his hips began to slow. He used his arm to pull you back on him one last time, holding you there while he recovered from the intensity of the moment. He let out a long breath, looking down once more where his hips rested against yours. He drew back, slowly thrusting forward a few more times as he fucked his release back into you. A low growl sounded from his chest, the sight alone nearly working him up all over again.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his loving and catering tone returning as he withdrew from you completely.
“Yeah, m’okay.” You nodded, feeling the pressure in your skull lessen as he loosened his hold on your hair. “Fantastic, actually.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, excited at the idea. “You feel better?”
“Jake, you have no idea.” You breathed, slowly moving from your position. You were sore, tired, but you felt better than you ever had. “I don’t think I’ve ever… no, I’ve never had sex like that.” You confessed, rolling on to your back to let your body rest for a moment.
“I’m glad I could help, beautiful.” He said, laying down beside you. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later.” He said, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warm and soothing as the sound of his heartbeat thudded in your ears.
“I should probably call a cab, get back to Josh’s place before the bar rush starts.” You sighed, saddened by the thought alone. You wished to stay wrapped up in Jake’s arms for the rest of the night, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You were going through a breakup, and dating was not on the table (or shouldn’t be, at least), but there was something special about Jake, something so different that it made it impossible to want to walk away from him.
“Are you crazy?” He scoffed, his tone light as he looked down at you.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up as you awaited an answer.
“Like I’d ever make you take a cab.” He rolled his eyes. “But, you’re not going back to Josh’s place, sweetheart.”
“What if I want to?” You shot back.
“Do you?” He asked, seemingly staring into your soul. You bit the inside of your lip, fighting back a smile as you gave a small shake of your head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll just tell him we drank a little too much and you crashed in the spare room.” Your stomach sank at the thought of a spare room, but he could see it in your eyes before you had the chance to address it. “You’re not actually staying in the spare room, gorgeous.”
“Okay, good.” You breathed, chuckling at your own stupidity. “‘Cause I’d much rather stay here, with you.”
“That was never even a question.” He assured you, letting his fingers gently trail over your back. The light tickle was addicting, comforting and soft. It was exactly what you needed after such a high energy evening. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He said the second part, quieter this time, but you could still sense the truth behind his words.
“No?” You giggled, smiling up at his pretty face.
“Mmm,” he hummed to himself, the sound vibrating his chest. He seemed like he was thinking about all of the possibilities the night held, everything he could do with you (or to you, for that matter), and more importantly, what positions he could put you in. “No, definitely not.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You let out a sigh of content, already dreaming of the same things. A silence fell between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. With Jake, it never was. After a while, you felt the urge to speak again, to show your gratitude for his kindness. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.” You whispered. “It really helped.” His lips quirked into a smile as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.” He muttered, his lips still pressed against your hair. “And please, if you ever need help forgetting about anything at all, just give me a call. I’d love to help you out.”
646 notes · View notes
love-belle · 1 year
Text
you got me thinking nonsense !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which heartbreak led to her real love and she'd be damned if she didn't make sure everyone knows that.
or
for when they're everything to you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
prequel - light as a feather ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - posting this i simply couldn't resist!!! i'll try my HARDEST to post carlos' version of shout out to my ex tonight but if not then tomorrow fs <3 thank u so much for reading, i love u <3
taglist - @marsdreamworld @eviethetheatrefreak @22yuki @incoherenciass @bb-swift @willowpains @lordperceval-16 (tagging all those who asked for part ii <3)
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by pierregasly, f1updates, exwagsclub and 79,726 others
paddock.club y/n y/l/n and charles leclerc spark dating rumours as they were seen out on a "date", which were further confirmed as the couple shared a kiss. for weeks, y/l/n and leclerc have been having coy and not-so-platonic interactions on social media and fans have speculated that these two are more just friends. this news comes after y/n's break up with a fellow driver of charles and while neither y/n or her ex have commented on this, it's clear that they didn't have a clean break up as there were rumours of cheating surrounding the ex. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
tagged charles_leclerc yourusername
589 comments
username LMFAOAOOA THE WAY LANDO ISN'T EVEN MENTIONED HERE
username "the ex" ur so right he's not worth mentioning 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
username olivia was talking abt lando when she sang "some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning"
*liked by oliviarodrigo*
username my true parents fr ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username she looks sooo happy with him im so happy for her
username love how none of yes are surprised like we all saw this coming
username the way l*ndo isn't even mentioned ONCE like that's what u get for cheating babes!!!!!!!!!
username CHARLES AND Y/N FUCK YEA
username she genuinely looks so much happier with charles like this is the type of relationship she deserved ❤️
username IM ❤️ SO ❤️ HAPPY ❤️ FOR ❤️ THEM ❤️
username no bc there was no way they thought that they'd be able to convince us that they weren't together
username istg i see one person comment some out of pocket shit im SWINGING
username l*ndo's crying rn like i can Feel it
username no bc HOW'D he pull 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username fr like u put him near y/n he starts malfunctioning
-> username no bc that one interview where he forgot his own team's name js bc y/n walked past him is LIVING proof
username i know the driver's gc is WILDIN rn
username see now idk who to be jealous of
-> username the only correct answer is both
username no bc IMAGINE THE SONGS SHE'LL WRITE ABOUT HIM!!!!!!
username pretty people (y/n and charles) ruining it for the ugly people (me) by getting together
username oh so he got GAME
username everyone bffr y/n was probably the one who took the initiative
username guys stop with all the l*ndo slander comments i can't like them all
username charles leclerc i will never forgive u for taking my wife
username im sooooOOOOooo normal about this. ha fucking ha.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,792,712 others
yourusername nonsense is now yours!!! i wrote this song on my very close friend's bedroom's floor and i can officially say that this is the most unhinged song i have ever written :) i love u all sooo much i could cry <3 (charles_leclerc be my personal photographer pls ❤️)
15,628 comments
username HELLO?????? PLEASE IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS SONG AND WHY IS IT MAKING ME CRY AND HORNY
username IM TALKIN OPPOSITE OF SOFT?????? Y/N?????????
username nah she's unhinged
username "on my very close friend's bedroom's floor" BABE WE KNOW
username how quickly can u take ur clothes off pop quiz 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔
-> username oh she's wild for adding this
username IN LOVE WITH THE OUTRO
username PLEASE touch some grass and meditate
georgerussell63 wish i never heard it but cool beats x
-> yourusername i too wish u never heard it but thank u russell george x
username i know sebastian texted her after this
*liked by yourusername*
username okayyyy so at least he's winning off the track
-> username OH UR SO WRONG FOR THIS
username at least my girl's getting some good dick y'all leave her alone
username im a changed woman after hearing this song
username u gotta keep up with me!!!!! i got some young energy!!!!!!! i caught the l-o-v-e!!!! why do u do this to me!!!!!!!
username i know charles is blasting the SHIT out of this sin anthem (encouraging)
-> username PLEASE NOT SIN ANTHEM
lilymhe when will you write a song like this about me :/
-> yourusername if u would like i can show u????
-> lilymhe i'm On my way!
-> alex_albon STOP I'M STILL HERE
-> yourusername alex look away
-> charles_leclerc i'm
-> yourusername u too babe look AWAY
-> username BABE
-> username DID SHE JS CONFIRM IT FR FR
username said u like my eyes????? AND u like to make them roll??????
-> username if someone said that to me i would be AT the altar in most white dress ever
username charles won at life fr
username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABT HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS IN THESE PHOTOS
-> username my heart stopped she's so barbie coded
charles_leclerc nice song
-> yourusername thank u
charles_leclerc any particular muse behind this?
-> yourusername js this cool guy i've been seeing
-> charles_leclerc "cool" huh? 😏😏😏😏🤪🤪🤪🤪🤗🤗🤗🤗🫡🫡🫡🫡🥶🥶🥶🥶😩😩😩😩🤧🤧🤧🤧☺️☺️☺️☺️😘😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰🥰😚😚😚😚
-> yourusername yes charles u are cool
-> username MY GOD SOMEONE TAKE AWAY THIS MAN'S PHONE
-> username y/n be honest does he blush and giggle when u call him a pet name????
-> yourusername what do u think
-> username I KNEW IT OMG
charles_leclerc if the person in front of the camera is you, i will gladly be behind the camera for the rest of my life.
-> yourusername the most romantic thing u have ever said to me
-> charles_leclerc that's not true
-> yourusername u called me a chameleon yesterday
-> charles_leclerc because you wear a different shade of eye colour everyday
-> yourusername eye shadow* baby
-> charles_leclerc okay :D
-> username WHO IS THIS MAN
-> username nah he's GONE for her
≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 1,538,976 others
charles_leclerc she wrote a song for me and while it wasn't the most romantic one, the sentiment is still appreciated. y/n, i adore you completely, even if you spend more time with my mom than you do with me. mon cœur ❤️ ( my heart )
tagged yourusername
12,629 comments
username im
username js gonna leave yeah (ABSHDHDJSJJSSJ)
username what do u MEAN charles is in love and what do u MEAN that it's not with me (i love them both sm)
username okayyyy she wrote how much she loves u and ur little thing that's the MOST romantic thing ever
-> username nah bestie given the way she wrote the song im not it's *little*
*liked by yourusername*
-> username GIRL PLEASE WHY ARE U LURKING
username i love them both so much
carlossainz55 you two make me nauseous but it's been a long time coming 🤍 happy for you both !!
-> charles_leclerc thank you for your approval <3
-> carlossainz55 had to make sure you'd treat her better 🤷
-> username "treat her better" is speaking VOLUMES
-> username i love carlos so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username y/n being the grid's favourite is my aesthetic 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
username I LOVE THEM SOOO MUCH THEY'RE MY PARENTS LIKE AJSJSKSKSJKSKKS
username "mon cœur" can u hear me SCREAMING 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username they genuinely deserve all the happy things in life like im SO fr
username ferrari better get their shit in order bc i know that if they fuck up again y/n is fr gonna destroy them and idk if that's gonna be by words or by a song or she's straight up gonna fist fight them
*liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and carlossainz55*
danielricciardo at least she writes you songs, she writes me threatening messages
-> yourusername U CALLED ME THAT MCDONALD'S CLOWN
-> charles_leclerc i'm not gonna intervene
-> danielricciardo BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE
-> yourusername THAT'S JS CHARLES NOT ME
-> charles_leclerc i am going to intervene
username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ about them
username i just fell to the floor what the fuck
username IM SOOOOOOOOO *cries*
lewishamilton 🫶🏼
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username i KNOW lando is pulling at his hair rn
username THAT NOTE OH MY GOD
username pls god when will it be me
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
yourusername wdym "u said u like my eyes and u like to make em roll" is not romantic
-> charles_leclerc the most romantic thing i have ever heard in my eye
-> yourusername ❤️
yourusername i love ur mom
-> charles_leclerc i know
-> leclerc_pascale mon ange 😘
-> yourusername MAMA LECLERC ❤️❤️❤️
-> charles_leclerc and i'm right here...
yourusername cannot wait to write songs for u my entire life
-> charles_leclerc cannot wait to compose piano pieces for you 😘
-> username IM SCREAMING
-> username WHAT DO U MEAN HE COMPOSES PIANO PIECES FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username they're so
username i would give anything to have a love like that 😭😭😭😭😭
username im crying.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, lilymhe and 2,975,327 others
yourusername looking at u got me thinking nonsense!!!!!!!!!!! also special thanks to landonorris bc if not for him i wouldn't have met the love of my life so thanks dude even if ur a prepubescent piece of shit
tagged charles_leclerc
18,629 comments
username IM HOWLING WHAT THE FUCK
username THE TAG THE CAPTION
username prepubescent piece of shit will forever be engraved in my brain ❤️
username LMFAOAOAOAO
username y/n y/m/n y/l/n u will always be famous
username IM CRYINF WHAT THEBFUCK
lewishamilton both of you 💕
-> yourusername we love u lewis <3
username she will never let l*ndo live in peace and i love her sm for that
username i just cackled out loud why is she so funny
username SHE'S SOOOO UNSERIOUS
username i js know charles is MADLY in love with her bc HOW can u not be
username she's so unhinged. i love her.
username screaming
lilymhe i thought we were something
-> yourusername babygirl u own my heart and 4ever will
-> alex_albon wow.
-> charles_leclerc oh my god
username they're so adorable 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username THEM
username no bc charles deffo manifested this shit like imagine having a crush on someone for YEARS and then they date ur friend but the friend cheats on them and u end up together like woahh wildddd
-> username and then they write a song about u
-> username AND THEN THEY WRITE A SONG ABOUT U
oscarpiastri a scream just erupted from *his* driver's room
*liked by yourusername*
-> username target audience reached 🫡
username stop with the l*ndo hate comments i seriously CANNOT like them all
username i would do anything to go to a driver's meeting ANYTHING
maxverstappen1 nice caption
-> yourusername thank u :) an angry dutch proof read this
username max proof reading this caption is sooo funny like omg
-> username they're truly destroying his peace and i respect them so much
username i truly cannot wait for the next race
username NO BC DID SOMEONE SEE THAT CLIP WHERE NONSENSE PLAYED IN THE PADDOCK WHILE LANDO WAS THERE AND HE LOOKED SO 😒😒😒😒😒😒
-> username LMFAOAOAOA THAT WAS HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY
-> username truly a cinematic piece ❤️
charles_leclerc was the first photo necessary
-> yourusername absolutely like look at my man ❤️
charles_leclerc looking at YOU got ME thinking nonsense
-> yourusername stop im blushing
charles_leclerc i thought we'd be nice
-> yourusername no YOU'D be nice i'd be mean
-> charles_leclerc okay amour ( my love )
charles_leclerc i love you ❤️
-> yourusername i caught the l-o-v-e
-> yourusername i love you more ❤️
username IM SOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username charles and y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username me when.
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beetlejuicyy · 5 months
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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader
2. Wash Away
Summary: modern!Sukuna hasn't come to terms with the fact that you might not belong to him anymore (featuring a harmless Nanami cameo)
Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating
Word count: 2,789
Series masterlist:
1. Ultimatum
2. Wash Away
3. Only memories
4. Vengeance
Read on AO3
Notes: here's part two!! thank you for the love you showed for the first part, it means a lot. hope you enjoy
General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry
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You checked your phone for the tenth time in the span of a minute. It had become unbearable to witness yourself desperately checking to see if Sukuna wrote you. Sure, you had ignored all his attempts to get in touch in the past few weeks. It didn't mean that you didn't enjoy knowing that he took his time to pester you with messages or take a break while driving between blackmailing some CEO for money and checking the status of the new cargo to call you five times in a row. Sukuna was persistent, if anything, and, as annoying as he was in his conviction that you still belonged to him, you found it incredibly satisfying to see him chasing after you.
However, since yesterday, the messages stopped pouring, your phone has gone silent, and your thoughts had turned your head into a mess. Did he give up on you already? Isn't that what you wished for, though?
"Thank you again for agreeing to meet." You said as the tall blond man came back to the table with your coffee. You argued that it was you who took him out so you would pay. Nonsense, he quickly dismissed you and remembered your usual order like it was yesterday.
"No need to thank me." He respectfully said, sitting down in front of you.
It was pouring outside, a quick summer storm that cooled off the heat of the previous days. It had started raining just after you met at the small café in your neighborhood.
You've known Nanami Kento since college. You graduated one year apart but you were part of the same friend group that ultimately didn't survive after graduation. However, you ended up working at the same company, until he resigned more than a year ago.
"How have you been?" He asked, taking a sip of his black, unsweetened coffee. Polite, as always, showing enough interest in your life while generally minding his own business, Nanami was the only coworker you ever really got along with. 
"Fine, fine." Both of your hands were wrapped around the cold glass full of iced coffee. "Work is shit, like always." He nodded slightly, showing you that you had his full attention. "Actually this is why I wanted to talk to you."
Adjusting to life without Sukuna was hard. You've grown so used to his presence in your life that you stopped noticing how much of a difference he made. He would be in front of your house, one hour after you turned off your work laptop, to pick you up and go for dinner. On days when you worked from the office you would meet for lunch, occasionally, or he would drop by with takeout. On weekends you would go on longer rides by car or sometimes you would hop on the back of his motorbike and go to the seaside. He was filling most of your time and, after that dreadful night, you suddenly realized you had no idea how to exist on your own.
So you buried yourself in work.
Sukuna always hated it when you worked overtime. But now that no one was texting you to be ready, entertain you with riddles about the dress code and your new destination, you found it easier to spend half an hour more fixing some issues at work. Soon it turned into full hours. In two weeks, you ended up realizing that you hated your workplace. You hardly got along with any coworker, the tasks were piling by the hour, the pay started to seem too little for the effort you were putting in. In reality, nothing had changed. Only your perception, since you had no way to blow off steam anymore. Things were easier to tolerate when you knew that you would see your boyfriend.
"I want to quit. I can't stand it anymore." Your fingers were cold and wet because of the glass. "I know you work at the institute now. If there's any vacant position sometime, could you let me know?"
You felt bad for turning to Nanami, honestly to anyone, asking for things. However, you felt the desperate need for a change in your life. Or maybe you tried to cope with the lack of Sukuna's presence in your life by changing it completely.
"I mean, we have similar background, we graduated the same program."
You felt anxious asking for a favor, especially since you haven't seen him since he resigned and only kept in touch through few messages. So you started talking too much, justifying yourself, trying to get rid of the little voice inside your head that was saying you're a burden.
"I don't even want a recommendation or something, the thing is that I know these posts aren't usually public and someone with connections ends up getting it before the normal person can apply.” The more you tried to explain yourself, the guiltier you felt. Nanami, on the other hand, patiently waited for you to finish, not interrupting or dismissing your worries.
"Of course I'll help, y/n." He said as he leaned back in his chair.
"Thank you. And sorry."
"No need. We're friends." You smiled gratefully. You could always count on Nanami.
You continued to catch up with him while munching on some pastries. You almost forgot to check your phone as often. It felt nice to talk to one of your old friends, especially since you had locked yourself inside your room for the past two weeks. At some point, over the muffled voices of people and the generic song playing in the café you heard the sound of a motorbike engine hurring on the street. You mentally cursed at your heart for beating faster, immediately associating the sound with the image of your ex-boyfriend.
"Yeah, so apparently they have been hooking up the whole time and everyone found out during the team building. It's only rumors I've heard since I didn't go." You were telling Nanami the latest gossip about some coworkers when you noticed he wasn't paying attention to your story. His eyes were focused somewhere behind you. He muttered a quick excuse for ignoring you and you turned your head to see what he was looking at.
Goddamn it.
Sukuna was piercing you with his gaze as he walked in the small café, having girls follow his tall figure with their eyes as he passed by them with determined steps. His pink hair was a mess because of the helmet he just took off and he ran a hand through his longer strands to put them back in place. You rolled your eyes when you met his gaze, clearly annoyed by what was about to happen. Somehow, coming to a small neighborhood café just to make a scene while looking unbearably attractive was easier than saying ‘I'm sorry’.
Sukuna hated when you rolled your eyes at him. Coincidentally, he found it very arousing. Being a brat was one of your specialties but it seemed that now you were testing his limits a little too much. You turned back to Nanami in an attempt to reassure him you could handle this on your own but Sukuna was already by your table before you could finish your sentence.
"You've proved your point. Let's go home." He said, looking down at you. He had his hands in his leather jacket's pockets, exuding a very laid back attitude, reinforced by the calmness of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were a toddler.
The fluttering feeling in your stomach at the sight of his handsome face, which you hadn't seen in over two weeks, was crushed by the curious and longing eyes of every girl in that damned café scanning your ex from head to toe. The mix of anger and disgust you first felt when you first saw that dreadful video had come back to every fiber of your body and you clenched your fist so tight that your nails were digging stinging holes in your palm.
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Your voice almost screeched while trying to contain your vexation.
"Y/n, I'm not playing this game anymore." He said as his large hand found the nape of your bared neck, your hair up in a high ponytail. The touch of his fingers on your skin sent bolts of excitement in your whole body, straight between your legs, and you had to rub your thighs together on the chair to brush the feeling away. Nanami sat up, ready to say something in your defense, but you had already slapped Sukuna's hand away and sat up yourself. He looked down at your smaller body with an irritated expression, the tattoos on his face making him seem even more dangerous than he actually was.
"Sorry, Kento-kun. I'll be back in five." You excused yourself with a smile before making your way out, your shoulder brushing harshly against Sukuna's chest on your way. He followed you out, and you knew all those girls' eyes were on his every move. The thought drove you insane.
"Kento-kun, huh?" Sukuna mocked you when you finally stopped under the roof in the empty inner garden of the café. Usually it was full of customers but now the rain was washing over the empty white metal tables and chairs with soothing tapping sounds. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pockets but you quickly whined in annoyance.
"Don't. I hate the smell.”
Both his eyebrows raised in a perfect mix of surprise and irritation, almost like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. You never bothered to mention this aspect whenever your eyes would follow him longingly from the bed as he would light up a cigarette after fucking you rough, one finger playing with your lower lip. He chose to dismiss the thought as his head lowered so his eyes could look directly into yours, one hand placed at the side of your head against the wall. The smell of rain combined with his familiar and comforting perfume had your knees weaken while you tried to challenge his inquiring eyes.
“It took you two weeks to find a new personality?” His look was intimidating. You weakly tried to push him away pressing your hands against his chest but he didn’t even flinch. He sneered at your false effort, enjoying the warm feeling of your hands still lingering over the fabric of his white t-shirt.
“Why are you here, S’kuna?” You asked. Every time you imagined seeing him again you hoped to express your anger coherently, determined to let every single speck of negative emotion out of your system. You wanted to yell at him, hit him, make him understand the ruckus raising inside your heart because of him. But now all you could do was look at him with pleading eyes, almost begging him to tell you what you wanted to hear, what would finally allow you to forget everything and let yourself fall in his arms again.
“I came to stop you from embarrassing yourself.” You rolled your eyes again, pushing him with more force this time. He was still unmoved. You crossed your arms under your chest, unintentionally pushing at your breasts. He could notice the slight movement at the edge of his field of view, without taking his eyes off yours. He loved that baby blue fitted t-shirt of yours, with lace around the generous cleavage. And you wore it to see Kento-kun. The way you said that man’s name echoed in Sukuna’s brain and the thought altogether made him lose his mind.
“No, you are embarrassing me.” You spat back. You couldn’t believe you really expected him to give you what you what you wanted so easily.
“Half the city knows you’re my woman.” His other hand grabbed you by the arm, as if trying to shake you out of your stubbornness. Or keep you there, so you wouldn’t leave his side, no matter if you wanted to.
“We broke up, do you need a public statement for that?” It was painful even to you to say those words. You never thought you had officially broken up, not as long as you still hoped Sukuna would get over himself and admit that he was wrong, that he would never do that again. Because he loved you. But you let those venomous words out of your mouth in an attempt to see him feel only a fraction of the hurt you were containing in your heart.
Sukuna didn’t answer. He didn’t have any smart reply for that. He looked at you in silence, the only sound echoing between the two of you being the tapping of raindrops on the ground. He really did think you were simply acting like a brat, dismissing his efforts to talk only to have him chase you. Sukuna knew you loved that and, from time to time, you would push him away so you could see him make an effort to get to you. He never understood your reasons, but he entertained your caprices, enjoying the occasional taunting resembling a mouse and a cat constantly on the hunt. This time, it didn’t seem like a game anymore.
You wanted to kiss him so badly. You wouldn’t allow yourself, though, but your eyes would move from his eyes to his lips, his plump soft lips that you desperately wanted to bite on. You had left him speechless, with a helpless look on his face that only made you pity him. Pressing your lips together, you forced yourself to leave, since your knees were weaker by the minute and your arms were aching to be around his neck.
As you turned away, his hand gently fell down your arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over your bare skin, and he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.
“Give me another chance.” Sukuna almost begged. It was a pathetic sight, the tall muscular man, dressed in all black, with tattoos on his face, his whole presence imposing and intimidating, begging a woman like you to take him back. It almost made you give up. Almost.
“Give me one good reason.” You said, surprised by the composure of your voice in contrast to the hurricane of feelings in your heart.
“I miss you.” His eyebrows were raised in a pitiful plea.
“You’ll get used to it.” It wasn’t enough. You tried to break free from his grip but he held on your wrist as if it was the only thing allowing him to breathe.
“Don’t you miss me, y/n?” There it was. When his deep voice and mesmerizing eyes were failing to reach you he would retort to emotional blackmail. Of course you missed him, you cursed at yourself when you hesitated to answer, when the loud voice in your head was screaming to you that yes, you missed him, you missed him so much and your entire life felt pointless, that you hardly enjoyed anything since you last saw him, that you missed his comforting words and his safe arms and his handsome face.
“Someone is waiting for me.” You said as he let go of your wrist.
Sukuna watched as you turned your back to him, your long ponytail wiggling in the air with every step you took further away from him. He hated to see you go. Leaning against the wall, he lit up that cigarette only after you were out of his sight. It was such a peaceful rainy day when everything seemed to have slowed down, drenched in the humid air. His eyes were fixed on one small table for two in the corner of the garden, protected from the rain by a tall tree. It was your favorite spot, in your favorite café where he would find you reading sometimes, while sipping on iced tea. You always laughed at him whenever he would pick you up from there. His dark unapproachable figure made such a big contrast with the softness of the garden full of flowers. Sukuna always thought you fit so well there, like a goddess of the spring with your flowy skirts and your pretty round face.
He sighed, a thin cloud of smoke forming in the air as it blew out of his mouth. You were so different, almost opposites. This is why you worked so well together, you completed each other. He let his head fall back, resting against the wall, as he looked at the sky that was already starting to clear up. He wasn’t going to erase that tattoo off his skin just as he wasn’t going to allow you to erase him out of your life.
《previous 1. Ultimatum next》 Ascension |
True Form! Sukuna x Reader
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tags: @siriuslyblackonback @rosaryia @st4r-s4r4 @depressiondiaries @sterzin @rowrowrowyourboat13
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osaemu · 11 months
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・𖠗 EMAILS I CAN'T SEND EVENT !
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with songs featuring gojo, geto, dazai, chuuya, and childe !
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BEFORE YOU LISTEN . . .
careful, there's gonna be some pretty mature themes headin' in . . . sex, cheating, overthinking, y'know, the usual. it's hard being hot !
WHAT'S THE ALBUM ABOUT ?
well, i heard some guys from jujutsu kaisen, bungo stray dogs, and genshin impact are involved in the drama, maybe you know them !
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TRACK 9: NONSENSE "baby i'm in too deep, here's a lil' song i wrote, it's about you and me"
꒰ pop star!reader x secret lover!gojo
being a pop star is tough, and maintaining a relationship alongside it is even harder. good thing you have a boyfriend to share the nights with, but what happens when those night-time specials start seeping into your daytime routine?
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TRACK 10: FAST TIMES "tiptoeing past so many stages, but what the fuck is patience?"
꒰ coworkers with benefits ft. pm boss!chuuya
being a mafia boss is hard, and the stress that comes with it could kill. so, your boss's solution is to take it out on his pretty little secretary — you. one thing leads to another, and soon it becomes a regular thing. it's okay, it's not like he's gonna fuck you during work hours, right?
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TRACK 11: SKINNY DIPPING "if we could take it all off and just exist, and skinny dip in water under the bridge"
꒰ break up –> make up ft. criminal!geto
when you found out he wasn't who he said he was, you dumped him on the spot, and after that you didn't see him for nineteen days. so what happens on the twentieth day when you run into him at your local coffee shop, and how did it end with his dick in your mouth?
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TRACK 13: DECODE "you're good at impersonating someone who cares, and you had me for a minute there"
꒰ actor!reader x actor!dazai
your co-star is known for his acting prowess, and maybe he's just a little too good, because even when the lights are down and no cameras in sight, you can never seem to figure out if he means what he says. even when he's drunk in your sheets, every word seems carefully calculated to get something out of you — who knows what he wants?
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TRACK 15: FEATHER "your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch, you fit every stereotype, send a pic"
꒰ it girl!reader x fuckboy!gojo
you're everything, and he's just another fuckboy. but even though he's the biggest dickhead you've ever met, you can't deny that he's very, very attractive. so what happens when you have one too many drinks and end up moaning his name all night long?
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TRACK 16: LONESOME "did you think about her face with your hands around my waist? did you even give a fuck?"
꒰ exes with benefits ft. fuckboy!childe
you probably shouldn't still sleep with the boy who ruined your life, but hey, he's the only one who knows how to fuck you just right. even if he made you cry for a week straight, you'd rather be crying out his name than wallowing in self-pity at home. and it's not like you're gonna get back together with him, are you?
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TRACK 17: THINGS I WISH YOU SAID "i saw you met somebody and i'm jealous as hell, that i can't even stomach loving somebody else"
꒰ cheating ft. ex boyfriend!dazai
maybe it's wrong to cheat on your current boyfriend with your ex, but you never moved on and apparently, neither did he. and shit, he's just as skillful with his words as ever, so just one night wouldn't hurt, right?
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SO, WHEN CAN I HEAR THE STORIES ?
well, hannah'll tell you whenever she feels like it, but who knows what order she's whisper them to you in ? it'll be a surprise ~
CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHEN THE STORY'S OUT ?
there's no taglist or anythin', but you can check back here to see if anything's leaked yet ! ++ maybe follow hannah and her tag, 'cause she said she'll post updates there . . . #✧ — emails i can't send
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have fun listening! reblogs very appreciated xoxo –> signed, hannah
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balkanradfem · 7 months
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So I've had some thoughts and I don't actually believe that males aren't attracted to women over 25, they absolutely can't even tell a 40yo from a 25yo woman, they made it clear they're only attracted to visual features and they don't even know what age they're looking at. But they are still absolutely obsessed with youth and repeatedly attempt to mingle with female teenagers and try to find a partner who is in the age brackets from 14-21. I do believe a lot of these males are pedophiles, or have converted themselves into pedophiles, but also the end goal of pedophiles and other males is the same: to find a girl/woman with no background knowledge or previous experience.
Even if a 18 year old woman looks exactly like a 25 year old woman, they'll go for the 18 year old, not because she's more attractive or 'fertile', it's simply because they can have that much more power and influence over her. They can tell her anything about life and she wouldn't know the difference, wouldn't know she's being lied to. She hasn't yet had the experience of tolerating male nonsense to the point of breaking, hasn't seen trough their schemes and grooming process, she doesn't know their true intentions, she doesn't have her finances/career/living situation in order, she is more vulnerable, more naive, more easy to exploit. She's still filled with hope and optimism, inclined to believe the best of them, to give them benefit of the doubt, to forgive and tolerate and do whatever she's told to, in order to gain their approval.
25 year old woman will not do this so easily, she's probably had enough experience with the world and the m*n to see the red flags instantly. The 40 year old woman, who looks exactly as attractive, will not even spare him the second glance, he's nothing to her, she knows his value is null.
I don't think it's youth, appearance, or any other kind of 'biological impulse' that makes m*n go after younger women, it's just the amount of power they're able to have over younger women. The idea of a woman who knows who they are and what they stand for is intensely non-attractive to them, a woman who understands their core and knows their intentions, that is a complete no-go, they'd rather throw insults at her and make sure she can't communicate her knowledge to the younger generations.
But a younger woman who is still under the effects of patriarchal grooming, who is easy to convince, manipulate, trick, cheat, who is without any defenses, naive, gullible, that's where their attraction is amplified. If the situation suddenly switched and all of the younger women had the exact experience and power of mature women, while mature women were under some kind of amnesia and thought m*n were cool, and were willing to do whatever for them, the attraction would flip just like that. M*n really can't do well anywhere except among children who are fawning over them, not knowing what they're looking at.
Being young and without experience makes a woman so much less likely to be able to defend herself against abuse, so much more easily pulled into doing things against her own benefit, much more easily obliged with a promise of a fake future that will never happen. And they all know they're pulling those young women into relationships/partnerships under fake pretenses, that they're just going to use these young women, until they age up to the point where they're sick of his bullshit, and then find new, younger, more inexperienced, more easy to manipulate girls.
What I'm saying is that their attraction grows only with girls and women's inability to truly consent to what they're going to do to her. If those young women knew where the situation was going, they would never say yes to it, and m*n all know it.
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lqveharrington · 8 months
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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow
5: The Winner’s Guilt (Series Masterlist)
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summary: Your father makes another deal, and Coriolanus Snow wins the 10th Annual Hunger Games, but Dean Highbottom won’t let him feel too good about it… Especially when he knows his weakness.
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
includes: reader’s dad being a dick, major fluff at the beginning, allusions to sex, kissing, death, mentions of murder, yelling/screaming, mentions of cheating, mentions of heartbreak, italics are flashbacks, bold italics are Coriolanus’ thoughts
word count: 4.4k+
a/n: oopsies, sorry for the long wait 😔 ALSO THIS STORY IS NOT OVER YET, DONT WORRY
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Waking up and hearing your father’s nonsense about the Hunger Games was not the best way to start your morning as a mentor. Especially when your tribute had just survived the blood bath by the skin of her teeth and an ally. You really did not want to stay home any longer, but your father insisted that you stay and listen to his thoughts about the games, asking about your own thoughts and strategies on how you were going to get the young twelve-year-old to win.
“Mhm.” You nod mindlessly, poking your food in boredom. You were grateful for the food made by your wonderful staff, but your father was just ruining it.
“Be glad your sickly tribute had an alliance with the other District Eleven tribute. She would have been dead otherwise.”
You hum again, sipping from the tea this time. It took at least ten minutes before he switched the topic, something that made you want to listen to his speech about the Hunger Games instead.
“How are you and that young Snow doing?”
The question was out of the blue, which meant it was attached to something much worse afterward.
“We’re doing as fine as it always is.” You meet his eyes, the weight of your rose charm suddenly becoming prominent. “Why?”
“Can’t I take interest in my daughter’s relationship with a boy who isn’t worth anything?” Your father raised his brow, an entitled chuckle following. You glare at him, gaining his attention back. “You know his songbird won’t win. She barely escaped. And she’s friends with the other tribute who got bitten in the neck. They won’t make it out even if they tried. Plus, I know he would do anything to win, even if it means breaking a few rules—”
You shake your head, “Is this going anywhere? Or are we going to keep talking about the games?”
“Ah, you take after your mother.” He smiles at the memory before switching back to his authoritative tone. “I was speaking with Porcius Creed about his eldest son—”
“Father—”
“---And if all else fails with young Mr. Snow, he would be delighted to have his son wed you.” He finishes, looking at your expression with amusement. “What?”
“I hate you.” You seeth and push away from the dining table, taking your coat and leaving the Lovett Manor.
Your father had been talking about setting you up with another one of your peers after the games. You didn’t expect him to already arrange something without knowing if Coriolanus was going to win or not. Sure, his chances were slim, but you had the hope that he would win, even if that meant your tribute couldn’t. And it was hell knowing that if he lost you were stuck with Festus for the rest of your life. He wasn’t as bad as the other prospects your father had brought up, but there were others more worthy of you than Festus.
Including Coriolanus Snow.
There were several times when you knew you wanted to marry Coriolanus. You could be separated from him for months and still want to marry him. It was something you believed that would never change.
Lovett Manor was filled with the most prestigious families of the Capitol. Your father had invited almost everyone he was business partners with and those in control of the government. He had left little invitations for you to give out as the majority of them were already well acquainted with you through the Academy. Luckily, you were able to sneak an invite to the Snows, having the power to veto your father’s own opinions.
After all, it was your eighteenth birthday.
However, you had zero say in how your party was supposed to go. Your father had planned everything and hired the best staff to make the house and ballroom presentable for your birthday. All you did was watch from the living room and pick out a dress from the dozens your stylist brought in.
And with all the families present in the grand ballroom, you thought it would be best to sneak away while the party was still hot and heavy, taking quick steps up to your room.
Entering your room, you swung open the balcony doors to reveal the vast garden looming over the backyard. You could still hear the muffled songs playing from the ballroom from below as you leaned against your balcony’s concrete railings.
It felt like only a few minutes before someone came knocking on your door, making you release a heavy sigh.
“Yes?” You ask, body still facing away from your room.
“I haven’t seen you all night, beautiful.” Coriolanus entered, watching your eyes light up as you whipped around.
You smiled and let him pull you into an embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso. You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He held you by the hand and twirled you around, admiring your figure. “You look stunning.”
Truth be told, the dress and makeup were truly beautiful. You wore an off-shoulder, silk red gown that cascaded down to the ground, with ruby earrings dangling and shining from the moonlight. Your lips were painted a daring red, matching your complexion beautifully. Not to mention the necklace hanging around your neck, which was Coriolanus’ favorite jewelry you’ve ever owned. But really, he loved the way you looked all the time.
“You look so beautiful.” He breathed almost intimately, his blue eyes now focusing on yours.
You continued to smile brightly, taking note of his matching outfit. You wondered how much Tigris had to spend just so he could look proper at your party. The thought gnawed in your mind for a bit before you snapped back, coming up with a quick compliment to cover your silence. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
A new song started up in the ballroom. A slower song preferably for the couples and single men your father wanted you to dance with. Coriolanus tilts his head at the music, a playful glint in his eyes as you raise a brow in curiosity.
Coriolanus formally extends his hand out to you, “Would you like to dance, beautiful?”
You shake your head with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his. “Of course, Coryo.”
He kisses the top of your hand and pulls you into a graceful waltz. One hand was placed delicately on your waist while the other held your hand that wasn’t holding onto his shoulder. He guided you effortlessly across your balcony, matching the song’s pace. You two spoke about your day and brought up memories from the past. It was refreshing to talk to someone you genuinely wanted to talk to.
“Thank you for the flowers.” You mention, remembering the orchids that were sent up to your room earlier while you were getting ready, Coriolanus’ handwriting scrawled on a piece of paper attached to it. “I love them.”
“I have another gift, but that won’t come until later.” He winked as he spun you around, watching your face flush red as he caught you.
“I hate you.” You bite back a smile, your heart wanting nothing more than to kiss and marry the man in front of you. You promised yourself you could never actually hate him. You knew there would never be a chance where you could have the strongest emotion to hate him.
He let a small smirk slip through, “You love me.”
“Yeah, I do.” You reply with the softest voice.
Coriolanus dipped you as the song came to an end, holding onto you tightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”
You smiled widely at him, knowing that he was the only one who completely swept you off your feet.
He pressed a loving kiss to your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It seemed like fireworks went off in your stomach as the actual fireworks went off in the night sky, signifying the end of your birthday party.
“And Happy Anniversary,” Coriolanus spoke when he parted your lips briefly, gazing into your eyes filled with adoration.
By the time you snapped out of your memories, you arrived at the Capitol’s Citadel. You were unaware of how long you were disassociated with the world around you until the horns honking behind you grew more aggressive and loud. As you left the car and entered the impending building, whispers were going around of another tribute’s death. Many suspected it was another one of Coral’s, but you knew the truth and didn’t dare say a word about it.
Soon enough, Lucretius Flickerman announced the death of the tribute.
“Wakey wakey, my Capitol friends! I’m Lucky Flickerman and welcome to day number two of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games.” He introduces himself to the camera once more. “Now while most of you were getting your beauty sleep last night, something scintillating occurred. Bobbin, from District Eight, slaughtered.”
The screen flashed to the boy’s frozen body, the buzzer indicating the official death.
You bit the inside of your cheek, resting your hands on the back of your seat. You glanced around the huge room, looking for a particular blond when Lysistrata and Festus came over to where you stood, supposedly finding someone new to rope into their conversation about the fallen tribute.
“We have a question for you.” Festus clasped his hands together and pointed toward you. You blinked for a second, hoping that he wasn’t going to bring up anything your father recently told you. “Why do you think they wouldn’t show us the death of the young boy?”
You shrug and slip into the mask of a Capitol student with no care after realizing Festus didn’t know what his own father roped him into. “Maybe they lost the footage.”
“How can they? They were live all night.” Lysistrata furrowed her brows, glancing up at the screen. “Something is off.”
“Maybe they’re building suspense, Lyssie.” You silently thank whoever was in charge of the program for changing the camera feed. “Who knows what could have happened. Maybe the death was just too brutal.”
Festus shook his head like your thought wasn’t something practical. “Obviously it was one of Coral’s. Everyone else we’ve talked to said that no one else has moved throughout the night except her and the rest of her pack.”
You zoned out from their conversation as they started to argue more about the young boy, picking at your nails. The sounds around you meshed into one while the Citadel filled with Academy and University students, along with families of the remaining mentors. With your distracted self, you hadn’t realized Coriolanus arrived and was well aware of your disassociation.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Coriolanus slipped an arm around your waist as he left a quick kiss on your cheek. He quickly noticed you being absent-minded, rubbing soft circles in your waist. “What’s wrong?”
You hummed, taking his hand and lacing them together. “A lot of stuff.”
“You can’t be vague.” He clicks his tongue and lets you mess with his fingers. “What happened?”
You tilt your head up and peck his lips. “I love you a lot, you know that, right?”
“I do.” He murmurs, looking between your eyes. “I love you more than you realize… What did your father say to you?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of your father, cursing your boyfriend’s quick judgment. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Fine.” He gave you another quick kiss, unbuttoning his blazer. “What are they talking about?” He titled his head to the duo to your right.
“Tribute’s death.” You loop a finger around your necklace for a bit and then move your hand over to Coriolanus’ left shoulder, gently massaging as he tenses. “Are you feeling any better?”
He shrugs, “Hoping for everything to end today.”
You give his shoulder one last squeeze, “You better sit down. Flickerman looks like he’s gonna murder Festus for standing around.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Coriolanus removed his arm from you and placed a brief kiss on your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You reciprocate.
Truly, you found it strange that Coriolanus became more attentive and doting toward you recently. But who were you to complain about your boyfriend’s sudden increase in affection?
You took your seat as the screen flashed to Jessup and Lucy Gray down in the same spot from last time. You weren’t interested too badly until the male tribute moved to attack Lucy Gray. You weren’t expecting it, nor did everyone else watching as gasps emerged from the stands. Everyone was fixated on the screen as the camera switched to the main part of the arena, capturing the chase.
“Jessup, going for Lucy Gray.” Flickerman commentates, more gasps and murmurs coming from the stands inside the Citadel.
You shifted your gaze over to your right, watching Coriolanus converse with Lysistrata. You knew he was trying to talk his way into getting his tribute to survive, but you were silently hoping Jessup took out Lucy Gray. You weren’t one to wish death upon someone, but the little memory locked in a chest started to break open the more you thought about your father’s words. However, you knew Jessup was done for the second you caught Lysistrata giving in to Coriolanus’ efforts.
She sent a drone out with water, the glass smashing against the tribute’s chest which sent panic to course through his body. Everyone watched as he tried to balance, but he fell over the concrete ledge and promptly died, the buzzer indicating the time of death. You watched as your peer walked out of the room with a broken face, avoiding the eyes of her classmates.
Your eyes flickered back to the screen as you heard the crowd’s murmur increase in volume. Lucy Gray was surrounded by Coral and her group and it felt like she had lost the game as more donations started to roll in for the other tributes. There were positives and negatives to Lucy Gray’s life in the games. If Lucy Gray died now, you would be stuck with Festus. If she survived and won, you were sure you would be stuck with seeing red everywhere, even if you had Coriolanus to yourself.
And as if he heard your thoughts, Festus looked over at you and then to Coriolanus, watching both of your faces to find any change emotionally.
“Oh, look at this! The pack doing what they do best, packing it in!” Flickerman switches his gaze over to the mentors as he hears a computer switching keys. “Mr. Snow going for his community packages.”
You reach up for your necklace’s charm, watching as the horrid drones come pouring into the arena and smashing into the tributes. You were thankful that Dill was safe and away from the chaos that happened within a span of just a few minutes. If anything, you would rather have Dill stay hidden for the rest of the games and let everyone else fight for their lives.
“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes.” Vipsania stood from her seat, all heads turning toward her and then to Coriolanus.
“I’m just sending water.” Coriolanus shrugs, looking at you for a split second in amusement.
Honestly, you were on the verge of letting a small laugh out at his response. Of course, he used the drones to attack the tributes, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?
Instead of looking back at the screen like the rest of your classmates did, you let your eyes train on Coriolanus. He was just so immersed in the live feed and you couldn’t help yourself. His tongue would slightly poke out and his eyebrows would furrow every couple seconds. It would have been cute if you weren’t mentoring the Hunger Games or if there wasn’t a buzzer just now.
When you said you were going to study with Coriolanus, you weren’t thinking that you were going to study for the next four hours after class ended. You studied for about thirty solid minutes before you started to lose focus.
You shifted your attention from the Latin textbook in your lap to the blond next to you. You smiled at the sight. He was focused on reading a passage in Latin that he didn’t realize his tongue was poking out with the scrunch of his nose and brows.
“Coryo.” You shifted from your spot on his bed, sitting up as he hummed. “Do you know you look like an angry kitten when you read?”
“Pardon?” He looked up at you, watching your eyes shine in delight.
“Well, you make a face that looks like an angry kitten whenever you focus on something…” You hide your face behind his shoulder, suppressing a short laugh. “Never mind.”
Coriolanus swore his heart skipped a beat at your laughter, falling deeper and deeper in love with you each day. “Beautiful, I won’t be compared to an angry kitten outside of this conversation.”
“Fine.” You bite back a smile as you peer up at him from your spot. “But I’ll be thinking about it whenever I see you do it. It’s cute.”
He felt the tips of his ear warm at your words, “It’s not cute.”
“It is.” You peck his cheek. “It so is. I’ll take a picture of it one day and print it for you.”
“Again, falling. Ending a tribute’s game.”
Your attention shifted back to the screen as Lucy Gray ran up into the fallen stands and into the air ducts. The second she locked herself in there, another buzzer went off moments later.
Coral killed one from her pack. Despite having an alliance together, she had zero hesitation to turn against someone to prove her worth and not let anyone get in her way.
“Seven tributes remain. Merciless Mizzen, cunning Coral, treacherous Treech. Dill, Reaper, of course, and the little ones. Little Wovey and Lucy Gray.”
You blew a small breath out, watching as Coral and her pack left to get Wovey. You felt bad for the poor girl, but you would rather have them after anyone else who wasn’t your own tribute. You shut your eyes for a moment, but you could sense something bad was about to happen with all the silence filling the room.
“And who do we have here? Ah, it’s ill Dill. Tuberculosis on legs.”
Your eyes immediately shoot open as you hear your tribute’s name being called. You wish she could have at least waited for Reaper to go with her out in the arena. She had no weapon, and it wasn’t practical to be in the Hunger Games without a weapon. You were just praying that no one would see her, hoping that she could get the water and go.
She looked around the arena before taking a sip from the water left by the pack. Dill placed it back down and coughed a fit, something that confused you. She was coughing a lot more than the other day. You creased your brows as she moved to lay down on the ground, continually coughing. You swore she was better before she entered the arena. And if she wasn’t, you gave her medicine to take during the games.
Coriolanus dropped his gaze down from the screen and glanced over to you, knowing the truth of what happened to the girl. He knew that your tribute already lost the games by drinking the water.
You watched as Reaper came running across the screen, shaking her awake before dread spread through your body as he flipped her over. He screamed, looking around the arena.
“No no no no no no.” You mumble, eyes glazed over. “How did that even—? No no no no no—“
The buzzer went off. Officially indicating the death of your tribute. You bit your tongue and left, not daring to look back at the screen where your tribute lay dead or meet your lover’s eyes which were burning into you.
You stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall, holding back sobs for the young girl. You promised yourself you would get Dill out, and you couldn’t even keep it. Mentoring the games increased your hatred for them, but the deaths of each tribute shot the hatred far past the point of return. You wiped stray tears that managed to get away from you, the tears darkening your red Academy uniform. You were about to head back to Lovett Manor when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you, making you freeze your movements. You saw Dean Highbottom waiting for you with what seemed like a videotape in his hand labeled: NIGHT 3, CAPITOL ZOO.
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Fireworks went off in the early evening as Coriolanus entered one of the most important Capitol buildings. He was instructed that his tribute was waiting for him inside, but he still wanted to find you. You were not present when he won the Hunger Games and no one knew where you went.
Until now.
“Lucy Gray?” Coriolanus called out in the monumental room, the peacekeepers escorting him waiting by the front. “Lucy Gray?” He called one more time, voice echoing.
He slowly spun around looking at the table in front of him, the color draining from his face as he saw his father’s handkerchief and his mother’s compact. Albeit confused as to why a television was placed amongst them.
“Coriolanus.” Your own voice reverberated around the room, entering the room with your own pair of peacekeepers.
“Beautiful,” He loosened his tense shoulders, smiling at your presence. “Where were you? I—“
“I heard you won.” You frown, walking over to him. “Congratulations.”
He creased his brows at the way you carried yourself. It was different. “What’s wrong—“
“You cheated, Coriolanus.” You glance at the items laid across the table, tapping the videotape the dean gave you against your palm. “You know that’s against the rules.”
“Yes, but—“ Then he cut himself off as he noticed your puffy, bloodshot eyes. He knew were crying for a while if they had gotten to that state.
“You cheated.” You said again. This time, your voice trembled at the thought. “Was I ever going to know?”
Coriolanus kept quiet, waiting for you to continue. There was no way you knew about it… Right?
“Coriolanus, when?” You quickly wipe a falling tear, keeping your composure up.
“Never.” He spoke as he reached out to you. “But it was all for you! I don’t—“
You pull away from his touch, shoving the tape down onto the table. “Play the tape, Coriolanus.”
He sighed, taking the recording and putting it inside the slot, the television coming to life.
The video that was played was a recording from the Capitol Zoo. And according to the timestamp at the top, yesterday.
You couldn’t watch the screen even if you tried. You knew that if you did, there was no coming back from breaking down and sobbing for what seemed like the nth time today.
“Beautiful…” Coriolanus runs a hair through his hand, watching the tape. “That kiss with Lucy Gray meant nothing.”
Apparently watching it happen and hearing it coming from your lover’s mouth was entirely different because you snapped the second he mentioned those three words in one sentence.
“You kissed Lucy Gray, Coriolanus!” You yell, tears now free-falling from your face. His eyes widened at your tone, looking between your fiery eyes. “You kissed her so you could win! You manipulated the poor girl! You thought I wouldn’t find out about this? You gave her your mother’s compact filled with poison and it killed my tribute! It’s not—”
You took deep breaths, shutting your eyes as your heart slowly broke with each second passing he said nothing.
“Do you want to know why I was upset earlier, Coriolanus?” You quickly wipe a tear. “Because my father and Festus’ father agreed to let me wed Festus if you didn’t win. You won, but at what cost?”
He wanted to comfort you, but the second he touched you, it was all over. He knew that his touch would be unwelcome.
“You kissed Lucy Gray when you promised I was your top priority.” You disregarded the few tears that continued to pour out of your eyes. “You kissed her when you promised wherever we go, you stayed with me.” You bite your lip, looking down at the floor, almost whispering the next words. “You kissed Lucy Gray when we were together like I meant nothing to you.”
“Were?” Coriolanus questioned your use of the past tense to reference your relationship status. “What do you mean were?”
You flicker your eyes up to his, “As in we were together. Coriolanus, you cheated on me. And no, we can’t just fix this issue this time or forget about it. You could have come up with any other way of getting Lucy Gray to win, but you chose one that could hurt me…” You crease your brows at the inflection of your words. “And it did. You think you did the right thing, but choosing to kiss someone else to be with another is not how this works.”
“Beautiful…”
“I can’t.” You murmur, unclasping the necklace off of you and handing it over to him. “You can’t expect me to stay with you after you cheated on me. After you reassured me that you weren’t acting a certain way with Lucy Gray.”
He paled as the necklace fell into his palm, the weight of the silver burning his hand like the burden it was. “You know I never meant it like that. I wanted to win for you.”
“I know.” You gave him a bitter smile at the thought of your father’s deal, calming yourself from your earlier reactions.
Coriolanus wrapped his fingers around the hot necklace, watching you become more and more distant with him. “You know I love you, right?”
“I know.” You replied as the peacekeepers signaled for you to wrap it up. You let out a shaky breath as one last tear fell from your face, getting ready to leave before Highbottom came.
Coriolanus couldn’t help but wipe it off, causing you to frown at his cold touch. “Please.”
You take a hold of his hand, squeezing it. “Coriolanus… It’s not fair to myself.”
Before you could leave, Coriolanus pulled you into his arms, one hand holding your hip while the other held your back. He kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry, beautiful.”
You choke back a sob that threatened to escape, bringing your hands to your mouth. You knew you had to leave, but it wasn’t like you could leave his embrace. It gave you comfort even if you didn’t want it from him. And he held you. After everything, you let him hold you tightly.
Everything was wrong. The wrong place at the wrong time. And the only thing that both you and Coriolanus felt as you left him was fallen snow melting on burning silver.
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shares-a-vest · 11 months
Text
Prompt: Tall (Discord Drabble) I don't think I've written Steddie-height difference discourse/banter so here we go...
As Dustin huffs another frustrated breath beside her, Robin rolls her eyes. She can feel the kid folding his arms beside her as they watch Steve and Eddie flap about, arguing about their non-existent height difference near the front door.
Steve promised he would do all the restocks today while Robin showed Dustin the ropes, prepping their friend for a potential summer job – one that only Keith could officially grant.
But she didn't expect her best friend to immediately become distracted by Eddie's nonsense. He's become kind of a (total) pest, coming in on one too many breaks from the mechanic down the street to tease, taunt and sickly flirt with Steve at every possible opportunity.
Robin grips her notebook, her Bible of Family Video work processes she wants to impart on Henderson in order to impress his potential employer.
She thinks she'll just about break its goddamn spine if the scene before her carries on any longer.
"You are not taller!" Steve complains, holding his arms tight against his sides and puffing out his chest for maximum height.
Eddie snorts, "Oh pish-posh, Steve."
He mirrors Steve's stance and honestly, as she eyeballs it, Robin is sure Munson looks to be an inch taller.
... At least in his work boots.
Steve must read her mind because he quickly points to said height-assisting footwear and clicks his fingers.
"Boots, off!" he commands and Eddie grins.
"Yes, sir!" he enthuses.
"Yuck," Dustin grimaces.
Robin thinks her eyes might roll back into her skull, never to return.
Shoes off now, Steve and Eddie square up again. Steve smirks.
"See?" he teases, "Taller."
Eddie practically hisses as he looks him up and down, fists clenched tight. He murmurs something to himself before he attacks Steve's hair, patting his quaff down and smoothing it out with flat palms. Steve screams, batting him away.
His resistance creates a chaotic (and more than a little pathetic) slap-fight.
"What-cha-fu – "
"You're a no-good cheat with that hair!"
"Don't touch it!"
"Don't worry, Stevie, you're still bigger where it counts."
Dustin claps his hands over his ears.
"Disgusting!"
Steve manages to shirk away from Eddie's hold around his waist, jumping back far enough that he almost falls straight into the shiny new cardboard cutout of Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
"Henderson!" he pants, clutching at his lower back. He takes a moment to gather himself before fishing in his back pocket and retrieves his wallet.
He hurls the thing across the store. It goes flying as Robin and Dustin both fail to catch it. The wallet hits a candy display, knocking a box of 3 Musketeers and scattering them all over the floor inside the counter space.
"Oops," Steve says, bringing his hand to cover his mouth.
Robin catches his eye and scowls.
"Dustin..." Eddie huffs, winded, "Go buy a tape measure."
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funnyexel · 1 year
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Imagine having Makeup Sex with Bruce Wayne
You’re married, he stupidly accuses you of cheating and after much resistance, you finally give in and fuck it out…
“I won’t forgive you easily.” You say sure of your resolve, how naïve of you.
——
“Its not coming off.” You whisper to him in the darkness, speaking about your bra.
“want me to rip it?” He breathes against you and you hum in compliance. The clasps a tearing to his inhumane grip, fabric ripping as well.
“here..” you mutter, “touch me here, please,” you beg him. Tears on the verge of falling from your frustration. Using his finger to lift your chin, he kisses you, his warm lips pressing against yours and increasing the ball of heat. Which blazes through your whole body, a ball of heat and want. Sneaking his hands to your hips, he helps you straddle his lap as his rough palms move over your soft and smooth thighs. The kiss was slow but your moments were hasty, needy, your hand messing up his naturally styled hair as your tongues intertwine in the most sinful dance ever. Trailing the kisses down your chin to your neck, you take a breath and bite back a moan.
“hurry up.” Your voice breaks with the demand, you wouldn’t be surprised if he clowned you the next morning for all the whimpering you’re doing. Before you give him anymore leeway to touch and tease your body more, you slide down his shorts. And he pulls your panties aside in response, ridiculing your hole and pushing two fingers inside.
“you’re…so wet.” He thickly swallows, holding your hips still as he pushes them in and out.
Taking his fingers out you for good he’s hard, using the wetness he collected on his fingers to lube himself up. It not only made his cock strain but it made him twitch in anticipation. Pushing yourself up, he lines himself up with your hole. Resting your hands on his shoulders and sliding down, you stretch out as you sit inch by delicious inch.
“m’slow, baby…slowly.” He lets out in a labored breath, the silhouette of his head leaning back on the headboard. He is always horny, he just controls himself majority of the time. And you, without fail coax him out of his composed nature, turning him into a man with instincts once he gets you alone.
“oh..fuck.” Your breath shudders, hips rocking against him. This is all he wants. You on top of him, moaning and cursing from the pleasure. It makes his night after he spent so many nights cumming in his hand, looking at your sleeping body and wishing it was your cunt. All his anger towards the world disappears when he’s inside you.
Your soft palms move to his hair, so you can pull him closer. Shoving his face in your breasts. Shrieks leaving your vocal cords every other moment when he would push himself into you, deeper than you could ever do without help. He hums, his eyes not leaving yours. Though you could barely stay focused on his eyes, he never stopped looking into yours. Sitting up on the bed as your knees sink in to better hold yourself up, his hand slithers up your back. Making you jerk forward, boxing him in against the headboard and your boobs. Your hands moving from his hair to the headboard.
He mumbles under you and even if you could hear him its just incoherent nonsense he spurs out when he’s pussy drunk. His mouth latching on your nipple and sucking, all the while he is thrusting into you at a shattering pace. You can’t help but roll your eyes, moaning with no restraint.
You try to laugh at how much he’s enjoying this but your face twists at the pulls and pinches happening in your cervix. Breathing his name lowly as you cry out for him.
“bruce, hm’..” Your nails scratch visible marks into the wooden board as you slam yourself down to his balls, squeezing tightly on his cock, relieving yourself. His grip on your hip tightened as he moans, your warmth, sounds and ability of your body overwhelming him. Flipping you feverishly, he huffs over you, a surprised high pitched hum leaving your lips. Hands digging into his shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, then snapping them harshly beginning a rogue pace. Moving one hand to the top of the headboard, you use it as a cushion for your head as you body gets pushed upward.
“hah…my- my head.” Words totally escape you. He grunts, gripping the backs of your thighs and moving you both lower on the bed.
“you’re…” he starts, “so fuckin’..” in between, “pretty..” every thrust. “oh my god-” The moonlight illuminates his shadowy figure nicely, you watch as he roughly grips at his roots. Grabbing one of your ankles, you jump at the suddenness of it but melt into it as he rests it on his shoulder. Doing the same to your other leg. Stopping his rhythm completely.
“what’s wrong..?” You squeak at the pull in your legs, a bit of shuffling going on.
“nothin’…hmph..oh.” He says abruptly starting again, purposely putting all of his body weight on you to mush you into a mating press. Now babble was leaving your lips, a mix of no’s and yes’s, stuttering and stumbling over simple words and most of all whining. So much whining, and sharp breaths.
“yes, m’little wife,” you deliriously smile at the name.
“sorry…sorry..sorry, please! fuck.” you shout mindlessly, your nails finding the nearest pillow to dig into.
“who’s my little wife,” he sighs, grinding into you.
“no..o-oh my..fuck!” you put one hand against his chest, your lungs burning from the strain and gummy walls aching around him.
“don’t make me ask again..” he mutters in your ear, enjoying you cracking under the intensity.
“please…” you beg him, “it’s me-” you recite, giving in, “fuck! it’s me,” you gasp.
“say it” he bathes in your hiss of pain when he bites lightly into your neck.
“i’m your little wife!” your leg shakes against his head and you couldn’t be more ignorant to the pain, “your wife,” you cried out, “just your wife!” to the top of your exhausted lungs.
“..’m gonna cum-“ he rasps, slamming into you, over and over. Whining and letting all the slutty noises leave his lips. Only focused on getting off. Opening your mouth to intake more air, your labored breathing fills the air along with your skin clapping together in applause and his cute whining. Your chest heating up at your bodies moving the bed back and forth. His intimate and broken moans being the start of the end to his barbaric speed. The strength of his strokes increasing.
“ah..oh..shit,” he recites in a chant, swallowing his access spit. His hips sputtering to a stop as a line of curses leave his lips. Hot fluid burning the insides of your body, shooting into you, moaning lowly at the feeling of his hot semen in your cunt. Heavy breathing mixing together in a song of sex. Looking down at your spent body, he takes in your fucked out look. He knows it hasn’t been long but by the looks of it, you won’t last another round. Lifting up off of you, he gives both your legs a rest as he places them down gently at either side of him. Keeping his hands on your thighs to feel the violent shake.
“y-you ass-h-hole.” you hate when you stutter but you honestly couldn’t help it.
Your hands go limp at your sides as you relax, hesitantly reaching down to feel his cum leaking out your plugged pussy and a wet spot on the bed. You’re too surprised and caught up in the fact that you squirted and didn’t notice that he dipped off the bed.
“you okay?” he asks, coming back, wiping your inner thighs and legs. Humming to him, you smile in content. Rolling you on your side, he spoons you.
“Isn’t the bed wet.” you croak and he shakes his head, telling you it was is shirt that’s wet. Lying in the pillows, your eyelids shut as a loud yawn escapes your lips. The exhaustion in your body not helping you ignore the immense butterflies swirling in your abdomen as he rocks you to sleep.
The burn of the morning sun shocks you out your slumber, rolling into open arms, you mush your head into his shoulder. Deep chuckles rumbling his chest as he ruffles the sheets, shielding you beneath his pile of flesh.
“mornin’..” he slurs, his head pounding from the night before.
“good morning.” you bathe in his raspy morning voice, eating up the way his eyes identify all your facial features from the curves and creases of your lips to each darling hair of your eyebrows as if they’ve changed overnight.
Tilting your head up, you force your eyes open, blinking a few times to clear the blur and find his lips. Once, twice, thrice and smiling into the last one.
“how’s your legs.” he smirks at your unamused face, already knowing the answer to his teasing statement.
“you must get off from getting a rise out of me.”
A/n : I literally can’t stop taking huge breaks and its so bad. I’m changing up my formatting for my works if you couldn’t tell. I also might be publishing a Brahms story but then again who knows…
more of my writing
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yakumtsaki · 1 month
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Spice and Cyan are the last cousin-fuckers left standing and are proving impossible to break up. I'm inclined to blame the fact Sugar and June also had the hots for each other and passed these destructive genes on to these losers but whatever it is they're just annoyingly into each other.
Now I'm not gonna lie, I did almost waver cause I was like 'man you know what they're second cousins so at the end of the day truly who cares, maybe I should just let them stay together and create one Union super-bebe'.. and then I see this:
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In case you can't tell from this amazing screenshot they have ONE BOLT. ONE. ALL THIS DRAMA OVER ONE BOLT ARE YOU KIDDING ME
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-What is drama compared to someone you almost desire? -Oh baby, the mediocrity of my passion for you is too much to bear!
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-This lukewarm hot tub water is the perfect metaphor for our love.. -Exactly, it's the water of the womb and we all know that's where that sole bolt is even coming from!
UGH. Also man the difference between your noses is UNREAL, now I'm more worried about that if you procreate than the incest.
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-Hahahaha, as expected I'm the only one of this trash family that's in a non-disgusting relationship!
Felina no offense but you could afford to add some drama cause you've become boring af.
-People are sick of all this perverted nonsense! They want someone dignified and happily monogamous!
Ya idk sis, I mean look at Barth dislocating his entire spine as we speak:
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-I SENSE BETRAYAL AGAIN. WHO DARES CHEAT ON ME NOW
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-JIMMY, BACK IN THE ARMS OF MY COUSIN THAT I RIGHTFULLY STOLE YOU FROM. AND TO THINK I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU WHEN I WON THE HEIRSHIP
-You were??
-OF COURSE NOT
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Bro I can't, the entire house hates Barth other than Meadow and her billion nice points and Spice who is his childhood bestie. Note that he and Sunset have that goddamn amour fou and are independently becoming un-enemies, which I'm NOT GONNA LET HAPPEN.
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-Ok Barth, let's get drunk and make some reckless and sexy decisions!
SUNSET GODDAMMIT IT
-Why do you keep cockblocking us? You know our kids would be hot!
I DONT CARE
-Ya right! Don't act like you haven't thought about it!
IM NOT LISTENING TO THIS
-You know we would produce a hot, psycho turbo-Union! A little Jojo or Jojette, untainted by non-Union DNA, one freakshow to rule them all!! Look into your heart, you know it to be true!!!
ENOUGH, STOP TRYING TO SEDUCE ME WITH THE PROMISE OF COMICALLY INSANE OFFSPRING, SUNSET. EVERYONE FUCK OFF TO BED RIGHT NOW, GOODNIGHT
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-AND GOOD MORNING, LOSERS
WTF. Why are you here we've paid our bills!
-BUT YOU HAVEN'T PAID THE INCEST TAX
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-OMG THERE'S A FIRE🌞
-OMG THE REPOMAN IS HERE TO TAKE OUR SHIT
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-OMG THE STREAKER KILLED OUR FISH
What??
-I JUST DON'T WANNA ADMIT IM STILL CRYING OVER BARTHOLOMEW
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NOOOO NOT OUR BEAR STATUE WE'VE HAD IT SINCE GENERATION 1! PLEASE JUST TAKE ONE OF THE KIDS INSTEAD
-YOU SHOULD HAVE PAID YOUR BILLS
WE FUCKING DID
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-PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU FLOPS
FUCK YOU, REPOMAN, WE'RE NOT FLOPS
-WAAAAAAAAH I CAN'T BELIEVE HE TOOK OUR BEAR
Oh great, now half these flops are in aspiration failure, that's just what the doctor ordered.
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-OMG AND NOW THE OTHER PLANT IS ON FIRE
BRO WTF IS HAPPENING WE'RE CURSED
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-WE ARE AND WE ALL KNOW WHO'S TO BLAME
-HE'S BEEN BAD LUCK SINCE HE WAS BORN
-Can you harpies take this somewhere else, I'm trying to get high here!
-KILL HIM
OK NO. No one's killing anyone, we're NOT cursed, ok?
-We're broke, afflicted with a bills glitch, fires keep starting and half the house is in aspiration failure!
Well let's be real, the broke part is on you.
-US??
You idiots are averaging a D each semester because you're too busy fucking each other, beating each other up or both..
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..I mean freaking Jimmy is on academic probation, I have never gotten this before in all the years I've played this game, this is the worst college run of all time.
-WHAT IS YOUR POINT
My point is the bar is in hell so let's just get out of this run alive, ok? Now you kids make nice!
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-Well, Failina, now that I'm looking at you up close I guess putting lipstick on a pig does work sometimes.
-For my next move, I'll shove my queen in your other eyehole.
See, now isn't this nice? And I think I figured out what caused the bills thing so everything should be fine now..
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-THINK AGAIN BITCH
OH FFS
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-I'M HERE TO FREE THIS NEIGHBORHOOD FROM YOUR TERRIBLE SPOKEN WORD POETRY
Ok you know what I'm actually fine with that one, take it- Um do I hear hearts??
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UH WHAT????
-THAT'S RIGHT IM IN LOVE WITH KEA FOR NO CLEAR REASON
WTF
-We've been friends for a long time-
You have?? Man I really need to pay more attention around here.
-Yes well you can't help being useless!
Very true! Well please, continue, let me just call someone over-
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-YOU LEFT THE HOT TUB OF LUKEWARM LOVE TO CHEAT ON ME???
Man I know, it's so terrible! Anyway-
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-HOW DARE YOU BE UPSET WITH ME FOR CHEATING ON YOU
CYAN WTF LOL
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-YASSSS BEAT HIS ASS UP BABE HE DESERVES IT
DOES HE?? Cyan you are one crazy bitch, I love it.
-I take after my mom! :D
Which one, they're both insane! :D
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-What's it take to get your number? What's it take to bring you home? Hurry up, it's time for supper, order up, I'm hot to go🎵
Alright well Chapell karaoke seals it, Kea, welcome to the family!
-You mean it this time right, you won't fuck me over again like when I was engaged to Sophito?
LOL I forgot about that but no I'm certain this one is gonna work out, unless crazy ass Cyan goes back to one of her cousins
-What?
I said start planning the wedding!
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slytherinshua · 3 months
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A BIT TIPSY
genre. fluff. warnings. chanhee is very drunk. they're engaged. kissing. not proofread. pairing. fiancé!chanhee x fem!reader. wc. 796. request. for @heavenfilm who started this all 😞 a/n. inspired on this boylog where chanhee got very drunk and was just so cute :( ofc i had to feed into the delusions.
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“You’re so red, baby. How much did you drink?” You met eyes with your fiancé who stood in the doorway, clad in his pyjamas. His face was flushed bright pink and his eyes drooped down, threatening to close at any time. You had heard the drunken chatter of the boys in the kitchen, taking shots of soju and eating shrimp together. Chanhee had gotten the most drunk by far. You could easily tell by his voice leading the conversation, mostly consisting of nonsensical sentences leaving his mouth while Changmin, Eric and Juyeon tried to follow along. He was a handful when drunk.
“Just a tiny bit.” Chanhee giggled, stumbling forward until he reached the bed. He landed messily, his head falling right in your lap. He didn’t bother trying to sit up, deciding that how he landed was entirely on purpose and your lap was far too comfortable to leave in any case.
“Looks like it was a lot more than a tiny bit.” You pointed out.
“Fine. But I’m not drunk!” He insisted, raising his head to meet your eyes as if it would prove his point.
“Sure you’re not.” You teased, brushing some of his black hair to the side, revealing his pink forehead. 
“You don’t believe me.” He frowned. He could still read you so easily even when drunk. He wasn’t going to be fooled by you playing along to his declaration. 
“You need sleep, Chanhee, love.” You knew he wouldn’t listen to you immediately. But from how inebriated he was, you were sure he was going to crash soon. 
Just as expected, he shook his head immediately, “I’m not tired.” You scoffed at his slurred words. He had been doing MV shoots for the last 3 days and was out shopping all day in Jeju. He texted you how exhausted he was hours ago. Anyone would be able to see the blatant lie.
Chanhee really did need sleep, even if he said he didn’t. If he was going to ignore your first suggestion, you would have to switch to other means. Bribery usually worked with him, drunk or sober.
“If I give you a kiss will you go to sleep?” You asked, smiling when his eyebrows furrowed at your question. He lifted his head from your lap, glancing up at you to make sure you were serious about your suggestion before sitting up fully.
“A real kiss? You won’t trick me with just a peck, right?” He pouted, and you laughed. How could he look so cute? Face all flushed, a sulky expression adorning it, and messy hair completing the look.
“I won’t.”
“Promise? Pinky promise?!” He was trying to sound as serious as possible, but given the way his words slurred together, he just sounded like he was running on 1 working brain cell. Which was probably the case.
“Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky to him, letting him link it with his and stamp your thumbs.
“If you break your promise, I’m getting a divorce.” He warned you, “Cheating your husband out of kisses is the worst offence.” He whispered the last part as he neared your lips. 
You wanted to remind him that you weren’t actually married yet, and so it was impossible for him to divorce you if you broke the promise, but his lips stopped you from getting any other words out. The taste of soju lingered on his lips, but you were going to keep your word. You let him kiss you as long as he wanted to, soon getting used to the scent and taste of alcohol that was left from his lips. When he finally broke off the kiss, he seemed extremely satisfied that you had kept your promise.
“I knew my wife wouldn’t be cheap. Now we can stay married forever!” He said excitedly. You nodded along to his words with an endeared smile on your face. It warmed your heart to hear him address you as his wife, even if you hadn’t made it official quite yet.
“You’re gonna keep up your end of the deal too, right?” You reminded Chanhee, giggling when his smile slowly turned into a pout again.
“Fine, only because I love you.” He settled down without any further protest, though he did insist that it was his turn to be the little spoon. You expected he would fall asleep quickly, but you underestimated just how quickly. He was out almost as soon as he closed his eyes. 
You hugged him tightly and listened to his steady breathing. It relaxed you to a state of drowsiness as well. You were left to think about his drunken words again in your head, butterflies tingling in your stomach when you remembered how the word “wife” sounded from his mouth. 
↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,
@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,
@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows
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crazyaboutto · 2 months
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The pain of being a book reader that’s been made into a show
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The writers and directors literally have completed series in their hands. They have the writer’s feedback as well or at least they initially said so in season 1.
Why the fuck are they deviating from canon so much? I’m trying to think HOTD as high budgeted fan fiction but damn it’s so hard. You’re getting paid a lot and working on one of the most well known series and you just fuck up
I was already pissed with Aegon’s dream nonsense as well as Rhaenys bursting out of coronation just for shock value but it’s going downhill fast. That dream leads to absolutely nothing. We don’t even have NK like the GOT version in the books. Also, still prefer book version of Alicent both age and character wise.
It was so fast paced in season 1 and now they’re dragging the story. They’re also deviating from the canon a lot
Why does Alicent actually believe “that’s what Viserys wanted”? She wants the throne for her bloodline and that’s it. It’s her wish for power, not for actually believing in whatever Viserys was saying.
It also feels like Rhaenyra would be fine with Aegon’s usurping if Luke didn’t die. She is the throne. The war started when the greens hid the death of the king.
Why is Daemon tripping for so long? He took harrenhall and that’s it. He raised the armies 3 times before the Dance. He’s a fearsome and competent general but he’s basically just a random dude who took acid trips. Ryan saying Daemon doesn’t have the skill set to raise an army lmao give me a break
Perhaps, they do not want to show cruel side of Rhaenyra by ordering the death of Nettles and not harming Daemon after Mysaria told Rhaenyra? on one hand, Daemon might have cheated with Nettles, or it was father-daughter relationship like Mushroom thinks. It feels like they’re wasting our time with Daemon’s trips like him fucking his mother nonsense to erase Nettles.
Why are they trying to erase the connection between Valyrian and dragons? No normal person can bond with a dragon. Be it Valeryon or Targaryen, you need Valyrian blood. And the whole stupid “illusion” thing in the show.
They also wasted Laena so badly in season 1. If they’re all for sapphic representation instead of just creating buzz on internet, they could have gone for Laena x Rhaenyra moments. I’m not even sure if the adult versions were on screen together. Soon after we got older Laena, she died. It’s literally book canon that Rhaenyra was “very fond” of Laena. It’s also pretty much implied that there were things between them and ot3 with Daemon
Not to mention they erased the lesbian fighter character who loves killing men and kissing women. I’m talking about Sabitha (Frey) and her lover Alysanne Blackwood. Would rather (want to) see them acting like they’re “very close friends” than a Alicole sex scene
We don’t even have Daeron lol
We haven’t seen Haelena’s mourning well instead we saw random things. Blood and Cheese wasn’t even done properly. If you’re slowing down the pace and will end the Dance in season 3, at least show more of Haelena’s mourning. Show the sibling interactions between the greens.
Another thing, who the hell is Aeriana? Her?
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I’m just reminded of how after the books ended, D&D took liberties with characters and we got the clusterfuck of season 7-8. Now I feel like they’ll do the same thing in season 3
And I fear what they’ll do with Aegon the conqueror. Like maybe he tricked Visenya and Rhaenys into marrying him and conquering the 7 kingdoms? Maybe the sisters didn’t want to kill but were forced to because they’re such angels? Or Visenya can’t fight well
Why does HBO keep making shows about the house it abhors?
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merakiui · 2 years
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yandere!Azul thought 4: what starts as a contract for no strings attached intimacy soon turns into something complicated when you find yourself swept up in a certain cecaelia’s charm, unaware of just how deep his love swims.
(cw: yandere, nsfw, female reader, contractual fwb, mention of blackmail, attempted sexual assault (from nameless student, not azul), obsession, pregnancy mentions, characters written as 18+)
“It’ll be easier if you stop struggling,” Floyd grumbles, his fingers digging into your arm with so much force you think he might snap the bone. “Jaaade, tell our shrimpy to stop squirming so much!”
Jade smiles at his brother’s whining, feigning blissful ignorance to your current predicament. “It would be in your best interest to relax. Broken limbs are not a pleasant experience.”
“Neither is kidnapping! I already told you I didn’t do anything. I never even signed a contract.”
“Not yet.” He peers down at you, challenging you with a single yellow eye. “Although we can’t ignore it when a precious friend fails to heed Azul’s summons. That’s not very polite, is it? And since you’ve chosen to be oh-so-cruel, we have no choice but to resort to similar treatment.”
You gaze into his mismatched eyes, brows furrowed in annoyance. “You’re the worst.”
“I don’t think you qualify as the best in this scenario.”
“Azul just wants to have a simple chat with you. No need to be such a meanie,” Floyd adds, forcing you upright when you begin to drag your feet. His sharp teeth wink at you when he grins, and it’s enough of a threat to cow you into temporary submission.
As you allow yourself to be escorted through the grand, aquatic halls of Octavinelle, where you pass fellow dorm members going about their day through a magnificent glass tunnel, you know deep in your heart that this ‘simple chat’ will be anything but simple. They hardly pay you any mind; most avert their eyes as to not get caught up in whatever nonsense you’re currently bound to. The Leech twins are enough of a repellant. Stay away if you value your skeletal structure and unblemished skin, their combined presence boasts. You stare at the ocean that sprawls beyond the confines of the dorm, its depths dark and spiraling and tempting.
I wonder how much force you’d have to apply to the glass before it shatters, you think, coveting a means of acquiring superhuman strength to test your curiosity. Maybe the glass can’t be broken after all and I’d end up looking as graceful as a mer-turned-human trying to walk on land for the first time.
You’ve learned that it’s not so frightening to be approached by the Leech twins when you’re on pleasant terms and they’re not actively tugging you along like you’re nothing more than a weightless rag doll. Unfortunately, this is their usual treatment of those who try to evade payment or break the terms of their contracts. Even though you haven’t done anything of the sort, they’re still pulling you into the gilded lair that is the Mostro Lounge. Apparently—according to your most benevolent friends at Octavinelle—ghosting Azul is just as sinful as cheating your way out of a contract.
You try to stay away from the suspicious dealings that happen in Azul’s VIP room when you can, but it’s only a matter of time before it catches up to you. Perhaps this is your day of reckoning and you ought to start counting your blessings and penning a will with what little time you have left.
Aside from ignoring him, you’re not sure why he would be so insistent on meeting with you. Azul’s ire is not something you wish to toy with, lest you enjoy the coils of two dangerous eels. You surmise you’ll get your answer to every burning question once you’re seated in front of him, listening to the twins’ footsteps as they click out the door.
There’s no time to get a breath in before Azul’s own confidence fills the room like hot air, stifling any excuses you might’ve had at the ready. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and, with the lenses glinting under the dazzling light, he declares, “Let’s make a deal.”
What a greeting. He’s really something. You’d throttle him if you could, but then you’d probably find yourself at Floyd’s mercy as he returns the favor.
“Not happening.”
Azul sighs and runs a hand through his silver hair, so deceptively soft it reminds you of clouds and candy floss and cotton—gentle things that shouldn’t contain razor blades. And yet, when it comes to Azul, he’s a sea sponge full of hidden tricks and sharp objects. But right now he’s not wearing his fedora or coat, and he’s a portrait of defeat as he looks into your eyes. An inkling of sympathy bubbles up in your chest. It must be tough managing academics, a café, and everyone’s wishes in order to maintain a benevolent façade. But you know better than to feel bad for Azul Ashengrotto—someone who would trade you in an instant if it was to his benefit. So you find yourself slumping in the chair, no longer interested in the deal he’s trying to proposition or the sad image he’s carefully manufactured for your discerning eyes.
I should’ve known this was his goal. Was it really worth dragging me out of Ramshackle for?
“I ask that you hear me out.”
“If you had Jade and Floyd bring me here—against my will, might I add—just so you could get me to sign one of your scummy contracts…”
“I can assure you it will be worth your while.”
Now it’s your turn to sigh. “All right. Fine. But make it quick. I’m hungry.”
It can’t hurt to hear him out. Or so you think.
He grins, but there’s something lurking in his elated countenance that puts you on edge. He leans forward, hands steepled and elbows propped on the surface of his desk. Azul is in his element—a businessman profiting from shiny half-truths, and you’re the poor soul he’s ready to entrap.
“It seems you run a special sort of…trade among the student body here.”
You raise a brow. If he intends to squash your side hustle, you won’t allow it. 
“Don’t tell me the services I’m offering are stealing your customers.”
“Certainly not.” He chuckles, but the amusement does not reach his eyes. “Sex sells. I couldn’t possibly compete with such a grand industry.”
“Get to the point, Azul.”
“Very well. I would like to enlist your services for myself.”
“I’m guessing there’s more to it than that. Let’s see the contract, then.”
Its golden shine nearly blinds you, so bright you could mistake it for a miniature sun. The terms have been written in neat, curling script. At the very bottom of the document that tempting line sits, empty and awaiting a signature. You scan the words, but none of them truly register within your mind.
“You had a field day writing this one,” you mutter. “If you wanted a handjob, you could’ve just asked. I shouldn’t have to sign a contract for a simple exchange.”
Octavinelle’s charitable Housewarden bristles at your forthright statement. “That is not the point! Did you even read the clauses outlined in the contract?”
“Not really. Care to elaborate?” You bat your eyelashes at him, lips turning downward in an innocent pout.
Rolling his eyes, he says, “In exchange for your services, I will grant any wish or desire you may have. Whatever it is—no matter how complicated or outrageous it seems—I’ll see to it.”
You swipe the contract from off his desk and read through it closely. This time the sentences click and you eye him with suspicion. “In other words, you want casual sex. This wouldn’t be a one-time thing.”
“If you consider it from both sides, it’s mutually beneficial. Sexual endeavors have been proven to reduce stress, improve one’s mental and physical health, and—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get that, but I’d only be servicing you. According to this clause, I wouldn’t be allowed to see anyone else for however long this deal lasts.”
“That’s only fair, is it not? If I dedicate my time to meeting your demands, you should dedicate your time to servicing me.”
“That’s not how this works. Besides, if I wanted to toe the line of lustful romance I’d have come to you already.”
“Oh? Are you saying I’m a prime candidate for what you humans call ‘holiday flings’? Well, (Name), I’m honored. Truly. You know you can always come to me if—”
“And now you’ve made it to the bottom of the list. Congrats.”
You glance at the contract once more and frown. There’s no denying that some of these terms are questionable. Not only are you unable to service the other students, you’d also have to keep the relationship a secret. You suppose Azul still wants to retain his current reputation without the tarnish that comes with a contractual fuck buddy. Who are you to decline, though? It would be reasonable if it weren’t for Azul’s tendency to cheat others and find tight loopholes to slip through. And he’s attractive enough. It’s a tempting exchange: sex for money, food, academic help, anything at all.
“Is there a limit to the amount of wishes you’re willing to grant?”
“We’ll do it this way—one wish for every meeting. You’re free to be as greedy as you’d like with your wishes. I suggest you make the most of this offer. It’s only available for a limited time.”
“Huh. That’s…weirdly generous of you.”
“I’m delighted you think so.” He indicates the pot of ink sitting atop his desk. “Well? Are the terms acceptable? If they are, just sign on the line and it’ll be a done deal.”
“Hold on. I never said I’d sign your contract. It’s not a bad offer, but I don’t want to subject myself to your wrath or the Leech brothers’ methods of…negotiation if I break any of the terms. I like my bones healthy and intact, thank you.” You set the contract scroll back on his desk, content with your decision. It’s better to play it safe, no matter how intrigued you are. “If you really want it, just pay me and we can—”
“That’s not enough,” he snaps. You’re not sure if you heard correctly because moments later his dark expression brightens and all traces of envy vanish like a curtain of rain parting to reveal a rainbow. “I understand your hesitance, considering my reputation has its shadows. But what is a risk without its possible reward? I can assure you these terms are honest and sincere. It’s in the writing, after all.”
“So it’s just a contract for sex? I don’t have to act like your girlfriend or anything?”
“Not unless you want to.”
Your narrowed gaze pierces him, as if to peer at the core of his soul, but you can’t dissect his angle. It’s difficult to imagine Azul’s contracts as straightforward deals with no strings attached, but then again he’s still just like the rest of the students here. He has his own cravings and you’re the only female on campus, a blessing that has come with its fair share of boons. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to go through with this. You might even be able to procure lots of premium tuna for Grim and some promising study guides for your friends, who most certainly need it after their most recent scores.
“If I sign this contract, how long would this arrangement last?”
“Two months.”
“Two months,” you parrot slowly, tasting each letter. “Two months?”
“Is that not agreeable? I’m certain I can offer you much more than whatever pocket change the others give you.”
It’s a fair point. You’re not trying to sell yourself cheap, but you’re not picky either. You’re willing to accept any form of payment, even though Madol is always preferred. After all, you need to make enough for you and Grim to be able to afford the expenses of campus life. This deal with Azul could easily solve some of the monetary issues you’re facing, especially since Grim’s bottomless stomach is the reason your budget is dwindling.
He sits there, hands clasped, and waits patiently for your reply. Awkward tension thickens in the air as the both of you stare at one another, challenging the other to speak up. Eventually, Azul decides to fill in the empty silence with his own smooth voice.
“In exactly two months, it’ll be the fourteenth of February. Or, coincidentally enough, Valentine’s Day. That is when this deal shall come to an end, regardless of where we may stand. You won’t owe anything. That’s something I can promise.”
“Not unless I violate the terms. Speaking of which, some of them are…strange.” You indicate a specific clause hidden amongst the paragraphs of swirling cursive. “Like this one. I’m not allowed to say ‘I love you’ once the contract has been signed. Why’s that?”
Azul follows your pointing finger and hums as he reviews the paragraph. “It would be troublesome if you fell for me. Using that pretty voice of yours to confess your true feelings—what a devious scandal! All of the students who lust after you would be utterly heartbroken and we can’t have that now, can we? It’s best if you keep your voice for other admissions, lest you find it locked away for all of eternity.”
“You really hold yourself high, don’t you? I’m not in love with you, so don’t flatter yourself.”
It’s difficult to make out most of the words in that clause because they’re all bunched up and connected with fancy loops and curls. Even though you consider yourself to be somewhat decent at interpreting cursive, the writing on this contract is almost foreign to your eyes. You’re not quite sure what happens if those three words are spoken, but it can’t be anything positive if it’s outlined so extensively.
“It’s all right if you refuse,” he adds. “Although it would be a shame if your private endeavors intersected with your school life. Good grades are not easy to come by if you slack, but I’m sure you’re aware of this.” His smile is sharp and wicked. You feel it’ll cut into you if you stare for too long. “Should you find yourself in the academic deep end, you’re more than welcome to come to me. I’ll always be here to assist you.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“It would be even more unfortunate if the fools who believe in your fake love learned of your nonexistent loyalty.” He tilts his head, amusement waltzing across his face like a ballerina on a glittering stage. “Photographic evidence is very reliable. I wonder how fast those bridges will burn once they realize you’re only with them for materialistic gain. Love is not easy to come by, but you seem to dish it out with ease. Isn’t that curious?”
“Now you’re just reaching. You don’t have any photos.”
“Perhaps you’re correct and this serves as an empty threat meant to coerce you into signing.” He pushes the pot of ink towards your reaching hand, fishbone pen within your grasp. “But that also means there’s still a chance they exist. It would be fry’s play to let something so fragile slip from my hands. I imagine every romantic who’s clung to you like seaweed won’t enjoy the sight. A scorned man is rather troublesome, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Some of them pay a lot! I need that money. You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Who am I kidding? Of course he’d do that to me.
“It can be avoided, so long as you provide your signature. A small price to pay to prevent irreparable damage.”
Seconds tick between the two of you. Your gaze drifts from him to the contract.
It’s not so bad, the tiny voice in the back of your head pipes up, and you don’t have the heart to smother it. It speaks nothing but the truth. Two months can get you a lot. Expensive things, Grim’s premium tuna, yummy snacks, resources to cover rent and maintenance... And all you’d have to do is spend an hour or two with him.
“Okay. All right. Fine! Two months and that’s it.” You swipe the pen from his desk, dip its pointed tip in the ink, and scrawl your name on the line. “You’re lucky I’m desperate.”
“Desperation is a businessman’s closest ally.” He meets your fierce glower with a bright smile. The contract is snatched from your hands and rolled up, an important document that will no doubt find its home in the darkness of his vault. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you. I look forward to what’s to come.”
You wish you could say the same.
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Two months. It’s an odd timeframe for something that shouldn’t have an exact timeframe at all, but this is purely contractual and you can’t expect this exchange with Azul to last forever. You suppose that if you accept your temporary fate and agree to the role you’re meant to play the days will pass quickly—fleeting moments that dissolve like sugar on your tongue. And it might even be enjoyable if you focus on the good things rather than the dangers lurking beneath the charming surface.
Azul calls you into his VIP room four days later. It’s quite the hassle walking to the Hall of Mirrors and excusing yourself from every conversation that springs upon you. You never realized just how many guys you’ve formed one-sided relationships with, and it’s a thought that lingers in your mind as you polish off what remains of a bag of gummy candies.
By the time you’ve arrived at the Mostro Lounge, seated before Azul and awaiting a command like a well-trained pet, you’re already reflecting on the contrition that comes with hasty decisions.
Let this be a lesson learned, you tell yourself. Think a little more before acting.
“So.” You admire the shell lamp on his desk, if only to occupy yourself. It curls into a smooth, cream-colored spiral. “What do you want? Office sex? A blowjob? Want me to hold your hand while you work through all that paperwork? I’m good at moral support, you know.”
He narrows his eyes at you, unamused. “The winter holiday is approaching. I’m assuming you have no plans.”
“None at all. You’ll probably go back to the Coral Sea, won’t you?”
“I’d rather not deal with the ice and frigid, sunless waters unless it’s absolutely necessary. Besides, I couldn’t leave you here while we’re in the midst of an arrangement. What sort of gentleman would I be?”
“How chivalrous.” You roll your eyes. “But it’s boring to stay on campus if everyone’s going home for the holidays.”
“Are you proposing we go somewhere?”
"It would be fun. I’ll bring Grim and we can go somewhere cozy. You can make that happen, right?”
“Of course I can,” he says flatly. “Must you bring that nuisance, though?”
“Grim’s my friend. You can bring Jade and Floyd if you want. I don’t care.”
His gaze shifts from you to the papers littering his desktop and you realize you’ve lost him.
“Or we could go. Just the two of us. Make it a private trip…” Every syllable is like acid in your mouth. “A resort would be nice.”
“Most resorts are booked for the holidays. It would be difficult to make a reservation now.”
“Then we’ll stay here.”
Somehow this feels more like a discussion between indecisive lovers instead of two acquaintances who are now contractual friends with benefits. Perhaps this entire act is nothing more than a circus and you’ll be destined to spend the next two months with a metaphorical clown nose and a gnawing sense of idiocy.
“If you’re truly invested in a resort trip, I could see what’s available. The timing is poor, but there’s always a way around these things.”
“It’s not a big deal. Staying here won’t be so bad either.” You fidget in your seat, not accustomed to casual talk with Azul. The both of you aren’t best friends, but you aren’t complete strangers either. You were there to witness his rise and fall firsthand and it’s something that brought the two of you slightly closer in the aftermath. But you wouldn’t say that you hang out with him as often as you do with your other friends. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
Azul glances up at you from his paperwork, pen poised in his delicate hand. “Not quite. We have yet to discuss boundaries.”
“I think I’d be okay with anything as long as it’s safe and we talk about it beforehand. What about you?”
“Anything related to my mer form is off the table.”
It sounds like he might add ‘for now’ to that sentence, but he shuts his mouth and continues to write.
“That’s fine. As long as you’re comfortable.” You flash him an encouraging smile. “If it makes you feel better, we can take this thing slowly. We have two whole months, after all.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be a terrible idea...”
“We don’t have to rush into anything if you’re uncertain...or inexperienced.” Your compassionate grin quickly morphs into a playful smirk. “Making a fool out of yourself wouldn’t be a good look for you, would it? An inexperienced Azul must be a marvelous sight to behold.”
“I enlisted your services, not a clownfish who likes to run her mouth,” he says with a scoff. “And I’m plenty experienced, I’ll have you know.”
“With your hands and imagination, I’m sure.” He shoots you another look and you raise your arms in surrender, a laugh spilling from your lips. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be serious from now on.”
“You are so—” He shakes his head. “Honestly...”
The way in which he practically sighs the word sparks an odd sort of curiosity within you. You’ve never been privy to Azul behind closed doors—the Azul who tears his heavily guarded walls down when he has no need for masks. If you could pry him open like a clam and peer at the vulnerable pearl that lies within, you might come to understand him more than you did before. You hope that’s what you’ll glean from doing so because even though you’re bound to him via contract you want to get a better analysis of him.
“We have to start somewhere,” you say, admiring the way his hand moves effortlessly across paper. You’d like to charm him into comfort because, despite the nature of this agreement, you wish to be comfortable, too.
He risks a sideways glance at you, trapped between paperwork and persuasion. His fingers tighten around his pen ever so slightly and you don’t miss his searching eyes as they come to rest on your lips. You shed all of your apprehensions at once because this is business and you can’t let fear cloud your sensibility as you move forward in your performance, seeking his approval and satisfaction. A deal is a deal, after all, and your signature is a testament to that.
No turning back now.
“Do your kisses taste like salt, or will they be sweet like sugar?” It’s a silly question—an icebreaker, if anything—but it has him quirking a halfhearted smile. Part of you hopes he’ll divulge more details on the nature of his kisses, even if the act of kissing is something you’re well-versed in and have done enough times for it to be routine.
“You’ll have to decide for yourself.”
You rise from your seat. Each deliberate step brings you closer to Azul until, eventually, you’re standing before him like a sinner on trial. He gazes up at you and there is a hint of subdued anticipation in his expression. When his hand finds the small of your back, your fingers ghost over it and guide it to your waist. Azul squeezes your hip, almost experimentally, before he yanks you onto his lap.
You lean in until your nose is touching his, legs straddling him, and wrap your arms around his neck.
“This is okay, right?”
“Of course,” he murmurs, nearly dazed as his fingers trace your hip, mapping the curvature like a painter’s expert brushstroke. “It’s more than okay.”
“Captivated so soon? I guess my charm really is irresistible.”
You wink at him and he responds by tilting his head to seal the distance between the two of you. His kisses do not taste of the briny, tumultuous ocean. Rather, they taste of tea and you envision an overgrown field of wildflowers as you savor the floral notes on his lips. His other hand comes to rest upon your back as he holds you against him, unwilling to let your bodies part, and your hands find purchase in his hair, fingers running through silvery locks with exploratory intent. Azul sighs into your mouth, melting like a glacier.
“Well?” His lips are centimeters from yours. You curl a strand of his hair around your finger, enchanted by its softness. “What’s your deduction?”
“Tea. And not the cheap kind.”
His trademark smirk tugs at his lips. “You taste of…candy.” As a cheeky afterthought, he adds, “The cheap kind.”
“You’re right on the money, but maybe the benevolent Azul Ashengrotto is okay with cheap.” You pluck his glasses from his face and gingerly place them on the desk behind you. “For today, at least.”
His sarcastic retort is swallowed in another smoldering kiss, and as your panting breaths are stolen by greedy lips that pursue your own whenever you pull away for a momentary respite, you can’t help musing how good he is. In the back of your mind, you ponder whether he’s had practice or if this is all some primal instinct that’s been embedded since birth. It’s hard to imagine Azul locking lips with his pillow as if it’s a real, tangible person, and it’s a humorous thought that spurs you onwards in your endeavors. You tug on his hair, intending to dig as deep as you can in search of every touch Azul finds pleasurable. You seem to have found the correct spot, for he grips you more forcefully, groaning against your teeth.
By the time you’ve mussed his hair and shared more than a few sloppy kisses, you separate yourself from him. His arms shoot out to hold you in place and his glazed eyes hold a strange glint of fear—as if he’s just come down from a glorious high and has fallen prey to encroaching paranoia.
“Someone likes kissing,” you tease, evading his hand as he reaches for your uniform shirt with the intent to tug you against him for the passion he so desperately yearns for.
He hums his agreement and allows his palm to find the side of your face instead, cradling it as if it’s fragile porcelain. His thumb traces your jaw in smooth circles and you lean into the warmth, unaccustomed to such a careful touch. The fabric of his glove is a welcome embrace.
“You’re soft.” The mumbling is wrapped in honeyed cumulus. “So soft…”
You’d be softer if he disposed of the gloves.
The tenderness with which he regards you spills into your cracked heart, and for a moment you’re certain this is the real Azul. Or, at the very least, a fraction of his true personality—one that has lost its barbs and deception and is deliciously honest. But it could just be wishful thinking, a mere delusion resulting from some sort of phantom decompression sickness.
Your hand travels down the expanse of his chest, feeling fine fabric rustle beneath your palm, and you stop just above the strain in his pants. Azul is broken from his lustful stupor, having returned to this plane of reality by gentle, wandering hands.
“Is this okay? Or is it too sudden?” You feel obligated to ask because it eases your nerves. You’re not sure why you’re on edge, but your conscious suspects it’s because the private sight before you should be off-limits. In this moment Azul is a portrait framed in dappled light and you are simply observing him from afar, unable to touch him without direct approval, lest you find your wrist snatched by a protective curator. “We can stop here if you don’t want—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” 
That’s all the confirmation you need.
So you slide off of him with the grace of a cat, catching his gaze as if it’s a luminous firefly you intend to bottle. Where there was once fright, there is now a desire spiraling in his stormy blues. It’s a look you’ve seen on many students when you admired them during your salacious exchanges, but none wear it quite like Azul. Even when his face matches the shade of cherries—even when his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his hair is tousled and clothes wrinkled—he still resembles seraphic perfection, and it’s so alluring that you practically dive into his ocean eyes, sinking deeper towards a yawning maw that houses a lurking monster.
As you lower to your knees, expert fingers working to unzip his trousers, you realize you want to meet that beast, if only to stare him in the face and ask why he chooses to cloak himself in shadows despite his radiance.
Once you’ve freed his length from the confines of his boxers, you admire its generous size and girth, smiling at the slight upwards curvature. Gazing at Azul, who’s watching with so much intensity you’d think he’s trying to ascertain whether this moment is real or fake, you press your lips against the head of his cock. It’s a delicate gesture that has him turning away from you, a hand flying up to muffle his voice.
“You can look,” you tell him, hoping it sounds like a suggestion. “There’s no need to shy away.”
You drag your tongue along it, which earns you a shudder, and lick the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip. For a second you pull back and, without ceremony, spit into your hand. That has Azul’s head snapping in your direction, a mixture of confusion and disgust crossing his countenance.
“What?” You blink at him.
“Why—” He pauses to clear his throat, rebuilding his default persona with practiced finesse. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t think you have any lube around, so saliva will have to suffice. Even though it’s not as effective...”
“You humans are so peculiar with your use of fluids,” he mutters, but there’s a spot of intrigue in his tone.
“We’re insane,” you exaggerate with a chuckle.
You’re leaning in again, wrapping your slick fingers around the base of his cock. You aren’t surprised to learn how well-groomed he is, and for half a beat envy strikes you. His life seems so whole—so put together and flawless, even down to the dick you put your lips on. You almost wish it were like that for you; you wish things weren’t a fractured puzzle with missing pieces. It’s a desire you can’t force, unfortunately, because Crowley has yet to discover a way to send you back to your world. For now you can only hold onto hope as you distract yourself with the friends you’ve made so far.
You wonder how long you’ll have to spend in Twisted Wonderland before you start to accept it. Maybe you’ll reject the notion of returning home when it’s finally presented to you in the future. If it’s ever presented.
A strangled gasp slips from Azul and it frees you from your melancholy. With dainty strokes, you take your time fitting him in your mouth, only stopping at where your hand rests halfway, and bob your head back and forth. The rhythm is easy to settle into, and it has Azul sucking in sharp breaths as his hands clutch helplessly at the armrests of his chair. Your other hand crawls up his leg until it reaches his thigh, and you pat it in an effort to coax him into shameless enjoyment. Just relax, you want to tell him. His hand grasps yours, fingers interlacing.
This is new, you think, looking at him through your lashes.
In all the blowjobs you’ve given whilst at this school, you’ve never once held hands during it. But if that’s what Azul wants, you’ll accept it without criticism. Bare skin meets the fabric of his glove and it reminds you that there’s still a barrier between the two of you. There are many, actually, and you’ve only crossed the first threshold.
Your hand squeezes his length in a tighter hold and that prompts a low moan from the depths of his throat. It’s a beautiful sound, and you hope to hear more of him as he unravels before you—a perfect ball of yarn fraying at temptation’s doorstep.
“For today…” His words are coated in lust and pronounced in a hiss. “For today—ah, no—for two months, you’re mine and no one else’s.”
You hum your compliance and the vibration causes him to tighten his grip on your hand just as another moan tumbles from his kissable lips. Had he not been wearing pristine gloves, his fingernails would have surely dug into your skin, but you wouldn’t have minded the rough treatment. You’ve encountered all sorts of temperaments at this school, some more hostile than others. You can handle a little bruising. 
Your lips come off of him with a wet pop, and you lick a stripe up the underside of his dick before placing another gentle kiss to the tip. You open your eyes to gauge his reaction. Deep crimson has settled onto his cheeks and is climbing to his ears, and even when he seems trapped in his own haze he’s ethereal under the blue hues of his VIP room. You hold his stare as you close your mouth around him once more and resume the slow, sensual pace you’ve adopted since you started. His other hand cards through your scalp and for a moment you think he might force you to take all of him at once, so you prepare yourself for the mouthful. But then he brushes a few stray strands from your face, delicate as a butterfly’s wings, and you don’t feel the stretch as his cock is shoved to the back of your throat. Instead, he allows you to take as much of him as you’d like, opting to utilize a fistful of your hair to prevent you from detaching yourself. And if you really focus on his treatment, it’s almost as if he’s petting you. Carefully. Mindfully. Sweetly.
Oh.
Oh.
You’d thank him if you could, but that’s not possible when your mouth is full. And so you opt to show your gratitude in another way—a way that’s wringing him of every delicious sound you’ve ever heard him make. It’s almost criminal you’ve yet to hear such saccharine love cries spill from his lips, as plentiful as a rushing waterfall, and it’s all due to the pretty contract you signed. You put more effort into the speed at which you savor him, letting a few moans slip through for the fun of it, and Azul hisses out a colorful word that doesn’t quite reach your ears.
You feel almost lucky to experience this secret side of him.
“It’s a shame this mouth has tasted so many others…” he grumbles and you choose to ignore the complaint, only opening your ears to his breathless gasps and groans.
Azul squeezes your hand with so much force it feels as if he’s trying to tear it from your wrist. He’s caught between moaning and babbling nonsense, incoherent praises pouring from his silver tongue like raindrops on a dreary day, and all it takes are a few expert strokes and your talented, hollowed mouth and he’s crying out in ecstasy as he shoots his creamy load down your throat. You pull off of him, cum dribbling past your lips, and your tongue slips out to collect it before it can stain the floor.
“Wait, hold on! You don’t have to—” He stops mid-sentence as he watches you swallow it all in one gulp, unbothered by the consistency and taste. “Swallow… Ah, my apologies. H-Here.” He fishes through his pocket and produces a silken handkerchief from within.
You take it from him, marveling at its softness, and dab at your slick lips. “Thanks.”
“Consider it remuneration for…that.” He clears his throat and retrieves his glasses before working to clean himself with another handkerchief. “An even exchange, if you will.”
You exhale through your nose, amused. “It was like salty pudding. Kind of, but not really. I’ll know for sure next time we do it.”
“I beg your pardon?” He’s fit himself back into his boxers, trousers zipped and adjusted appropriately. He’d look presentable if it weren’t for his tousled hair and rumpled uniform, evidence of the past few minutes, but even then he’s still a pleasant sight for your eyes.
“Your semen.”
He absorbs your words and then flusters. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t compare it to pudding.”
“I think it’s fine. Your kisses are sweet and flowery and your cum is salty like the ocean. It’s a good balance between—”
He coughs, rather loudly, and you replace your words with jovial laughter. Rising to your feet, you hold his handkerchief out to him, suppressing a playful smile. He takes it from you and folds it into a neat square before placing it on his desk.
“Well, I hope today was satisfactory. You have my Magicam handle, right? Just message me on there whenever you want to do this again.”
“You’re leaving?”
You stare at him. “There’s no reason to stay. Plus, I have to make sure Grim did Professor Crewel’s homework.”
“At the very least, allow me to prepare some tea for you. I’m certain the taste in your mouth can’t be very appealing.”
“I find it’s quite the delicacy, actually,” you tease. “But what’s the catch?”
Now it’s his turn to ogle, brow furrowed as if he doesn’t quite understand the implications of your question.
“The catch. Nothing’s free here.”
“Oh. Right. Well.” He stands from his seat, smooths the wrinkles in his outfit, and adds, “Do you wish to have tea at this moment?”
“Sure, if you’re offering I don’t mind—wait. Wait!”
“And there we have it. Your first wish and it’s so simple. I hardly have to exert any energy.” He flashes his pearly whites at you in a smirk that’s more teeth than lip. “You’re too kind to me, (Name).”
You stick your tongue out at him while he grabs his coat from where it hangs limp on the leather sofa and drapes it over his shoulders. He pats his hair down in an effort to look somewhat together before placing the fedora on his head and putting his glasses on. You move to follow him through the door, but he stops you.
“There are patrons out there. Recall that we aren’t meant to be seen together, lest someone put two and two together.”
“Ah, right.” You fall back on your heel as you remember the stipulation outlined in the contract. “I’ll wait here.”
He doesn’t spare you another word and slips through the now open doorway. Left to your own devices, you could snoop through the many tomes lining the shelves, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. So you flop onto the sofa and listen to the faint chatter that drifts in from outside. Part of you wonders if anyone managed to eavesdrop, but knowing how noisy the Mostro Lounge can get it wouldn’t be surprising if your activities went unheard. At the very least, you’re certain the Leech twins might know of what occurred if they happened to linger near the door. You’d invite them in for the same treatment if they were willing to pay, but according to the contract you aren’t permitted to service anyone outside of Azul.
It’s a shame, but luckily Azul can provide you with anything and everything; so two months of time with him is more profitable than what you’d make in a week servicing the other students. It’s not exactly a loss, and as long as he doesn’t try to cheat you this arrangement will start and end smoothly.
You raise your hand towards the ceiling and flex your fingers, recalling the way his hand fit in yours so effortlessly. There’s a lot you don’t know about Azul. You don’t know what he does in his spare time. You don’t know the things he finds interesting. You don’t know why he chose to hold your hand or treat you with such caution. You’re only familiar with the businessman: the clever, scheming octopus who masquerades as a human with enough faux confidence and bravado to kill a man. And beneath that there is self-doubt—a constant, deteriorating fear that if he does not possess everything he is nothing. He’s an enigma decorated in ornate locks, and you’d like to discover every key until the chains have rusted away and you’ve worked out his complexities.
The door opens on smooth hinges and you sit up, your arm lowering to your side. In walks Azul, holding a saucer with a porcelain teacup. The fragrant scent of herbal tea fills the room and he sets it on the coffee table with an elegance that could rival Pomefiore’s. He lowers into the cushion across from you and nods towards the beverage. Steam rises from the liquid in wispy curls, aromatic tendrils that entice you to drink despite its scalding temperature.
“I sincerely hope you find it enjoyable.”
“I better because it was my wish,” you mutter, lifting the dainty cup from its accompanying saucer. You blow on it in an effort to accelerate the cooling process before glancing at Azul. “I won’t be fooled a second time, Ashengrotto. From now on I’ll choose my words wisely.”
He leans back and smirks. “A wisefish will fare better in the sea than a clownfish. You’re learning.”
Was that…a pun?
“Well, this ‘clownfish’ had you gasping like a beached mer.” Now it’s your turn to bask in amusement as you sip at the hot tea, careful not to burn your tongue. “I’d say I did a pretty good job, too.”
He rolls his eyes, but colors reminiscent of a ripened pomegranate are already climbing up his face. “It was an acceptable way to unwind. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
The flavorful tea rolls down your throat smoothly. “You liked it. I’m good at what I do. No need to skirt around the truth.”
“Sure. Fine. It was…okay. You’re…okay. Mere stress relief, if anything…”
With the way his voice trickles into a murmur of reservation, you get the impression that he’s not exactly confident in admitting the obvious. You surmise you might be the same if this was your first time getting intimate with a classmate. It’s almost invigorating to feast your eyes on his reactions. If only some of your other clients were as entertaining as Azul.
As you work to finish the tea, a single thought lingers in the back of your mind. Yeah, that was definitely a pun. A fish pun.
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Your meeting with Azul is purely chance—a ‘luck of the draw’ one might say—and it’s no longer awkward to be caught up in him whenever the two of you are alone together. The past two weeks have been filled with exhausting study sessions, coercing Grim into putting paw to paper, and balancing Azul’s requests in the privacy of his VIP room. The latter feels more like work than the other two, but at the very least you’re rewarded after every exchange.
Azul really can work miracles you’ve concluded. Not that you doubted his capable nature to begin with, but something about him always seemed too good to be true—too perfectly manufactured. A lie inlaid in fool’s gold, and he was simply tipping poison disguised as a panacea into everyone’s gullible ears. Perhaps you’re just as bad as the rest because you’ve signed his contract; you’re trapped for two months, forced to walk the daunting line of staying within the terms.
But it’s an agreement that has pulled you out of your looming financial crisis and has provided you and Grim with delicious foods. And all it costs is an hour spent with Azul, catering to his whims like a doll who only knows how to obey the strings that set her elegant body in motion. You couldn’t have asked for a better deal. Of course you know to keep your wits about you when you willingly enter the too-good-to-be-true lair of a beast and you’re careful to accept the tea he prepares after your acts, ready to hear the steep price for his so-called generosity. So far he has yet to trap you in some elaborate con and you’ve done well to satisfy him with each encounter, but you remain wary of him and his plans. He’s always scheming, and there’s no telling if he intends to help or hurt you with his well-kept secrets.
And if you know anything about Azul and his knack for self-preservation, you’re certain it’s the latter. 
You’ve yet to cross into any other territories regarding sex. Azul seems to be content with kissing and stuffing your mouth full of cock and those aren’t tall orders. You manage them well. But you can’t help wondering if it’s truly satisfying for him. He can have anything he wants from you, in any position and in any location, and yet he chooses to move at a snail’s pace. You aren’t faulting him for it, but falling into the same routine isn’t nearly as exciting as the dread of not knowing what comes next.
Maybe it’s safer this way. At least you know what to expect when you stride into the lounge.
“So the clownfish can study.”
“I can do tricks as well.” You gaze up at him from the thick textbook resting on your lap. Suddenly, the once peaceful air in the library’s dimly lit alcove feels colder than it actually is. With your back pressed against the chilled, snow-stamped windowpane, you view Azul from your makeshift fort of cushions as if he’s a prince standing just outside of your glass palace. He’s leaning against the bookcase in front of you, arms folding casually over his chest, and he makes no move to cross into your space. “What trick shall I perform for you today, Mr. Ashengrotto?”
“I’m not in need of your services at the moment.” Faux surprise paints itself on your face and he tuts softly. “Our paths just happened to cross, that’s all. I’m here for matters unrelated to you.”
“That’s a shame. I was here for you.” You turn the book towards him so that he can observe its cover. A panorama of the ocean has been printed on both the front and the back, and a beautiful coral reef resides in the bottom corners while a school of fish swim clustered in the deep blue. “I’m doing research on merfolk.”
“And why is that?”
“They’re interesting.”
“‘Interesting,’ you say.” He narrows his eyes at you, not quite believing or trusting the innocence in your claim.
“I’m serious! I want to learn about your species. Is that so wrong?”
“You could just consult me instead of an outdated, dust-filled textbook.” He gazes past you at the falling snow outside, each tiny flake fluttering through the gloomy sky like coconut shavings. “Although a lesson will cost you.”
“And here I thought we’d reached a point in our relationship where certain favors are free of charge...” Your gaze finds a particular passage on the page and you skim it with brewing curiosity. “Since you aren’t here for my mouth, I can only assume you’re looking for something. In that case, I won’t distract you.”
“Very well.” He peels himself off of the shelf, arms falling to his sides. “I wish you a most pleasant afternoon.” 
The conversation should have ended there—you were fully prepared to bid him farewell and continue with your reading—but your hand just had to seize his wrist before the words could escape your lips. And now you’re left with a bizarre predicament, one that has Azul staring down the length of his arm at your fingers secured tightly around his wrist. There’s nothing you can say to rationalize this sudden contact. Truthfully, you have no idea why you grabbed him and you don’t really want to know the reason, wherever it may hide within the folds of your brain.
“Can I help you?” he finally asks, brows raised.
“It was…a reflex,” you admit with a sheepish laugh, but you don’t pull away. Instead you make it worse by tugging him towards you. “A clownfish reflex. No, that’s not it. A-Actually, I was practicing my grip. Y-Yeah! My grip for when I—um—hug my friends tomorrow. In the Mirror Hall! When we say goodbye! Yes, my grip.”
“Oh?” Azul flashes a cocky grin at you, head tilting as he studies your grimace. “Did you know that an octopus’s tentacles function on their own? It seems your hand isn’t connected to your brain.”
It sounds like a cruel dig. It feels like a cruel dig when it embeds itself in your heart, but it’s just the sobering wake-up call you need. 
“I guess it’s not,” you mumble, fighting through the confusion in an effort to keep him entertained. Or maybe you really do want him to stay and acting like the clownfish he says you are is your clever way of distracting him from his main priority. You choose to remain perplexed instead of dwelling on that possibility. “Sorry. I’ll let go of you now.”
Once you release him, you’re overcome with a wave of relief. It’s odd that you’d reach out for him when it’s Azul who usually does that, sending terse, to-the-point messages whenever he requires your service. Azul gazes at the empty spot beside you and seats himself before you can come up with another outlandish explanation for your behavior. With this new proximity, his shoulder pressed against yours, you can smell the expensive cologne he takes great pride in wearing—can hear the rustling fabric of his uniform as he scoots closer to peer at the open textbook—and you’re swept up in the murkiest current, tugged along the rolling surf like a tiny boat with shredded sails.
You meet his stare with bemusement. “I thought you were busy.”
“If tolerating a clownfish counts as ‘busy,’ then I am, in fact, drowning in work.”
“You can’t stay away from me.”
“I’d say it’s the opposite.” His gloved fingers wrap around the book and you let him commandeer it. While he scrutinizes the paragraphs of text, you catch yourself admiring his handsome side profile. Once again, it’s almost impossible to fathom sitting beside someone like Azul, whose own fineness ought to be preserved in a museum and not in a slice of this ancient school, where dust is more prevalent than polish. “You do realize I’m an octo-mer, yes? Not a full octopus.”
“I know that,” you retort, yet his disapproving expression stabs you with a terrible shard of shame. “I was just looking at octopus facts to see whether or not any of it correlates to your behavior as a merman.”
“Should I ask why?”
“My intentions are as pure as the snow outside.” His scoff prompts a chuckle from you. “It says the octopus is an intelligent escape artist. Aah, I wish I could fit inside whatever I wanted without having to worry about getting stuck. Not literally, though. That’s not a wish. I’m just thinking out loud.”
“Speaking of, you’ve yet to name your wish from our last meeting.”
“You’re right.” You hum low in your throat, ideas populating in your brain at once. Eventually, after much internal deliberation, you decide to ease into it with a simple inquiry. “What’s your opinion on lingerie?”
“Lawnger ray… I don’t believe I’ve heard of that species of ray before.” He blinks at you, glasses sitting tilted on his face.
“Lingerie isn’t a fish.” Gently, your skilled fingers adjust his glasses, a warm smile blossoming on your lips when he wrinkles his nose at you. “Humans wear it. Think of it like…pretty underwear.” Withdrawing your phone from your pocket, you tap at the screen until it’s filled with images for Azul’s viewing pleasure.
He stares at your mobile as if he’s trying to see beyond the nonexistent cataracts in his pastel hues. “Humans are fond of this? I don’t see what’s so practical about wearing scraps of fabric.”
“It’s for fun or to feel sexy. Lots of couples wear it during foreplay. Some wear it during sex. I guess it depends on preference.”
“Foreplay?”
“It’s like easing into sex, but you’re exploring each other and building up to it through things like kissing, role-playing, and touching. If we were to do it, I’d give every inch of you my attention. From your lips to your chest to down there. It’s supposed to heighten arousal by exciting both parties.”
“And this ‘lawnger ray’ somehow helps?”
“If I wear it for you, you’ll understand.” As you say that his eyes drift from the screen to you, raking over your chest and then back up to your face. “But I also found slippers that look like fish, so I’m really stuck on what to wish for right now. Do I put my needs before yours? Are fish slippers better than sex?”
Azul deadpans and the electric tension in the air dissipates like smoke crawling through an open window. “Fish slippers do not sound like a worthwhile investment.”
“Oh, but they are!”
“To think you’d proudly wish for something so foolish... And in my presence, no less.” He shakes his head, sighing. “Have you no shame?”
“But they’re cute. You wouldn’t get it.” Pocketing your phone, you level him with half-lidded eyes. “Or maybe you prefer the ‘lawnger ray.’”
A scowl darkens his features when he hears your mockery of his mispronunciation. “Perhaps you’re less of a clownfish than I initially thought.”
“Then what does that make me now?”
“A megamouth.”
“A what?”
“It’s a species of shark. You wouldn’t get it.”
Now you’re reaching for his hand of your own volition like a marionette with severed strings. “Maybe you’d be willing to enlighten me, a poor, unfortunate soul who lacks marine knowledge?”
He shrinks away for a fraction of a second, but then he reassembles his confidence so quickly that you hardly notice it was deteriorating to begin with. His palm meets yours, fingers not yet interlacing. He stares at you and the rest of the library falls away into ash and dust and the scent of weathered, crinkled pages, and it really feels like you’ve found yourself at the end of the world in this cramped alcove with Azul as your only companion. 
With your heart thrumming on newfound adrenaline, you murmur in a tone that you hope is filled with enough allure to tempt the most sinister devils: “Let’s make a deal. You’ll teach me about yourself and I’ll treat you as I have these past few weeks. If you’re feeling generous, you’re more than welcome to throw in those fish slippers as a bonus. I won’t complain.”
“You’re something else entirely. If you want it, work for it,” he says, but he’s listening, considering the bait you’ve dangled before him.
“That’s the plan. So do we have a deal?”
“Allow me to amend the terms. One lesson. No fish slippers. You’ll come see me after the Mostro Lounge has closed tonight.”
“You can do better than that, Ashengrotto. Where’s the challenge you love so much? The high stakes?” You’re well aware that speaking his language isn’t enough to entice him into agreeing. If you really want to wriggle inside Azul’s hearts like a worm in an apple core, you’ll need to sell your charm and negotiation skills as if it’ll put food on the table. And it technically does, as ironic as that sounds. “Let’s make this interesting. If I cum before you, I’ll gracefully accept this lesson as my wish. I’ll even let you choose lingerie for my previous wish. But if you cum first, I’ll be awaiting a pair of fish slippers. Does that sound acceptable?”
“All right. I’ll bite.” He winks at you, and your heart does a tiny somersault inside your chest. Smirking, he finally intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s a deal.”
Not wanting to dwell any further on that internal response, you jump up from the cushion, hand parting from his, and brace yourself against the bookcase. Glancing over your shoulder at Azul, you wiggle your hips playfully. “You said it yourself. I’d be better off taking a lesson from you instead of that old textbook, so there’s no need to use it anymore.”
Azul seems to be debating the risks that come with this wager, his eyes clouded with uncertainty, and for a moment you think he might back out, cowed into a premature defeat at the thought of some nosy student stumbling upon the explicit display. But, to your delight, he shuts the book and sets it aside, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. 
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Since you think I’m such a megamouth, I’ll use something else instead.” You lift your pleated skirt to reveal the pudgy flesh of your thighs. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”
“Naturally.” His hands find your waist, gloved fingertips ghosting over your bare skin. “I do hope you’ve prepared yourself for defeat.”
“Like I’ll let that happen.”
Reaching into the depths of your uniform blazer, you withdraw a small jar that fits in the palm of your hand, unassuming with its clear, gel-like appearance. Azul watches as you make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down almost impatiently, before yanking the cork out of the bottle with your teeth. After spilling a generous amount into your hand, you work his flaccid cock in a loose fist. There’s something uniquely appealing about doing this in a corner of the library, where you’re pressured into silence to avoid getting caught. You wonder who’d chew you out if they discovered the both of you. Just what sort of punishment comes from fucking in the library? As intriguing of a mystery as that is, you’d prefer to keep your record clean (for the most part), lest it come back to burden you in the future. 
It doesn’t take long for his cock to stiffen with your gentle ministrations, each stroke slow and deliberate. Azul hisses out a breath when you pull away, and you hardly have time to react before he’s shoving you against the bookcase, slipping his slick length between the softness of your thighs. His arms wrap around you and he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck as he moves his hips, searching for the right pace. You chew your lip and stifle a dreamy sigh at the lewd delight the friction provides.
“Let’s start with the anatomy of an octo-mer,” he murmurs against your skin, and despite how textbook it sounds you shudder involuntarily. Had it been anyone else, you’re certain that pairing this topic with your current situation would have squeezed a laugh out of you. But since it’s Azul, you listen intently, even if it feels like the beginning of a lecture. “We’re eight-limbed invertebrates with three hearts. Our blood is blue, which you humans seem to find abnormal, even though it’s not that different from your own blood. It’s only blue because of haemocyanin, which contains copper instead of the iron you humans have in your blood. If you think of it like—”
“That’s great, but tell me about you.” You crane your neck and offer him a grin. “The elusive Azul Ashengrotto... I wonder what sort of habitat he dwells in. I wonder what his favorite foods are, if he hunts for prey with his silver tongue or his bare hands, and if there’s more beneath the clever conman than he lets on. Maybe he’ll say yes to the fish slippers if I kiss him drunk. Oh, I’ll have to take notes. The Ashengrotto species is not immune to kisses and blow—ow!”
A sharp pinch to your side. And then his low warning: “You’re really pushing it, Miss Megamouth.”
Laughter trickles out of you. “My bad. I’m just curious.” 
“Why?” The one-word query sounds so brittle and sad, almost as if he can’t fathom why you’d ever want to know such information, and your playful nature softens. 
“Because we’re so obviously more than strangers and yet I hardly know anything about you.”
“Right... In that case...” His fingers grip your chin, a touch so benign you’d think he’s handling glassware, and he guides your head so that you’re no longer looking at him. “I...like to collect things.”
“Like?”
Something wet touches your neck, as fleeting as a sun shower. You can’t tell if it’s his lips or a tongue, but it traces its way down your skin until it’s dampened your uniform collar. Your heart recognizes the liquid well enough, but you can’t bring yourself to confront him on the matter. 
“Coins, mainly. Contracts. Magic…” His intonation falters and he clears his throat. “Interesting things.”
Your fingers wrap around the shelf to steady yourself, and you inhale sharply when he makes a sudden, quick thrust that has his dick rubbing against your clothed pussy. 
“I—hah—hope our contract...made it into your collection.”
“Of course. I take pride in every arrangement, no matter how personal it may be.” He squeezes your hip playfully and the melancholy gradually evaporates. “Ours is by far my favorite.”
“Even though I can’t give you any magic?”
“You’ve given your time to me. That’s incredibly valuable. Priceless, I’d say.”
“And yet it’s the price I pay in exchange for your ‘bottomless generosity.’”
“Oh, hush.”
Now you feel his lips on your neck, a sensation so wonderful and warm that you can’t help tilting your head to offer him more of your bare skin. You hum your approval, eyes fluttering shut as you resign yourself to the moment. The only sounds that permeate the crisp silence are the delicious squelches of skin on skin, Azul’s lustful whimpers, and your soft pants. He holds you against him as he fucks into your thighs and presses delicate kisses into your heated skin.
For the first time since you arrived at this school, you feel so secure and wanted—genuinely wanted and not just for secret exchanges behind alluring architecture. It’s reassuring to be held and kissed and touched, a special sort of comfort you’ve found in Azul. You wonder if this is just another sugary dream you’ve trapped yourself in and Azul is merely a performer in the play orchestrated by your mind. When his hand moves to unbutton your blouse, skillful fingers tugging your tie down, you realize this isn’t just an alternate reality constructed from the secret desires locked away in the confines of your heart. And knowing this is so very conflicting because you’ve never done anything like this with previous clients. Nothing has ever been as emotion-driven as this currently feels.
But you’re as good an actor as Azul. Perhaps the both of you realize a certain level of showmanship is required for this unique friendship. 
Friendship. Since when did the two of you become friends? Was it that day in the lounge when he’d first proposed this arrangement? Or was it the minute you met him after he’d trapped so many unfortunate souls in his tricky contracts, and you, Jack, and Grim had debated whether you should sign Ramshackle away under the dimming glow of the VIP room? Or maybe it was the day you sat at his bedside in the infirmary, offering your ear while he agonized over his ruined reputation and the fact that everyone—that you—had seen his true self: a clumsy, crybaby octopus who can’t exist without gilded lies and stolen skills.
In the midst of his self-loathing, you’d placed your hand over his trembling, bandaged one and said, “Ruined reputation or not, you’re still you. And the people who really, truly care for you won’t abandon you because of everything that happened. If they’re really your friends, they’ll forgive you. I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re just relieved you’re alive.” He stared at you, confined in his own silent awe, and with his defenses momentarily compromised you delivered a quick smack to his arm, to which he immediately flinched away from. “But that also doesn’t mean you can pull a stunt like this again. If you do, I’ll turn you into takoyaki and feed you to the twins!” 
Azul's wry laughter had him grimacing seconds later. Despite the pain that flashed on his face, he managed his classic smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”
“There he is! Welcome back, Azul,” you said, grinning through the discomfort of your own wince-worthy bruises. If he noticed the way your arms wrapped protectively around your stomach, he didn’t verbalize it, instead choosing to peer at you with his lips pursed in a thin line. Thinking, as always, of what to say next.
“I never want to let you go.”
Your heart trips over itself and every musing promptly disintegrates. “S-Sorry?”
“Ah. It’s…nothing,” he whispers, smiling against your skin.
A shudder racks through you when he tugs your bra down to free your breasts. The cold air immediately hardens your nipples and you shiver against him. His gloved hands fit perfectly over those tender mounds and he handles them with his usual gentleness. Even though he’s murmuring about his affinity for the piano and how he’d like to play you a piece he composed, all you can focus on is the euphoric feeling of his dick sliding between your thighs, back and forth in a drag that sends electricity up your spine. 
You whine pitifully, a snuffed sort of sound that only entices Azul more. With a breathy chuckle, he rolls your puffy nipples between his fingers, and more lovely moans cascade from your lips. There’s no point in hiding your obvious enjoyment from him—not that you had any intentions of being opaque with him in the first place. You want to unravel with him, fending off orgasmic highs for the sake of preserving your pride and winning a bet. And as you push back against him, clamping your thighs around his length, which has him hissing lowly, competition catches a spark and ignites.
“You can cum whenever you’d like,” he reminds you, and you bark out a chuckle that’s more gasp than laugh.
“Only if you cum first.” You wriggle your hips against his pelvis and sigh dramatically. “It’s not nice to make a lady wait.”
“My sincerest apologies.” Derisive as ever, it hardly carries an ounce of sincerity. One hand detaches itself from your breast and you observe him in your peripheral as he pulls his glove off with his teeth. It’s tucked between your breasts next, and you roll your eyes at him, a humorous grin settling on your face when his fingers dip between the cleavage, a fleeting, teasing touch. His ungloved hand travels further down, ghosting over your stomach, before finding the delightful space between your legs. “I won’t keep you any longer, Miss Megamouth.” 
His hand slips into your panties and the pads of his fingers brush along your clit. You jolt against him, posture going rigidly stiff.
“Hey, no fair…” Your whine is loud in the desolate quiet of the library.
“If I recall—” accompanied with another determined thrust— “you never specified what can and cannot be done in order to achieve victory. That was your first mistake.”
You attempt a weak scoff, but his finger grinds against that sensitive nub, rolling in precise circles, and your legs tremble. “I just... J-Just made it easy for you. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that so? Your mindless generosity rivals that of the S-Sea Witch.”
“Ooh, was that a voice crack? Are you close?” 
“N-Nonsense.”
“There’s no shame in cumming first. So—haah—be a good boy and cum for me, okay?”
The sweetness in your voice is enough to elicit the tiniest whimper, and so you clench your thighs tightly around him again, certain that this is enough to guarantee your well-earned win. Azul pulls you against him in a way that mirrors possessive greed. But just before you can tease him any further, you look up and find someone peering right back at you through an empty space between the many texts that line the shelf. 
“My, my.” Jade tilts his head at you, a wide smile sharpening on his lips when he observes the situation laid out before him. “Pardon my intrusion. I do hope I’m not interrupting your extracurricular.”
You open your mouth to retort, but Azul rests his chin on your shoulder and replies in a voice that’s now surprisingly composed, “You’re right on time, actually. We’re just about finished here.”
“But I haven’t even—oh!” Your fingers curl around the ledge when Azul tugs on your perky nipple and squeezes your clit with his other hand, and before you can stop yourself you’re biting into your arm to muffle your keening cry as your orgasm washes over you unexpectedly, soaking your panties and leaving you shuddering in the aftermath.
“Your second mistake,” he whispers against your skin, pride encasing every syllable, “was thinking you could beat me at my own game.”
He slides his slick cock out from between your thighs and removes his hands from you, instead guiding you around to face him before forcing you to your knees. Through hazy, lust-filled eyes, you meet his victorious stare. Pulling the other glove from his dominant hand, he grips your chin, forcing your lips apart, and he pumps himself a few more times before releasing his sticky load all over your face. By pure instinct, your tongue darts out across your lips to gather the cum that’s smeared on it like pearly gloss. You don’t miss the quiver that wracks Azul’s rigid frame. He clears his throat and assumes his usual poise, though the reaction is not lost on you. 
“To conclude our lesson with a final fun fact.” He retrieves the handkerchief Jade offers through the gap in the bookshelf. “Should an octopus become bored or stressed, it may resort to autophagy as a means of stimulation.”
“Is that right?” You peer up at him through your lashes, intrigue crawling across your face. 
“Luckily, I have no need to feast on my limbs. You’re plenty stimulating.” After cleaning himself up and sliding his gloves back on, he passes the frilly cloth to you, gazing sidelong at Jade. “Let us be on our way. Time is of the essence.”
Jade bows his head in agreement before turning to address you, a hand over his heart. “I would suggest you stay warm on this dreadfully cold day, but it seems you’ve already found an adequate heat source.”
And then they depart, leaving you and your flustered heart on the floor. 
“Damn it! I nearly had him,” you grumble, gripping the handkerchief in a tight fist. The loss doesn’t cut very deep, but it does provide you with some useful insight. You’re left to dwell on it as you button your blouse and clean your face.
The Ashengrotto species is not immune to praise.
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Grim is treated to the sight of you twirling around your room at the crack of dawn. He narrows his eyes at you, unimpressed with your melodious humming or the arrhythmic ballet you’re performing.
“Yer dancin’ and singin’ like yer in love. It’s gross.” He buries his face in his paws. His next words are muffled, but they reach your ears nonetheless. “Some of us are tryin’ to sleep. Nngh...” 
“You’re not going to believe this!” you exclaim, jumping from foot to foot. “Look at this!”
Despite his initial complaints, Grim still lifts his head from the bed to observe the neatly wrapped box in your hands. “Is it food? If not I’m goin’ back to bed.”
“Hold on! You have to be awake for this.” Grinning, you hold the parcel’s accompanying envelope between two fingers. “Voilà! A letter.”
“Ya lost me.”
“It’s from Azul.”
Your furry companion pulls a face at the mention of Octavinelle’s slippery Housewarden. “Not that guy… What does he want now? I’m not washin’ dishes again! No way!”
“Dunno. Let’s find out.” You set the box beside you and sit on the edge of the bed, turning the letter over to analyze the golden stamp and the sender’s name scrawled on the front in looping script, delicate letters connecting to form a pretty slant. “His handwriting’s really nice.”
“Ya might as well kiss him at this point,” Grim mutters, sticking his tongue out in disgust. Oh, Grim, if only you knew... “He’s nothin’ but a no-good, lyin,’ cheatin,’ fraud!”
“But he’s also rich. Or… Yeah, right? Isn’t the majority at this school rich?” The inquiry hangs heavy in the air while you break the wax seal and tear the envelope open to get to the letter that rests within. It’s a short message—hardly worth the fancy stationery—and you read it aloud. “‘Dearest Clownfish, enclosed you will find those vile slippers. They are not cute and I refuse to waste brainpower fathoming why humans are charmed by peculiar oddities such as these shoes. I suppose that is the nature of contrasting species and the limitless curiosity that dwells in the capacity of one’s brain. In any case, I shall await your arrival at the Mostro Lounge tonight. 9:30 p.m. Do not be late, Miss Megamouth. Otherwise I will send two of my finest escorts to retrieve you.’”
Miss Megamouth. You roll your eyes. I liked ‘Dearest Clownfish’ better.
“I don’t get it. Why’s he want you to come down at night?” Grim snatches the parchment from your hands. “Sounds suspicious…”
“I’m…washing dishes.”
“Ugh. Good luck.” He casts the paper aside and you catch it as it flutters midair. “I’m goin’ back to sleep now.”
Riddled with excitement, you wave Grim off as he yawns and curls up under the blankets and pull the package onto your lap. It’s the size of a shoebox, and the wrapping paper is an iridescent silver. When you tilt it one way, it shines purple. Another way and it’s blue. Unable to speculate on the truth in his letter, you shred the wrappings and tug the lid off. Sure enough, a pair of fish slippers rest within and your heart skips a beat.
“Weird.” You run your finger over the smooth material. “He’s so weird.”
And his generosity lingers with you for the rest of the morning.
Farewells are not so depressing when they indicate a temporary absence and an eventual return. When you throw your arms around each of your friends, laughing at the way Deuce’s cheeks burn as pink as the flamingos in Heartslabyul or the way Ace grumbles into your hair about how he won’t miss you, you realize that a few weeks without them won’t be the end of the world. If this had been the last time you’d ever hear their voices and feel their comforting warmth, you’re certain there would be more emotions. Plenty of tears to out-rain even Kalim’s Oasis Maker.
That isn’t to say you aren’t sad to see them vanish through the impressive mirror, its foggy surface devouring each student like the powerful jaws of a Great White. You wonder if it’s ever sent a student to the wrong location before. Then again, if you came here through some old mirror’s summons then you’re certain that’s not too far from the realm of possibility.
Envy tugs at your heart when you pull away from Jack, whose embrace is far too tight and tense yet endearing enough. You feel the jealousy coil around the beating muscle until it’s constricting it, and you have no choice but to force a smile as you send the rest of your friends off with hugs and, for those who are too stubborn, a cheerful fist bump/high-five—or, if you’re Riddle, a stiff handshake. Really, you’d have thought he’d be more relaxed in the time following his Overblot. But you’re not Riddle and the both of you have different feelings about the things that keep you awake at night.
Still, you wish you could leave through that mirror, if only to see your loved ones for a coveted day of holiday cheer. 
You and Grim are starved after wishing everyone safe travels and happy holidays. He’s sprawled in your arms while you carry him from the Mirror Hall, groaning about how if he isn’t fed within the next few minutes he’ll shrivel into nothing. A drama queen, that Grim.
“Ya walk too slow!” he declares after a full minute of whining. “If ya ain’t gonna walk fast like a good hench-human, then I’ll just get a head start.” And with a huff, he jumps from your arms, landing perfectly on all fours, before trotting off in the direction of the cafeteria. “And I won’t be savin’ ya any food. Not even a morsel!”
You watch him go with a fond grin. Maybe this winter holiday won’t be so terrible after all. You’ve got Grim and the ghosts to keep you entertained and when it comes to bed-warming you have Azul.
“(Name)!”
You turn at the utterance of your name and spot a student you’ve dubbed the Pomefiore Pest. He’s nice, if not irritatingly insistent, and he’s been sending you message after message wondering where you’ve been and why you haven’t responded yet. Thank the Great Seven for that glorious mute button; it works wonders. You were hoping you could evade him for a little longer, but what is life without its inconveniences?
“Oh! Hey… You? What’s up?”
He falls into step beside you. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought I’d catch you at the Hall today, but you were so busy with everyone else.”
“That’s me—the busiest bee on campus.” You wink at him. “Do you need anything?”
“Yeah? I think that much should be obvious.” His brows knit into the beginning of a glare, but he catches himself before he can scowl outright. Instead, he clears his throat and says, “I want to use your mouth today. You’ll let me, right? I’ll give you double from last time.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m about to eat right now. Maybe later?” You try to force as much dejection into your tone as possible, hoping it’s enough to garner his sympathy and drive him away.
“There won’t be a later, though. You’ll just keep ignoring me. I get that you’ve got stuff to do, but we had a deal. I pay you and you suck. That shouldn’t be so hard to follow.”
For a student from Pomefiore, his vocabulary sure is crude. Surely Vil has taught him better. You’d jest if you could, but he seems slightly worked up for your liking. And from observing Ace’s interactions with Riddle, you’ve learned it’s not smart to poke a seething bear.
“I really wish I could, but I can’t. I’m busy right now.”
“You’re going to see Housewarden Ashengrotto, aren’t you?”
That stops you in your pursuit of good food and even better company. You gaze at him with a frown.
“Why would I?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” With a sigh, he folds his arms over his chest. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with that guy. It’s impossible to get near you without those Leech brothers getting in the way.”
Someone’s perceptive. Or maybe you just like to watch, you stalker.
“You think so?” You rack your brain for a suitable scapegoat. It would be so easy to play it off as a fake crush or part of some elaborate plan to get closer to Azul to learn all of his secrets, but no one’s meant to know about Azul’s involvement with you. And you’re really not itching to break that term on this beautiful, albeit chilly, winter morning. “Give it time. In a month or so, we can get back to our usual routine. New year, new me, right?”
“I’m not waiting that long! Why can’t we just do it now? This was never a problem before.”
“Is it so wrong to want a break? You should put yourself in my shoes and try sucking half the school’s dicks. Maybe then you’ll understand.”
“You little—”
With an offended scoff, he seizes your wrist and yanks you off the cobbled path in the opposite direction. You stumble along, glancing at him and then over your shoulder at your destination as it grows smaller and smaller. The wintry wind whips at your face, snowflakes cutting into your frosted skin like a dozen intricate blades. Your annoying acquaintance says nothing when he slams you against the nearest surface, but the frustrated expression he wears speaks volumes about his intentions. You don’t react when he pulls your blazer open and sloppily unbuttons your shirt, too dumbstruck to realize the gravity of the situation. But once it dawns on you, your heart nearly stops.
“Hey, wait a minute.” You reach out to push him away, but he snatches your hand and places it just above his crotch.
“You can take your break after I’m done using you, got that?”
“You can’t be serious,” you say with an awkward laugh. “It’s snowing.”
“So? The weather doesn’t mean anything.”
You jerk away when his hand slips under your shirt to give your breast a squeeze that’s so rough you’re certain his fingernails will leave crescent-shaped indents in your skin. Wincing, you squirm in his grasp when his knee slides between your legs.
“Stop it. This isn’t funny anymore.”
“Now you know how I felt when you ignored me, you stupid slut.”
That’s as far as he gets because he’s doused in a surge of water seconds later. Shocked, he detaches himself from you and grabs at his soaked clothes. You can’t tell if he’s feeling the chill or is just so enraged he’s started trembling, but you hope it’s the former. Standing a few meters away and tucking his magic pen back into his breast pocket is your aquatic savior.
“Oh dear. What loutish behavior and towards a lady, no less. To be devoid of common courtesy and basic manners… Were you raised by barbarians?” Azul tuts as he covers the distance with graceful strides. He shrugs his coat off and drapes it over your shuddering frame before facing the drenched student. “It’s insulting an ignoramus like you resides in Pomefiore.”
“H-Housewarden Ashengrotto!” he manages to say through chattering teeth. “I promise t-this isn’t what it looks like.”
“No? Then am I a fool to assume (Name) wanted to be treated so callously?” He narrows his eyes at him as he stands in front of you like a protective knight in finely ironed uniform. You wrap his coat around yourself, relishing in the scent of his cologne. If you really think about it, it’s almost as if Azul’s hugging you. “I’d prefer not to waste my precious time or breath on a poor creature such as yourself. Lying will only hollow your grave and further cement your guilt.”
The Pomefiore student trips over his own tongue as he attempts to keep up with Azul’s quick wit. Eventually he grinds out a halfhearted excuse about how you were just playing hard to get and that you’re not normally this cold. According to him, you just needed a push in the right direction. 
Azul chuckles, and the sound is cruel and harsh. “If I recall, you said the weather wasn’t a problem. I do hope you enjoy ice sculptures. They’re popular around this time of year, are they not?”
And with that, he turns on his heel and guides you away from the student, whose feet are now frozen to the ground. You ignore his shouts and inauthentic pleas for forgiveness as you walk beside Azul, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. Even his hand on your back is a comfort and you don’t quite hear his voice as you walk, focusing on his touch and presence rather than his words.
Azul’s determined gait comes to a halt in the courtyard under leafless trees with their gnarled limbs reaching towards the gloomy clouds above, and he’s looking at you with so much concern it twists your heart into knots. Your stare slides from him to the trees, and they remind you of a skeleton’s hands with their bent fingers scrabbling for a handhold in the vast, endless sky.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m…just a little shaken, but I’ll be okay.” You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you showed up when you did.” Your breath materializes before you in a puff of air that’s reminiscent of fire-breathing dragons. Your grip on his coat tightens. “Um… That student will be fine, though, right? I know he’s terrible, but freezing to death can’t be ideal or enjoyable.”
“Jade and Floyd will carve him out once the ice has reached his knees. I surmise the chill will have worked its way into the very marrow of his bones once they’re done. Hopefully this little lesson will leave him with plenty of time to reflect.”
Yikes.
“I can pay you back for saving me. I know nothing’s ever free with you, so just name your price and—”
“Is that really all you can say?”
“Excuse me?”
“Is your brain wired so foolishly that you’d sell yourself without having considered the consequences?” he snaps, glaring. “If you used a sliver of your brain… Honestly. Things like this wouldn’t happen if you didn’t throw yourself at every student like a slab of meat!”
Shock digs into you like a sharp blade and you take a step away from him, betrayal flashing across your face. Suddenly, his coat feels less like a welcome embrace and more like a heavy burden.
“I wasn’t suggesting anything sexual. I meant a favor or something…” With narrowed eyes, you meet his frosty scowl. “Is that all you see me as? Just some toy to be passed around amongst the students here?”
Azul’s expression softens for a moment. “That’s not what I—”
“No, that is what you meant, you ass!” You shrug his coat off and shove it at him, disgusted at his insinuation that you’re nothing more than a human sex toy. “I do all of this for a reason, but you wouldn’t know anything about that because you’ve never been forced into a strange world with no way out. You try making enough Madol to live in Ramshackle! You think I enjoy what I do? I don’t even know half of these guys and I definitely don’t like any of them.” You inhale a breath of icy air, hold it, and then exhale slowly. Arguing won’t accomplish anything, and throwing meaningless insults around would just add more fuel to the already flaming fire. “Now that I know what you really think of me, I’ll be leaving.”
“You misunderstood me. I only meant to say—”
You’re already walking away, gritting your teeth as you force yourself to remain composed. Hot, salty tears gather in your eyes, but you’re not quite sure why you’re on the verge of crying. It’s strange; you’ve never cared about Azul’s opinion before. So why now?
When you make it back to Ramshackle Dorm, you flop onto your bed and allow hidden emotions to seep through the cracks. Even the prepackaged sandwich Grim salvaged from the cafeteria fails to lift your spirits. Instead, he curls beside you and listens to your tearful rant. And when you’ve exhausted yourself, he lies on your pillow and falls asleep with you.
Nine-thirty rolls around, but you’re too busy playing card games with Grim and the ghosts to bother with the time.
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After a week of ignoring countless summons from Azul, narrowly dodging the twins, and ranting your frustrations to Grim over tuna cans and candy, your rebellion ends at two in the morning when a slew of notifications shake you from your peaceful slumber. With a sleepy groan, you reach for your phone to shut it off when your eyes catch sight of the sender. It’s Floyd, and he’s bombarded you with one-word messages that spell out sentences when you skim through them. 
He’s relentless, you think, irritated. I’m sure Azul told him to do this. The octopus doesn’t want to look desperate. 
Yawning, you mute Floyd’s contact just as a final message populates: come to the lounge, shrimpyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!! :D
With so many exclamation points and an emoticon that would have been disarming had it not come from Floyd, you wonder if it’s truly worth getting out of bed for. But then you realize that it isn’t a suggestion—it’s a demand—and if Azul really wanted to see you at this very moment he’d send the twins to fetch you regardless of your willingness or the state of your consciousness.
I hate him, your brain concludes, but your heart houses covert disagreement.
Since you value Grim’s beauty sleep and are against paying for the damages that will inevitably come should the twins break into Ramshackle Dorm, you slither out of bed. Throwing a robe on over your nightwear, you slide your feet into your fish slippers and stomp out into the cold. The walk is frigid, and the chill bites fiercely, but irritation fuels you as you storm through the Hall of Mirrors and emerge at Octavinelle’s entrance, a foul tirade brewing on the tip of your tongue. 
Before you can burst through the doors of the Mostro Lounge to confront Azul, someone’s hands shield your face. 
“How much is Azul paying you, Floyd?”
“You’re good!” he exclaims with a breathy giggle. “I thought for sure you’d guess Jade.”
“Yeah, yeah. Where’s your slimy boss? I need to have a word with him.”
“Azul is waiting inside.” Jade’s voice. “Before you decide to converse with your fists, I suggest you take a moment to appreciate the view.”
“The view? What are you—hey!”
Floyd twirls you once before shoving you into the Mostro Lounge. The doors shut behind you with a resonating boom and you can hear the faint sound of footsteps as the twins depart. Frowning, you survey the dimly lit lounge. The aquarium’s luminosity dyes everything in an icy blue, an eerie hue that reminds you of submarines cutting through the deep, dark sea with a single searchlight. Someone claps and a spotlight clicks on, illuminating a table filled with drinks and finger foods in a pale yellow-green glow. Some of the dishes are recognizable—like the tower of chocolate-covered fruits and sparkling juices in champagne flutes—but some are foreign to your eyes—like the green clusters of what looks like tiny grapes and the seashells with a filling unknown to you—and you assume these originated from the Coral Sea. You gaze up at the octopus-shaped chandelier, brows furrowed. 
“Humans have the most interesting terminology. What was it? Oh, right. ‘Comfort food.’” Azul stands before you with his usual debonair grin. Unlike you, he’s still dressed in his uniform and he looks presentable and perfect. As expected of a showman. “I would like to indulge in the comforts of good food with you. You’ll join me, won’t you?”
Your only response is the longest, loudest sigh you can muster. 
Azul fidgets. “It’s not exactly a resort, but it’s still something.”
“Resort? Oh. You...remembered that?”
“Of course. I have an impeccable memory, after all.” He chuckles at your unimpressed glare. “For tonight, Octavinelle shall be your resort.”
“Wow, Azul. You’re really...” You trail off and his eyes widen in anticipation, awaiting praise. Your next words are like salt to the sensitive octopus that lives within him. “The most foolish clownfish I’ve ever met. No, more than that. You’re a megamouth and an annoying, pathetic, mean-hearted octopus. All three of your hearts are mean.” You cross your arms over your chest, but your defiance soon shrivels. “But…I also signed your contract, so I guess that makes me your contractual fool.”
“For two months,” he agrees, and you roll your eyes. “I deserve your ire, and now that you’ve rattled off such endearing adjectives I would like to formally apologize. It wasn’t proper to say those things to you. You were right. I don’t know how it feels to be forced into a magical world with no way out, but I can at least relate to how helpless you must feel. I, too, felt helpless when I came to the surface for the first time.” He clears his throat, awkwardly wringing his hands. “In any case, I do hope you’ll find it in your human heart to forgive me.”
“That depends. Is this entire feast for show, or are you genuinely apologizing?”
“I am genuinely apologizing.” He huffs. “And here you are in my humble lounge, fishing with your doubt. That saddens me.”
“Keep running that mega mouth of yours and I’ll leave without an ounce of forgiveness. I don’t take kindly to being woken from a good dream, Ashengrotto.” 
“And yet you remain.” He whistles as he steps around you, a playful glint in his bright hues. “In the business, that’s known as getting your tail fin in the door.”
“I only came because I didn’t want to get kidnapped.” Shaking your head in disappointment, you stride towards the buffet and plop down in the booth. “And I’m only staying for the food.”
He lowers into the seat across from you. “Then please eat to your heart’s content. Free of charge, of course. Consider this an extension of my apology.”
Forgoing hesitation, you reach for a champagne flute, which houses a liquid that’s as blue as the sky and as frothy as sea surf, and admire its shine when it catches the light. “You must want something in exchange for all of this. The Azul I know wouldn’t go out of his way for an apology.”
“Your skepticism wounds me. I’m a gentleman.”
You take a long sip from the sparkling juice, savoring its sweet effervescence. “What do you want?”
“Patience, my dear. Comfort food is meant to be enjoyed in tranquility, not suspicion.”
Your heart jumps at the words ‘my dear.’ The aquarium looks much nicer at that moment. Coral twists in an array of colors and various species of fish swim freely, undisturbed by the meal taking place right in front of them. You catch yourself wishing to join in their aquatic world, a breathtaking place where your heavy feelings turn weightless in the deep blue and you can simply float away.
“Truthfully, I had intended to share this moment with you many nights ago.”
“So that’s what you meant in your letter,” you muse, hazarding a glance at him. He’s bathed in that same dappled light from the VIP room and you reach for him, wanting so badly to run your fingers through his hair, over his chest, on top of his hand. But then your fingers pluck a chocolate-covered fruit from the silver platter and you bring it to your lips. “The fish slippers are comfortable, by the way.”
“It seems you’ve taken quite the shine to them. I’ll admit they’re unique.”
A subdued smile threatens to blossom, so you bite into the strawberry. Sweetness coats your tongue at once, and a delighted hum escapes your pursed lips. Azul’s expression softens at your obvious enjoyment. 
“Why’d you get them, though? I lost our bet.”
He rubs at a nonexistent stain on the tablecloth. “You looked so enthusiastic talking about those dreadful shoes. It was hard to not want to get them after enduring your ramblings.”
You freeze in your pursuit of another bite, the half-eaten strawberry poised at your mouth. “So it was a gift?” 
“It was not a gift. I do not give...gifts.”
“You so do!” You slap the table and smirk. “Maybe I should lose our next bet.”
“Perish the thought. There won’t be another bet.”
“Fine, fine. But you admit it’s a gift, right?”
“Ugh. Honestly... Yes, it was a gift. I suppose it’s because you’ve charmed me.”
“O-Oh. Um…” You force a scowl despite the rising heat in your cheeks and add, “Well, I’m not charmed. I’m still angry at you.”
A sudden laugh bursts from him, unrestrained and filled with honest amusement. You gawk at him, bewitched with shock. Real, raw laughter sounds so musical coming from him—a sound that can only be produced when he’s effortlessly comfortable. Your resolve melts, and with another saccharine nibble you begin to dismiss every hostile barb that once occupied your thoughts. This Azul, you’ve decided, is by far the most enjoyable to be around. His shoulders lose their stiffness as he leans back against the cushioned booth, pure joy scrawled on his youthful face.
“For the record, I don’t truly see you as a piece of meat. It’s a distasteful comparison—an immature gibe, if anything. You’re more than that, but I’m certain you’re aware of this fact.” When you don’t reply, he smiles at you. A real smile, not his usual smirk-grin that he wears for confidence’s sake. “I’d say you’re quite the siren or something akin to a dessert. Sweet and tempting, a tantalizing human with a pretty voice and a pretty pair of legs. From every angle, you really are a painter’s finest work. I’ve found myself immersed.”
Sitting before him, clad in an oversized robe, sleepwear, and fish slippers, you do not feel like a painter’s finest work. Hell, you don’t even fit the classy theme of the Mostro Lounge, and you almost refute his claims outright. But with his gaze pinned entirely on you, you absorb his flattery like a greedy sponge in a puddle.
And with another sip from the flute, your heart pounding out an erratic rhythm and head swimming with elation, you realize you’ve shipwrecked into Azul’s three hearts. Even if his honeyed sentiments are insincere—even if he’s doing all of this to gain your trust and forgiveness—you want him to reciprocate for just a minute.
“It’s nice to feel wanted,” you whisper, and he perks up at the truth you’ve just uttered. “Knowing that someone waits for you and enjoys your company… I guess I just wanted to feel like I mattered here. I can’t use magic like you. I can’t grant wishes or fly on a broom. There’s not a magical bone in my body. For the longest time I felt so…useless and alone. There’s only one thing I am good at here and that’s making everyone else feel wanted. Because when I do that—when I’m able to give everyone else whatever it is they want—it makes me feel like I belong. Like I have a purpose.”
Azul stares at you and the silence that stretches between the two of you is so palpable that you hurry to shove another chocolate into your mouth. Why did I just say all of that? I probably sounded like an idiot. He reaches for your hand and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing.
“But you’re not alone.”
“Not anymore,” you agree, squeezing.
“And who cares whether you can use magic?” Azul exhales noisily. “Honestly, there are plenty of respectable professions out there that don’t require any magic. Plus, the fact that you were even able to come here in the first place is magical enough. Call it destiny or fate or, Sea Witch forbid, ‘luck,’ it’s not every day Night Raven College is graced with a fascination such as yourself. And you’re very wanted! I want you, so don’t think for a minute that you aren’t... Ah. No, that’s not what I—well, it is what I meant. But... S-Stop looking at me like that! Forget I just said that! I meant, I want you as... As a companion. Like a friend! A contractual friend, all right? So stop smiling like a fool!”
He yanks his hand back and picks up his champagne flute, huffing around the rim. A flustered Azul is so very rare, and it’s a rich sight you savor.
“Oh? So we’re friends now?”
“We’re just two souls engaging in mutually beneficial affairs.”
“That’s a very roundabout way of saying we’re friends.”
He raises a loose fist that’s not entirely threatening and your heart floats.
“Azul, I really—” You bite your tongue. “I’m…sorry for calling you an ass and ignoring you. You deserved it, but right now I just want things to go back to normal. That way we can end on positive terms come Valentine’s Day.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He lifts his glass from the table; the golden liquid winks at you as it sloshes with the movement. “Shall we toast to that?”
You raise your flute and the two glasses join with a gentle clink. And it’s at that exact moment when you feel a tightness in your lungs—the kind that’s reminiscent of suffocation and drowning. You down what’s left in your glass before turning your perplexed and slightly unnerved stare on Azul, who regards you with a growing smirk. Just when you thought you’d gotten a glimpse of the real Azul, he returns to his scheming self. Your throat continues to close up despite the liquid that travels down it, and it’s a familiar feeling that brings forth a recollection of your visit to that fantastical museum in the Coral Sea.
Azul reaches for something under the table before passing it to you. It’s another gift wrapped in that same translucent paper from before.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I’d like to see it on you at the very least.” He rises from his seat, fingertips ghosting over your shoulder. “You did say I’d come to understand the allure of lingerie if you wore it for my eyes.”
You listen to his retreating footsteps, wasting no time in tearing the present open. Inside lies a beautiful two-piece in the same shade of purple as Octavinelle’s crest. The top is bejeweled with pale gemstones, beads, and small seashells—polished baubles that glimmer when touched by the light—and strings of pearls hang low from the straps. The bottom is a short, wrap-front sarong skirt. Sequins wink at you when you lift it from the box to feel the sheer material between your forefingers.
It’s innocently modest, almost like a swimsuit, and you wonder what the significance is in this particular set. He must have browsed dozens of types and designs. There’s a reason he does everything, after all. Perhaps this is just a stepping stone in some bigger plan. The mere thought that he’s orchestrated all of this, down to the very foods you indulged in, kindles nervous excitement within you. 
You don’t have any time to admire the design any longer, even if you want nothing more than to gush over its beauty, so you strip as gracefully as possible and change into the outfit. Your sleepwear and robe are discarded in a haphazard pile, and you secure one final chocolate from the table before following the path Azul took. There’s a ladder that leads up to the aquarium and you grab at the sturdy rungs with determined hands, breathless exhilaration fueling every step.
I wonder what his plans are, you ponder once you’ve reached the top, where the yawning mouth of the aquarium waits. Peering down at its illuminated depths, you note a stunning coral reef, dozens of colorful fish, and a spotted eel curled within the rock formation, its mouth parted to reveal rows of razored teeth. It reminds you of the twins.
Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest and you’re about to jump in when a hand fits into yours. Azul spins you around to face him, his other hand settling on your waist. You blink at him, unable to utter anything as your lungs shrivel. You have half of a mind to scold him for such an underhanded method, but you’re too speechlessly awestruck to do so. Instead, you allow him to guide you towards the water’s edge.
“Drown with me,” he whispers and you’re so ready to comply. You want to fall, fall, fall into the deep, spiraling blue. And your wish is granted without the need for deals or signatures. He tugs you against his chest and allows gravity to take the both of you.
With a resonating splash, saltwater envelops you in its whimsical embrace. The fish scatter at once, hiding amongst the reefs and in openings spotting the coral. Your eyes snap open in the water, lips parting in a soundless gasp, and you’re immediately put at ease when breathing comes naturally. Something slips through the bubbles and mist. At first you don’t recognize the creature who regards you with horizontal pupils and sharpened fangs, his beauty suspended in the angelic light as if he’s been frozen in time. But then a tentacle nervously curls around your arm, and your mind reels in an attempt to keep up with the sight that’s currently blessing your eyes.
“Y-Your mer form!” you sputter, reaching out to touch him. He flinches and you stop short, hands grasping water.
“It’s…weird. I’m aware. My apologies. I’m not sure why I assumed this would be a good idea. I just thought that maybe—well, you spilled your emotional guts, and I thought that it would only be fair if I—”
“I don’t think it’s weird.” You hold your hand up and watch as he slowly lifts his palm to meet yours. “You’re still you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He swallows thickly, eyes darting to and fro, unable to settle on your face for more than a minute. “But this form is so… So very undesirable. I’m weak and clumsy and—”
“Beautiful,” you insist, closing your hand around his. “You’re so beautiful.“
Tears well in glassy eyes, an indication of grief withheld for years. You wonder if anyone’s ever told him that before. Or perhaps he’s never allowed anyone to refer to him in such a lovely manner, for when he peers at himself in the mirror he sees the opposite. 
“I don’t need your pitying words.”
“They’re not pitying. They’re the truth.” Maybe it’s because you’re feeling especially emotional tonight or it’s your lack of sleep that has honesty sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t stop yourself from admitting every single thought that crosses your mind. There’s something else that’s dying to escape the confines of your throat, three precious words that are locked away in your heart and are begging to be set free. You almost give in—you want to give in and allow the water to cradle your sentiments as it currently does you—but you can’t. “You’re amazing, Azul. I don’t know of anyone else who’s as dedicated and strong as you are.”
“Yes. Well.” He opens his mouth to retort and whatever self-deprecating excuses he had at the ready dissolve immediately. He shuts his mouth with a sigh.
“I like your true form.” Your fingers trace his jawline, holding his cheek with mounting fondness. “And I think you should like it, too.”
His gaze flickers to your midriff and a trembling tentacle curls tentatively around it. You glance at it as it holds you with such precise care—as if you’re precious pottery that might shatter at the slightest touch.
“But I hurt you,” he whispers mournfully. “Back then when I…”
Your head snaps up to view him. He averts his eyes at once, cowed into humiliated submission. You weren’t expecting he’d remember and you certainly didn’t think he had noticed your pain all that time ago. Has the guilt always lingered with him? Has he always been crushed with that memory?
“You remembered,” you mumble in disbelief, yet your voice sounds louder in the surrounding water. Almost as if you’ve been enveloped in a bubble. In fact, now that you’re realizing it, you don’t feel nearly as wet as you should. The lingerie isn’t sticking to your skin, soaked through with saltwater, and your hair is still in pristine condition. You surmise some unknown enchantment is to blame for this puzzling coincidence.
“Of course!” His tone rises in pitch, bordering manic panic. “How could I not? I was so cruel to you. Even if I wasn’t truly conscious for most of it, the fact still stands that I hurt you and endangered so many others. But I… I was just so terrified. Terrified of losing you like I’d lost my contracts…”
“Azul…”
“And to go so long without properly apologizing—horrible! Absolutely disgraceful,” he adds with great haste. “That’s why this form… It’s not pretty. It’s not cute. It’s ugly and gross and squishy. I hate it. It’s only good for causing harm. That’s why I—”
“Azul!” He snaps back to his senses when you place your hands in his and gingerly guide them to your mouth. And then you place a single kiss upon each. He nearly melts into a puddle of weepy octopus. “None of what you say is true. You’re lying to yourself.”
“I’m not,” he says, but his voice falters. “I... It’s not proper to say things you don’t mean. I’d much rather you tell me I’m hideous now than continue dragging this nonsense out any longer.”
“Oh, Azul, delusion is not a pretty look on you.” 
“So... So you don’t find me repulsive?” he ventures nervously. “You truly, honestly don’t?”
“Not at all. You take my breath away. Literally.”
His tentacle comes down upon your thigh in a soft smack. It’s a lighthearted admonishment, coupled with an unamused groan, and you find yourself laughing in delight.
“Can we make another deal?” 
“That depends. What will this deal entail?”
“You can kiss me as much as you’d like, but you must first look me in the eyes and tell me that you’re beautiful. And you have to mean it.”
“What? Why? That’s—” His protests die in his throat. “I suppose...I can do without kissing for tonight.”
“How about this? Repeat after me.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not going to—”
“I, Azul Ashengrotto, am beautiful and wonderful and smart.” A delicate smile sprouts on your lips. “Go on. Your turn.”
He exhales dramatically, a bluish tint settling on his cheeks, and parrots the affirmation in a shaky mumble. 
“And I’m not ugly, gross, or squishy.”
“And... Ugh. Honestly, (Name), this is completely senseless! What good is this going to do?”
“If you want to accept compliments, you have to accept your reflection first because it’s what the mirror will always show you whether you like it or not. And mirrors never lie. Your mer form is perfect as is, and so are you, Azul.” You lean in to press your lips against his cheek. His frown wavers. “I like you for you. That’s the truth. And I’m honored you’d feel comfortable enough to show me this form. That means a lot.”
Azul’s shoulders tremble with his inhalation, and you think he might cry. But after composing himself and chasing away creeping waterworks, he places his hands on your shoulders, sliding further down to caress your arms. He’s examining you like one might a rare luxury, handling you as though you’re a priceless artifact he’s only just unearthed from the murky depths of the ocean, and there is a certain glint in his eyes—one that reflects the truth in your heart.
“You’re perfect...” he admits suddenly. “You’re so perfect. Far more beautiful than I could ever be.” You open your mouth to object, but the tip of one of his tentacles prods at your lips to shush you. “I understand the appeal of lingerie now. It’s very nice on the eyes.”
“I told you you’d like it.” You kiss the tentacle briefly. It jolts in response, drawing back only slightly so that he may observe your pretty lips as they curl up in a wicked smirk. “But you’re avoiding our deal. To think the master of contracts would do such a thing...”
“I don’t recall agreeing. We never even shook hands, therefore it has no relevance.” He peers at you for a short while before sighing, the tension in his shoulders slackening. “But if what you say is true... If you really don’t find me unattractive... I... I suppose I can be beautiful. For tonight.”
“Just tonight? Why not forever?”
“Because forever is much too long of a delusion.”
“Whether human or mer, you’ll always be beautiful to me.”
Azul exhales a disbelieving laugh. “You sycophant... You really are a siren, aren’t you?”
“I learned from the best.”
His eyes roll, but there isn’t annoyance in the act. Rather, a lopsided smile stretches on his face and his blue eyes are alight in the ethereal glow of the water. You touch one of his hands, admiring the seamless transition from black to grey. His skin looks so sleek—almost like the wax job of a newly built ship—and you’re certain that if you were to watch him swim he’d cut through the water without hindrance.
And to think that you get to experience Azul in such an intimate setting. You’d never have imagined this is where you would be with him last year, where you’d previously been at one another’s throats. Call it unresolved sexual tension or Azul’s determination to get you to sign a contract, but you’d avoided him and all that he was solely to prevent yourself from falling into one of his schemes. Now that you’re here with him, you realize the nature of your arrangement has only gotten so much more comfortable since you first started. It doesn’t feel like an obligation anymore. It doesn’t feel like he might cheat you out of something.
It really feels like he might feel the same things you feel. Or, at the very least, you can delude yourself into false hope, a balm that pairs nicely with the cracks in your heart—cracks that only Azul seems capable of filling in this moment.
“I’d like to try something,” he murmurs, his voice muffled in the water. You nod mutely, and a nervous smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Anxiety does not suit a suave individual like Azul, but you suppose all negative feelings are undeserving of residence on such a handsome countenance. A tentacle traces up the length of your leg, slowly, enticingly, winding like ivy along a garden trellis, and he inhales a shuddering breath. “Would you... Ah, well, if you wouldn’t be opposed to this... Would you maybe, possibly, hopefully like to...”
“Fuck in your mer form?” you finish and he blanches, his eyebrows knitting in disdain.
“When you put it like that, it sounds so vulgar.”
“I’m sorry. Would you have preferred ‘make love’ instead?”
Azul pinches your cheek in what can only be considered lighthearted scolding. “I would have, yes. Very much so.”
You open your mouth to correct him—but this arrangement isn’t built on love—and promptly close it. You’re certain he’s well aware of that, even if it isn’t spoken outright. Instead, you throw your arms around his neck to mold yourself against him, to feel his hearts beating against yours.
“But only the tip. I don’t think I could do any more than that.”
“Is that so? What a pity,” he teases, and you scoff at him. “Perhaps we should add another month to our agreement? That would be more than enough time to properly accommodate that tight, little space between your legs...”
“Now who’s the vulgar one?” You press your forehead against his and swallow the truth. “Two months is enough.” But it’d be nice to do this forever.
He pouts at you—truly pouts!—and says, “The tip it is.” And then he’s glancing at your lips. “May I kiss you?”
“Kiss me until I’m dizzy.”
He seals what remains of the distance, a mere sliver of space, and you melt into him. His mouth is sweet against yours, a missing piece that finally completes your puzzle, and you tangle your tongue with his, sighing into him as though the sound is enough to keep the both of you afloat. Unlike the floral flavor from your first few kisses, his mouth tastes of chocolate and some fruity drink—pineapple, most likely.
You pull away briefly to catch your breath. He’s staring at you so intently now, horizontal pupils flicking about your body as if scanning you. He looks good without his glasses you’ve realized. But then Azul always looks good regardless of whether or not he’s wearing his glasses, and it’s a happy thought that trickles through your head like a stream slicing through a mountain.
“I won’t hurt you this time,” he whispers, and a tentacle curls around your hand, lifting it to his lips so that he may place a tender kiss upon it. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”
“I trust you.”
“A horrible decision, really.”
“Should I be scared instead?”
“Now there’s a question.” He hums and runs his fingers along your throat, a sly smirk settling on his face. “Fear is very delicious to us creatures from the deep. I wonder how yours might taste... Will it be salty or sweet?”
“Who knows,” you say in a sing-song. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself...”
He’s decorated you in his tentacles, twining them around your legs and waist, and it occurs to you that escape is impossible. But no matter how intimidating he may act, you could never be frightened by his real form. Even if he has the strength to subject you to a bruising death, he holds you so carefully, merely exploring every inch of you with curious touches and suctions. His hands cradle your face, pulling you in for another candied kiss, and your fingers wrap around his wrists to keep him there while you exchange breath as if the both of you are the only oxygen sources to exist in this wondrous world. 
And this time he isn’t wearing gloves, and you’re no longer standing on the other side of the Do Not Cross line in the museum that confines his portrait. Now you’re right in front of him, offering yourself as a sacrifice at an underwater altar, and there aren’t any thresholds you must work to overcome. Even if there are still mysteries yet to be uncovered—and you can’t say you know Azul as well as you would like to—you’re astonished that such a relationship like the one you began with him could ever blossom into something so perfect.
Maybe Azul was the key to your heart all along—the single variable needed to solve the complex romance equation you’ve been unable to answer. 
A stray tentacle slithers beneath the fine fabric of the sarong skirt, coiling between your thighs, and Azul smiles to himself as he curls another around your chest, the tapered tip sliding under the bra studded with remnants of the sea to take hold of your breast. 
“Did you know,” he says conversationally, “that an octo-mer can taste with every sucker?”
“Really? Then I expect you to tell me my entire flavor profile by the end of this.”
He laughs a mystic laugh that surrounds you like wool stretching around your head, muffling all outside noise. You reach blindly for one of the few free appendages, to which he obliges and wraps one around your forearm, constricting good-naturedly. You guide this one to your other breast so that he may toy with both of your puffy nipples. He wastes no time in fondling you, utilizing his suckers in even succession. One moment you can feel the intensity of the suction as it squeezes you and then it relents, only to come back much fiercer. A people-pleaser to the core, he seems to be well aware of every touch you find pleasurable, and the idea that he may have found some covert way to study you in order to glean this secret information sparks gratification. 
Perhaps he, too, has watched you from his own boundary, unable to indulge in the museum that houses your brilliance for reasons that will remain unknown to you.
Another tentacle finds your other hand—the one that isn’t currently stroking the tentacle that bestows tantalizing touches to your breasts—and briefly you’re considering how he can keep track of so many limbs. But you’d expect nothing less of Azul, who’s had years to master the art of multitasking with ten arms at his disposal.
The tentacle between your legs pokes curiously at your clit, and you inhale a quavery breath.
“This nub...” he mumbles, partially to himself, as if he’s in awe of the sexual anatomy that composes the human form. “Your pretty, little pearl...”
Your hand covers his tentacle, halting his exploration. His eyes flick up to meet your wide grin. “Did you...call the clit a pearl?” A giggle rises in your throat, and his face colors the deepest shade of blue. 
“D-Don’t laugh! I’m trying to...” He looks away, chewing his lip. “Trying to be romantic...”
“No, no. It’s plenty romantic.” You bring it back to your thighs, pressing the sucker-lined side flat against your slit. Azul sucks in a sharp gasp. “You’re so cute, Azul.”
That seems to fluster him even more, for he pushes the tip of one of his tentacles past your lips, effectively silencing you. Never one to pass on an opportunity for teasing, you run your tongue along the underside. The contact has Azul suppressing a delighted shudder.
“You really are so peculiar,” he mutters, but there is an incredible amount of adoration twined throughout every syllable. “To call someone like me ‘cute’ without a shred of apprehension...”
Azul tuts at you, taking note of the half-lidded stare you level him with when your eyes meet, and he strokes along your pussy slowly. The lazy swipes are accompanied by another tentacle, its tip rubbing perfect circles into your clit, and you grind down against every limb satisfying your lower region out of carnal instinct. 
“I find you much cuter when you’re like this, restrained and at my mercy.” He tilts his head to survey you from another angle, blue hues observing every tentacle that’s laced itself around your body, sliding between your thighs, breasts, and even your armpits. You remain in the very center of such a desirable piece of art, working diligently to lather the tentacle thrusting into your mouth with as much saliva as possible. Though it’s impossible to tell whether you’re successful in your endeavor when it mixes so freely in the water. You think you’re doing well because there’s a breathiness to his next words that has you humming in satisfaction. “Although my surroundings seem so empty without your pretty voice to fill the silence. That’s most unfortunate.”
He’s flattering you now, laying lovely adjectives on his phrasings as if he wasn’t the one to silence you in the first place. But for once you’re glad to have been quieted because it allows you to focus on his electrifying touches while he speaks. To think you were once so averse to his voice solely because of its grand intonation and the snarky, backhanded remarks that would always fill the spaces in his sentences. 
“I suppose it wouldn’t be very fair to call you Miss Megamouth right now...” He chuckles to himself, bringing his knuckle to your hollowed cheek to pat it endearingly. “And you aren’t a clownfish either, certainly not when you’re dressed as—how do you humans call it? ‘Eye candy,’ was it? So then that would make you my tempting siren or my sweet, little mermaid. Which do you prefer?”
How about angelfish? you try to say around the thick appendage, and by some marine miracle your suggestion does not go unheard. 
“Angelfish! Isn’t that beautiful? And so very fitting, too.” 
You've never seen so much innate tenderness settle on his face before, softening his gaze and adding another exquisite level to his beauty, and it’s a scarce sight you engrave into your memory so that it will linger for years to come.
Azul presses his lips to your forehead, sighing blissfully when you squeeze your legs shut to lock the tentacles between your thighs in place. 
“I’d like to call you that forever... May I?”
The tentacle in your mouth withdraws, much to your disappointment, so that you may provide him with a response. 
“Of course. But I’m going to miss the other names you’ve given me.”
“Those aren’t going anywhere.” He offers you a small smile. “I’ll admit I’ve grown rather attached to them.”
“Then... Can I call you something, too?”
His hand fits into your awaiting one and he presses his body flush against you. “You may call me yours.”
Even though you know you’re treading a dangerous line, you wrap your arms around his neck and mumble into his mouth, “I like the sound of that.”
He fits his lips on yours again and the last of your apprehensions wither away. You kiss until you’re dazed and breathless, clinging to him as if you’re intoxicated. Every one of your sighs and moans are swallowed in heated, open-mouthed kisses, each more sloppy than the last. He’s still massaging your pleasure points with a dozen circular suckers, all of them attaching to you like persistent barnacles, and you arch into his grasp, a string of pleasant praises falling from your lips. 
“Feels good... Really good. Hah...”
You grab at him for another kiss, and he closes the gap in seconds, his hand resting upon your lower back to keep you pinned against him. Your fingers tangle through his hair, and it is indeed softer than the clouds above. You think he might have been modeled after a deity because it’s nearly impossible to fathom how he can look and sound so divine, even in the midst of mindless ecstasy. You’d worship him entirely if you could, though you know that doing so would only feed his ego. But maybe you want to inflate it a little, if only to be granted the smiles and laughter you’ve fallen for ever since you found yourself trapped in the net he’s cast. 
Azul does not suppress his needy whimpers when he separates from you, his face twisting into the approximation of blissful desperation when he drags a thicker tentacle along the lips of your pussy. You moan around a teasing remark, your own playful composure slipping into submission.
“Wanna put it in,” he mumbles hastily, nearly panting his desire, and he’s flushed blue from stimulation. “Please, angelfish...”
“Mm, yeah... G-Go ahead.” 
More tentacles hold you steady in the water, and you peer deep into his sea-tinted hues, hoping to catch sight of his very soul. 
“Just...take a deep breath. I’ll be gentle. It’ll fit.”
“You look like you’re holding back. Am I that tempting?”
He sighs dreamily. “You have no idea how much I wish to ruin you right now.” The tip prods at your entrance; you bite your tongue in anticipation. “I want nothing more than to stretch you wide enough so that no one else will be able to ever again—to mark you from the very inside so that you’ll be addicted to my every touch. That way—” It pushes past rings of tight muscle and a subdued groan spills from his lips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and you’re certain you’re leaving half moons in his skin. If it hurts, Azul doesn’t seem bothered by the pain. Instead, he holds you even closer, peppering your face with dozens of fleeting kisses. “That way... Haah. That way you’d only look at me. You’d only need me to properly fill you. No one else could ever satisfy you like I can...”
Most of his ramblings fall on deaf ears, for you’re so focused on the way your pussy stretches to accommodate him. He’s much bigger than any human male, but that’s to be expected considering he’s not fully human, and even if the stretch is more uncomfortable than you thought it’d be his attentive touches distract you from most of the ache. You pull him in for another kiss, squeezing your eyes shut, but then the tentacle working its way inside you suddenly bottoms out so deeply that you tear yourself away from him, choking on a gasping moan. You bury your face in his shoulder, crying out in a mixture of pleasured pain, and Azul brings a hand to the back of your head, stroking slowly. 
“You’re doing so... Mmh... So well, angelfish. I told you it would fit without issue.”
“That...was way more than just the tip!” you hiss, and his delirious laugh comes out strangled.
“And yet it went in so easily! We were made for each other. See?” He rocks the tentacle once and it fills you entirely, further stretching your gummy walls. When you pull away to survey it you can see its outline bulging against your stomach. Azul sighs happily. “You’re so pretty... And all mine. Mine to mark and fill forever.”
All you can manage in response is another feeble whine. 
His hand comes to rest on your stomach. “When you’re officially mine, I’ll kiss you here every night.” To cement this promise, the tentacle pokes at the spongy opening to your cervix and you melt in his hold. His deceptive blues flit to your eyes, which then admire your lips and then your stomach and then the way your pussy has swallowed so much of the tentacle that’s writhing within you, and a smirk sharpens on his lips. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my dearest angelfish?”
“Yes. Of course. Always,” you babble dumbly, numb to rationality. “That sounds like... Aah, like a dream.”
You roll your hips in an effort to take more of him, and he responds by thrusting the tentacle in and out of you, searching for a suitable pace. Any other words quickly melt in your mouth, reduced to mindless utterances of pleasure. Azul’s self-control seems to be slipping much like your own logical nature because he’s gripping you tighter than he was before, his tentacles curled possessively around every inch of you, as if he must mold himself to your form to truly connect as one with you. He’s tugged your bra down in his impatience and your breasts spill out with newfound freedom, though both are quickly covered by a reaching tentacle. His suckers affix to your nipples, and you throw your head back in pure bliss. 
“It’s a dream that will soon be our reality,” he whispers, and a tentacle grasps your chin to guide you into another messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.
You lick into his mouth with desperate fervor, swallowing the taste of him with every magnetizing connection of your lips. The tentacle that pistons in and out of you continues to batter your sensitive cunt, leaving you clawing at his back as you move your hips to the best of your ability, shamelessly moaning the filthiest of things. How good it is. How you never want this moment to end. How no one else could ever fuck you as good as Azul can. You think, for a split second, you’re losing your mind because Azul is the only one whose image is imprinted in your brain, strung up in your thoughts like a constellation in the night sky. 
You’ve never felt so overwhelmingly full before, and you’re almost certain that by the end of this you won’t be able to think of anyone else because there isn’t any other person who can possibly compete with Azul’s octo-mer form. 
At some point, amidst every delicious suction and touch, you can feel your climax mounting, and Azul moans so salaciously when you tighten around him. But just before you cum, he’s suddenly pulled out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You stifle your disappointed whimper when he turns you so that your backside is pressed against his front. Two tentacles curl around your legs, spreading them wide, and another set hold your arms apart. He embraces you from behind, hands closing around your breasts, and the tentacle slides in in another quick, deep thrust that has your vision whitening.
Azul’s lips practically sear your neck when his teeth graze your bare skin. “Octo-mers are venomous,” he warns, as if it’s a reminder you ought to remember. “But I’d never—mmh—never hurt you. Just wanna keep you numb and dumb for me. Numb so that you can’t run away and—” He breaks off with a whimper, panting wet, hot breaths in your ear. “And dumb so—hah—dumb so...”
He’s quickly derailed from his ramblings, his pace having spiraled into something erratic and quick, and the tentacle is practically pummeling your cervix now. You’re crying in his arms, a broken wail ripping from your throat when he sinks his fanged teeth into your neck to muffle his own waterfall of love cries as he fucks into you a few more times. Another tentacle splays across your stomach, cradling it gently, while the one inside you stills at the entrance to your womb, filling you to the brim with copious amounts of viscous cum. There’s so much that it leaves you completely stuffed, and when you gaze at your stomach through teary eyes it’s bloated in a way that makes you appear pregnant. 
In the midst of your own orgasm, which descends upon you so suddenly that it has you squealing, you manage a few semi-coherent phrases, all admitted in a garbled rush: “Please fuck me forever! You feel so good! Oh, I’m... I’m cumming!” You stiffen against him, struggling to catch your breath, while the tentacle limply fucks you through the aftermath. “L-Love you... I love you, Azul!”
“Me too!” he exclaims, gasping, and tilts your head so that he can capture your lips once more. You taste salt, ink, and blood all at once, and the contrasting flavors linger on your tongue when he pulls away. “You’re my everything... My perfect, pretty angelfish...”
You’ve never been anyone’s everything before, but right now you want to be exactly that for him. That, and so much more.
“Do you really mean it?” you whisper hoarsely, still catching your breath. Every word seems to dry up in your mouth, as if your own voice is shriveling from the sheer amount of stress it’s undergone. You wouldn’t be surprised if it’s reduced to a mere mumble come morning. “Do you like me?”
“Did I say that?” he teases, and you squirm in his grasp. He laughs and strokes your stomach to settle you. “Humans and their loveless sex traditions continue to baffle me. I couldn’t possibly picture myself chasing a relationship in which love is nonexistent.”
“We call those one-night stands.”
“Fascinating. Where I’m from, we refer to such relations as ‘eat or be eaten.’” A dark fingernail traces its way from your hip up to your ribs. “Shall I devour you now that we’ve thoroughly enjoyed ourselves?”
“If that’s the case, have fun tasting all of the cum you’ve emptied in me,” you joke and he stiffens, his face coloring blue. You crane your neck to shoot a disapproving look at him. “You really had no issue cumming inside, Mr. Azul ‘Just the Tip’ Ashengrotto.”
“Yes, yes. Forgive me for succumbing to my instincts.” He rolls his eyes with an indignant huff, a grin settling on his flustered features. “If you’re so worried, you can choose from all sorts of contraceptives, some more magical than others.”
“They better be magical! With how much you came I wouldn’t be surprised if I was pregnant within the next few weeks.”
“Could you imagine?” he muses, spinning you to face him. The tentacle inside you twitches, but he doesn’t remove it. “The two of us. Parents.”
“We’ve skipped ahead too many chapters. I can’t even keep Ramshackle in good shape!”
“And yet there’s no one else I’d rather tackle parenthood with than you.”
You sandwich his face between your hands. He reaches up to touch each hand, his larger ones covering yours. For a long minute, the two of you hold eye contact until, eventually, you exhale noisily. There’s a numbness that’s become increasingly prevalent and is slowly spreading its roots with every passing second, and you suspect Azul is to blame. 
“Azul, you didn’t.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, my dear.”
“‘Octo-mers are venomous,’” you repeat in a silly tone, and that prompts a devious smirk from him.
The tentacle inside you slides out, and you shudder bonelessly against him. Its slick tip prods at your lips next.
“Let’s continue our lesson from the library. I do hope you’ve taken adequate notes. You’ll need them if you want to recall octo-mer anatomy. But since I’m so very generous, I’d be more than willing to thoroughly teach you.”
Azul is just as insatiable as he is cunning.
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Rustling sheets rouse you from your slumber. You blink through crusted eyelids and snuff the groggy yawn that rises in your throat, peering at the figure who lies on his side, his stare fixed on you. A smile softens his features when he notices you’ve awoken and he reaches out to pet your cheek. 
“Good morning, my dear. Actually, I should say good afternoon. It’s rather late in the day, but you deserve to sleep in. You had a long night.” 
It was definitely long, you think, recalling what felt like hours of endless sex. You’re not sure how you wound up in Azul’s room, where the scents of sea salt and chamomile tea combine effortlessly, but you think he might have carried you here after your late-night tryst. Your memory halts at the moment when you went limp in his arms and he’d stilled inside you to spatter your walls with thick, plentiful amounts of cum. After that, though, reality falls away and you’d found yourself swimming weightlessly in a dream composed of calm oceans and a breathtaking coral reef beneath still waters. Now, lying beside him in his bed, underneath a shell-like canopy that obstructs the ceiling’s light fixture, you bury your face in the pillows, thoroughly worn to exhaustion. Azul’s melodious chuckle fills your ears. 
“You tasted like the sweetest pudding,” he adds cheekily. “A little salty as well. It was very delicious.”
The callback to an old joke has you swatting lazily at him. 
No fair. You’re supposed to be the one who tastes like pudding, you try to say, only nothing comes out. You lift your head and attempt to speak again. Like before, there isn’t a single sound that tumbles from your open mouth. Confusion dawns on you slowly, almost like a rising sun, and you grab at your throat to try to force the words out. All you can do is open and close your mouth uselessly, and your befuddlement quickly morphs into raw horror. 
Azul smiles and props himself on his elbows, head tilted curiously. “What’s that? You’ll have to speak up. I’m afraid I can’t hear you.” 
I can’t speak! you want to shout, but it’s become impossible to will your tongue into action. You clamp your lips shut and glare, hoping one question comes across clearly: What did you do?
“I suppose you’re looking for this, right?” He reaches under his pillow and withdraws a nautilus pendant. It glows faintly when he fastens it around his neck. When he speaks next he sounds exactly like you, even down to the breathy lust your tone had taken on while you were in the throes of an orgasmic high. “‘Please fuck me forever. You feel so good! Oh, I’m cumming! L-Love you... I love you, Azul!’” He clears his throat and his voice deepens. “As musical as these words are, one of those phrases is forbidden. You’ve violated our contract, my dear, and so now your voice is mine to keep. I promise to take good care of it while it’s in my possession.”
Foolishly, you open your mouth to exclaim, but he cuts you off with your voice.
“‘But I never even offered my voice as collateral! You can’t take what isn’t yours!’ is what you wish to say, yes? On the contrary, if you’ll recall, I specifically told you that uttering the phrase ‘I love you’ would lead to this mishap.”
You said no such thing, you think bitterly, but then you’re hit with his cryptic warning from long ago: It’s best if you keep your voice for other admissions, lest you find it locked away for all of eternity. Upon realizing that he’d dangled the truth in front of you from the very start, you bring your hands to your face in hopes of scrubbing the regret from your muscles. You were too absorbed in trying to maneuver his mischief back then that you failed to pay closer attention to his wording, and now it’s landed you right in the trap you were attempting to avoid. I messed up. I messed up big time.
“Your voice really is marvelous! I could get away with so much now that it’s mine to use. Where should I start? Ah, perhaps I should call some of your friends and tell them how much (Name) can’t stand to be with them? Or maybe it would be better to ruin your little ‘business’ before it can spiral out of control. Better yet, I should just—”
You lunge at him without much forethought, scrabbling for the necklace in a blind, frustrated panic. Azul laughs at your desperation, a little too pleased to engage in the scuffle. You’ve managed to pin him beneath you, your hands curled so tightly around his arms that your knuckles grow sore from the sheer pressure of your grip. He looks up at you, a mocking grin pulling his lips apart—lips you’d kissed more times than you’re able to count. Lips that you’d thought would be truthful for one night. Lips that run faster when telling perfectly orchestrated lies.
Azul’s gaze crawls down your neck, where a dozen circular-shaped bruises paint your flesh, evidence of the areas his suckers had once lavished with tight suctions.
“There’s no need to be so aggressive, Miss Megamouth. If you wanted me that badly, you could have just said so. Oh, wait. You can’t.”
You slimy cephalo-punk! You sneer at him, a dozen curses trapped on your tastebuds. I never should’ve trusted you!
Part of you wants to slap him, but the other part—the part that still clings to the affection you received last night—has you restraining the violent urge. Angry tears well up in your eyes instead and you release him, sitting back on your haunches. You wrap your arms around yourself despite the sheer, lacy robe that provides a semblance of cover. He was right. You really can’t beat him at his own game. 
“Don’t look so glum. Fortunately, I’m willing to negotiate an exchange.” He sits up, smooths the wrinkles in his nightwear, and removes the pendant. It’s dangled before you, the charm twisting innocently, and you reach for it, only for it to be ripped away with an accompanying tut. “Not so fast. If you want your voice, you’ll have to give me something of equal value.”
What could possibly have the same worth as my voice? your disbelieving expression seems to inquire. 
Azul grins and leans down to procure something from the safe at his bedside. A golden contract scroll winks at you under the light, and you throw your head back with a silent groan. 
Another deal. Of course. What was I expecting?
“I’ve given the road that lies ahead plenty of thought, and I’ve realized that I can’t imagine a future without you. Since you were quite vocal about your feelings for me—” He stops short to peer past the contract and at you, a single brow raised. “That was the truth, was it not?”
Slowly, you nod, suddenly hot with embarrassment. You’ve never truly despised Azul. In fact, ever since you signed his contract and became his friend with benefits, you’ve found yourself falling even further into an unexplainable love. Even now, when he holds full control over your vocal fate, you want nothing more than to pull him under the duvet and make a mess out of him in this luxurious bedroom. By some strange miracle—perhaps it’s the delusional film that’s obscured your eyes ever since you met him, twisting his every trick into something attractive—you find yourself admiring the air of self-satisfaction that surrounds him. 
Azul’s next smile is far more sweeter than its predecessor. “Good. In that case, I also love you.”
Your reaction must have betrayed your true thoughts because he barks out an amused laugh. 
“Is it really so surprising? I’ve loved you for quite some time now.” 
For once you’re relieved he has your voice because it prevents you from sounding like a flustered, speechless mess. All this time and he actually liked me? Azul likes me. Me, who can’t compete with him on any level? It almost sounds like a cruel joke.
“Did you think my flattery and gifts were empty and meaningless? I can assure you that everything I’ve said—every compliment and sweet nothing—has been the undeniable truth.”
You narrow your eyes at him. 
“I’m serious! You’re so critical. That stings, angelfish.” As wounded as he looks, he’s quick to recover, shoving the contract at you for your perusal. You read through every line. “Fret not. I’ve drafted another arrangement that will benefit the both of us. In exchange for your voice, our current relationship will be nullified and we will officially become lovers. You’re to put an end to your affairs with the other students. From now on, I’ll help you with every problem that comes your way. Although it would be very convenient if you could just move into Octavinelle and take up a job at the lounge. We’d be much closer. I promise I’m a very kind boss. You’ll be paid wonderfully, both in and out of the lounge.”
You glance at him, brows furrowed. Is that really all he wants? A real relationship and for me to stop getting involved with everyone else? As ideal as that sounds, it feels a little too good to be true. But what other options do you have? Without your voice, you’re powerless and vulnerable, unable to stand up for yourself when the students get too rowdy. You’d be forced to agree to your friends’ every whims, and that would mean allowing Grim to empty your monthly budget on whatever it is he happens to be craving at that moment. It’s a predicament with plenty of terrible outcomes, and the only thing that can prevent such an issue is your voice. 
“You look at me with such distrust. I was very transparent with our first contract, was I not?”
He was, in a way. You look between him and the contract. It’s shorter than the previous one, every term outlined stiffly in cursive. This one feels too simple to be a contract drafted by Azul’s intelligent hand, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe things will only get complicated after you’ve signed and have found yourself in another inescapable mess. 
But isn’t this a good thing? You like him and he likes you. He can grant your every wish and this time you won’t have to forsake your own pleasure in order to ensure his needs are met. And you won’t have to tiptoe around his deceit. The both of you will be in equal standing, in a relationship where honesty and mutual understanding are valuable facets of a loving bond. You like him, after all, and he likes you.
So why does your love feel empty and insincere? Why does it feel like you’ve woken from a long, everlasting dream to face the harsh backhand reality serves?
Azul twirls his magic pen and that mystical fishbone pen materializes. Its tip is already stained in ink and it’s poised just above the parchment. You look at him again and he nods encouragingly. 
“I meant it when I said I love you, and I will continue to mean it for the rest of my days.” He reaches for your hand and you flinch away. This stops him, and he narrows his eyes at you, perplexed. “I will always love you, angelfish. You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”
You wish you could force him to prove it, but even then you’re not sure what else he could possibly do. But then you realize something and you pantomime writing. Azul catches on rather quickly because a ballpoint pen and a notepad appear before you. Hurriedly, you scribble something on an empty page before turning it towards him.
If I sign your contract, you have to promise no more tricks. And you have to get me the most magical contraceptive you have. And you have to be a good boyfriend.
“No more tricks. You’ll get the best of the best, both from the contraceptive and me,” he promises, and this time there isn’t any malice behind his smile.
And I won’t lose my voice again in the future? is the following written inquiry.
“Not unless you scream yourself silent the next time we—” Your unimpressed scowl cuts the rest of that sentence short. He chuckles and takes your hand in his. Your other grasps the fishbone pen. “Do we have a deal, my dear?”
You look from the notepad to the contract, where a nameless line awaits your penmanship. There’s a weird ache in your gut—a foreboding dread that has you hesitating. Azul seemed so angelic last night, but in the crisp light of his bedroom he’s a devil with concealed horns. 
Do you honestly love him, or was that simply something you uttered in the heat of the moment? Why is your love for him beginning to shrivel after it’s been growing for weeks? And why are you no longer happy to know he reciprocates your feelings?
I need my voice, you think, disregarding every other doubt. That’s all that matters right now. I’ll figure out my heart later.
You scrawl your name on the glimmering parchment, and like before it rolls itself up and Azul snatches it with a pleased hum. You watch him place it within the safe, which soon closes and locks with an echoing bang. Before you can theorize what the combination to open it is, he stands with the pendant clutched in a resolute fist.
“How unfortunate that I must break a perfectly good shell...” At your impatient glare, he raises his hands in surrender. “Very well. I’ll return it now. You wouldn’t be Miss Megamouth without your voice.” 
With just a little more pressure he smashes the nautilus into a dozen brittle pieces, and from the debris your voice comes trickling through in an aureate fog. It surrounds you momentarily, like the smoke from a cigarette, before slipping through your open mouth, down your esophagus, and into your very being. You cough once, clear your throat, and croak your first words out. 
“Did it work?” Upon hearing your rough pronunciation, you exhale a relieved sigh. “Yes, it’s back! Thank you!” Your happiness is short-lived, though, because you’re quick to turn your ire on Azul. He allows you to grab a fistful of his shirt and drag him up to your face. “Don’t ever take my voice again, you slimy sea creature.”
Azul smirks and leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “So cruel. And after all we’ve been through...”
“Ugh. Whatever.” You release him and fall back onto his bed with a tired groan. “Seriously... That was terrifying.”
“I’ll get you something to drink so that your voice won’t be so gruff. Is tea sufficient?”
“What’s the catch?”
Azul clicks his tongue. “Must you be so wary of me? Can’t I do something nice for my dearest angelfish?”
“No, but you can certainly find some way to attach a dozen strings to a single cup of tea.” 
“You know me so well, but this time I don’t need anything in return. I’m simply doing you a favor.”
You peer at him from where you lay. “Okay. I’ll take a cup then. You know the way I like it?”
“Of course. I’m nothing if not observant. I’ve brewed more than enough tea for you to know your preferences, down to the exact temperature.”
You nod, not quite listening to his boasting, and let your arm fall over your eyes. Azul steps out without another word, leaving you to dwell on the past few minutes. Though the contents of this second contract don’t sit right with you, you push your uneasiness aside in favor of focusing on the fact that Azul has admired you for a while now. You never would have guessed he’d loved you in silence because you only saw him as a lying cheat. Naturally, if he were to confess back then, you probably would have assumed he was trying to enlist your help with something. Either that, or he genuinely wanted to make your life miserable by subjecting you to some obscure con.
You wonder what part of you captured his heart. You’d made your dislike and distrust of him very clear, and you’d sneered at him every time he attempted to rope you into a scheme involving the Mostro Lounge and Ramshackle Dorm—it was something about a temporary branch café, but you wanted him and his grimy, slimy tentacles to stay far away from the property. Maybe his Overblot really did awaken something in him. Maybe he’d fallen in love with the you who was kind and patient—the you who visited his bedside every day while he recovered. Or maybe it was the you who soon became known for not-so-secret exchanges. Maybe he simply fell in love with the idea of squashing another business competitor. How that could happen is beyond you. 
But then, if he really has loved you all this time, why did he want to engage in friends with benefits in the first place? It must have been awkward for him each time you’d come to service him, especially since you merely saw it as a contractual obligation. Had he pretended there was more to the act? Were his feelings for you the reason he treated you so carefully whenever you’d meet—so lovingly and sweetly?
At the very beginning of this, you vowed to undo every lock that kept the many facets of his personality hidden away. And even though you’ve come to learn some of his secrets, there are still so many things left for you to discover. 
But do I really love him? It’s a haunting question—a lock that binds your heart and prevents you from unraveling the truth. Though with this one, you’re not quite sure you want an answer.
Azul returns with the tea and a pill, and you take both from him with a grateful smile. It tastes as it always does: floral and deliciously enticing. The fragrance soothes your frazzled mind, warming it to the thought of a relationship with Azul.
We’re dating now, you realize, awestruck. We’re dating... 
“I feel like I’ve just finished sucking your dick,” you say, and he exhales a long sigh.
“I was going to say something far more romantic, yet here you are spouting obscenity.”
“But doesn’t it remind you of that? You’d always get me tea after our meetings.”
“Only because you were so intent on swallowing every time.”
“And you found it attractive every time.”
“Yes, yes. Spare me your ridicule.”
Now that you’re looking at him, with his unkempt hair and silken nightwear, the feelings you’ve attempted to stifle with uncertainty come swelling to the surface. He’s your boyfriend now. He’s yours. All yours to love and kiss and hold. All yours to tease and laugh with. He's the chisel who has finally sculpted you anew, filling your shattered heart with overwhelming sweetness, and this time you won’t turn away from it. 
You open your mouth to ask a single question, but Azul beats you to it.
“May I kiss you?”
Grinning, you set your empty cup on his desk and tug him into bed. His arms lock you in a comforting cage, and he stares down at you with a lovesick smile. You hook your arms around his neck, mirroring his infatuation.
“Kiss me drunk, clownfish.”
A collection of empty bottles is locked away in Azul’s desk drawer, respectively labeled Love Potion. The intolerable flavor mixes well with floral teas, but that’s a trade secret you’ll never need to know.
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axlerica · 1 year
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CANARY ISLAND ~ PART 4
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-Sorry for going MIA, everyone. I just got back from my vacation. Here’s part 4 for you all. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you guys think!🫶🏻
PART 3
As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t stop crying. Her heart hurt so much. She just knew that her relationship with Pedri had ended and she would never forgive him for what he did.
Pedri stood there, his mind filled with regret. His thoughts raced as he reflected on Y/N's words. He couldn't shake the truth in what she said. Y/n was right. She was the one who had always been there for him. Through ups and downs. When he was sick, she stayed up all night taking care of him, making sure he was comfortable and getting better. She was there when he was injured, giving him the support he needed and always trying her best to help him recover faster. She was the only one who can put up with all of his nonsense and she never once complained.
“What have I done….? I have to fix this.” Pedri started to realize that he’s going to lose her forever because of what he did.
Pedri ran after Y/N and held her hand and said “Amor please wait, don’t go…”
Y/N was furious because Pedri called her "amor," and she responded, "You don't get to call me that after what you did. Don't you ever call me that. I'm not your 'amor.' Now let go of my hand!! I don’t want anything to do with you anymore! Go away you cheater!”
Pedri: Y/N, please, you don’t mean that right? just listen to me for a moment.
Y/N: Oh yes, I mean every word I say. What’s there left to say, Pedri? You hurt me! You fucked up!
Pedri: I know I fucked up, and I can’t even begin to apologize enough for how I treated you. It was unfair, and I should have trusted you. But.. please amor you have to understand…I…
Y/N: What? You trusted Isabela over me, Pedri! She manipulated the situation, and you fell for it, then you slept with her! NOW LET GO OF ME!!
Pedri: I was a fool, Y/N. I let my anger cloud my judgment, and I see that now. You mean everything to me, and I don’t want to lose you, please.. Sleeping with her was a mistake. I don’t know what got over me… Please, it didn’t mean anything to me. Please trust me..
Y/N: Huh? Trust you? You think I should trust you, Pedri? After what you did? You have got to be fucking kidding me right? You didn’t even trust me when I told you I didn’t do all those things yesterday! Now you’re asking me to trust you?FUCK YOU PEDRI! HOW CAN I TRUST YOU?! A MISTAKE MEANS YOU FORGETTING MY BIRTHDAY NOW THAT’S WHAT WE CALL A FUCKING MISTAKE. CHEATING AND SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE IS NOT A MISTAKE! IT’S A CHOICE!! YOU MADE THIS CHOICE!
Pedri: Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make this right. I didn’t cheat on you…I thought we were broken up already…
Y/N : So our relationship is going through a rough patch, and you immediately break up with me? And then you go and sleep with someone else? What makes you think that's okay? Huh. You’re unbelievable. Goodbye Pedri.
Y/N managed to slip away from Pedri's grip and walked toward the house's gate. Just as she was about to hop into the cab, Fer, who had just come back from the restaurant, noticed her teary-eyed face. He rushed out of his car and asked with concern, "Hey hey, Y/N, ¿Qué pasa? Why are you crying? Are you okay?"
Y/N, still upset, replied, "Hey, Fer, sorry... I'm not okay. Ask your brother." She then said goodbye to Fer and entered the cab, ready to leave.
Fer barged into the house, he was extremely upset. He confronted Pedri, "What the hell hermano? What did you do to Y/N? Why does she look like a wreck???"
Pedri stayed silent. But when Fer spotted Isabela coming down the stairs, wearing Pedri's shirt and collecting her things, he pieced it together. "No way….bro…you slept with Isabela, didn't you?"
Fer looked disappointed and said, "You messed up big time, bro. Y/N doesn't deserve this. I'm really disappointed in you."
Surprisingly, Pedri didn't try to catch Y/N. He didn't fight for her. He let her go because it seemed easier for him than trying to convince Y/N to forgive him. Deep down in Y/N's heart, she was hoping Pedri would go after her and fight for her, despite what he did.
There was a part of her that wanted him to fight for this relationship, to prove to her that she was worth fighting for. Sadly, he just let her go, and with that, she knew she was replaceable.. It shattered her heart to see how easily he let their relationship end.
She told herself that she wouldn't forgive him and decided to cut him off along with everyone around him. She truly wanted nothing to do with Pedri. It felt easier that way, deleting him from her life and acting like she never knew him. So, she went on every social media platform and blocked him, Fer, and everyone associated with Pedri. She went MIA for weeks, distancing herself from it all.
Pedri returned to Barcelona and entered his house, only to realize that all of Y/N's things were gone. It was as if she had never existed in his life. Y/N must have taken all her belongings and moved out of the house. On the coffee table, he saw the spare key that he had given her, which used to be adorned with a custom-made keychain from their vacation in Paris. But even the keychain was missing now. Pedri was heartbroken as he realized that Y/N had left him forever, and he knew there was nothing he could do to change it.
Still, Pedri attempted to call Y/N, but all he heard was a message saying that the number was no longer in service. He also tried searching for her on Instagram and Twitter, but it seemed that she had blocked him on all social media platforms. It was clear that Y/N had made a clean break from him and had no intention of keeping any contact.
————————————————————
As the weeks went by, Barcelona's team was dominating La Liga, and Pedri was in top form, contributing significantly and scoring goals. His performance seemed to reflect a happier and healthier version of himself.
Y/N caught glimpses of this on the news before quickly changing the channel. Her roommate asked, "Don't you miss him?" Y/N replied, "Why would I miss someone who treated me like shit? It's not worth it."
Her roommate said, "I'm sorry… but you know…he's Pedri…He's got so many fans, especially girls. I can't imagine how you're managing to move on from someone like him."
Y/N replied, "Well, it's easy when that “someone” cheated on you. Your perception of them completely changes. Besides, I have to move on. It’s the right thing to do when someone doesn’t treat you well, no matter who they are.”
Her roommate said, "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry for asking you that. Anyway….do you wanna go to Ibiza next week? We can party and enjoy the whole week. It's time for you to get out there and enjoy being single instead of moping around here and crying every single night. Yeah, don't think I don't know that? I heard you crying, babe. Come on, let's go with me!"
Y/N hesitated, "Well….I'm not sure. I've got a lot of work to catch up on, and I've barely unpacked my stuff. Plus, I'm not really in the mood for a party right now…”
Y/N had just relocated to Sevilla. She didn't want to stay in the same city as Pedri, so she made the choice to leave her apartment in Barcelona. She requested a job transfer to Sevilla and was fortunate that her transfer request got approved. Without delay, she moved to Sevilla. That's when she met her roommate, who happened to be her high school best friend. They talked, and her friend offered her a place to stay since she was working in Sevilla too. Y/N was really thankful because everything worked out well, and at least she had someone she knew in the city, so she wouldn't be alone.
Her roommate still trying to persuade her, "Come on, just ask for a few days off from work, I'm sure they'll be fine, right? Just use your annual leave, please, please."
Y/N replied, "Well….I do have a lot of annual leave I haven't used, but I don't know. I'll think about it, okay? I'll let you know."
————��———————————————
It was Pedri's day off, he chose to stay home and play video games with his brother and his friend, Gavi and Fer. After a few games, Gavi accidentally asked, "Hey, where's Y/N? I miss her making us churros or caramel flan. She used to cook for us when we played, right?" Fer nudged Gavi and said, "Come on, man, they're not together anymore! What's wrong with you?"
Gavi then exclaimed, "Oh, mierda! My bad, sorry, bro. I keep forgetting that you guys broke up." Pedri was upset, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he went upstairs to his room and sit on his bed. The truth is, he still misses her. He hadn't gone out partying or enjoyed himself since the break-up. All he did was go to the gym, train, and play his matches. It was all over the news how well Pedri was performing now, getting better and better. But he still felt empty without Y/N by his side. It was like he was missing a part of his life, and it hurts so bad.
He would occasionally scroll through his phone, looking at old pictures of him and Y/N together. He missed their late-night conversations, her laughter, and the way she used to surprise him with little acts of kindness. He remembered the times when they cooked together, made each other laugh, and shared their dreams. It was all gone now, and he couldn't help but regret how he had let things spiral out of control.
Pedri tried to distract himself with his football career, and he was excelling. But even on the field, there were moments when he wished Y/N was in the stands, cheering him on. He knew he had messed up a good thing, and the pain of that realization never left him.
Ferran arrived at Pedri’s house and found Gavi and Fer sitting on the couch. He asked, “Guys? where’s Pedri?”
Fer responded, “This cabron made him moody. He mentioned Y/N’s name. You know him, once he hears her name, he’s immediately not in the mood anymore. I don’t know why he’s acting like that. He’s the one who messed up.”
Ferran nodded. He said, “Hmmm…. I think we should do something. Maybe let’s bring him to a club? Let him enjoy a bit? It’s been a while since he’s been to a club.”
Gavi chimed in, “Well, I’m down, but I don’t know if Pedri is. You should go convince him.”
Ferran agreed, and he knew he needed to help Pedri take his mind off things, even if just for one night.
Ferran decided to go talk to Pedri. He found him in his room, looking at some old photos on his phone. Fer said, "Hey, hermano, I know things have been tough since the breakup, but maybe it's time to get out and have some fun. What do you say we hit a club tonight? Just like old times."
Pedri looked up, a bit surprised by Ferran’s suggestion. He hesitated for a moment but then nodded, "You know what, Fer, maybe you're right. A night out might do me some good. Let's do it."
Fer smiled, relieved to see Pedri willing to give it a try. “Cool, let’s go!”.
———————————————————
Y/N was scrolling through her Twitter feed when she suddenly came across some tweets about the Barca boys having a great time at a club. She decided to ignore the tweets and kept scrolling. However, one picture of Pedri caught her eye. The tweet said that Pedri was seen having a blast in a club, surrounded by some Instafamous girls. He had his arms around them and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
Once again, Y/N couldn't hold back her tears, but she quickly wiped them away. She decided to put her phone down and switch to her iPad to watch a movie instead, trying to distract herself from the painful picture she saw just now.
Then, Y/N's roommate came home and asked what she was watching. Y/N replied, "Oh, just some old rom-com movie, '10 Things I Hate About You.' I love this movie. Wanna join?" Her roommate agreed, saying, "Yeaaah, sureee I'll join you."
Then, Y/N hesitated for a moment and said, "Hey, about the Ibiza trip...on second thought, I think I wanna go." Her roommate was thrilled and exclaimed, "Yay! Perfect! We'll go next week."
———————————————————-
It was the La Liga final, Barcelona was set to face their rival, Real Madrid. It was quite a big match, so Pedri's family had flown in from Tenerife to support him. Pedri felt grateful because his family is so supportive of him.
Before the game, his mom and dad wished him good luck, and they shared a hug. Then, Pedri stepped onto the field. When the whistle blew, the game began.
In the 44th minute, Joao Felix scored, and the team celebrated their early lead. The match became intense in the second half when Jude Bellingham equalized with a goal, making it 1-1.
However, in the 87th minute, Joao Cancelo scored a crucial goal, securing Barcelona's victory as the "Campeon de la Liga." The stadium erupted in cheers as they celebrated their hard-fought triumph.
After winning the championship, all the Barcelona players went near the stands to thank their fans for their support and celebrate the victory with them. Pedri walked over to the stands, scanning the stadium in hopes of seeing Y/N at his big game. Unfortunately, he didn't spot her in the crowd.
But the celebrations continued as family and friends were allowed onto the pitch to celebrate with the players. They took pictures and videos together, capturing this special moment of victory.
Pedri took pictures with his teammates and then with his family. As he was celebrating, a woman poked his shoulder, and he turned around to see that it was Isabela. Pedri greeted her, saying, "Oh hey, Isabela! I didn't think I would see you here. You came all the way from Tenerife?"
Isabela replied “Hey, Pedri! I couldn't miss this important game of yours. It's a big moment for you, and I wanted to be here to support you! Anyway…congratulations on winning La Liga! You and the team played amazingly.
Pedri then replied “Thanks, Isabela. It's been a great season.”
They share a warm hug and continue chatting about the game and celebrations.
Y/n and her roommate were at the airport when the match was on. Y/n has always been a culér, watched the game at the airport while waiting for her flight. When Barcelona won, she couldn't help but feel happy, though she refrained from congratulating Pedri because she didn't want him to think she was still thinking about him. Instead, she let out a sigh, put her phone back in her pocket, and prepared to board her flight as her roommate urged her to go.
———————————————————
Back at Pedri’s home, his mother wanted to celebrate his big win and invited some of Pedri’s friends over, including Isabela. It was a great party, and everyone congratulated him, calling him "campeón." Pedri was having a good time until he tried to go upstairs to his room.
He overheard Isabela on her phone with her friends, saying, "Yeah, I'm at Pedro's home in Barcelona. She's not here anymore. There are no pictures of her in his room. They've broken up already. It's so easy to get rid of her. I just created a little conflict, and boom, he broke up with her. He didn't even trust her, can you believe it?" She then laughed.
Pedri was shocked when he heard what Isabela had said. At that moment, he knew he had messed up. Big time. He didn't trust Y/N, let alone saying hurtful things to her and even sleeping with Isabela, the one who had created all this conflict.
He was so mad that he confronted Isabela and said, "What the hell?! So it was you?!!! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO PUT PEANUT BUTTER IN FER'S DRINKS? YOU SAID Y/N SLAPPED YOU, BUT SHE DIDN'T TOUCH YOU AT ALL, RIGHT?!"
Isabela stammered in her response, saying, "Uh….Pedro, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Fer, but you have to understand, I'm doing this because I love you. We've known each other forever, and you're supposed to be with me, not her. Please, I'm sorry…”
Pedri then said, "You're not my friend anymore. You don't get to choose who I can or cannot be with. You wrecked my relationship, and you made me let go of the person I love the most. What kind of person are you? What kind of friend would even do that? From now on, you don't know me, and I don't know you. Now, get out of my house and never show your face here again!"
Pedri went downstairs to find Fer and asked for his phone. Fer was confused and said, "Yo, hermano, what's wrong? Chill." Pedri replied urgently, "I need to find Y/N. I have to get her back. It wasn't her, Fer. She didn't do all those things. It was Isabela. I caught her, and she just admitted it to me just now. I messed up, bro. I need to find her back. I've hurt her so bad. Give me your phone, let me try to call her or DM her. Maybe she will reply if it's from your account."
Fer handed over his phone, and said, "Brooo, I told you Y/N didn't do all that stuff, but you were such a dick to her at the time."
With Fer's phone in hand, Pedri tried to find Y/N's account and called her using Fer's number. Sadly, there was no answer, and he couldn't find her online. It was clearly she had cut ties with everyone in his group because of how much he hurt her. It was that much that she didn’t want anything to do with anyone around him.
Pedri wanted to bail on his party, but Fer said he shouldn’t do that. It would be rude of him to just leave like that when everyone was there for him. Fer told him to find Y/N tomorrow, so he stayed until the party ended.
————————————————————-
The next day, Pedri went to Y/N's apartment only to find out someone else was living there. He asked for Y/N, and the new tenant said there was no girl by that name living there. Pedri then asked Y/N's old neighbor, and she said Y/N had moved out four weeks ago after coming back from vacation with him in Tenerife. She mentioned that Y/N looked miserable and asked what had happened between them.
Pedri: “Do you know where I can find Y/N or if she mentioned where she's gone?”
Neighbor: “I'm sorry, but I don't know. Y/N wasn't really talking to anyone when she left. She looked very sad, with puffy eyes, so I didn't think it was the right time to ask her about her plans.”
Pedri: “So, she really didn't say anything to anyone before leaving?”
Neighbor: “No, I'm afraid not. She seemed like she needed some space, and I didn't want to pry.”
Pedri: “I messed up big time, and I need to find her. She means everything to me.”
Neighbor: “I hope you can work things out. Maybe you could try reaching out to her friends or family? They might know where she went.”
Pedri: “Yeah, that's a good idea. Thanks for your help.”
Pedri was feeling desperate to find a way to reach out to Y/N. He knew that her few close friends had also blocked him, making it even harder to locate her. At this point, he felt like he had hit a dead end in his efforts to make amends and apologize for his mistakes. He wished he could turn back time and change the way he had handled things with Y/N.
Then, he had the courage to call Y/N's mom. He greeted her warmly and inquired about how she was doing. Y/N's mom, who had always liked Pedri, reciprocated the greetings and asked how he was holding up. Then, Pedri couldn't help but ask about Y/N.
Pedri: “Hi, it's been a while. How have you been?”
Y/N's Mom: “Oh, I've been alright, dear. How about you?”
Pedri: “Hanging in there. I, uh, was wondering about Y/N. Do you know where she is right now?”
Y/N's Mom: “Well, Pedri, I know you care about her, but Y/N has made it clear that she doesn't want anyone to know her whereabouts, especially you. She’s been through a tough time.”
Pedri: “I understand. I just want to apologize and make things right. But if she doesn't want me to know, I'll respect her wishes.”
Y/N's Mom: “That's thoughtful of you, Pedri. Just give her some time. Maybe someday, she'll be ready to talk.”
Pedri: “Yeah, maybe. Thanks for understanding, and please tell her I'm truly sorry.”
Y/N's Mom: I will, Pedri. Take care of yourself too.
Y/N's mom had always liked Pedri because she thought he was a good guy. She didn't know the details of what Pedri had done to Y/N, as Y/N didn't want her parents to hate him. So, Y/N simply told her parents that they had broken up. Just that.
——————————————————————
Meanwhile in Ibiza, Y/N had a wonderful time with her roommate. They spent their days at the beach, soaking up the sun, and listening to the calming ocean waves. Y/N really enjoyed these peaceful moments, reading a few books, and temporarily escaping from the stress and heartache she had experienced recently.
On the third day of their trip, Y/N's roommate suggested going to a local club for some nighttime fun. Y/N was excited about the idea and agreed. She began to prepare for the evening by choosing an outfit and applying some makeup. Everything seemed to be falling into place for a great night out.
However, just as Y/N was about to finish getting ready, she suddenly felt unwell. Her stomach started to churn uncomfortably, and a strong headache throbbed in her temples. It was as if her body was objecting to the idea of going out for a night of partying.
Y/N turned to her roommate and said, "I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can go out tonight. I suddenly feel unwell, and I think it might be because of the food I had earlier."
Her roommate, understanding and concerned, replied, "Oh no, that's not good. Don't worry about it, your health comes first. Just take some rest and drink some water. We can always go out another night."
Y/N however insisted, "You should go, seriously. You’re all dressed up and ready to go. You look amazing, and I don't want you to miss out because of me. I'll be fine here at the hotel."
Her roommate hesitated, asking once more, "Are you absolutely sure?"
Y/N nodded with confidence, "Yes, of course! I can handle myself. Go and enjoy!"
Her roommate smiled, leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Alright, babe, take care. I'll see you later!"
Y/N's roommate left for the club, leaving Y/N alone in their hotel room. She immediately rushed to the bathroom and couldn't help but throw up, her condition worsening with each passing moment. After drinking some water, she lay down on her bed, feeling utterly drained.
As she lay there, something hit her.
She haven’t got her period this month. Her period was overdue by a week, and she hadn't experienced any signs of it arriving. Panic welled up inside her, and she whispered to herself, "Oh no...no no no no, fuck no….”
Y/N vividly remembered that her last time being with Pedri was a day before they went to Tenerife, precisely a month ago. Y/N felt more and more worried, thinking about the chance of being pregnant.
PART 5 !?????
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auspicioustidings · 11 months
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Hey hope your doing well! Could I request Price with a really shy civilian reader?
Ohhh so I am going to cheat a little here and actually expand a little small AU I did before for this, I hope you don't mind soulmate AUs! (If you do you shall need to get your butt back into the ole inbox and I shall do something else) <3
You did not want to die. You especially did not want to die because of a bloody maniac seeing fit to blow up the building that you worked in. 
You could barely breathe with all the smoke and debris in the air, but at least the floor hadn't collapsed yet. Couldn't be long though, you could hear the building letting out great sighs as if struggling to stay upright. If it came down, you were toast. You took a breath and rubbed a hand to the raised words on your collarbone to steady yourself. Old habit. Your words had been there since you were born, the handwriting so bad that everyone assumed you must have a doctor for a soulmate. 
You broken love?
The only saving grace of this was that the office had actually been closed due to the aircon being busted. Of course, you had to have left your bloody laptop charger and had to have chosen to go get it when there was a terrorist attack, of course. Not much for it but to start crawling in what you were sure was the direction of the door to the stairwell.
It was a struggle, you were pretty sure in the initial blast your whole left side had been thoroughly fucked up so you had to pull yourself along on your right side, but you made it to the stairwell.
You took a breather and leaned heavily against the wall, trying to steel yourself for continuing on down the stairs. Wait, there were people coming up the way. That was very much the wrong way to be going. 
One of them bit out a curse and leaned over you. All you could think about in your state was how kind his eyes looked.
"Wasn't told there was anyone else left in the building Captain" one of the men said to the one leaning over you.
"You broken love?"
Oh. Oh.
"I'd probably be ok calling you Captain in bed."
The other men were howling with laughter, but you were mostly out of it now with pain and the rush of endorphins that came from those words on your collarbone finally settling fully into your skin.
"We can discuss that later sweetheart, let's get you out of here."
-
God you were a pretty thing weren't you? Had passed out the moment he had lifted you in his arms, like you had known that moment you were safe. You'd always be safe with him, after all he had fought his way to become a Captain to find you, the words wrapped around his left forearm always pushing him forward.
His boys were happy for him he knew, Ghost already taking over the rest of the op to allow him to be here for you when you woke up. They had already killed or captured most of the terrorist ring, the building sweep was just clean up.
The paramedics said you weren't in any immediate danger, pretty bashed up though. Suspected break on your left arm, suspected fracture on the leg, some light burning on your face and neck. Price went with you in the ambulance to the hospital, holding your hand as you dipped in and out of consciousness and babbled away nonsense at him. Even when you had gotten the x-rays you were loopy as hell, the doctors said it was stress, exhaustion and pain, prescribing a heavy dose of painkillers and a good night's sleep.
When you eventually woke up properly, you were warm and cosy in a bed. You felt awful. You looked down to find your arm in a cast and your leg in a splint. You were also... Well, clean. And wearing clothes that were definitely not yours.
"Morning love."
You squeaked and dragged the blankets right up to the bridge of your nose, peeking over to see an incredibly handsome man standing by the door of what was not your bedroom. Wait did you know him? It felt like you did. What on earth had happened?
He laughed and it was the most gorgeous sound you had ever heard which made the tips of your ears burn and your heart race.
"You broken love?"
Wait those were your... only when you shifted to touch your words they were already settled into your skin. He had said them to you before. That's why you knew him. He said them when he had found you in your building, when you thought you had been dying. And you had said...
You would quite have liked for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, but you settled for pulling the blankets all the way over your head and hiding in the hopes he would never look at you again. You could not believe your first words to your soulmate had been about calling him Captain in bed. You were mortified. You would never in a million years have said something like that if you hadn't been delirious from the shock.
You heard his footsteps and the crinkling of his clothes as he crouched next to the bed, the feeling of a warm hand landing on your head over the blanket.
"Don't tell me you're embarassed now love, I've not even told you about what you were saying when I was trying to give you a bath" he laughed.
Jail, jail for this man. You would fix this by simply never emerging from this cocoon again. This was your home now. Even if he was petting at your head and you knew it would feel so much better without the duvet between your hair and his hand. Oh God the thought made you snake your good hand out of the safety of the blankets to snatch a pillow back inside and scream into it.
John Price thought you were adorable. He knew you were shy, you had babbled to him about it last night while he was gently trying to keep your cast out of the water in the bath. It had been you that stripped off and him trying desperately to slow you down, knowing you were off your head on pain meds. But you wanted a bath and he couldn't let you do that on your own in the state you had been in.
You'd told him all about yourself in broken jumbles of words. Your name (he had immediately tested in on his tongue and found it fit there), your favourite colour (he'd paint the walls on Monday), how it was so nice to be able to talk to him because usually you would be way too shy and he was so handsome and kissable (he was more than willing to prove you absolutely correct about him being kissable when you were sober minded).
You hadn't been kidding about being shy. He liked that more than he thought he would, that his soulmate was this sweet, soft thing who was so flustered over so small a flirtation. Oh he couldn't wait to see all the ways he could made colour deepen your skin, find all the words that would have you squeaking and trying to hide away.
"Sorry for teasing, couldn't help myself. Will you come out please? Let me see that pretty soulmate of mine?" he said with the gentle affection of a man finally content in life.
He coaxed you out like one might do a nervous kitten, no sudden movements, light sounds of encouragement. And when you finally looked at him your hand moved to your collarbone out of habit to trace your words, although you winced in pain when you bumped the cast.
"Try not to move it too much love, we can do some exercises to keep your mobility up after breakfast."
You nodded, still looking up at him with those big nervous eyes. He smiled at you and pushed up his sleeve, laying his forearm on the bed and letting you see the words there.
"They're yours, you know. I'm yours" he said, like the concept came as easy to him as breathing.
And as you gingerly reached out with your good hand to trace the words, you couldn't help but whisper the word mine before taking his hand and pressing it to your collarbone.
"Yours."
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