#he was so easy to talk to and then something changed I don't know what.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Together

Jay Halstead x Reader

You push people away. It's how you cope. Only a chosen few has managed to stick around. Jay is going to prove he's not going anywhere.

You were pulling away. You could feel it and knew Jay could too. The problem? You didn’t know how to not pull away. That little voice in your head that was so damn sure and strong when it came to work was so damn quiet and uncertain when it came to yourself. You loved Jay. You knew that with every fiber of your being but that damn little voice kept whispering “He can do better than you and he's going to figure it out”

As much as you didn't want to lose him as your lover, the thought of losing him as your friend hurt worse. He'd always been there as a cornerstone when you needed him.

When Voight suggested changing partners around you'd seen the fact that Jay wanted to argue written plainly in his eyes but you spoke up and said “I agree Sarge. It's good to switch it up every now and then”

You were partnered with Adam, Kim with Jay and Hailey with Kevin. It was a big change from the usual team but all of you worked well enough together, had for years.

While you were all gearing up to roll out you saw Jay move towards you so you turned towards Hailey “Upton, check that rear strap for me?” She smiled “Of course” and readjusted it slightly then asked you to check hers too. At least by her asking you it didn't just look like you were avoiding Jay, even if he looked like a kicked puppy when you met his eyes.

“Everyone knows what you should be doing. Come home in one piece” Voight said looking around at all of you. You each nodded in turn. You grabbed your long gun then winked at Kim “Don't worry babe. I got your fella’s back” she grinned “I know you do. I got Jay's”

You smiled slightly and Kevin cleared his throat “and Hailey’s got mine if yall care” your smile turned into a full grin as you cut your eyes at him “You know I care Atwater. Anything happen to you I'm fighting the ferrymen to bring you back myself” he grinned “My girl” and bumped his shoulder against yours.

Voight shook his head but you saw a small grin “Do your damn jobs” with that he dismissed you so you rolled out. It was a quick snatch and grab. You wouldn't say nothing should go wrong because you knew your job, anything could go wrong but it should be fairly easy.

The snatch and grab went down just as planned thankfully. Six arrests were successfully made.

You were walking out of the precinct when you heard Jay call your name so you stopped and turned to see him walking towards you with one of those smiles that always made your heart flip “Hey baby. You want to go get a drink or some food or something?”

You shrugged “I'm kinda tired honestly. I was going to just go home and crash” he nodded “I can bring takeout?” He looked so damn hopeful but that voice in your head wouldn't shut up for two fucking seconds screaming about how bad it's gonna hurt if you let yourself love him as deeply as you wanted to just for him to walk away.

“It's fine honey. Um raincheck for tomorrow?” He nodded, his face falling slightly. “Ok, did I do something?” You shook your head “No, why?” he motioned back to the precinct “I've seen you stand toe to toe with Voight over trying to make you partner with anyone else and today you agreed. You haven't wanted to go out or let me come over in days. Baby is there someone else?”

Your eyes widened slightly “What?” He shrugged “I don't know here. I mean we were doing good, I thought. Is it because we had sex? Are you pulling away because of that?” You shook your head, trying not to let your eyes tear up “No Jay, of course not. Sex with you is fucking amazing”

He grinned slightly “Then why have you barely let me kiss you all week?” You shrugged and opened your mouth to say something then clamped it back “I don't want to talk here. Can you grab the takeout?” He nodded “I'll be over in a few ok?” “Ok” he took a step closer and when you didn't pull away he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You sat on your couch, waiting for Jay to knock. When he did you were up and on your feet without thinking. You opened the door to let him in and he walked in carrying the takeout bags “I got Chinese”

He walked into your kitchen as you closed and locked the front door and you heard him putting the take out trays across the counter and throwing the plastic bag into your recycling bin before he walked back into the living room, shedding his jacket and walking over to you.

He stopped just shy of you and raised one eyebrow, silently asking permission. You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms around his waist and he pulled you against his chest “There's my girl. I was wondering where she went”

You cut your eyes up at him “I'm sorry I pushed you away Jay. It's just I think I realized I was falling in love with you and I freaked out because I don't even know why you're with me and…” you were cut off by him kissing you like he was a drowning man and you were the last taste of air.

You moaned lightly against his lips and when he finally pulled away both of you were breathing a little harder “You love me?” He asked and you nodded “I do” he grinned “Good, because I love you but get it straight from here on there will be no pushing me away. You try to push me? I'll grab you and pin you to a wall. We're in this together” you chuckled lightly “You just used you pinning me to a wall as a threat. That is a fantasy Halstead”

He smirked “Oh yeah? Well baby I can make that reality right now. Just tell me you love me one more time” you smiled “I love you Jay” he groaned lightly and leaned down far enough to pick you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist “I've went the last week and a half barely touching you. I'm making up for it tonight”

[the-fyre-flie]

17 year old Bruce Wayne becoming a teen dad for 8 year old Dick Grayson and struggling, another mini fic, technically a part 2? PART 1

-

"Please stop crying, kid... please... I don't know what you want if you just cry..."

Bruce had assumed that taking care of an 8 year old would be fairly easy. After all, it was after the diaper and fussy toddler years, almost at double digits, and when he was 8, Bruce was already pretty independent. But Dick... Dick was constantly upset. Crying, hiding, not wanting to interact with anyone. It was impossible to get him to leave his room or eat or even just talk to someone.

Standing in the doorway of the room, Bruce felt this horrible guilt feeling pooling in his stomach as he watched the child just cry on the bed. He didn't want to step closer, fearing he might scare Dick, but he also didn't want to leave, feeling responsible for the kid. Leaving felt like he was giving up. Giving up on the boy and his grief, giving up on the hope of getting better. And if he gave up, who else would be there to keep Dick from giving up, too?

"Dick, I really want to help. You have to let someone help you..." Bruce got out, taking a tentative step into the room. It was late morning, and Dick had refused to eat for the past 3 days since... since the accident. "Can Alfred make you something to eat? Anything to make you feel better. Your favorite food?"

He kept trying to offer food, clothes, gifts, anything. He had all the money in the world, but he knew better than anyone else that money doesn't fix grief. Standing at the foot of the bed, Bruce took in the sight of Dick crying into his palms, the boys face red and puffy, rubbed raw around his eyes and nose. When Dick moved to use the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away fresh tear, Bruce reached out and grabbed Dicks wrist, brow furrowing. Instinct told him to stop Dick from doing that again, that the kid was in pain from how raw his skin was. Shifting to kneel against the mattress, Bruce gently pulled a hankerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Dicks tears. It was almost fatherly... Bruce had memories of Alfred doing the same to him when he lost his parents.

"You're hurting yourself."

His voice was quiet, and Dick had stopped sobbing enough to stare at Bruce in disbelief. The quiet hiccups and sniffles echoed in the mostly empty bedroom, the lack of decorations making it feel almost sterile. They would have to decorate it, Bruce decided, make it look like an actual kids room.

"I know how this feels. You aren't alone, Richard. Please, let me help you."

It was a plea, a hushed beg for the boy to let Bruce do what he felt he had to. Alfred had stepped up to be Bruce's father, and Bruce wanted so badly to step up and be Dicks. To pay it forward. To protect someone who needed it.

It took about an hour to get Dick to leave his room, but eventually he was sat with Bruce at the dining room table, slowly eating the eggs and bacon Alfred had made. He had stopped crying for the most part, and let Bruce brush his hair and find him a change of clothes. And yet, Bruce didn't relax. He wasn't sure if he was doing any of this correctly. He wanted to he a good parental figure for Dick, but he also didn't want to overstep. What if the kid didn't want a replacement family? What if Dick always rejected him? What if he was making things worse for him?

"Mr Wayne..."

Dicks scratchy voice pulled Bruce from his thoughts, the man looking up like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

"When am I going into foster care?"

Oh. That was the problem. Dick thought his placement here was only temporary. He thought Bruce would eventually get rid of him, and he had been worrying himself to tears thinking he would just get thrown to the foster system. That's why he had been in such a state for the past few days. That's why he had been so avoidant with Bruce. He was preparing himself for the feeling of being abandoned again.

"N-never. You don't have to go into foster care. The... the manor has a place for you always." Bruce spoke, trying to hide his sadness. Did Dick really think Bruce would just get rid of him after what happened?

"Are you certain?"

He sounded so weak. So defeated. He had just lost his mother and father, and he expected the world to tear away everything else too.

"I'm certain, Richard."

"Thank you, Mr Wayne."

[hyperbolicreverie]

for the “I wish you’d write a fic where…” ask

Law Doesn't Leave the Donquixote Family AU

This one really gave me a run for my money, because it's not an AU I'd usually write. I hope it satisfies!

Law walks briskly down the hallway towards the executive suites. The shipment of black-market supplies had come earlier than expected, and Doflamingo would want to know they'd arrived, as several key items the Family had needed for the upcoming Dressrosa operation were included. It probably wouldn't change their timetable, but keeping information from Doflamingo was never a good choice, so Law had volunteered to inform the captain of their arrival.

He's almost to the big double doors when he hears conversation from inside. Well, that explains why none of the executives were around to collect the shipment. They were here, instead.

"...there even a point anymore?" Diamante's voice was asking. "The brat's almost sixteen, and he's smart. Why not have him do what needs to be done now and be done with it?"

"Patience," Doflamingo's voice rumbles back, a familiar low chuckle sitting in the back of his words. "The best pawns don't know that they are one, and as you say, the boy is clever. I want to be absolutely sure he's mentally right where I want him first." There's a clink of glass; it sounds like they're drinking. The senior officers often did at this time of the evening. "Besides, we make our move on Dressrosa next month. Better to make sure that goes off without a hitch and consolidate power beforehand. Splitting focus never works well."

Law's brow furrows. Were they talking about him? Diamante calling him a brat was nothing new; neither he nor Trebol had ever particularly liked him, and Corazon had disappeared over two years ago now, but with all the violence the mute had exhibited Law didn't think he'd fare any better if the captain's brother was still around.

All he knew is that bringing up Corazon in any capacity these days was a one-way trip to one of Doflamingo's bad moods, so the man's memory simply haunted the Family like a silent ghost, unaddressed and unmourned.

"Not afraid he's going to figure it out?" Law hears Trebol chuckle wetly. "His devil fruit is rather infamous, after all. The information is out there."

"Fortunately, few books speak of the procedure, and even less treat it as something more than a faerie tale," Doflamingo says. "It was easy enough to make sure we never happened to have one of the ones which does anywhere near where Law could pick it up."

Law frowns. Doflamingo had been keeping something from him? Something regarding his devil fruit? That made no sense. Doflamingo had been adamant he learn as much about his devil fruit as possible ever since he stole it out from under the Marines. He always talked about how proud Law made him, mastering such a tricky power so quickly and at such a young age.

What was going on?

"He really is quite the impressive specimen," Doflamingo muses. "And I couldn't be prouder of how he's turned out. Not just anyone could handle the power of a devil fruit that grants immortality at such a young age."

Law's mouth drops open, and he hurriedly covers it with his hand to keep from letting out a gasp of shock. He could do what? He knew his devil fruit was sometimes called 'the ultimate devil fruit,' but that was an ability that beggared belief!

"It's a pity that the immortality operation kills the user."

Surprised adrenaline is immediately replaces with horror, and Law feels his blood run cold.

His life? The thing he'd fought tooth and nail to keep, despite all the things that had tried to take it away from him? The thing that Doflamingo himself had helped preserve? It made no sense.

Or had he saved him solely so he could be a tool? Had that been the whole point?

Had Doflamingo lied about his true intentions just as much as the Marines who'd turned guns on the citizens of Flevance had, when they'd promised salvation?

Hand still pressed tight over his mouth to keep from making sounds, he moves as silently as possible back down the corridor towards his room. He needs to think about this. About the implications. About what it means for him and Doflamingo and everyone else who'd apparently known about this thing he could do.

And then he needed to make a plan.

[rogue-storm]

Do you ever get the vibe that a friend likes you? I'm not totally certain that's what's happening, but it's eerily familiar to TWO other circumstances where that's happened. And um. Instead of feeling happy you just want to cry? What is this feeling?

[found--family]

they couldn't let cesar and jesse return bc they would've taken one look at dean and cas interacting and known they had it bad for each other

[torgawl]

"love should be warm... but to you, it's become a form of punishment"

[burger-goblin]

.

[hanasnx]

x gon' give it to ya.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: @fuckmyskywalker introduced me to the concept of talking to a pussy i think via an anakin smut post and it changed my life so i'd like to dedicate credit to the idea. WARNINGS: fem reader | sex in the suit | deadpool calls himself daddy ironically and talks to your pussy.

A deep groan reverberates from low in DEADPOOL's throat. "Baby, I can't believe how good you look right now, seriously never looked better." he praises, commending the space between your legs as she's stuffed full of every inch of his dick. Another inexplicable thing about his mutation—he grew.

"'Talking to my pussy again, Wade?" you scoff, amused and breathless as you rock back on him, tossing a glance at him over your shoulder. Your spine is in a deep arch over the bed, and the nine inch heels you're wearing are the only reason you're able to compete with his height bent over like this.

"She needs to know what a good job she's doing otherwise she'll get discouraged. Poor thing needs a lot of love." he refutes your judgement, however playful, lovingly stroking the flesh of your ass with his glove. "Give us some privacy, please. Jesus." he tsks, shaking his head at you while you bury your face in the mattress. If his dick wasn't yanking your brains out along with it, you might have more to say. He turns his attention back where your bodies conjoin. "Thank God I put zipper on this thing. Who knew a onesie would be such a hassle to take a piss in?" The sounds of the room are filled with him running his mouth and your cunt's wet responses when he pulls out and shoves back in. "Now look at us." A particularly moistured sound squirts out, and he laughs knowingly, like your hole's said something entertaining at a tea party. "Zipper makes it too easy, you know? We've gotta stop meeting like this, maybe next time we can just sit and talk—"

"Wade!" you giggle, banging your fist onto the mattress. "Just fuck me, already!"

"Don't worry about her, she's just jealous." he tells your cunt, "You and I have something special, don't we? 'Specially when Daddypool says to christen the suit." A wave of wetness wells up from his comment, and he gasps in pleasant surprise. "Oh, you like that, you dirty thing. Next time I crotch-shot a bad guy he'll smell you all over, is that what you want, you freak? C'mere, I'll give you something real to leak about." Big rough hands grip on your hips, slamming into you so hard your ass ripples from the effect, and your happy pussy gargles around the dick it chokes on.

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about three years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

next.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 

Nothing. 

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 

"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 

"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

𖤓

It was something minuscule. 

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him. 

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 

It's worse than anything you could think of. 

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 

This wasn't bullying. 

This was abuse. 

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired. 

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 

"Why?" 

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 

"Get lost." 

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 

"Anything, right?" 

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 

"Get on your knees." 

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 

"I-I-Gojo you-" 

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 

"Gojo I-" 

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 

You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 

"Satoru." 

His eyes flash in satisfaction. 

"Open up, pretty girl." 

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 

 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 

"My laptop...it's broken." 

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 

The sunset is pretty today. 

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 

"Thank-" 

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 

"I love you." 

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 

Fuck three weeks. 

You needed to get out, now. 

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 

The door shuts with a click. 

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 

You take one back. He puts his hands up. 

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 

 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 

You go to move. 

Satoru's faster. 

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-" 

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 

"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 

"I love you." 

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect

7.1k words

18+ only

Warnings: brief alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos, oral sex [female receiving]

Summary: A Ravenclaw prefect catches Fred's eye, but she's not as easy to seduce as he had thought (slow burn, jealous ex, jealous Fred)

----

You stepped into the courtyard with your friends, taking in the autumn air. The leaves were finally turning the burning red color that you loved so much. It reminded you of someone.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Cho asked, nudging your arm. You had drifted off into your own thoughts while admiring the scenery.

"Of course, of course. You were talking about your Herbology exam," you replied, linking arms with Cho. She frequently complained about your "dreamy" tendencies, scolding you for having a wandering imagination. 

Your group continued through the courtyard, almost making it across to the next set of doors until a roar of laughter rippled through the students dotted around the courtyard. You turned to the commotion, finding the Weasley twins huddled around something on the ground.

As a prefect, it was your job to investigate things like this. And knowing the Weasley twins, it was best to interrupt whatever prank they had going on. 

The boys heard the clacking of your Oxford shoes on the stone path, turning to you as you approached. Both wore their usual grins, full of mischief and pleasure in whatever they had just done. You looked to the ground, finding a pale blond ferret on the stones by their feet.

"Now, what are you two up to?" you asked, crossing your arms in an attempt to appear intimidating.

This only caused Fred's grin to widen. "We just thought that Hogwarts could use a new pet."

"And who exactly is this pet?" you asked, bending down to pick up the ferret. It looked up at you, and you noticed that it had remarkably blue eyes.

"I think we should call him Mal-ferret. He makes a bloody cute critter, doesn't he?" George replied, tickling at the ferret in your hands.

You gasped, realizing who was in your hands. Draco Malfoy.

"You turned Malfoy into a ferret?! Are you bloody insane?" you asked, your voice raising in frustration and disbelief.

The boys only chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying their prank.

"Turn him back right this instant!" you demanded, placing Malfoy back onto the ground. "Don't make me get Snape, you gits!"

Fred grumbled, the smirk still playing at his lips. He loved when you got angry. And when you bossed him around.

George pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, turning the ferret back into a human. Slowly Malfoy's features returned as he grew back to his normal size. 

"I'm telling my father about this!" he fumed, staring up at Fred. The ginger towered over him, making Draco's threats rather ineffective.

Malfoy stormed off into the castle as the students in the courtyard laughed. The twins laughed along with them, still very pleased with themselves.

"When will you two learn..." you shook your head at them, taking out your notebook. "That's 20 points from Gryffindor."

Fred exhaled, reaching for your elbow as you recorded the point deduction in your notebook.

"Come on, little bird. You don't have to be that harsh," he said, his voice sounding like honey as he tried to convince you to change your mind.

You looked up at him, being sure to make direct eye contact. "Flirting with me won't change your fate, Weasley."

George chuckled behind him, and Fred's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He straightened his shoulders, preparing to respond.

Fred leaned in, his nose almost brushing your ear. "If I were trying to flirt with you, darling, it would be a bit more obvious," he said, his voice low.

His breath tickled your neck, causing goosebumps to form. Your words caught in your throat and you almost choked. Heat rose in your cheeks, and you balled your fists in an attempt to regain control.

"You don't have an effect on me, pretty boy," you replied, spitting out the last two words. Your eyes locked, and you glared at him. Your heart began to pound as you held eye contact. His perfect hazel eyes bore into yours, the corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. The look in his eyes was almost...lustful.

Your jaw locked as your stubbornness kicked in. He was not going to win this. 

Fred took a step back, his hand reaching for the end of your braid and twirling it. "I'll see you at the Quidditch match tomorrow, birdie."

His sickening smile remained on his lips as he turned to George, walking back toward the castle doors. You let out a breath and hustled over to your own group of friends.

It was too late for you. Fred had noticed the color in your cheeks. The way you were fighting for control. It was in that moment that he knew he had to have you.

Fred had always liked you. You had several classes together over the years, and you were kind to him and his brother. You tutored him in Potions during third year, and you weren't as stuck-up as your fellow Ravenclaws.

There was something so tempting about you. Your "good girl" persona mixed with your unshakable attitude. It was like a drug to Fred, and now that he knew that he could make you weak in the knees, he was going to exploit it.

By the time you made it across the courtyard to your friends, your entire face was bright red. "Let's go inside," you insisted, hurrying out the words as you pushed towards the doors.

You had barely made it inside before your friends were asking questions.

"What happened?" Cho asked, sounding genuinely confused. "The way Fred was looking at you was...intense."

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to calm yourself. You had always thought that Fred was cute, but his reputation as a player had kept you away. You'd talked to him before in passing, but never like this. It was an adrenaline rush to stand your ground against him. Holding power over him felt...addicting.

"The twins just...they were just being gits. And Fred is always...you know Fred. He's defiant," you replied, your sentences smashing together as you attempted to compose yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" Cho asked, running a hand down your arm.

"Yeah, just...didn't expect Fred to talk back to me. It's not usually that difficult to take House points away," you said, attempting to explain away why you were so flustered.

"But the way that he was looking at you..." Beatrice chimed in. "He looked....I don't know. I've never seen him like that."

"He's just being Fred," you said, trying to dismiss it. "Let's go to the library, I have mountains of homework."

Your group headed towards the library, finding your usual table and settling in. You tried to work on an essay for Muggle Studies, but you couldn't focus. Your thoughts kept wandering back to Fred and his hazel eyes burning into yours. The way his breath felt on your neck. His fingers twirling your hair.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. You knew that Fred was a flirt. He had quite the reputation with the girls at Hogwarts, and he did not have a hard time finding a date. He was probably just messing with you. It was nothing, and you scolded yourself for replaying the scene in your head over and over again.

----

Fred and George were lounging in the Common Room, finding anything to do instead of their homework. Fred was sketching in his sketchbook while George conjured and disintegrated flowers over and over again.

"What was your deal earlier today with that prefect?" George blurted out, breaking the silence in the room.

Fred turned to him. "What do you mean?" he asked, acting confused.

"You know exactly what I mean, you git. You were toying with her," George said, disintegrating another clump of flowers with his wand. 

"I wasn't toying with her," Fred said, seeming defensive. "I just...wanted to see if she would actually take the points away."

"Sureeeeeeeeeeee...." George replied, obviously doubtful. "You were flirting with her. In front of the whole courtyard, mind you."

"That was not flirting," Fred scoffed, focused on his sketchbook.

"What are you drawing?" George asked, getting up from his place on the couch to look at Fred's sketchbook.

"Nothing," Fred said, holding the sketchbook tight to his chest. "It's none of your business."

"Oh come on, Fred. Get off it. Show me the bloody sketch," George said, holding out his hand for the sketchbook.

Fred huffed, reluctantly handing it over. George took hold of the sketchbook, turning it so he could see the sketch. On the paper was a replica of your face. Fred had perfectly mimicked the stubborn fire behind your eyes.

"Oh, so you obviously don't fancy her," George mocked, still staring at the sketch.

"I never said that I didn't fancy her," Fred said. "I only said that I wasn't flirting with her."

"Where is this even coming from in the first place?" George asked. "We've known her for years and you just now fancy her?"

Fred shrugged. "I've always thought she was nice. Not as insufferable as some of those other Ravenclaws. But...I don't know. Something is different now. She isn't falling over herself for my attention."

"Oh, so you like her because she's a challenge?" George replied, his voice mocking. "That's endearing."

"Shut it, you prat. I can't explain it. She's just different. She's confident, and she's smart, and she doesn't back down. Most of the girls at Hogwarts aren't like that," Fred explained.

"The only girl here who knows how to talk back is Ang, but she's mine," George chuckled. "Interesting that we both like a strong-willed girl. Must be a twin thing."

Fred socked his twin in the arm, taking his sketchbook back. "You're being an arse."

"Never thought you'd fancy a Ravenclaw. They seem a bit too bookish for you. And how do you even know she fancies you too?" George rambled.

"I'm not sure if she does, but I can change that," Fred said, a smirk crossing his features. "I'm going to get her to come to the match this weekend. She'll be mine before the weekend is over, you'll see."

----

Students were buzzing at breakfast on Saturday morning. It was the day of the big Gryffindor vs. Slytherin quidditch match, and everyone was nervous with anticipation for the face-off. You were somewhat indifferent to quidditch, but you usually went with your friends for something to do on a Saturday afternoon. It gave you a break from doing homework in the library.

You had just taken another bite of toast when someone tapped on your shoulder. You put the toast on your plate, turning around in confusion. Standing behind you was none other than Fred Weasley. A grin was on his lips and his hands were behind his back.

"Yes, Weasley?" you said, slight irritation lacing your voice. You had finally gotten him to stay out of your thoughts, and now here he was again.

"I wanted to make sure that you're coming to the match today," he said, a certain sweetness in his voice. "And I wanted to give you this."

Fred pulled a scarf out from behind his back. It was his Gryffindor scarf, adorned with his house colors, crest, and initials. You stared at it in disbelief as it hung from his hands in front of you.

"Uhm...okay," you replied, sheepishly taking the scarf from him. A blush was starting to form on your cheeks. This was quite the unexpected move from Fred.

"If you're going to cheer for me, you need to be wearing my colors," he said, giving you a wink. This did nothing to calm the redness of your cheeks. You racked your brain for a snide remark to shoot back at him.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Weasley, but if this is you trying to mark your territory, I don't want it," you said, finally regaining your resolve.

His eyes softened, making your stomach flutter. Damn it.

"I'm not marking my territory, birdie. I just wanted a pretty girl to have my scarf. You're my lucky charm today," he replied, cocking his head to the side in a way that gave him a boyish vibe.

You huffed in response, reluctant to accept his answer. Before you could make another snappy reply, Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I don't mark my territory with a scarf, darling," he whispered, his voice low enough to give you chills. "I can show you later if you'd like."

You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw. You were not going to let Fred Weasley know that he could make you flustered. He can make any girl at Hogwarts swoon, but you were determined to not be one of them.

Fred backed away, a devious smirk on his lips. "I'll see you in the stands, birdie."

Fred left the Great Hall as if nothing had happened. You sat there trying to catch your breath, irritated at him for getting you so wound up. He was infuriating. But for some reason, you liked it.

----

You settled into the stands with Cho and Beatrice. Fred's scarf was in your backpack, and you were still debating on whether or not to wear it. 

"Come on, just put it on! It's cute that he gave you his scarf," Beatrice said, nudging your shoulder with hers. "Fred is adorable. All of the other girls are going to be jealous."

"Bea, Fred is a troublemaker," Cho replied. "He doesn't have the best reputation, and I wouldn't want to get mixed up in that if it were me. Wearing that scarf is just going to bring unwanted attention."

You had been stewing over this ever since breakfast. Now you knew that Fred's flirting wasn't just your overactive imagination or wishful thinking. It was real. You had to decide what to do, and you weren't quite sure of his intentions. 

"Wait, I have an idea," you blurted out, getting up from the stands before Beatrice or Cho could reply.

Your feet carried you to a place that you had been many, many times before. The Slytherin quidditch team's locker room. 

You had dated Adrian Pucey for most of last year, and you used the locker room as a place to hook up after hours. The breakup was relatively amicable. Adrian wanted to get more serious, and you were too focused on passing your O.W.L.s. You parted ways on good terms, but you knew he would be willing to get back together if you asked. 

You knocked on the locker room door, and Draco was the one to answer.

"Yes?" he asked, half-dressed in his uniform.

"Can you get Adrian for me?" you asked, crossing your arms as you leaned against the door frame.

Draco shut the door. It opened a few moments later, but this time it was Adrian.

"Hey," he said, taking in your figure in the doorway. He always looked at you like that. A mix of lust and admiration. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," you replied, inching closer to him. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course, love," he said, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

Part of you felt guilty for this. Toying with Adrian was totally unnecessary, but you wanted to get under Fred's skin in the same way that he got under yours.

"Can I wear your scarf today?" you asked sweetly. "For old time's sake? And for good luck. I'm rooting for you."

"Anything for you," he replied. "I'll be back with it in a moment."

You huffed a sigh of relief as he turned back into the locker room to fetch the scarf. You had worn it to all of his matches last year, cheering for him from the stands even though you didn't understand all of the rules of quidditch.

Adrian returned to the door with his scarf, handing it to you.

"Thank you," you said. "I'll give it back after the match. You're going to be great."

You leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at you in the same way that he always had. It made your heart hurt in a way, but you were motivated by vengeance. 

You made your way back up into the stands to sit with Beatrice and Cho. You sat down, weaving Adrian's scarf around your neck.

Beatrice gasped. "You're a masher! Adrian's scarf!?"

You smirked, pleased with yourself. "Adrian and I are still friends. He deserves to win today."

Cho groaned. "You're digging your own grave. Fred is going to be insufferable when he sees you. And leading Adrian on? That's just dodgy."

"I'm not leading him on," you said, feeling defensive. "I just asked to wear his scarf for good luck. I didn't promise that we were getting back together."

"Whatever," Cho replied. "You're making your own mess."

The conversation came to an end as both teams entered the pitch. The crowd cheered as the players lined up on opposite sides of the pitch, awaiting their introductions. 

As the announcers began, Adrian's eyes found yours. You shot him a thumbs up, and he nodded at you with a small smile on his face. It was just like old times, and a pang of sadness shot through you.

From the moment that he stepped onto the pitch, Fred immediately clocked the scarf that you were wearing. The silver and green. Slytherin crest. The "AP" stitched onto the bottom of it near the fringe. He felt like his blood was boiling. 

He watched the interaction between you and Adrian, noticing the way that Adrian looked at you. You still had Adrian wrapped around your finger, and that pissed Fred off. He loved competition, but he loved winning even more. 

You finally dared to look at Fred and instantly regretted it. His jaw was locked in anger, and his eyes were burning into yours. Your stomach dropped for a moment, taking away the feeling of victory you had. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Before you could process the wave of emotions hitting you, the match had begun. You watched in anticipation, as Fred was now more determined than ever to bring home a win for Gryffindor. 

You chattered with Cho and Beatrice to try to calm your thoughts. What was Fred going to say to you after the match? You were wringing your hands in nervousness, dreading the interaction that you knew was going to come later. 

The crowd erupted into cheers as the announcer declared that Gryffindor had caught the Golden Snitch. You were on your feet in seconds, watching the Gryffindor team fly to the ground and pile onto each other in celebration. 

You felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You were sure that Slytherin was going to win. Everyone was predicting that. This victory was unexpected, and you knew that it would give Fred another reason to gloat.

The teams lined up to congratulate each other, a practice that was required by the school because of past instances of bad sportsmanship between the teams. They high-fived each other, muttering "good game" before moving on to the next player.

Fred had finally reached Adrian. "Good game, Weasley," Adrian conceded through tight lips.

"Thanks Pucey," Fred replied, slapping Adrian's hand in a somewhat friendly high-five. "Is that your girl up there?"

Fred nodded to where you were standing with Beatrice and Cho in the crowd. Adrian's scarf was still wound around your neck, and you were playing with the fringe on the ends.

"Um....not anymore," Adrian admitted.

You were watching Fred and Adrian from your place in the stands. Seeing them converse made you feel uneasy. Especially when Fred began smirking. The look on his face was nothing short of diabolical.

"That's too bad," Fred said. "She looks cracking in that scarf. But I think she'd look even better with my hands around her neck."

You couldn't make out what they were saying, but the next thing you knew, Adrian's fist was connecting with Fred's face. It took only seconds for the other players to begin hollering and beating on each other.

The professors hurried into action, herding the spectating students toward the castle and attempting to break apart the fighting players. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Why would Adrian hit Fred?

The more you thought about it, the more you were able to paint a picture of what likely had happened. Fred has a smart mouth, and Adrian has a quick temper. It's a lethal combination.

----

You were stood in front of your mirror, fiddling with the skirt that Beatrice had lent you. She insisted on going to the Gryffindor victory party tonight. She had her eye on Oliver Wood, and she refused to go alone.

Parties weren't usually your scene. You had gone to a couple of Slytherin parties last year, but you hadn't stayed for long. You were usually only there long enough to take a few shots of firewhiskey, talk to friends, and would leave with Adrian to hook up.

Because of this, your wardrobe was not fit for a Gryffindor victory party. Some girls showed up in not much more than a bra and short skirt, while others opted for tying up their uniform tops and jeans. Beatrice was kind enough to let you borrow an outfit, but it made you self-conscious nonetheless.

It was only a plain black skirt and cropped cami. Nothing fancy, but you felt unlike yourself. Your day to day outfit was your uniform, and even then you paired it with preppy Oxfords and frilly socks. Nothing that screamed "sexy". You grabbed for your oversized flannel that you usually wore on the weekends, deciding that an extra layer would help your comfort level.

"Babe, you need to relax," Beatrice said, peering into the mirror on her desk to put the final touches on her lipgloss. "It's just a Gryffindor party. And you can leave once I have Oliver in my clutches."

"I know," you said, sounding defeated. "I just...Fred is going to be there."

You caught Beatrice's eyebrows raise from the reflection of the mirror. "Oh, so you're getting all worked up over Fred?"

You huffed. "No! I mean...he's just...he's going to be mad about the scarf."

"He's probably too knackered from the match today to care," Beatrice replied. "And from the beating he got from Adrian."

A lightbulb clicked on inside your head. You had forgotten to return Adrian's scarf. It was in your book bag. You reached for it, pulling out the scarf.

"That reminds me that I have to return this to Adrian," you said, turning towards the door. "I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes, I promise."

Before Beatrice could answer, you had already whirled out the door and down the stairs. You were headed for the Dungeons.

You still knew the passcode to the Slytherin dormitories, so getting inside was no problem at all. You made your way into their common room, finding Adrian on the couch with several of his quidditch teammates.

Your cheeks began to burn when he looked at you. It felt like he was devouring you with his eyes. He gulped, sitting up from the couch to greet you.

"Hey, love," he said, walking toward you. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yes, sorry," you said, feeling suddenly sheepish. "I came to return your scarf as promised."

You held it up to hand it to him, and he grabbed the other end, using it to pull you closer.

"You look....I don't even have words," he muttered, sending a lightning bolt down your spine. His hand found its way to your hip, and you felt squirmy under his touch. "Where are you headed?"

"Uhm...I'm going to the Gryffindor party with Bea," you admitted, pulling away from him. "She wanted support in her mission to get with Oliver Wood."

Adrian chuckled and let out a huff. "She's always up to something. Are you planning on spending any time with Weasley?"

"Adrian..." you started.

"No, you need to hear this. What he said about you," Adrian said, anger rising in his voice. "That prat sees you as nothing more than a good shag."

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling nervous. "I can make my own decisions, Adrian," you said softly, feeling small.

"I know, love, but I don't want you to get hurt. He's a prick. He gets bad marks. And the way he talks about girls? Disgusting," Adrian spat out, shaking his head.

"I'm not going to the party for Fred, I'm going for Bea," you said, hoping to soothe his frustration.

"He's just...I don't like the idea of him being anywhere near you. What he said about you today....he deserved that black eye," he grumbled.

"What did he say?" you finally asked, your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He said something about my scarf. How you would look prettier with his hands around your throat," Adrian said, sounding disgusted as the words came out of his mouth.

Your face felt like it was on fire. What was Fred thinking? Anyone who knew Adrian was well aware of his temper. A remark like that about you was a surefire way to get beat up.

"I...you know Fred. He was probably joking," you said, trying to brush it off.

"No. The look on his face...he was dead serious. Nobody gets to talk that way about you," Adrian replied, his fists balling at his sides.

"Adrian," you said, reaching out to touch his arm. "I promise you that I can take care of myself. I can handle Fred. He's just being a git, that's nothing new for him."

"I know, love," he sighed, melting into your touch. "I just worry about you. You know that I care."

You nodded, retracting your hand from its place on his arm. "And I appreciate that. But I can stand my ground. Beatrice will be with me the whole time, and once she's off with Oliver, I'm going to go back to my room. I will be okay."

This seemed to calm him down, as he finally unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Be safe," he said, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

You turned back toward the entrance to the common room, making your way back up to Bea's room. It had definitely been at least 15 minutes by now, and she was likely getting antsy waiting for your return.

----

You and Bea stood on the fringes of the Gryffindor common room. It was packed with students with cups in their hands. The music was loud enough that you thought the lights would start shaking. 

"Let's get some shots," Bea said, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the makeshift bar set up near the fireplace. 

She picked up two shots, handing one to you. "Down the hatch," Bea said, taking her own shot.

You followed suit, grimacing at the burning sensation that followed. You had never enjoyed firewhiskey.

Bea occupied herself by looking for Oliver. You saw a tall ginger mingling with a group of other Gryffindors, and you couldn't quite tell if it was Fred or George from your view of the back of his head. 

"Looking for me, darling?" a voice said from behind you. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his chest.

You turned to face him. His freckled face was marred with a black eye, the bruise extending from underneath his eye to the top of his cheekbone. Adrian must have hit him pretty hard.

You winced as you took in the injury, imagining that it had to hurt. "What, am I really that ugly?" Fred asked in a teasing tone. 

You stared up at him with a tight-lipped expression, crossing your arms. "It sounds like you deserved that black eye," you remarked.

Fred shrugged. "My words had their intended effect. Is Pucey still fuming?"

"You are such a git," you said, irritated at his lack of maturity. "I know what you said."

"Birdie, it's nothing that I wouldn't say to your face," he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

"Stop calling me that," you replied, feeling angrier by the second. "I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm not an object. Now piss off."

Fred was taken aback by your words. His little game had gone too far.

"Darling, I didn't mean--" he started, reaching for your arm.

"I mean it Weasley," you said, your voice raising in volume. You shoved his chest, forcing him away from you. "Piss off."

Before he could get in another word, you had stormed off to find Bea. She had to be here somewhere.

In your mission to find Bea, you stumbled into Angelina. "Sorry, Angelina," you said, nearly knocking her drink out of her hand. "Have you seen Bea?"

She shook her head. "Last I saw her, she was with Wood. I haven't seen them in a bit, though."

You mumbled a thank you and continued your hunt. If she was off somewhere snogging Oliver Wood, you would be pretty impressed. That would be record time for Bea. 

You went up the stairs toward the dormitories, determined to find your friend. You began knocking on doors, hoping that Bea was behind one of them. You didn't want to leave until you knew she was safe.

One of the doors was cracked open, and you knocked. Nobody answered, so you peeked your head in. 

Someone was sitting in the dark, their head in their hands. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized who it was. 

"Fred?" you called into the dark room, your voice soft.

The figure picked up its head. "Yes?" he replied, his voice quiet and full of despair.

You entered the room, closing the door behind you. You pulled out your wand, muttering "lumos" before going any further.

Fred was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees. As you got closer, you noticed his face. It was puffy and red as if he had been crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked, sitting criss cross on the floor in front of him.

He shook his head, clenching and unclenching his jaw. You sat there in silence for a few moments before he swallowed, finally answering. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quiet enough that it sounded like a whisper. "I didn't mean...you're not...I'm just so sorry."

You looked up at Fred. There was a softness in his eyes that you had seen a few times before. It was genuine. He looked absolutely gutted. 

"Why are you sorry?" you asked, carefully prodding at him for answers.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like....like some sort of object," he said, sounding embarrassed. "You're not. I don't see you like that. I've been messing with you, but I took it too far. And I'm sorry."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You had never seen Fred this vulnerable. And you had never heard him apologize before. 

"You're just...I thought we were both toying with each other. I liked it. The way you talk back to me, your stubbornness. I love that about you. But making you feel like I only see you as someone to shag...that's not what I intended. That's not how I feel," he continued. 

"Fred," you said, sitting up on your knees. You reached for his hand, holding it for a second before he pulled away. 

"I really do like you. I am so sorry that I made you upset," Fred said, locking eyes with you again. "You don't have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. You deserve better."

You stood up from your place on the floor. You parted his knees, standing directly in front of him. He looked up at you from his place sitting on the bed, nothing but softness in his gaze. He truly was sorry, and you knew it. 

Your hand found its way to his cheek, your thumb stroking his cheekbone that was bruised purple. You swallowed hard.

You leaned down, your lips meeting his in a whisper of a kiss. It was gentle, it barely even felt like your lips met at all. But you forgave him. This was your way of showing it. 

You pulled apart, but your gaze still held. "I forgive you, Fred," you whispered, your hand still on his cheek.

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Not a mischievous grin like usual, but a genuine, kind smile. One filled with adoration. 

Fred was like putty in your hands. His tough exterior gave way to a person who was sensitive and kind. You had seen glimpses of that before, but never like this.

You finally knew how he felt about you. His feelings were genuine. And you were willing to trust him if he continued to be this vulnerable in front of you.

"I do quite enjoy teasing you," you said, smirking down at him.

"I knew it," he replied with a small chuckle, his hand lightly touching against your hip.

You were still stood between his legs, quite a precarious position. You knew exactly where you were going to go from here.

You shoved him back onto the bed, and he let out a "hmph" of surprise. Before he even got a word in, you were on top of him, straddling his torso.

Fred's eyes were wide with surprise and his brows dipped in confusion. "I thought you were sorry," you said, your voice dropping lower than usual, sounding almost sultry.

"I am," he said, still confused.

"Then prove it," you challenged him, placing a hand firmly on his chest.

Fred grinned up at you. Now you were on the same page. "Are you sure about that, darling?" he asked.

"Did I stutter?" you replied, a slight sharpness to your voice as you looked down at him.

His grin widened. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he teased.

In a matter of seconds, Fred had flipped you onto your back and pinned your hands over your head. He looked down at you, obviously very pleased with himself.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, locking eyes with you.

You gulped. "I don't want you to."

Fred leaned down to kiss you, your hands still pinned firmly above your head. He shifted so he was holding your wrists with only one hand, using the other to trail up your side.

The kisses started off slow at first, but they quickly gained in pace as Fred felt you squirming underneath him. "Impatient, are we?" he said between kisses.

You only groaned in reply, fighting against him to gain control of your hands again. His free hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer into him. You wrapped your legs around his torso, begging him to be as close as possible.

His kisses migrated down to your jaw, then to your neck. He sucked a few love bites into the base of your neck, and you were dreading explaining those to your roommates in the morning. 

Fred was relishing in the tiny moans that were escaping from your mouth. He knew that you were desperate, so he was determined to take his time. 

"Freddie, please," you said, your voice almost sounding like a whine.

"Oh, so I'm Freddie now?" he teased, kissing along your collarbones. He alternated between kissing and nipping at your sensitive skin, and it was driving you insane.

"If this is your way of apologizing, I don't forgive you," you teased back, squeezing your thighs around his midsection. Fred chuckled.

"What would you like then, birdie?" he asked, suddenly sounding sweet and innocent. His eyes found yours, and your voice got caught in your throat. You wished he didn't have that effect on you.

"Let me think..." you replied, trailing off in pretend thought. "Most people I know apologize on their knees."

Fred's eyes changed, the playful glint being replaced by a competitive fire. His trademark smirk crept across his face, and you knew you were in for it.

"Alright then," he said, finally releasing you. He backed off of the bed, standing on the floor in front of you.

Fred grabbed you by the backs of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed in one fluid motion. You giggled in reply, surprised by his sudden movements.

"I meant to tell you, this outfit is cracking," he said, tracing his hands down your thighs. A bolt of lightning ran down your spine, and you arched off of the bed. "I think you could lose the skirt, though."

Fred looked to you for permission, waiting for you to nod before he drew your legs together and tugged at your skirt. He pulled it all the way off, folding it before putting it on the floor.

"You're folding my clothes at a time like this?" you joked, trying not to feel embarrassed as you lay on his bed in only your top and knickers.

"You don't strike me as someone who likes creases in their clothes," he replied, pulling your legs open and kneeling on the floor. "You're a prefect, for Merlin's sake."

"Don't remind me of that while I'm half naked in your dormitory," you scolded him, playfully knocking at him with your knees.

"You're a good girl, I like that," Fred commented, brushing his hands on the outside of your thighs. He placed a kiss next to your knee, slowly kissing down your inner thighs. 

You tried to even your breathing, frustrated at how worked up you were over just some kisses. You were no stranger to sex, but this was something different altogether. Fred made you feel like your skin was on fire. 

Fred had finally reached your knickers, kissing along the waistband. A whimper escaped from your lips, and he looked up at you.

What a vision. Fred Weasley, cheeks flushed, lips pink, staring up at you with lust-filled eyes from between your legs. Your heart was beating so fast that you knew he could feel it too.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" Fred asked, his fingers playing along your waistband. 

"Freddie....please," was all you could manage to say. Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He pulled at your knickers, bringing your legs together so he could take them off. Instead of folding them like your skirt, he simply tossed them to the side.

"Will you tell me if you want to stop?" Fred asked, becoming serious for a moment. 

"Yes," you replied, reaching down to cup his face. You could still make out his freckles from the glint of your wand light. He was simply perfect.

Fred kissed your wrist, then kissed along your thighs once more. Your breathing became more rapid in anticipation of where his mouth would go next.

You could feel his breath on you. His lips finally made contact with your center, your hands gripping at his ginger locks.

He licked at your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. You moaned, your fingernails digging into his scalp.

It took him only moments to find his groove, causing moans and swears to fall from your lips as he worked you closer to your release.

"Freddie," you breathed out, tugging at his hair. He groaned into you, making your back arch even further off of the bed.

You bit your lip, trying to fight off your orgasm. Finishing this quickly felt like letting him win, and you couldn't have that. 

Fred could feel the tension building within your body. His hand reached up to find your cami, snaking underneath it. He expertly located your nipple, playing with it with his fingers. His mouth never left you for a second.

Your body finally gave in, tired from resisting the pleasure. Your hips bucked lightly off of the bed, a mix of "fuck"s and "Freddie"s leaving your mouth.

Fred worked you down from your orgasm slowly, finally leaving your clit to put a few love bites on your thighs. Your chest was heaving, and you were trying to find the words to say to him.

"So fucking gorgeous, birdie," he said, his eyes burning into yours. 

You moved backwards on the bed, motioning for him to join you. He got up from the floor, laying on the bed next to you.

"Do you forgive me now?" he teased, turning on his side to look at you.

"Hmmm...I'll need to consider it," you replied, grinning at him. 

Fred had been in control, but now it was your turn. You pushed at his shoulders, turning him so he was laying on his back. You straddled him once again, but he looked less surprised this time.

"You really love being in charge of me, huh?" he joked, his hands stroking at your sides. 

"It's only fair, Freddie. I am a prefect, as you so graciously reminded me," you said, propping your hands on his chest. 

"Okay, madam prefect. Are you going to give me detention?" he said, rolling his eyes at you as he grinned.

"You wish. An hour with me in a classroom? Sounds like a scene from your dreams," you teased. 

You leaned down to kiss him, hands still on his chest. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in closer.

A loud knock on the door interrupted your kissing. You and Fred scrambled apart, and you had pulled on your skirt in a matter of seconds.

Fred went to the door, cracking it open. "Is she with you?" a voice asked, sounding a lot like Beatrice.

You came up beside Fred so Beatrice could see you in the room. She looked you up and down, taking in your messy hair and crooked clothing.

"I...um, I was just coming to tell you that I'm going back to the dormitories," Bea said, obviously shocked at the sight in front of her. 

"Okay, I'll come with you," you said. "I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes."

Bea nodded, turning and heading back toward the common room. Fred shut the door, and you looked for a mirror. You found one, attempting to tame your hair and straighten out your clothes.

"Perfect prefect doesn't like to get caught hooking up with troublemakers, does she?" Fred asked, half teasing and half serious.

"Fred," you said, turning to face him. 

"No, I get it. Not good for your image, or whatever," he said, busying himself with straightening the covers on his bed. 

"Freddie, look at me," you commanded, your voice edging between soft and authoritative.

He turned to you, his face unreadable. 

"I like you Freddie," you said, taking a few steps toward him. "I'm not worried about my image. Yes, I'm a prefect, but I don't have a broom up my arse."

Fred chuckled. You took the last few steps, finally standing in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pulling him into a hug. Your head rested perfectly against his chest, and his hands found their way into your hair. 

"I'm sorry for antagonizing Adrian," Fred said, talking into your hair. "I know that he still loves you. I shouldn't have used that against him."

"Yeah, not your brightest idea," you replied, face still buried in his chest. "Adrian will understand eventually. He won't like it, but it's not up to him."

"Godric, you're sexy," Fred said, squeezing you tighter.

You laughed. "What was that for?"

"You don't let anyone tell you what to do. It's bloody irresistible," he replied. 

"You're included in that, you know," you said.

"Oh, I am very aware," he chuckled. 

"I have to go home with Bea," you said, slowly pulling out of the hug. "See you around?"

"'See you around'? That's the best you've got?" Fred joked, kissing the top of your head. 

"You wouldn't like me if I weren't hard to get," you replied, standing on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips. 

You turned and opened the door, glancing over your shoulder at him.

"I will never stop pursuing you, birdie."

----

Link to next part

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)

Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".

(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)

He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.

Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.

"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"

Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.

To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.

So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.

But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.

He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.

Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.

Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.

They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.

And it's all him.

Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.

This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.

But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.

He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.

Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.

And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.

Speaking of love, let's talk about that!

No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.

And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!

Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?

Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.

He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.

He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.

The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!

He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.

His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".

And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!

He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).

And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?

And of course, as the Bible itself says:

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

(John 15:13)

And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.

[mayanneaa]

hits different - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader

SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.

WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language

A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me

WC : 1.7k

masterlist.

After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.

You aren’t together anymore.

He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.

You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”

The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.

The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.

It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.

You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.

“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.

"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"

"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."

JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.

"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."

The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.

His mind still replays that cold May night.

You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"

He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."

You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"

Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.

"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.

You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?

"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"

The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."

You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"

You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.

It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.

The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.

His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?

JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.

He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.

Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.

Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.

His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?

Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.

“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.

The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.

“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just… worry.

JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.

“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”

JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”

“Why did you end this?”

The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something…?”

“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.

Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”

“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You… you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”

“JJ.”

The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.

“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”

A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.

He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and… I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”

With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.

Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”

“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”

“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”

You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”

[rafesslxt]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | 𝐚.𝐬.

nsfw content | anakin x female bsf!reader | moodboard

aesthetic: 🎞️🍝🫂🫦❤️‍🔥 | words: 3,5k

「 ✦ after just another bad date you seek comfort from your best friend and roommate Anakin which turns into a steamy session ✦ 」

warnings: smut, modern!anakin, best friends to lovers, reader describing her worst date ever to Anakin, making out, hand job, blowjob, teasing, just the tip first, unprotected p in v, pxrn link inserted into the story so don't open in public, fucking the whole night, begging, breeding kink I think

note: the p!link is from twitter, you have to be logged in to twitter to watch it/ be able to see it. English is not my first language.

"Movie night?"

When Anakin read my message, he instantly knew my date didn't went well. It was something like a tradition between us whenever someone seeks comfort.

He replied with a "Of course, when will you be here? Have you already eaten?" He always asked me that. If I have eaten and drunken enough, every day.

"I'll be there in 30 and no not really." I replied before putting my phone away to drive back home.

After college Anakin and me moved in together after being roommates in school, that's how we met each other in first place. It was just always so easy between us. No drama, no arguing, no cleaning after each other. Most of the times.

When I pulled up at our apartment I kind of knew what awaited me already. With a sigh I entered the apartment, smelling food which put a smile on my face. I heard Anakin walking towards me.

"Woah." he says, eyeing me up and down in my new dress. "Thank's.. that's even more than he said." I chuckled and pulled off my heels. "That bad huh?" he asks me, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest.

"Yeah, that bad. I'll just change and come back down yeah?" I say, already up the stairs to change out of my tight dress. When I looked at myself in the mirror I just didn't get it. I looked bomb, why he hell were all these guys I date so.. trashy? It's not like my character didn‘t matched my looks.

With a groan I changed into grey loose sweatpants and a sports bra. Walking back down into the living room I just couldn't hide my smile when I saw the dimmed lights, Harry Potter on our TV and snacks on the little coffee table. The couch was covered with blankets and pillows. I walked further into the kitchen where Anakin stood, putting Pasta on two plates.

I walked up behind him and hugged him from behind so my cheek was pressed against his back. "Thank you Ani." I muttered. "No problem. Come on take your plate and lets watch Harry Potter so you can tell me what it was this time." he had to hide a chuckle, not wanting to make me mad.

I did like he told me and sat down on our couch with my plate in hand, starting to eat as he starts the movie. "Soo..?" he begins, digging into his food now too.

"Ugh it was.. hideous! It started really good you know. He was dressed well, we met in front of this really nice restaurant and talking to him was so easy. Until, we looked for what to order. I told him to just order the lasagna for me because I had to go to the bathroom."

"Oh I have a feeling where this is leading to.." Anakin joked with a smirk on his lips.

"So when I came back everything was fine, he tells me he ordered food so we continue talking until the food comes and that motherfucker just ordered a fucking salad for me. And you know what? That's not even the worst! Without fucking dressing because apparently 'that's what makes you gain weight'."

"What?" Now he was full on laughing and almost chocking on his food. "Oh that has to be the best story of 'em all by now."

"Oh no I'm not finished, the story goes further. So I'm sitting there, the waitress looking at me apologetic, I didn't even knew what to say so I just ate that excuse of a salad and when I asked him why he ordered it, he tells me 'I like em skinny' , like, what the fuck?"

Anakin puts his food away now because he had to laugh so hard he fell on his back. "Ani!" I whined but also laughing a litte. " I-I'm sorry that happened to you but- but It's so funny to me imagining you sitting there like 'What the fuck bro' "

"After that I thought it couldn't get more worse so why not go home with him and at least get a good fuck out of it, right? So we drive home to him, talking, blabla. Then it get's heated and shit and Ani, I swear to god I had to hold back on laughing when he pulled down his pants! I never felt so bad for someone in my life! "

At this point Anakin forgot how to breath properly. Laughing so loud the whole neighborhood had to hear.

"And when he wanted to go down on me and I let him, it was so bad I just had to stop him and tell him I have to go and oh boy he didn't took that well. He got so mad to a point where he told me girls would fight me to be at my place right now.When I opened the door to leave and he asked me what my problem was I just told him 'I like em big' like he told me he likes the skinny in the restaurant."

All you could hear through the apartment was Anakin's laugh. "Stooop it's so bad I'm just thinking about dating girls!" I joke and smile at him as he slowly calms down with tears in his eyes.

"You probably broke him at this point." he laughs, teasing me a litte. " Yeah I hope so to be honest. Maybe he will let women order what they like now."

He giggles and starts eating again.

"I just think I‘ll go for older guys at this point." I huff rolling my eyes and really considering it while digging into my food too.

"Older guys?" Anakin repeats with a full mouth and looks at me with knitted eyebrows. "Yeah, maybe it's the age. Like, all these so called men, just act like little boys."

"Hey! I'm not a boy!" Anakin looks at me with an opened mouth, acting as If he was shocked. I roll my eyes at him playfully before putting my empty plate away. "Oh yeah? What makes you different from all these boys I go out with huh?" I ask him with a teasing smirk on my face.

"Uh - did you ever see one running out that door before ?" He was right, they never run away from him. It's the opposite to be exact. They always try to stay, most of the times giving me dirty looks which I find funny every time.

"No, but thanks for reminding me how I always have to wear headphones." "Not my fault I'm that good." he says with an arrogant smile. I only scoff to this and turn back to the Tv. If I'm being honest, I would give a lot to be with someone like Anakin. They always sound like they are having the time of their lives. Lord help me.

After a while of watching the movie in front of us together I got kind of.. impatient? No that's the wrong word. I just couldn't stay still, always shifting somehow every few minutes.

"Whats wrong?" he whispers with a soft voice, my head on his shoulder. "Uhm, I don't know I feel uneasy." "Uneasy?" "Yeah." I simply reply. I shift again, pressing my thighs together this time.

"You sure you mean uneasy and not horny?" he grins now, licking his lips. "Fuck off." I answer him, rolling my eyes. " No, I'm serious, maybe that's why you're so pent up. When was the last time you actually had an orgasm while having sex?" My eyes go wide and I turn my head back to him, shock on my face. " Anakin! I'm not telling you that!"

"Why not? We always tell each other everything. I'm sure this wouldn't hurt to answer right?" I sigh and look away again. "I don't know." I answer him quietly.

"Come on, tell me. I bet - " "Anakin that was my answer to your question. I don't know. I don't know when the last time was." I repeat.

"What? What do you mean you don't know? You were in a relationship half a year ago with -" I interrupted him again. "He never made me come." I sigh again as this just reminded me at how desperate I was at this point.

"Wow.. " he just breathed out with his eyebrows knitted and a little smug grin on his face.

An idea popped into my head, but I tried to shake it away as fast as I could. "What? What is it?" he asked, seeing my expression. "I - never mind, Anakin. Just – let's watch the movie again, okay?"

But he shook his head and turned my head towards his with his fingers on my chin. "No, tell me what you were thinking. I can see it in your face."

Suddenly my face got all red and I felt the heat rising up my neck. I never felt that way around Anakin, I was always comfortable and easy, calming down my nerves instead of getting them wrecked.

"I uh - I really can‘t tell you Ani." He tilted his head down a little and looked at me with piercing eyes. "Tell me." he commanded and repeated himself.

I swallowed down the clump that had formed in my throat. I knew that look, it was the same one he used on all these girls in clubs and bars before taking them home.

"Please don‘t look at me like that." "Why not?" yes that scene aaahh

"It‘s making me uncomfortable..“ i lied, looking away with my eyes even tho he still holds my chin. "Come on, tell me.."

Here goes nothing huh? "Would you.. I mean.. help me?" "Help you with what?" Oh now he was just teasing me. "Ani.. you know what.." I whined and glared at him, my eyes on his again. He just shook his head and and a deep chuckle rumbled through his throat.

"Maybe.. but I still want you to say it." "I want you to fuck me." I blurted out bluntly. There it is. No way back now.

"You sure you want me to do that? Because there‘s no backing down from it.“ I nod my head as a sign of 'yes' before he crashed his lips into mine.

Both his hands found the sides of my face and placed themselves there, stroking the skin with his thumbs almost in a loving kind of way. When I finally realized what was happening, I pushed him back onto his back and sat down on his lap.

One of his hands ghosted over my bare back since I only wore my sportsbra, down to my ass, grabbing it and pushing me more against his hips.

"Fuck you have no idea how long I‘ve wanted this y/n.." he groaned against my lips, kissing me with passion. "Really?"

He pulled away for a moment and stared at me as If I had three heads. "Are you kidding me? You know how many boners I‘ve had in my life when you walked around in the morning with nothing but my shirt on? Or when you came back from the gym all sweaty and panting in your little shorts?"

I had to chuckle lightly and shook my head. "Well sorry 'bout that then.." " Don‘t worry baby, now‘s your chance to make up for it." he smirked before he started kissing my neck and placing his hand on my thigh, squeezing it through my sweatpants. His soft lips left a wet trail down my skin, sending shivers down my spine. His scent filled my nose and made my head dizzy.

I started grinding against him, already feeling his boner through his pants. My fingers pulled his zipper down eagerly and pushed his pants down. "Shit.." i mumble to myself when I saw the big tent in his boxers. He glared up at me with a proud smirk on his lips. "What?Surprised?" he smirked and put his hands on my hip, grinding me against it again.

"You will be my last try with guys my age. If this ends just like all my other dates then I’m gonna go for older guys." I huff, supporting myself with my hands on his shoulders. I gazed down at him, taking in his angelic face. He always looked so beautiful to me, even more now when he bit his lip and his eyelids were heavy and hooded like he enjoyed this just as much as I did.

"You'll never think about someone else when I'm ready with you, promised." he groans, lifting his hips up against my core. Both his hands found my ass again before he suddenly got up from the couch, carrying me up the stairs. "I'm gonna fuck you into your mattress so every time you sleep in your bed, you smell us."

He kicked my door open and walked towards my bed where he let me down at the edge. My hands immediately found his boxers which I pulled down, met by his hard cock slapping against his stomach. I swallowed the clump in my throat down before looking back up at him. "What? Surprised?" he asked with an arrogant smirk.

I bit my lip and looked back down, slowly taking him into my hand. The tip was already leaking pre-cum over it's red skin. He was thick and a lot bigger than the guys I've had before him. I let a finger slide down a prominent vein that started at the base and ended right before the tip.

With my hand around him, I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around the tip, teasingly sucking on it while my hand slowly moved up and down his shaft.

"Mmhh fuck, I'm gonna go insane If this is just another dream." Dream? He was dreaming about me? Doing stuff like that with him? My ego boosted, so I sunk down a bit further with my mouth before I felt Anakin's hands in my hair, tugging at my scalp.

My second hand steadied against his thigh and pushing him back every time he wants to go deeper. I let go of him and started to just kiss the head, letting my tongue glide over it. "Stop teasing me.." I heard him mumble, his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly.

I let my tongue glide over his cock from the bottom to the top which seemed to be the final straw for his not existing patience. He pushed my back onto the bed so my head met one of my pillows. He tugged my pants and top of, leaving me in just my slip. His eyes slowly wandered over my body with a soft smile on his lips.

"You're beautiful y/n." I don't know what it was but something inside my stomach moved when he said my name like that. He leaned between my legs, one hand stroking the inside of my thigh. "Your skin is so soft.." he started kissing the same spots where his hand just rested a few seconds ago. ".. and you smell even better."

He pushed his thumb right against my clit through my soaked underwear. "Ani.." I moaned, pushing my head back into the pillow.

"What do you want, hm?" he tauntingly asked as If he didn't knew the answer. "Fuck me, please." I saw the surprise in his face when I answered him so bluntly without batting even one lash.

"Oh where's the fun in giving you what you want so soon, huh?" He pushed my underwear to the side, his grip hard around the cotton. "Shit.." he groaned when he saw me exposed, licking his lips hungrily. "I'm gonna wreck your world baby." he more laughed to himself than with me. He pushed his fat tip against my pussy, running it through my soaked folds, over my clit over and over again in a tormenting way.

"Ani.. please. I need you." I started begging at some point, not being able to take his teasing anymore. "Want me to push it in?" he smirked devilish before he only pushed the head inside, already making my eyes roll. God how am I supposed to take all of him? But as soon as he pushed in, he pulled back again. He did the same procedure again and again.

"I can't believe these idiots didn't treat or fuck you right with such a tight little cunt." he breathed out, his chest moving up and down, trying to control himself. "Need you.." I mumbled, my hips shaking slightly.

Then, without a single warning, he pushed in again but this time more than the tip, but all the way to the half of his cock. A loud gasp and moan left my lips, my jaw hanging loose and wide open. "Oh fuck–" "What was that huh? Still need someone older princess?"

His hips moved forward again until his whole length was inside my greedy cunt, my walls pulling him inside. "Fucking hell, you're so damn tight. Already squeezing me empty.." he groaned and started to move his hips back and forth against mine.

I grabbed his back, digging my nails into his skin. "Hold on tight baby." he chuckled before he started to fuck me into the mattress like there was no tomorrow. My eyes widened and my nails dug deeper into his skin, leaving marks all over it and my legs wrapping around his hips to feel him even deeper.

He leaned down and breathed against my lips and touching my forehead with his. "You feel so good.." a moan left his mouth. "Oh fuck Anakin, you're so – fuck yes." I arched my back and pulled on the hair of his neck with one of my hands.

"You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie you up." he taunts right into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

The night was long, it felt like hours and I heard early birds chirping at some point. I laid on my stomach, pillow under my tummy and ass up in the air while he pounded me from behind. His hands were on my throat and on my nipples, playing with them, making me even wetter than before.

"God Ani.. need to cum.." I mumbled tired into the pillow under my face, a whiney tone to it. my eyes rolling back and my bottom lip tugged between my teeth, probably looking like straight from porn. "Aw what, did I fuck you stupid?" he mocked me with a following grunt, the sound of skin slapping filling the air around us.

A whimper left my mouth as an answer and I moved one of my hands down to my clit, rubbing it in circles, desperate to cum. "Want help with that?" he murmured into my ear from behind, his sweaty chest against my sore back. I nodded helpless and let him push my hand away to replace it with his own.

"Please let me come, please." I cried, pushing my ass with the same rhythm against his hips. he squeezed my throat tighter, letting my mind go fuzzy. "Nhhg fuck yes - come around my cock baby, fucking drip down on me like the little slut you are." he groaned into my ear.

I squeezed my eyes shut when the heat inside my tummy became too much and finally exploded. My mouth hung open and a broken cry erupted from my throat. My legs were shaking like crazy, my walls clenching around his throbbing cock.

"Hm fuck yeah, milk me baby.. want me to come inside that pretty pussy? Wanna feel my cum?" I heard it in his voice how close he was and that he was probably holding back right now. "Yes.." I sighed tired but happy which was enough for him to slap my ass hard and let out a quiet whimper, creating goosebumps on my skin from that needy sound.

"God I'm gonna come, I'm - ohh.." he gasped in a deep breath and held still, shooting his load right inside of me, painting my pulsing walls. A sensitive whimper came out of me and I looked back behind me. Anakin's head hung low and his upper body was shaking slightly from his orgasm.

He slowly and carefully pulled out of me, collapsing next to me. His arms wrapped themselves around me and pulled me closer against his chest. "That was wonderful.. such a high." he sighed against my hair. I nuzzled my head against his chest and took a deep breath, smelling his scent. "I should have asked you way sooner.." I giggled quietly, my eyes still closed since they were heavy and burning, seeking for some sleep.

"Hmm.. don't worry. You'll never have to worry about that ever again." he whispered back, pulling my even closer than before.

thank u for reading, it‘s the first time i wrote something for anakin 💓

taglist: @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @beautywine @whyamireadingthis @cardi-bre91 @jordynhartley2001 @meneatervv

masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[inkandapex]

In the Slopes

Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter Summary: Lando and Y/N have always been inseparable, but during a snowy getaway with friends, their usual dynamic starts to shift. Unspoken feelings begin to resurface.

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: some swearing angst & fluff

Winter isn’t exactly Y/N’s favourite season; she’d much rather be lounging under the warm sun, with her feet in the water and sand tangled in her hair. But alas, Quadrant's annual team-building getaway was set in the snowy slopes of Whistler.

"What could you possibly need this for?" Lando pauses his game and turns in his seat as he hears Max hysterically laughing at the whistle he found in Y/N's luggage.

"Give me that! Why are you two even here? Don't you have to pack your own stuff or something" Y/N whines and snatches the whistle from Max, tossing it across her bedroom.

"Max, be nice. It took a lot of grovelling to get her to agree to be in the video, let alone come with us," Lando laughs, turning back around to focus on his game.

"You better not be messing with my sims Lando, I spent hours building that house from scratch" Y/N sighs as she sits on the floor with a pile of clothes in her arms

"I don't know what you're so worried about Y/N, I'm not the best at skiing either. You'll pick it up quick" Max says as he sits on the floor helping her fold the clothes

"Yeah, remember you did so well when we did that karting video. You even ended up liking it more than you thought you would"

"Alright enough pep talk, i'm not used to you muppets acting so nice. Pizza's here. Norris get your ass off my computer and help me fit all of these into my bag" Y/N stands up as she receives a notification on her phone

Lando sits across from Max as Y/N leaves the room. Max watches his friend attempt to tidily fold a shirt before he lets off a scoff.

"What?"

"Please tell me you're finally telling her this week, I can't keep a secret any longer. P is starting to notice"

"Keep you voice down! And what do you mean P's starting to notice" Lando hisses, leaning back to peek out the door checking if Y/n was anywhere within earshot

"Mate, I get so nervous when she asks about you two! The other day, she asked if you two were together, and I just got all weird and defensive, trying to explain why you'd be hanging out together, when she was clearly just asking cause you both played padel that morning and she needed to ask Y/n about a dress" Max explains, almost out of breath, running his hand across his hair

"You're acting like it's so easy for me. Oh, thanks for being such a great friend for the decade I’ve known you, Y/N. By the way, I have feelings for you—no, scratch that—I’m in love with you." Lando chucks the shirt at Max, rolling his eyes as he lies back on the floor.

"That works"

"Shut up.... I just— its y/n, you know? I fuck this up, everything changes. Its not just about me and her"

"Look, I don’t want to get in your head, but I honestly think she might feel the same way. She shows up to races, she’s there for you whenever you need her, shit your family loves her. You're overthinking this, tell her how you feel. That's a good start"

Lando sits up, propping himself on his elbows, a defeated look crossing his face. "Exactly, she might feel the same way... if she doesn’t, it’s gonna get weird. I can't ruin our friendship like that"

"I can meddle"

"No! No meddling! This ski trip is for the team. When I find the courage to tell her, i will"

"More like when you find your balls..."

"Foods here! Come out here, no eating in my bedroom!" Lando kicks Max's leg just in time for Y/N to announce her return, pizza boxes in hand.

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After a long day of skiing and filming, the group made their way back to the cabin just before sunset, just enough time to unwind before dinner. Y/N sank into the plush sofa by the crackling fireplace, the warmth from the flames making her sigh in relief. Wrapped up in a thick, soft blanket, she leaned back, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.

"Wanna grab a little snack before dinner? I saw this cute cafe near by" Pietra plops down beside her, laying her head on her lap

Y/N lets out a groan, putting her phone away "P, please i'm so sore. I honestly think you'd have to drag me by my feet for dinner tonight"

"Oh but you did great today. You should've seen Max his first time on the slopes, it was almost sad." P sits up to give y/n some relief

"Where is he anyways? Go ask him to go to the cafe with you- bring me back a muffin while you're at it"

"He’s with his boyfriend, going over clips from today…" Pietra pauses, crossing her legs and narrowing her eyes at Y/N, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Speaking of my boyfriend’s boyfriend—what’s going on between you and Lando?" She leans forward slightly, her gaze sharp and accusing, as if she’s piecing something together.

This makes y/n frown, confusion spreading across her face "Me and Lando? What do you mean?"

"Come on, Y/N," Pietra says with a playful grin, leaning in as she pokes Y/N’s arm. "Ever since the season ended, you two have been hanging out way more. And didn’t you spend Christmas with his family? Oh, and let’s not forget today! On the slopes, he was literally stuck by your side the entire time—he’s usually off showing off or racing with the guys." She wiggles her eyebrows, clearly enjoying the tease, her gaze never leaving Y/N as if waiting for some kind of confession.

Y/N laughs, giving Pietra a gentle shove. "Did you hit your head out there?" she teases.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Lando and I hang out all the time, it’s just that we’ve had more time recently. Plus, it’s not the first time I’ve spent Christmas with the Norris family." She shrugs casually, then continues, her tone softening slightly as she recalls the day. "And as for today, well, it was my first time skiing, and Lando insisted I join the trip to begin with. I guess he just wanted to make sure someone was there to keep me from falling on my face the whole time." She laughs again, shaking her head, clearly not fazed by the teasing, but her explanation still carries a hint of warmth.

"Huh... I could've sworn you were hiding something. I mean even Max acts all weird whenever I bring the two of you up"

"Max? What? About Lando and I?"

"Yeah, he gets all defensive whenever I bring up the two of you," Pietra says with a shrug, her eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you two finally sucked it up and acted on whatever’s going on between you."

"Whatever's going on?"

"Come on y/n. You clearly have feelings for Lando. You may lie to everyone else but I see through you" Pietra laughs

"I’m— no. Me? Feelings for Lando?" Y/N stutters, her voice faltering as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. She tugs at the edge of her blanket, avoiding Pietra's gaze.

She forces a nervous laugh, but it sounds hollow, the tension in the room thickening. "Yeah, right. No— no, that’s not…" Her sentence fizzles out, her mind racing, but she can’t quite find the right words.

Pietra's jaw drops, her eyes widening in surprise before a sly grin slowly spreads across her face. "Oh my gosh..." she murmurs, her voice rising with the realization. "I was just messing with you, but—" She leans in closer, her smile growing wider as she watches Y/N squirm. "You do have feelings for him!"

Y/N's heart skips a beat, the words hitting her harder than expected. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see it? The weight of it all settles heavily on her, her stomach flipping in a way that both unsettles and excites her. "No, I—" she starts, but her voice is barely a whisper, unsure of what to say next.

"Y/N!" Pietra exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and excitement. "He obviously feels the same way. Why else would Max be acting like that whenever I ask about you two?"

Y/N's stomach tightens, a wave of nervous energy making her insides churn. Could it be? Was it really possible that Lando felt the same way about her? Her heart skips at the thought, but then the doubts creep in, drowning out any sense of hope. No, he couldn’t possibly... Lando was Lando, the guy who was always surrounded by people, always the center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone around him. And she... she was just Y/N. Just a friend.

He only sees me as a friend. The words loop in her mind. Nothing more than that. They’d always been friends, nothing had ever suggested anything different, right? She feels a strange tightness in her throat, as if even acknowledging the possibility of something more would shatter the delicate balance they’d always had.

"Oh, honey, I’m sorry," Pietra says softly, her tone shifting as she notices the distant look in Y/N's eyes.

"I didn’t mean to make it weird," she adds, her voice softening. "But you know, everyone’s been kind of... wondering." Her eyes meet Y/N’s, a mix of empathy and understanding in them, as if offering a lifeline in the middle of the uncertainty.

Y/N lets out a laugh, shaking her head as she looks at Pietra. "You're just saying that to make the voices go away," she teases, trying to deflect, though her tone carries an edge of nervousness.

Pietra grins, unfazed. "No, seriously! A few of the newer people on the team genuinely thought you two were a thing when they first joined Quadrant." She leans back, raising an eyebrow as she watches Y/N's reaction, knowing full well that the thought might have crossed her mind too. The comment lingers, like an unspoken truth that makes the room feel a little smaller.

The sound of footsteps coming from the stairs behind them makes both Y/N and Pietra turn their heads in sync.

"You're not getting ready yet?" Max says, his voice teasing but with a hint of impatience. "Our reservation's in an hour, and we're starving. We can't be late."

He walks down the stairs with Lando trailing just behind him, moving toward the two on the sofa. Max leans down, planting a gentle kiss on Pietra's head as he passes, a small smile tugging at his lips. Lando follows closely, his gaze briefly flickering to Y/N before he glances away, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere shifts again, subtle but charged, as everyone feels the undercurrent of what’s unspoken.

"We might have to drag Y/N by her feet to the restaurant—her words, not mine," Pietra laughs softly, her voice playful as Max sits beside her, pulling her closer for a quick cuddle.

This catches Lando’s attention, and he pushes away from the counter in the kitchen, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he strides across the room toward the couch. He stops just short of them, his eyes narrowing slightly with concern. "Why? What’s wrong? You feeling okay?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine care, though his usual confident swagger seems a little softer.

"No—yeah, I’m okay, just sore, really," Y/N says, her voice a little shaky as she forces a smile at Lando. "I’ll be fine. P, we should get ready."

She stands up quickly, giving Lando a brief but reassuring smile before turning towards the stairs. As Y/N begins to head up, Pietra stands too, shooting Max a knowing look that doesn’t go unnoticed. Max raises an eyebrow, but Pietra simply follows Y/N up the stairs.

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

Dinner went by smoothly, the lively chatter and laughter around the table giving Y/N the perfect distraction from the lingering thoughts she’d been trying to push away. Lando’s presence felt comforting, like a steady anchor, though she couldn’t help but notice the occasional glance he threw her way—just enough to keep the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but not enough to make her feel overwhelmed. For now, she was content to enjoy the evening, letting the connection with her friends fill the space that her doubts had briefly occupied.

Y/N lies on her bed, the soft glow from her phone casts a faint light across the room, but her mind is still tangled in the conversation earlier. She barely notices the time passing until a soft knock at her door pulls her attention away.

She sits up quickly, smoothing her hair back, and calls out, "Come in."

Lando slips into her room quietly, a bottle of water in his hands. He stands at the foot of the bed "Hey, sorry, were you about to sleep?" he asks, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of concern.

"No, you're good," Y/N replies with a small laugh "Just on my phone... struggling to sleep, honestly." She smiles up at him, her eyes warm as she pats the space beside her. "What's up?"

Lando hesitates for just a moment, he crosses the room and sits down, the familiar weight of his presence settling next to her. He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a small pill bottle, offering it to her along with the water bottle.

"Painkillers," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying kindness. "Thought you could use some if you want to be able to hit the slopes again tomorrow. We’re doing the sled race, remember?"

Y/N lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she takes the pill from him, followed by a sip of water. "Thank you," she says, her voice soft. "I can’t believe I forgot to pack some."

Lando waves it off with a small grin. "All good," he says, his eyes meeting hers briefly. "Take one tomorrow before we head out too if you're still hurting."

She nods, feeling the knot in her shoulders start to loosen. The warmth of his presence is more comforting than she expected, and for a moment, the weight of everything else melts away.

"Do you fancy an ice cream?" Lando asks, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face as he nudges Y/N gently with his elbow.

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, laughter bubbling up in her chest. "Ice cream? It’s almost midnight— and, uhmm... oh right, it's freezing outside," she says, her voice light with amusement. She shakes her head, grinning at his antics, but the playful glint in his eyes makes it clear he’s not giving up on the idea so easily.

Lando shrugs dramatically, the smirk never leaving his face. "Who says you can’t have ice cream in the middle of the night?" he teases, nudging her again as if trying to convince her to join his impromptu late-night mission.

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

The two walk back to the cabin, their laughter echoing in the crisp night air as they reminisce about the day’s adventures. Every so often, their arms gently brush against each other, the shared warmth a quiet comfort between them.

"Aren’t you glad I made you come up here?" Lando says, a playful gleam in his eye. "Next year, you could even try snowboarding" He wiggles his brows at Y/N, his voice teasing as if he’s already picturing her falling all over again.

Y/N groans dramatically, her breath visible in the cold night. "Can't we just go to the beach or somewhere warm that doesn’t require me to fight for my life and fall on my ass every couple of meters?" She stops walking, planting her feet firmly in protest, her face scrunched in exaggerated annoyance.

Lando laughs, his eyes twinkling as he glances at her. "Come on, you big baby," he teases, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently toward the cabin. "Let’s get inside. Your nose is so red."

Y/N huffs but lets him pull her along, the warmth of his hand in hers making her forget the cold. She can’t help but smile, even if she’d never admit how much she enjoyed their little banter.

They stand just outside Y/N's door, Y/N looks up at him with a playful smirk, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. "Thank you for tonight," she says with a hint of warmth in her voice. "Though if I wake up with a cold tomorrow, I’m blaming you and your ice cream escapade."

Lando chuckles, his eyes softening as he leans against the doorframe, his smile lazy but genuine. "I’ll be sure to nurse you back to health," he says, his voice low and easy, but with an undertone of sincerity. "I’ll be across the hall if you need me."

For a moment, neither of them speaks. Silence hangs in the air, a tension growing, subtle but undeniable. Their eyes meet and linger, flicking back and forth between each other's lips, the space between them feeling smaller with every passing second.

Lando’s breath catches slightly as he notices the way her lips part just a fraction, and Y/N, almost without realizing, shifts a little closer, the energy between them thickening.

Y/N takes a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket as she glances at Lando. “Lando... I— I’ve been thinking about us—” Her voice is quieter than she meant it to be.

Lando’s eyes widen in a split-second of panic, and he quickly cuts her off, almost too quickly. “Us? About us?” His tone is a little too sharp, his expression tight, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Y/N freezes, but then gathers her thoughts, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “Yes, our relationship—” She bites her lip, her heart pounding in her chest as she takes a step forward.

Lando blinks rapidly, trying to process her words. “—our relationship?” His voice cracks slightly, and his gaze shifts to the floor before quickly snapping back to hers.

Y/N nods, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “Yes, well, no, I mean, our relationship as friends, of course!” She laughs nervously, her voice trailing off, trying to downplay the growing knot in her stomach.

Lando lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah, of course... uhmm, what about it?”

Y/N’s heart sinks a little, but she tries to push through the discomfort. “I just… I don’t know, Lando. I’ve been wondering if maybe we’re both feeling the same thing, you know? About... more than just friendship?” Her voice falters at the end, uncertainty creeping in.

Lando’s face flushes slightly, and he takes a step back, a defensive edge to his tone. “Oh well I mean, yeah we’re good friends, right? Best friends even, you and Max.” He says it quickly, almost too quickly, his words stumbling over themselves as if he's trying to convince himself just as much as her.

The silence that follows feels like an eternity. Y/N looks away, her stomach sinking, the words she was about to say hanging heavy in the air between them. She clears her throat, trying to force a smile, but it feels like it’s made of glass, fragile and thin. “Right,” she says softly, her voice almost too quiet. “I get it.”

Lando stands there for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between relief and regret. He can feel the weight of the situation, but he’s not sure what to say next. He couldn't bring himself to tell her how he really felt. "You... feel that way right? I mean you see me as your best friend?" he says quickly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but stopping short when he realizes how awkward it feels. "Maybe even your bestest friend, even over Max or P" Lando lets out a nervous chuckle in the attempt to ease the uneasiness filling the air.

Y/N nods, her eyes not meeting his. “Yeah, of course. Max isn't even top 3. Hey, I’m gonna head in and get some rest.” y/n attempts to return the banter as she turns slightly, her hand already on the doorknob, her pulse still racing from the conversation.

She pauses at the door, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Goodnight, Lando," she says softly before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Lando stands there for a moment, his hand still lingering in the air, unsure of whether he should follow her or just walk away. After a few moments, he sighs, shaking his head as he walks back toward his own room, the unspoken tension lingering in the silence of the hallway.

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

Lando laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, the thoughts of the conversation with Y/N replaying over and over in his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling of regret, the missed opportunity to tell her how he really felt. Every time he closed his eyes, her face kept coming back to him, the look in her eyes that made him realize he might have just ruined everything by not saying what he’d wanted to say.

The sun was barely up when Lando found himself standing in the hallway, his heart racing as he made his way to Max and P's room.

"Max, you've got to get up, mate," Lando whispered urgently, his voice low but insistent, shaking Max awake.

Max let out a groan, his eyes barely open as he tried to make out his friend’s figure in the dim light of the room, the sun just starting to peek through the closed curtains. "What? Lando. What time is it?" His voice was thick with sleep.

"It’s... it’s early, I know. But I need to talk. I can’t stop thinking about it, mate. I messed up."

Max rubbed his eyes, finally managing to sit up, his confusion turning into concern. "Wait, what happened?" He yawned and stretched, still groggy but fully aware that Lando was rarely this urgent unless something serious was going on.

Lando ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little as he tried to find the words. "I didn’t tell her how I really feel, Max. And now I’m just stuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. I— I think I might’ve blown it." His voice was strained, frustration seeping through every word.

Max sat up straighter now, fully awake as he processed his friend's words. “Wait you’re talking about Y/N, right?” He rubbed his face, trying to make sense of Lando’s sudden shift in mood.

Lando paused, looking at Max, his face tight with the weight of everything. “She brought it up, she asked about us- our friendship and I just froze. I panicked, Max. I said I think she's my best friend, my closest friend and if you could've seen the look on her face... now I don’t know what to do. It’s messing with me."

"You idiot" a sharp toned voice makes the two look to the other side of the bed, a once sleeping P has now pulled her eye mask off, a dissatisfied look on her face. "She obviously likes you too Lando. You two are just too scared of actually facing how you truly feel. I literally had her confess to me last night before dinner"

Lando blinked in surprise, the realization hitting him harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Max, on the other hand, sat back with an amused expression, taking in the scene unfolding before him.

"Wait—what?" Lando managed after a beat, completely caught off guard.

Max let out a heavy sigh, his tone softening. "Lando, you’ve been dodging it for how long now? What did you expect? That she’d just magically figure it out? You’ve got to be honest with her, mate. If you really feel something for her, you can’t just pretend it’s nothing. You owe her the truth".

Lando nodded, taking in his friend’s words. "Yeah, you're right. I just... don’t want to mess things up more than I already have."

Max shook his head, a knowing look on his face. “You’ve got to take the chance, mate. Just... talk to her. Don’t wait any longer. I can't even begin to think about whats going on in her head right now- you pretty much shut her down”

Lando sat back down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn't believe me— I don't want her to think i'm playing with her feelings on purpose, it was a genuine lapse of judgement I panicked.”

"Well, that’s the risk, isn’t it?" Max replied, his voice matter-of-fact. "But at least you’ll know for sure. The worst thing you can do is keep holding back. You’re already in deep, mate. Just go for it."

Lando sat silently for a moment, taking in Max’s advice, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety swirling inside him. He knew Max was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. With a long sigh, he stood up from the bed, a new sense of determination in his steps.

“Alright,” Lando said, giving Max a look of appreciation.

Max gave him a reassuring nod. "Just don’t overthink it."

Lando nodded, heading for the door. Before he left, he turned back to P speaking up as she put her eye mask back on. “You know, if it goes horribly wrong, I’m gonna kick your ass for hurting her.”

Max chuckled, leaning back into the pillows. “Yeah, i'd take that as motivation to fix this. Go get her, Lando.”

As Lando walked down the hallway, his mind was set. He couldn’t let another day go by without telling Y/N how he felt. It was now or never.

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

Lando had been pacing around the kitchen for what felt like hours, trying to gather his thoughts. Max and P walk towards him, the nervous energy was starting to crawl back under his skin.

"Have you guys seen—" he started, but P immediately cut him off, her tone firm yet surprisingly quiet.

"What did you do?" she asked, a knowing look in her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I thought you left our room this morning ready to fix things between the two of you."

Lando's mouth went dry, his words caught in his throat. He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like he was fifteen again and in trouble with his parents. "I tried, I peeked in her room and she was sleeping and I felt bad i didn't want to wake her. I came back a few hours later she wasn't in her room" His voice was a little shaky, and his hands fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket as he tried to avoid their eyes.

P raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "So you didn’t do it? That's why she won't leave her room" crossing her arms even tighter, clearly not buying his half-hearted excuse. "You’re seriously going to stand there and tell me you didn’t even try again?"

Lando swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling in. "I... I didn't know she was back. I don't even know where she went this morning— wait she won't leave her room?"

"She said she's feeling sick and that she caught a cold but she's clearly been crying. Lando she won't even tell me about what happened last night, she's hurting"

Max, who had been listening quietly. "Mate, you’re a mess," he said, sitting down on the counter with his arms crossed, his tone matter-of-fact. "You’ve been overthinking this for months now. It’s honestly exhausting. Now you've managed to drag her into this mess."

Lando exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration clear.

Max gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, you’re already screwing it up by not talking to her. Go up there and fix it"

P stepped forward, her voice a little gentler now, but still firm. "Just go talk to her. Tell her exactly how you feel. You’ll either get your answer, or you won’t. But you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s going on."

With a deep breath, he nodded. "I’ll go talk to her. Try to occupy the rest of the team while we're gone" He straightened up, trying to shake off the nervousness that had settled in his stomach like a knot.

Max smiled, though there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. And Lando?" he called as he started to head for the door.

"Yeah?" he turned back, his mind already racing with what to say to her.

"Don’t come back until you’ve told her. And if you screw it up, you’re buying us dinner for a week" Max said with a wink.

Lando shot him a look, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "I’ll keep that in mind," he muttered, and with one final deep breath, he turned to head toward Y/N’s room.

This time, there was no turning back.

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

Another knock echoes through the room, causing Y/N to stir in her blanket cocoon. She sniffles and clears her throat, trying to hide the evidence of a long night’s worth of tears.

"P, I told you I’ll be fine. I don’t want anyone catching my cold. You guys go have fun," she calls out, her voice thick with exhaustion.

"It’s me," Lando’s voice filters through the door, catching Y/N off guard. She sits up quickly, her heart racing—what on earth could he want now?

Y/N hurriedly wipes at her face, but the mirror doesn’t lie. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks streaked with dried tears, and her nose is a fiery red. She exhales in defeat.

With a soft groan, she cracks the door open "I already told Max and P I won’t be joining you guys," she says quietly, her voice heavy with guilt. "I’m really sorry, Lando. You should go... Everyone else is probably waiting."

Lando’s gaze softens, his brow furrowing as he steps closer, his tone gentle but knowing. "You’re upset about last night."

"I don’t know why I said what I said, but that’s not how I really feel," Lando insists, his voice laced with frustration, but the sight of the frown etched on Y/N’s face only deepens his anxiety.

Y/N’s gaze drops to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper, soft and tinged with hurt. "She told you, didn’t she?" The words feel like a weight she can’t shake off. She never imagined P would share something so personal, and now, she feels more exposed than ever.

Lando hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, well… technically, she overheard me talking to Max about last night and—"

"You told Max about last night?" Y/N interrupts. She lifts her gaze, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What, me trying to confess my feelings for you and you immediately dismissing it wasn’t embarrassing enough? You had to go tell Max?"

“Y/N, no! That’s not what I—" Lando stammers. He takes a breath, gathering his courage. "I like you. I’ve liked you for months now. Max was the only person I’ve told.” The confession spills out before he can stop it, and for the first time, a sense of relief washes over him.

Y/N’s expression falters, a deep frown settling on her face as she tries to process his words. "Don't do that... please," she says softly, almost pleading. Her voice cracks slightly as she shakes her head. "You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about this." She struggles to fully comprehend what he’s just said.

"But I'm not lying!" Lando insists, his voice filled with urgency. His hands shake as he tries to convey the truth, the weight of his feelings finally spilling out. "For months, I’ve been debating whether or not to act on it. I didn’t know if you felt the same way... I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t." He reaches out, his hand trembling as he gently tries to take hers, hoping for a sign that she might believe him.

Y/N is still caught in the confusion of it all, but as his hand brushes against hers, something settles in her chest. The warmth of his touch brings a surprising sense of comfort, and she swallows back the confusion that’s been choking her. "But... last night?" she asks quietly, her voice shaky.

Lando’s eyes soften, and he looks down, clearly conflicted. "I panicked," he admits, his words coming out in a rush. "You bringing up how we might feel about each other was the last thing on my mind. Fuck, I didn’t even think it was possible. All the scenarios I made in my head were about how I’d finally tell you... how much I wanted to be with you." He looks up at her then, vulnerable and raw, his expression filled with regret. "I was just so scared you wouldn’t feel the same."

Y/N takes a deep breath, her chest tight with emotion. She finally meets Lando's gaze, and the moment their eyes lock, it’s as if time slows. The words that have been tangled in her mind for so long finally slip free, and she whispers, "I do... feel the same way."

A small, almost hesitant smile begins to form on Lando’s face. It’s the kind of smile that tells her he’s been holding his breath, waiting for this moment, unsure if he’d ever hear the words he desperately needed to hear. His eyes soften as he takes a step closer, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s falling into place.

Lando’s hands gently cup her face, his touch tender and careful, as if she’s something precious he’s afraid of breaking. His thumbs lightly brush against her cheeks before he reaches up to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. He lets his fingers linger there for a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch, before his hand gently rests on the side of her neck.

There’s a quiet intensity in the air now, a shared understanding that neither of them wants to break.

Lando’s smile widens ever so slightly, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a way that sends a warm shiver down her spine. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that," he says softly, his voice still tinged with disbelief, as though he can’t quite believe this is happening.

Lando leans in, his forehead gently resting against hers, as if allowing the moment to sink in. There’s no rush, no need to fill the space with words anymore. All that’s left is the feeling between them—a feeling that says more than words ever could.

Lando’s breath catches as he hovers just inches from her face, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmurs, “I’m going to kiss you now.” his breath warm against her skin.

Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smirk, her eyes glinting with a mix of playfulness and something deeper. “About time,” she teases, her voice light, but there's a knowing edge to it. “For an F1 driver, you're quite slow.”

Lando’s eyes flash with amusement, a soft laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “You’re lucky I really like you,” he responds, his voice warm with affection and the lingering hint of a smile. Before she can say another word, he closes the gap between them, his lips brushing gently against hers.

The kiss is slow at first, a gentle exploration, as if both of them are savouring the moment that’s been so long in the making. Lando’s hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her a little closer as the kiss deepens, a surge of relief and longing finally being released between them. For all the uncertainty, the teasing, the games—they’re here now, and everything else fades away.