#i like it when we keep it around twice a week tbh because any more than that and i start to get really sore LMAO

[inkykeiji]

omg i hope this isn’t a weird question but how often do you have sex? i’m usually good with like 2 days a week but then i feel like most people do it more than that lol

(it’s not a weird question! i’ve been asked this before hehe) honestly it depends on the week!!! i’d say like, on average 2-3 times a week. it usually depends on how horny one of us is, how low my cervix is (if it’s too low i get really bruised up and it makes sex incredibly painful), how much energy we have, etc.. there are weeks where we’ll have sex like 5 times but it’s also important to note that we have sex twice in one day fairly regularly, too. usually if we’ve fucked once the chances of us fucking again the same day are like, waaay higher ahahaha. i’d actually say 2 days a week is more than most people anon!!! we looked it up once, like on average how often do couples tend to have sex and for the majority of people it was waaay less than twice a week

case in point: do what is best and what works best for YOU anon bb <3 if two times is enough then two times is enough and that’s totally fine!!

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

choi soobin x afab!reader

summary: After you found out the smarty-pants in your class was in love with you you thought it would be fun to play around with him a bit, but things take a wrong turn when he is the only one you can text when you are horny and he doesn't hesitate and runs to you, making you feel better than any of your ex boyfriends could.

words count: 3.9k

warnings: smut content, she/her pronouns used twice (in the texting part) sorry 🙏, oral, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't!!), cum eating, gentle sex, squiting, idk tbh

You glanced to your side, watching the black-haired boy on the other side of the classroom as he wrote down some notes. If you were to be honest, you weren’t paying any attention to what the teacher was saying, so you had no idea what he was writing down either. But it didn't matter anyway, you knew he would let you copy his notes later. 

It was one of the perks of having the class’s smarty-pants be in love with you. You chuckled when you saw him look your way too, smiling at him before you turned away again. 

“What's going on there?” The black-haired girl next to you asked, her eyebrow raised as she pointed at the male on the other side of the class. “Why do you two keep stealing glances at each other?” 

“You know Yeonjun, right?” You asked, watching as the girl next to you nodded. “Who doesn't,” your best friend scoffed. “What does he have to do with anything?” 

“Well, he is the one that told me last week our little nerdy here has a crush on me. It all makes sense now if you think about it. I couldn't wrap my head around why he would always send me the lesson notes when I asked for them but not to others. I told Ryan he could ask Soob because I thought he wouldn't have any problems with it, but it turns out he only sent them to me to get me to like him, or something,” You explained, watching as your best friend laughed quietly. 

“It's kind of cute though that he does that.” 

“But I don't want ‘cute’ anymore,” you rolled your eyes. “I want someone who can actually make me cum and not just stare at me questioning why I wouldn't finish as if he even tried.” 

“Okay, I know the last boy was a fail as fuck, literally, but who knows,” the black-haired girl shrugged. “You want to tell me you think he of all people could make me cum?” You scoffed. “Please, he probably hasn't fucked a girl in his life.” 

You said that, but God, you had no idea what was coming your way. 

“Who are we gossiping about?” You turned as you heard the male’s voice, scoffing at how needy he was for the tea. “No one,” you shook your head. “Your rival,” your best friend grinned, answering instead when you didn’t do so. The blond boy scoffed, looking at the black-haired boy. “Oh yeah, I am so sure he didn’t fuck a girl - or anyone else - in his life,” he agreed. 

“I am pretty sure I’ve been with a girl more times than he has,” Ryan next to him nodded, joining their conversation. “Kinda crazy,” you commented, laughing. Before you could say anything else, you were stopped by the teacher hitting the board with his hand, making you look his way. “As I was saying,” he started his speech again, giving you a warning look before he turned around, facing the board again so he could write down a few things. 

Your head fell on the table soon after out of boredom, and before you could even start paying attention to what the teacher was talking about, the bell rang, announcing the end of the lesson. 

“Okay, guys, who is coming with me to grab lunch?” Your best friend turned towards you and the two boys behind you. “I am passing,” you mumbled immediately, not even fully sitting up and simply turning your head towards her. “I am going,” Ryan proclaimed, already standing up from his place, the blond following him right after. 

“Okay, I see you guys later, then,” you smiled at them, waving them off as they left the classroom. You knew you should get up too and move to your next class, but you were starting to feel unwell, and the thought of getting up sounded terrible. You sighed, closing your eyes for a few seconds. You knew this classroom was empty for another hour or so anyway. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You opened your eyes again upon hearing the soft voice and feeling the tap on your shoulder, blinking a few times to make your eyes focus again. “Mhm, sure I am,” you mumbled, sitting up straight as you looked around. The class was empty by now, only the two of you were left there. “Why? Were you worried about me?” You chuckled, teasing him. Suddenly, it was as if your headache completely disappeared when you saw the nervous look on his face. “Relax, I am joking,” you shook your head, but couldn’t hide your smile. 

“I don’t want to annoy you,” you started, slowly packing your stuff as he stood beside you, waiting like a puppy. “But do you think you could give me today’s notes, Soob?” 

“You-” he gulped, trying to ignore the nickname. There was simply something about you calling him Soob. “I don’t want it for free though. You could consider it as me owing you one and helping you when you’d need it?” You suggested as you stood up, grabbing your now packed bag. “Uhm, sure,” he nodded, not even paying full attention to what you were saying. 

“I’ll text you tonight about the notes then,” you beamed happily, looking like a completely different person as you placed your hand on his arm as a sign of thank you. You were devastated minutes ago, but whoever would see you now wouldn’t believe him if he told them so. Soobin wasn’t sure why, but he was glad you looked fine again. 

Soobin threw his bag on the side of his room, jumping into his bed immediately after the long day. He laid down on his back, simply staring at the ceiling of his room. He reached into his pocket for his phone, seeing two unread messages from his best friend. He opened his phone, staring at the two texts. “Look at Instagram” “Thank me later” There wasn’t much for him to question. Even though to many it might seem confusing, he knew exactly whose Instagram he should check. There was only one person that the two of them talked about together after all. 

The black-haired male clicked on the icon, waiting for the story to load for a second. Then his eyes widened at the sight. It was a picture of you, but not just any picture. He sat up immediately, looking properly at your body. You were wearing a white top, cropped slightly above your waist. He couldn’t help but notice you weren't wearing a bra underneath, your nipples showing through the fabric. Then he saw the black miniskirt, that you definitely pulled higher than you should. He gulped, remembering how you touched his arm earlier today, your fingers brushing on his skin as your hair fell in front of your face. 

He whined silently as he felt his boxers becoming tighter the more he stared at the picture, your body curves exposed for anyone to see. He shared the story with Yeonjun, his best friend, and immediately texted him how good you looked. 

Only, did he not know it wasn’t Yeonjun he shared the story to.  

Soobin stared at the messages, screaming as he turned his phone off faster than ever before. He couldn’t believe it. He just told you he needed you. There wasn’t anything worse that could be happening at the moment. Not to mention the image of your body was still stuck in his head, making him hard. 

He stared at the messages again, his heart fighting with his brain at that moment. He didn’t want to make you do anything, he felt like it would be too forced, even though you were the one suggesting it. But a part of him knew this was his only chance. There was no way he could get you differently. He knew about your dating history, so he also knew you had never been with anyone like him. It was always the boys like Yeonjun, who just understood how to talk to girls properly, how to make them fall for them. But he wasn’t like that, he had no idea what he was doing. 

And just like that, he was in front of your place, rethinking his decisions as he knocked on the front door, trying his best to ignore the boner in his pants that still hadn’t gone down. How could it be when you shared a picture like that with him?

“You came,” you mumbled as you opened the door, looking up at him. Soobin looked down on you, noticing the same top you had in the Instagram picture. He gulped, his eyes then falling on the bottom part of your body and the white panties that were the only thing you were wearing. “How could I not?” He whispered, making sure this picture would stay in his mind. 

You grabbed his hand as you took him inside, closing the door behind you immediately. It was only now that you noticed how big his hands were against yours. You just hoped he could use them too. 

Soobin blindly followed you to your bedroom, his mind full of thoughts about how he should go about this, while his eyes were stuck on your ass, unable to look away as you walked in front of him. 

“Can I-” he started as his eyes followed you while you sat on your bed. “You can do absolutely anything, Soob,” you interrupted him, watching as his face turned red. “Soob? Soobie?” You smirked, noticing what the nicknames did to him. “Is that what turns you on?” 

“Everything about you turns me on,” he admitted, slowly getting closer to you while you moved back, not taking your eyes off him. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. You simply bit your bottom lip as you found him above yourself, holding eye contact. This was becoming more intimate than you thought it would. 

“Is it okay for me to kiss you?” He wanted to assure himself one more time. You thought about it for a second, not wanting to give him any hope, but also desperately needing his lips on yours. You nodded to him in the end, grabbing the collar of his shirt and bringing him closer to yourself, pressing your lips on his, your mouth slightly opened which only made it easier for him. 

His right hand found its way to your boob, carefully sliding under your top, his cold fingers brushing over your nipple. You groaned into the kiss, clenching around nothing but thin air. It felt pathetic. He had barely touched you and you were already getting wet. 

Soobin left your mouth for a second, getting a disagreeing whine immediately that made him smile as he started placing wet kisses all over your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone and then between your boobs. Your lips parted as you breathed out from the pleasure, raising your head to look at him. “Mhm, take it off,” you whispered, your hand reaching for his sleeve. He didn’t hesitate for a second and listened to you, taking his shirt off while you took down your own, exposing your breast to him completely. 

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, feeling more and more uncomfortable in his sweatpants. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at your body one more time before his lips found their way to your breast again, his hand cupping one of them as he pressed kisses on your other boob, his tongue making wet circles around your nipple. 

“Fuck,” it was you groaning this time, quiet moans escaping your lips as your nipples became hard at his touch. “Soob, please,” you whined, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Please, what? Hm?” He asked, not even looking up and just continuing what he had been doing until now, his lips moving down again, leaving wet traces on your stomach now as his hands found their way to your waist. “I don’t know. Just- fuck,” you moaned out again when you felt his lips on your clit through your panties. 

“Just?” He asked again, looking up at you. You could swear you had never seen anything better in your life. The male was in between your legs, his breath landing right on your clit as he looked at you, absolute need in his eyes. 

“Just fuck me already,” you begged, watching as he took down your panties, his eyes fixated on your already leaking pussy. “I don’t think so,” he informed you, moving up again so he would face you. “I doubt you could take it just like that,” he whispered, moving his fingers to your lips. You didn’t need to hear anything else and immediately opened your mouth, sucking on his fingers. 

Before you could even register his actions you felt him slowly inserting his two fingers into you, carefully watching you. He did so to make sure he was doing everything right. You weren't completely wrong when you said he probably hasn’t been with a girl in his life. He couldn’t say he would have much experience, but all of his friends were sex addicts - and now he could finally see why - and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut every time the topic came up, so it was only natural for Soobin to catch on to a few things. 

You gasped, your eyes rolling back. You knew there was an obvious difference in your hand sizes but god, his fingers were bigger than you thought. “Fuck, curl them now,” you commanded, not daring to look down. He did as you said, feeling his precum on his boxers. He wanted nothing more but to fuck you right then and there, but he knew he had to wait. 

It didn’t take much longer for you to squirt on his fingers, especially after he added pressure to your clit too, his thumb making slow circles around while his fingers were stretching your inside. 

“Can I eat you out, please?” He asked, looking up at you again, his thumb still rubbing your clit slowly. “Please, y/n,” he begged, making you go crazy. You weren't sure if it was the way he begged you, the way he said your name, or because of his breath on your skin, but you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. “God, please do,” you whined out and just like that, his tongue was pressed on your pussy right away, not wasting any second of the time he had with you. 

It had been months since you had cummed thanks to a boy, so you didn’t have any expectations for him when you invited him over. But you were wrong when you thought no boys knew how to take care of their girls anymore because he did exactly what he should, making you cum on his tongue a few minutes after he went down on you, not leaving your trembling cunt even then, letting you ride out your orgasm as his nose was pressed on your clit, his tongue carefully licking every last bit of your cum. 

“Soob,” you groaned, pulling his hair, making him finally raise his head and look at you. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbled, going up again to kiss you. “And delicious,” he informed you, pressing his lips on yours. “Fuck, Soob, you’re too good,” you mumbled before you kissed him again, slowly sitting up. “Come closer,” you said, grabbing the hem of his pants, and pulling him closer at the same time. 

He groaned, his eyes shut tight, his lips unable to stay away from yours. You smirked into the kiss, your hand grabbing his trembling cock over his pants, making him moan. “I don’t usually do this but…” you started, breaking your kiss so you could look at his body properly. “You were so good earlier,” you praised him, not breaking your eye contact as you changed your position so you would be kneeling. “Pants off, baby,” 

That alone was enough to make him go crazy. You calling him baby just did something with his head. And with his dick. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out when you finally pulled down Soobin’s pants and boxers, your pussy clenching around nothing again. You knew he would be bigger because of his height, but this was more than you had expected. 

He cupped your cheeks, making you look up at him. “Are you sure?” You chuckled, simply nodding. “I can take good care of you too, you know,” you proclaimed, looking up at him as your right hand wrapped around his cock, not breaking your eye contact. You knew it must have been making him go insane. 

You started slowly, simply kissing his tip and licking off his precum. Then, you decided to try to take his full length into your mouth, but stopped shortly after getting to his half, already feeling like you were going to gag any second. There was no way you could do this. 

However, Soobin saw it differently. To him, it looked like you were playing with him, moving slowly and carefully on purpose to tease him. His hand found its way to your head, carefully tugging the hair that was getting in front of your face behind your ears before he held your chin up, making you look at him, his dick still in your mouth. “Think you can go faster, pretty? Please,” He asked, hoping maybe begging would help him. 

He groaned when he felt you suck harder, trying to go faster too but failing miserably. He chuckled at the sight, his hand in your hair so he could control the speed himself. “If you want to stop, just punch me, or something, okay? Try not to bite my dick off if you can’t take it anymore, though,” he told you, and before you could even look up at him again and question what he was talking about, he was moving with your head on his own as if you were just a toy to fulfill his needs. If you were honest, you were glad he did so. It was turning you on more. 

“Fuck, just a bit more,” he moaned out, thrusting his hips into your mouth as you sucked on him. He didn’t dare to look at you just yet, he felt like he would stop if he saw you in the moment, scared he might have been hurting you by determining his speed. 

When Soobin finally looked at you there were tears in your eyes, and his cum was all over your mouth. He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. “Sorry,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, high on all the pleasure you felt until now thanks to him. God, you knew you needed to do this more often from now on. You licked the corner of your mouth, making sure not a single drop was wasted. 

“You’re not done yet, are you?” You asked, your puppy eyes almost making him cum again right away. “Fuck, no I am not,” he answered, leaning down to you to kiss you again. 

Soon after, Soobin found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, his back pressed against the white walls while you sat on him, your head on his shoulder, biting into his skin so you wouldn’t get too loud as he fucked you. Holding your ass, he was helping you remain at the same speed, moaning along with you. “So close, Soob,” you cried out. “Hold in a bit more,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he felt himself getting closer to finishing again, too. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, a mixture of your own and Soobin’s cum leaking from your pussy. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks completely red as you looked into his eyes, still sitting on his cock. “Soob, this was the best sex I’ve ever had. God, you were so good.” He bit onto his bottom lip, watching your fucked out face. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, even more embarrassed than you were. “Does that mean you’ll let me fuck you again next time?” 

“Soob…” you mumbled, just watching him for a second before you carefully got off him. He just shook his head before you could say anything else. “I know, I know, don’t worry,” he muttered. “I still needed to try it,” he smiled awkwardly, his dimples being the cutest thing you had ever seen. “Let me help you clean yourself up before I leave. It's the least I can do,” He suggested. You nodded to him, convinced this was the last time you were together like this. You couldn't be more wrong though. 

You knew you couldn’t stay away from him for too long when he helped you to get into your bathroom and his fingers found their way to your clit again, making you melt at his touch. Even worse was when he carried you to your bed after he switched your bedsheet for you, asking you to let him eat you out one more time before he would leave you alone for good. 

You just couldn’t let him get away. 

“Fuck, Soob,” you mumbled, sitting on the edge of your bed, watching him kneeling in front of you, begging to feel your cum on his tongue again. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” His innocent eyes looked up at you, his hands rubbing your thighs. You sighed, “Just stay here.” 

You could swear you saw sparks in his eyes as the words left your mouth. “Really? Can I?” 

You nodded, agreeing. “Sleep here tonight, I’ll let you eat me out again next time.” 

Soobin smiled proudly, his hands squeezing your thighs. “Only next time?” 

“God, just come here,” you proclaimed, pulling him up from the floor into a warm kiss, feeling his hands roaming on your body again. The night was still nowhere to be done.

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

[kiefbowl]

I know you're probably sick of hearing about amazon in general but I just want to mention that their impact on the environment is truly worst than most people think. I work somewhere that process Amazon returns and it makes me genuinely disgusted at some people's consumerism. I'm talking about people bringing back litteral dozens of amazon parcels on a weekly basis. Clearly they had no intention of keeping those things, they just love getting a new package and opening it. It's not a rare behavior either. The return process uses a ton of fuel (much more than if they were juste returning something to their local store) and just as much plastic (seriously, I know it doesn't look like that much but I tried to imagine how much tape was used on a daily basis just for amazon returns and it made me sick to my stomach. And that's just the tape...). Anyway, I'm venting at this point but you're 1000% correct, amazon is trash and I don't trust anyone selfish enough to defend it.

yeah :( part of the problem is that "hauls" are now a type of online content. people buy stuff to open it on camera to their followers with no real intention of keeping any of it. it's an indefensible way to behave tbh. someone buying a couple of cheapo pants off shein a couple times of year isn't great but it's better than buying stuff every week so you have boxes to open on camera. you can't act that way and call yourself radical or leftist or marxist or whatever left leaning words people want to use as identity markers. like we can't get around buying stuff sometimes and I don't want to live in a world where nothing exists, even fun frivolous stuff - but the fact that so many people act like "well if I want something what exactly can I do besides buy it??" as some sort of defense to buying things when...you could literally want less and maybe explore why you constantly want things and maybe realize you are being manipulated by marketing. if you use your airfryer every day and plan on keeping it clean and working for 10 years, that's awesome. if you bought it because you saw 17 reels online about it being cool and only used it twice, you could have kept your money and done a little elbow grease (barely) to go look up how to cook those things with the stove and oven you have. if you feel like you need to avoid repeating outfits all month, maybe think about who actually benefits from you thinking like that. so if you see yourself as so left you're off the spectrum, you really should be trying the best you can to buy less and optimize more. and as a hint, like you say, if you're returning stuff constantly, you're not doing so hot. imo ;)

[justanotherpersontryingtomakeit]

I just keep saying “ it just doesn’t feel like the holidays” and like it’s true… but like i cannot deny that I just don’t feel the holiday spirit… i haven’t done any of the normal things i look forward to during the holidays or the traditions…

We always decorated the tree together jamming out to Disney… this year we didn’t… mom decorated it by her self… we blame it on the fact we needed a small tree together put on the table because of the puppy… would it feel like normal if we had a normal tree?

I would organize the presents meticulously… like daily… every time I passed by the tree… it was compulsion… I only checked the presents twice…. This year…. It is just because of the tree situation… nothing would have stoped me before from organizing and turning into a little kid… now I didn’t even want to look at them… like it is so noticeable that I feel like I need to do it as soon as I’m up tomorrow to keep up appearances…

At the family Christmas party the first thing you would do would be to tell nana that they need to be over early in the morning so we can open gifts…. Tonight I basically said idc multiple times…

I used to be so excited to open my one gift on Christmas eve,… tonight I basically ran away from it… and the worst part is that dad is the one who brought it up… and brought up how much I used to insist on it….

Part of me is terrified to think that person who used to still turn into a child around Christmas time is gone…. Died with the rest of me when he did what he did… I know that sounds dramatic as F but like it’s true… I keep avoiding the thought of what’s so different this year… why I’m so different this year…. It’s not like nobody else has noticed it…. But they are keeping it to them selves for now… which means unfortunately some time this week or when mom and I go back to clean the house out she’s going to bring it up… and like yes I do want to talk about it… just not with her…. Tbh idk who I want to talk about it with… I just want someone anyone other than my parents to reach out and be like hey… how are you doing honestly… but like I don’t have any real reason why this holiday is affecting me so much…. I don’t have any strong memories with him at Christmas… the only memory that still stands out around this time of year is when he first asked me to be his girlfriend… but like that one doesn’t sting as much any more and that’s still like 2 weeks away.

Merry Christmas Amy I right….

[mapachiii]

I'm not saying he's weak or a red flag for the dubcon. I'm talking about all the times afterwards. Don't they keep sleeping together for two weeks after the incident after the party?

Also I'm sick of people using their cowardice to justify acting weirdly when they want security and reassurance from other people? Isn't it true that if you like someone enough to want to date them you will control yourself and not do nonsense for fear of sending the wrong message to the person you want to date?

You also said JM discarded JN? When was that? And yet still he should have acted better than, "oh well, then let me sleep with my ex that dumped me". After doing that he cheapened the special thing that was growing between them to something that was casual.

I mean even shtro says he thought they were dating/exclusive. I can imagine his suprise when the rumour mill started saying that jenrina got back together. My poor tarito. Also the fact that jm was being cute during vacation and then suddenly looks sad and troubled right after you sleep with your ex??? And jn acts dumb?

Ugh I hate genZ dating culture. The fact that jm slept around with everyone until he started sleeping with jn should have been a sign. Also imagine seeing someone for months and then when you guys start growing closer they sleep with someone else cuz you guys haven't called yourself bf/gfs. That's why I say red flag. I mean, realistically we know jn won't cheat or be swayed. But that surely left a bad taste in my mouth.

He could've said, "something weird happened last night and idk why I slept with her when I wanted to be with you". It's not like jm didn't understand the complexities of jenrina. Ugh, I get so mad.

But if you wanna write jenrina you absolutely should because if you stall because you're afraid ppl will be triggered from bqt you're just basically saying that that's how they SHOULD be remembered. The sore spot is that you write nomin. So unless you write them having dated LONG before your nomin ship meets or falls in love then it's still gonna have those bqt vibes

sorry i was so sleepy/tired when i replied first jsjsj had just finished writing the update of rock au.

jenrina hooked up TWICE. The night of the party, and the second time. The first one was the assault + dubcon/manipulation and the second time Jeno was a very weak man, having her beg so upset he gave in, a part of him still loving her. He did have a lil bit of hope left for /them/ even if he didn't want to admit it, especially as hey, he still had some forget-me-nots left.

oh no yeah, jeno was soo wrong for hoping for a reaction of hurt/upset/ANYTHING than indifference or acceptence from Jaemin when he told him he hooked up with 'Rina, and he was aware how selfish and twisted that was as he doesn't want o hurt him but at the same time, a sign of hurt could signal Jaemin did want him as more than fwb. And as he didn't see any, he lost all hope of Jaemin currently harboring any feelings for him.

The discarding part I mean Rina discarded Jeno, and Jeno feared (fears tbh) Jaem doing the same.

Ah, thing is, even when they were soo domestic, fluffy together, neither saw it as more, they still saw it as them being rlly good friends aaand fwb. Jeno never considered Jaemin's clinginess to him as more or different to how clingy he is with others like Hyuck or Yangyang. And Jaem could also see Jeno being soft with Lele and Hyuck so he didn't have much reason to consider himself special. Both dumb and blind to it as others like Lele, Jisung, Hyuck and even Mark could notice the two DID act different with each other than the rest.

I love the 'Taro detail hahahaha I waited sooo long to reveal it. He thought they were dating because his room is beside's Jenos so he heard them hooking up, repeadtly at that, and he didn't hear/see them with anyoneee else so he rolled with it. When 'Rina inserted herself back into the picture he was so confused. Also, while 'Rina did continue to drop by Jeno's room and leaving late at night, it was nights of Jeno trying to get her to TALK and her refusing, trying to convince him to hook up with her instead, until she would leave when Jen didn't give in.

Jen did notice Jaem being upset but he had his own messy plate to deal with, he knew by then that Jaem had some deep self esteem issues but he couldn't consider it was related to Jaem pining for him. Oh and riiight after he slept with his ex, Jaem was /fine/ to Jeno, he noticed jaem being upset later on when he got worse.

Yess it should have been a sign but they both were dumb and in denial. Well, about that, Jaem did hint to hooking up with someone else if Jen didn't that one time early on, heck when their sex-cation started, they both didn't expect the other to not have hooked up with someone else in their time apart, both truly believing the other didn't owe them that.

In Jeno's defense, he DID try to explain himself but Jaem cut him off, very nonchalantly may I add.

You're so right T^T I should follow my heart~ ok but in bqt jen and rina will be friends again in not a far future so there is that :D that will be addressed in future bqt chapters thats why I said it is not over yet we have some things to touch on~

[catsanddishes]

About two months ago I posted about Emily's health - we'd been to the vet for urinary issues twice in as many weeks at that point, and we didn't have a definitive answer yet. I want to write up the narrative of what's been happening just to get it down mostly for myself, so this will be a long post about medical stuff, please read with care if you read at all. Or, please enjoy these photos of Emily napping on my tummy in bed and skip the novel if you like. I'll put a tl;dr at the bottom.

BACKSTORY

At the time of the last post (Aug. 15) we were assuming some kind of kidney or bladder stone - her bloodwork was fine, and two cultures for UTI came back negative. Stones are hard to diagnose and can be really small and there were some crystals in her urine so it seemed likely. She also had extremely diluted urine, which was strange since the bloodwork showed normal kidney function (cats often suffer kidney problems in old age - Em is 12). But she does love her water fountain so maybe she was just over-hydrating in her desire to feel better.

Her primary symptom was that she would suddenly freeze and pee in the middle of whatever she was doing - napping, often. She'd stand up, pee, and then stare around confusedly and yowl over it. And I mean, like, yowl. The first time it happened, I realized my spouse had left the litter boxes stacked after cleaning up in the cat closet (this actually took me a bit to figure out because I wasn't totally sure if she'd just spit up water or peed, that's how diluted her urine was). So maybe she'd gone 24 hours without peeing since the box wasn't super accessible. But it happened twice again the next day, and we thought maybe she gave herself a UTI from holding it in or something?? We took her in to the emergency vet since it was a weekend, saying she's peeing outside the litter box. The doctors asked, is she straining to urinate? To which I had to say, well, I don't know? I've not caught her in the littler box trying and failing, I only know that she's suddenly peeing and seeming very startled by it. There's no posturing or effort as far I can tell, but what do I know, I'm not a doctor? She seemed uncomfortable, but more because it took her by surprise and sometimes ended up with wet legs from her own pee.

Both the emergency vet and regular vet follow-up eliminated UTI and confirmed "perfect" bloodwork. So the litter box stacking was maybe a red herring or made a stone get worse? We got her on a urinary care prescription food that's also supposed to be good for "stress" (tbh, Emily has always been an anxious cat - she overgrooms, and has a belly empty of fur because of it). The food would help break up stones, and she was on a painkiller to help with any pain that urinating might be causing.

AFTER THE AUGUST 15TH POST

When we ran out of one form of the painkiller a little less than a week after her visit with the regular vet, she made it maybe 24 hours before she had another peeing episode. She'd been okay for a few days at that point. I had been reluctant to keep her on painkillers as a permanent thing, but we got more since it was the one thing that seemed to be reliably helping. And we could get it in a capsule format which we could pop open and mix the powder into her new wet food for easy intake. At least her pee was more normal colored (and unfortunately smelling), so the urinary care food was obviously doing some good.

But she was still having episodes after a few more days and they seemed to happen when the painkiller would be wearing off. The episodes were also getting worse over the course of the month throughout this whole thing. She started huffing and drooling a bit when they happened. She stopped yowling about it, though. We thought we would just have to wait it out til the food improved her insides. But the episodes kept happening and she was freezing up for longer each time and drooling more. Her tail would puff out. We thought, could she possibly be having seizures?? But none of these incidents lasted more than maybe 20-30 seconds, and again, we're not doctors, what do we know... We thought we just have to be patient, pick up the new painkiller script, she'll get better. Maybe these are panic attacks she's having since the peeing is upsetting and it'll get better when her GI tract is settled.

THE SCARY PART

On August 26th, I had given Em her morning food with painkiller and was getting read to go to work. My spouse had already left. Emily, sitting near her food dish, suddenly froze up and peed and I was exasperated, but this time instead of drooling a bit and shaking it off, she panted like she couldn't breath, drooled like a fountain and it didn't stop. I tried to touch her to pet her and calm her down. She flailed. She tried to scramble away, but her legs didn't seem to want to work. She crashed into a nearby box and fell over. She lay on her side twitching and huffing and drooling and I knew it was a seizure and I thought I was watching my baby die. I was afraid to touch her so I sat on the floor crying over my cat for maybe 45 seconds, maybe a minute, while our other cat sat nearby looking confused, and then she rolled over onto her belly and breathed normally. She was dazed for another minute, but then was up and demanding to be fed. Every episode would always be followed by demands for snacks, so at least it was easy to get her to eat the new food. Still crying, I fed her and called my spouse to get off at the next train stop and come home, we had to take her back in.

Emily hates the carrier and she hates the car. The emergency vet we trust is right near my work, but it's a half an hour by car and often 45 minutes to an hour in morning traffic. She cries almost the whole time every time, no matter how often we go. Though once at a vet, she's always very good and doesn't fight the techs and doctors at all. She's a very good girl minus the crying, and everyone loves her.

It was a long day at the hospital. I went into work for a few hours because it was a Monday, and that's the day that I have to order all the supplies for the shop for the week. It's difficult to pass off on someone else on short notice. I told the hospital staff I was bringing her in for what sure fucking looked like a seizure an hour ago, and now I was re-evaluating all her other episodes in this light. I only had video of the tail end of a much earlier incident, it was in poor light and just showed her looking puffy and drooling a bit. I hadn't videoed that morning because my phone wasn't in my hand and I was afraid to leaver her side. The doctors were baffled, and still were describing her episodes as "straining to urinate". But they prepared a list of tests and boxes to tick to figure things out. Hoping to actually find the stones they assumed were in there, they suggested an ultrasound. I thought, I'm pretty sure that's not it at this point, but it's probably best to truly eliminate all the possibilities before we go on to MRIs or whatever else was on their barrage. I don't even remember anymore. There were a lot of technical words thrown at us.

THE DIAGNOSIS

The ultrasound came back with this: there's a mass in her intestine. It's probably cancer. A biopsy confirmed: gastrointestinal lymphoma. The emergency doctor wasn't sure exactly how this was causing the peeing problems, since it's not affecting the kidney or the urinary tract directly, but maybe something was putting pressure on something else. She thought we'd caught it early, but it was possible it was elsewhere and just not showing up as a mass elsewhere yet.

We made an appointment with the oncology department for Wednesday morning. We thought, even if the doctors aren't convinced yet, we are. Its seizures and this cancer is in her brain. But we'll go to the specialist and see what they say. I took video of her next episode, though the seizures she had in the day between the visits were much more mild and shorter and she didn't fall over, though she wobbled. The oncologist didn't feel comfortable saying for sure it was seizures from the video, but while she was in on Wednesday, she had one, and the oncologist got the neurologist to come look at her while it was happening. They confirmed yep, seizure, and she can't see (or hear, likely, though how would you test that) while it's happening. That's why she freaked when I touched her on Monday because she didn't know what was touching her. I probably made that one worse.

The prognosis was - without treatment (or rather, just drugs to make her feel better, but not do anything about the cancer) she'd have maybe a couple weeks, maybe a month. With chemo, she could have 4 to 6 months, maybe a year if she's in the 5% who respond really well. There's also 5% whose cancer won't respond at all. Chemo for cats isn't like human chemo. You can't get so aggressive that you actually eliminate all the cancer. You can't explain to a cat what's happening, and chemo makes you feel sick. Like you're dying if you're a human. If a cat thinks they're dying for an extended period of time, they will probably die. They'll just shut themselves down, they don't know it's temporary, they can't understand your reassurances. So the chemo is just enough to reduce the cancer without making them feel too sick. You can't give them enough to totally eliminate it, unfortunately, just buy time.

The course of chemo we chose is one pill every three weeks for six doses. This option was the only one that was a form of chemo medication that can cross the blood-brain barrier and get at the cancer that's somewhere in there giving her seizures. Each dose is a hospital visit so they can check her bloodwork to make sure she's well enough to handle the chemo. At home, she has to take a steroid once a day to combat the chemo depressing her appetite and to make her feel better overall. She also will have to take anti-seizure medication for the rest of her life (assuming her life extends beyond the course of the chemo treatment).

All of this will cost us somewhere in the range of $7k over the course of treatment. On top of the costs we'd already paid: two emergency hospital visits, one regular vet visit, prescription food, and other medications. Emily is going to cost us as much as the HVAC unit we had to replace earlier this year. Between these two things, we're wiping out a huge chunk of savings. We're lucky my spouse has a decently well-paying job with regular raises. We're lucky I took on a second job for a while and got a raise at my full time. We're lucky I'm done with student loans and his got suspended during some of the pandemic and next year he'll be able to get the rest forgiven. We have the money to do this and I'm so grateful we can afford it.

THE NEXT SIX WEEKS / TREATMENT

So we go home with one radioactive cat (litter box must be cleaned promptly when she goes and with gloves for a couple days after each dose), and two new medications. We wean her off the painkiller pretty much after the first day or two because, while it may have been helping her be a little more chill, it's clearly not the most effective drug of our little pharmacy. The anti-seizure medication must be given 3x day, every 8 hours. The steroid is once a day. We started off with liquid versions of the two new meds, and the anti-seizure one she ate no problem mixed into her (expensive, probably not necessary but we bought two cases of it) wet food. The steroid smelled terrible, even to me. Like fake oranges or strawberries? She absolutely refused it, even with tuna, so I was forced to try to shove a syringe full down her throat and hope some of it made it down. After two attempts at that, we emailed the hospital so I could pick up a pill version and we got some pill pocket treats. That worked much better.

The first 24 hours, she still had three seizures. Even though the meds should have started working within hours. The hospital team said the dose range could go up to .5ml more than what was listed on the bottle, so we upped her to the max and the seizures stopped. This medication also has side effects of tiredness and potentially lessened appetite. But she bounced back within couple days and was eating normally and seemed to be in good spirits. We also got a pill version of this one since she seemed to like the pill pockets, and that way we could just give her the little bit of extra dosage in the wet food and not be trying to make her eat it all in her food.

The first three weeks went well. She got to her second chemo dose with flying colors. It was such a relief to not be cleaning cat pee out of the carpet or scrubbing tile or running blankets through the wash several times a day, and worrying about her next episode constantly. The hardest part was days when my spouse had to be in the office rather than work from home (my work is retail, no way to do that from home..), so the timing of her 3x a day was messed up. It's really only once a week since I have one weekday off that overlaps with one of his in-office day, and the other day he's in, I get off an hour earlier (which is still not exactly on time for her afternoon dose, but close enough). But she didn't have problems after that initial adjustment period.

She got a second dose of chemo. Her appetite started to wane, and a few days after I'd told the doctor how great she was at eating pill pockets, she bit one in half by accident, got the taste of the pill in her mouth, and was put off the treats. We had bought several bags, of course. We got a different flavor and thought, we'll come back to this first one. Nope, she wasn't having it. Flat out refused to even lick a pill pocket treat. So we switched back to putting the full dose of anti-seizure in her food and topping it with tuna to get her to eat it. Three times day we had to sit with her and coach her through a bowl, making sure she got at least 90% of it down, and making sure Isabel didn't eat any of it. If we put some fresh catnip leaves on it towards the end, that usually got her to finish it up. Thank goodness the catnip seeds sprouted and did well this year.

But the steroid we just had to give her the pill, since that didn't come in any other appetizing form. It's a very small pill, so I was mostly just holding her down and shoving it in her mouth. It's a good thing we've had 12 years of love and affection and she trusts me not to hurt her. She didn't like it, by any stretch, but it was going okay.

My spouse wasn't as good at it, though, and as we approached the midway point to the next chemo, she was seriously struggling to eat We had to start giving her the anti-seizure in pill form just to make sure she got it. That also means she was getting a smaller dose of it, since we weren't able to get her to eat a follow up little bit in wet food. The only thing she wanted to eat was treats.

So it's week three and we're having to give a cat 4 pills a day - 8:30am, 5:30pm, 8pm (steroid), 12:30am. She hates it, and increasingly fights us over it. We get a pill shooter that holds the pill so you don't have to put your fingers in an angry cat's mouth. It helps a bit, but sometimes it takes 4 tries before we can get it down her throat. She spits, she drools to try to keep it out of her. If you catch her sleepy, she fights less, but if she's not sleeping somewhere convenient, she'll know what you're up to when you pick her up. We try various other foods to make "pill pockets" out of, but none work more than once. It's a bad week and half leading up to the next chemo. We're exhausted, we're emotionally wrung out. We have scratches all over our hands. I've got a fingernail cracked with a bruise underneath where she bit down hard.

WHERE WE ARE NOW

At her third appointment, it's time for the midway tests to see how well the cancer is responding. The good news is that the mass in her intestine is noticeably reduced!

We also get the bad news that her bloodwork shows the kidney function is low. It's probably just an infection since her immune system is shot, but it means she can't have chemo today and she needs to take an antibiotic to treat it. They send us home with an ear cream to stimulate appetite and the antibiotic is once a day and supposedly a yummy chewable tablet. The ear cream is demon magic and we can give her the anti-seizure in food again. We keep her at the smaller dose size, though, since she still hasn't had any seizures, even with all the stress.

The bottle of antibiotics says "highly palatable" and "keep well sealed", as if it's so good cats are going to be clawing at the lid to get at it. WHAT A LIE. She doesn't eat it with her treats or the brand new bag of dry food (her favorite after treats). I chop it up and chop up treats to go with it. That works once. I chop it up and hide it in tuna. That sort of works, but she's clearly not thrilled about it, despite the magical hunger-inducing ear cream. And it puts her off the wet food again, though she's crazy for the fresh bag of dry food.

Somehow we make it through one more week, and though her kidneys aren't perfect, they are improved enough for chemo. That was this past Monday - Oct. 14th. They said we have to keep up the antibiotics for another week to make sure the infection is cleared out. I'm not sure how we'll trick her into several more days of it, but I've just done a new dose of ear cream since her appetite for dry food was waning again. She happily downed wet food with tuna sans meds today, so we'll try that again with her anti-seizure tonight.

The doctors also said we could try to bring her down to anti-seizure meds just twice a day since she's doing so well and hasn't had a breakthrough seizure on the smaller dose. So we're on day three of that and okay so far, no seizures. Twice a day actually will let us live our lives a little more easily. My spouse is out of the country next week, so if you've made it this far, pls send me good vibes while I do this on my own!

GOOD NEWS

The good new overall is that Emily has responded really well in an existential sense to all this. She had been hiding inside the couch, being very lethargic, etc. before we got the cancer diagnosis. She acted like a very ill cat for several weeks, seemingly out of the blue. Up til then, you wouldn't have even guessed that she was technically elderly. Now although she has good and bad days on energy, she's no longer hiding. At all. Not even to get away from being given meds. I think the only times she's gone inside the couch has been to hide from the vacuum cleaner. She sleeps with me every night. She comes to sit on a lap and purrs within 20 minutes of shoving pills in her. She clearly doesn't think she's sick, even if she does have lethargic days sometimes. I think she might on some level understand that we're trying to help her - or at least, we're not trying to hurt her - even though her body makes her fight us on pills and she can't help how she feels about food. She's such a good cat. I can't express how much I love her.

At the outset when we got the diagnosis, I thought, she'll make to Christmas probably... maybe... I couldn't see past the end of the year, honestly. I'm feeling a lot more optimistic that she could make the full six months, maybe longer now. I'm still not looking very far into the future, and mostly I'm just treasuring every peaceful moment I have with her. It's still a very day-by-day thing. I'm never sure how well she'll take her meds and that still gives me anxiety at every dose. But I'm going to be getting more sleep now that I don't have to do medication at midnight, so that helps with the mental/emotional stability. We're doing mostly okay now. I'm so glad all the drugs do their jobs and make her feel normal.

TL;DR

Emily appeared to be having urinary issues, but they were, in fact mini seizures that made her lose bladder control, caused by cancer (lymphoma). She's halfway through a course of chemo and seems to be responding well to it - it will buy her six months to a year at best. Giving cats medication is hard, and this whole thing has wrung us out, emotionally (and $$). But Em doesn't know she's sick anymore and she's as sweet as ever when you're not making her take pills!

[latenightmeteorite]

07/26/24

Just went to new student orientation. I had sooo much information thrown at me at once man I don’t even know. Barely any of it is going to be retained man I don’t even remember most of the names I learned. I made some friends tho! And I feel a bit less nervous about it than I did before. Don’t get me wrong i’m still fucking terrified but now I know a bit more about what to expect. At least now I can be excited and terrified at the same time.

I really wish my parents would get their shit together so I could get through this. She promised me I would have a car to get to college but now it’s less than three weeks away and here we are. My dad keeps changing his story and just straight up lying and not communicating and just generally being a pain in the ass to everyone around him. I don’t think they understand how much this is stressing me out. I don’t think he really cares.

I visited my band camp for a couple hours this week. God I miss them so much. I never imagined it would hurt like this. I’m still in denial a little bit tbh. My last shift is on Sunday! Yay! It’s 8 hours straight. Not yay. But seriously I’m ready to get out of there. I’m gonna miss all my girlies but will not be missing the work. I seriously don’t know what they’re going to do once I leave because there’s not really anyone to take my shifts. But that’s not my fault and not my problem. He’s known when I’m leaving for months. Bro is in more denial than I am.

I got invited to go to the casting call for Arx Mortis! I’ve wanted to be a scare actor for years man I’m so mf excited. I’m a bit worried about how it’s going to play out since yk I don’t really know what I’m doing but fingers crossed I guess. At least I finally have the time to do it without games and stuff. Ouch.

I’ve cried twice today about leaving Chloe. I can’t fucking do it man. Sure I made some new friends the past couple of days but I looked for her in every one of them. I can’t imagine my life without her I don’t know what I’m going to do I don’t know how I’m going to survive. She’s worried I’m going to find someone to replace her like that’s even possible. That bitch is my soulmate. There is no one like her. I don’t think I could live if we start drifting apart. I’m so scared to lose her I love her more than she’ll ever know.

Less than three weeks until I leave everything I’ve ever known. That’s not enough time. I’ll try to make the most of it. I’ll try not to worry as much about the future. I’ll try and inevitably fail at not crying about it every other day too. I’m actively crying as I write this post btw.

[skylitcreations]

(I'm gonna preface this by saying I live in the US, so some of these details will be different for various countries, but hopefully, you'll still get the idea)

When I was able-bodied, I used to go out all the time even though I'm more introverted cuz I just enjoyed exploring new places and revisiting places I liked. Nowadays, I rarely go out on my own and when I go out with others, I have to make sure they're willing to deal with how slow I am and using disability seating, taking breaks frequently, etc. You just find yourself not even bothering to go out much because you know it's irritating for the other person even if they're patient with you.

I also used to exercise 6 days a week and was consistently half the weight I am now. Most of my clothes no longer fit and I am left with only a few shirts and pants to go out with because whenever we do have money to invest in clothes I have to put it towards more pajamas for around the house since regular clothes can irritate my skin and be harder to move around in compared to loose pajamas. I also used to clean my entire home once a week and meal prep twice a week. I now can't stand up or bend over as much as I need to do those tasks, especially that often.

I wasn't able to do my job and had to leave it and attempt for Social Security. It has been years and I'm still trying for it, but while trying for it, you're not allowed to have income over a certain amount each month to even be considered so you're not allowed to really work enough to pay for things during that time because that 'proves' you're not disabled. But they do not supply any funds during the time they are working on your case, so you have to somehow pay rent and bills (especially medical ones) without a proper job. Oh, and you may or may not qualify for reduced cost health insurance so you could end up having to pay hundreds of dollars a month towards health insurance, medical bills, and prescriptions. And I'm talking hundreds of dollars per category there, not altogether. And you somehow have to manage rent and utilities on top of that and my 'wife' (quotations are there for a reason I'll get to later) can only pay for so much of that and my disabilities slow me down on the one thing I can still manage to do: art commissions. And I make a lot less from that than I did at a 'real' job and actually have to dedicate more of my time to it because I have to constantly be drawing if able. On top of that, a freelance artist has to also try to constantly boost their stuff, manage orders, keep customer service mode on constantly, trying to keep clients updated as they go along, trying to draw pieces to the side that could get more eyes on their work to bring in more customers, figuring out how merchandise is made and ordered, getting samples from different companies to do quality testing which takes money they haven't yet earned to try and invest in what they hope will make more money later, figuring out how to sell their skills and advertise them in ways that get people's attention, and that doesn't even cover everything. I am technically working MORE than I was before for about half the pay. Don't you think I'd rather just have a job that I can clock in to and clock out each day so I can properly relax when I'm home? Instead, I never get the chance to fully properly turn customer service mode off.

Sure, I love drawing, but I miss drawing just for fun instead of it being my job and me having next to no time to draw things for myself. I'm a slow artist and add my chronic pain on top of that and I can't even work at my fastest since I'm constantly having to take breaks to deal with my arm, hand, and back pain throughout, which doubles that turnaround time. Let's not even go into how chronic fatigue can make me literally too tired to even manage to stay awake long enough to get things done, too. It's maddening tbh.

Oh, and those quotation marks before? Yeah, you're not allowed to be legally married (at least in the US) and get Disability pay. You have to choose one or the other. So my 'wife?' I can't risk getting legally married to her while I'm trying to get disability or else I'm automatically disqualified. Yep, that means we don't actually have marriage equality! I spent most of my life thinking I'd never get married because I was LGBTQ+ and once I finally had the right in that category, I had to worry about Disability shortly after. I have accepted I'm not allowed to get married by this point, but it's absolutely depressing, especially knowing we could save so much money right now if we could both be on my fiancée's health insurance.

Being limited to mostly staying at home is not as awesome as people think. Your entertainment options between watching things and playing games may be pretty expansive but you get tired of being cooped up and not getting out as often because lived experiences are entirely different to watching others live out those experiences for you. I always dreamt of one day going to Disney when I could manage the funds and time off for it, but I never did. And I never got to go as a kid. And now I have to worry about if I could even manage to have fun with all of the pain I'd get with all the walking I'd have to do because walking or standing that much even with a cane sounds like torture. I may never get to go now. And that's just one dream bucket list experience that I will never properly have and may never even get close to having.

And let's not even get into how it's so much harder to maintain exercise and diet when moving hurts like hell and is sometimes impossible and cooking is a lot harder to do so you end up with health problems you never would've dealt with before when you were able-bodied and they just keep piling up on each other over time so you can actually get even worse and you constantly have to worry about what regular daily task you may be unable to do next.

I also wanted to be a doctor if art wouldn't pan out and eventually felt I'd be fine with that being my main job and art staying a hobby. But I couldn't keep up with university when my problems started developing. And now my hands are too shaky from all the meds and such I've had to do over the years just to stay awake, so performing surgery is out of the question. Even then, I wanted to be a psychiatrist/therapist because I love helping people and trying to analyze how they think and figure out what might help. But to get the schooling on top of everything else is impossible for me right now and might be for the rest of my life. And you can tell people that you're disabled but because most people don't have a proper idea of how that is like, they will still constantly think you're just being lazy when you haven't bettered your life yet, as if that is something you can control. They set the system up for you to fail and/or give up, and the world is set up for the able-bodied. Just navigating everything and adjusting when you need to is a struggle in and of itself, but things seem to want to mess you up at every turn. You know how those who are left-handed will talk about how most things in the world are made for those who are right-handed by default? And they either have to figure out how to make being left-handed work with those things or they may end up forced to train their right hand enough to act as the dominant one despite the fact that it isn't. Being disabled is like that but to a larger degree because those who are left-handed are at least generally thought about when people produce things that involve your hands, but most people don't think about your disabilities because they simply don't realize they need to think about it when creating/inventing things.

Because of this, most of us have to figure out aids to buy and use around the house just to do normal tasks. For example, I have to use a shower chair because I can't stand long enough for a full shower and moving around in a shower is hard as well. I couldn't just get a chair to put in there, though, cuz most regular chairs can't withstand water exposure. I also couldn't just buy any shower chair, but one that would fit into my tub, work best with my issues, be big enough to fully support me and be able to withstand my weight. I have had to try and find things to help me do regular daily tasks like that around the house and then have to wait till I have enough funds to afford them and even then those tasks will take so long to do and take so much out of me that I haven't figured out a way to even do a tenth of the stuff I used to be able to. So things end up piling up until someone can help me catch up. And the research to figure out this stuff and find things takes a lot longer than you'd think because you have to try to fit a puzzle piece that doesn't fully fit since it's very rare for a disability aid to be made specifically for which things are limiting the function you're trying to accommodate.

Basically, being disabled is not fun and implying that we are 'living the life' just cuz maybe we can keep up with a show or something better is incredibly insulting.

Able-bodied people usually see home as a place to relax and wind down.

Disabled people usually see home as a cage with a TV.

Fuck you if when a disabled person says their unemployed and stuck at home you say "that's the life hey?" IT'S NOT ITS FUCKING TORTURE

We CAN'T do things, basic tasks, looking after ourselves, walking, thinking, being mobile, we spend everyday in pain that would make you cry. Do you still think that's the life? Waking up with bed sores? Having seizures constantly and no one helping figure out why? Having to spend hours setting up and disconnecting from medical equipment that keeps you alive? That's your goal?

We don't spend our time at home just fucking around.

I wish I could work, I wanted to be a doctor, but I can't even drive anymore.

So don't you dare say you want this life, that I'm living your dream staying at home.

[purplesurveys]

1694

1 - When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Around a month ago when I bought my Dunks. I wanted to have nice shoes for my holiday, but it was also to give a subtle fuck you to my Nike-competitor client since they’re turning out to be my least favorite client.

2 - Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? I guess BT21 plushies count as stuffed animals, yeah? And no, I wouldn’t judge at all. I don’t care for the most part how people live their lives.

3 - Would you describe yourself as fashion-conscious, or do you just wear whatever feels comfortable? Hm, I’m pretty conscious. I like to look good. Some days I’ll be tempted to just go the comfy route, but then I’ll change my mind once I look in the mirror and see that my top and bottom don’t match. 4 - The last time you got up from where you’re sitting, where did you go and what did you do? I went from the living room to my bedroom since I wanted to have a bit of me time with the rain before I need to start working tonight.

5 - Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Read.

6 - Who taught you how to tell the time on a proper analogue clock? It may have been my older cousin.

7 - What’s your favourite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? I don’t invest in this kind of stuff, tbh. I’ve used a scented candle once or twice but I’ve never held on to it as a habit.

8 - How long have you had the computer/tablet you’re currently using? Does it need replacing or upgrading? I’ve had this trusty laptop since 2017, so it’s been over six years. It definitely needs upgrading if we’re being technical – I’ve since stopped receiving Chrome updates for it – but since I only ever open this anymore to take surveys, I’m not in a hurry to replace it anytime soon.

9 - When you’re home alone, do you make sure all your doors are kept locked? Only in the evening when I turn in. Otherwise, I don’t mind keeping the doors open during the day. I live in a safe, private neighborhood and everyone minds their own business. 10  - How often do you light candles? Do you just like regular ones or do  you prefer scented ones or ones that make pretty patterns when they melt? Never. The only ones I’ve used have been gifts, too. 11 - Are you any good at taking care of plants? Nope. They never last with me.

12 - How many surveys have you taken so far today? Will you take anymore surveys today once you’ve finished this one? This is my first one today; I’m not sure if I’ll take any more after this. If I do, I’m guessing around one or two more before it starts to feel tiresome. 13 - What are the main two colours in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colours out yourself? White and brown. Sure.

14 - What was the last hot drink you consumed? What about cold drink? I had hot milk tea in Malaysia – apparently they like their milk tea hot! Pretty unique experience. As for cold drink, I’m having iced coffee right now.

15 - Do you have piercings anywhere except your ears? How many and what are they? Nope, you got it right with just ears.

16 - Do you prefer taking baths or showers? How come? Showers because 1) we don’t have a bathtub, and 2) starting a bath is just too much work for me lol. It’s also like, you need time to fill it up, then you just sit in your own dirt and stuff. Not really a fan.

17 - What time do you need to wake up tomorrow morning? What is it that you have to be up for? 9 AM at the latest – work.

18 - If you work, how often do you get paid? Would you prefer to get paid more or less often? Every two weeks. I’m fine with the length; I learn how to budget from it.

19 - What does your favourite pair of pyjamas look like? Do you wear them to sleep or just to be comfy around the house? It’s purple and has a checkered design. Yes, I just wear it in the evening when I’m about to sleep.

20 - How often do you wake up in the night needing a pee? That never happens as I stay up long enough to sleep through the entire night, anyway.

21 - What apps do you use the most on your phone? Twitter, YouTube, Facebook, and Reddit.

22 - Do you prefer cats or dogs? Do you own any of either? I like dogs; yes, we have two.

23 - Do you have one of those fridges that has an ice-maker in the front? If not, would you find one useful? We don’t have an ice-maker, and I have no immediate need for one.

24 - Do you like wearing hats? What’s your favourite style? Yes, I have several bucket hats.

25  - If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? Back then with Kimi I used to be the all-around parent, from feeding him, cleaning up after him, bathing him, to paying for vet visits. With Cooper and Agi, my sister and I split – I pay for anything that needs to be paid, my sister feeds them.

26 - What’s your opinion on leggings as pants? Whatever?

27 - Have you ever driven in bare feet or do you think that’s too dangerous? That’s...so unusual. Literally nobody does that around here.

28 - Have you ever walked out of a job before? What were the circumstances and did you ever go back? Nope.

29 - Do you collect anything? Are these things worth money or are they practical/sentimental items? Just K-pop merch. They are both.

30 - Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Nopes.

[luvth0t]

SEX AND REGRET ━ C.L

in which you and charles find yourselves in a never ending cycle of sex and regret since the end of your relationship, until you think you’ve moved on.

warnings; hella angst, toxic charles, toxic reader, no morals tbh, cheating, smut, choking, spanking, face slapping (like once barely,) oral sex, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, possessive charles, implied slut shaming? mention/details of a slight breakdown, alcohol, confusing charles, confusing reader.

read part two here !

charles knew was he should’ve done.

when he got back to his monaco apartment after what turned out to be a sour weekend in imola, he should’ve gone to bed and dealt with his misery alone.

he didn’t like being alone though, not when his annoyance and anger was directed at himself.

and that was the case this time around. he’d made the mistake, he had fucked up. and of all places to do so it was in italy. he was hard on himself, he knew that. too hard on himself.

but the headlines and opinions already being thrown around the media only fuelled his frustration. maybe getting over the few seconds where he made a lapse of judgement would be easier if it wasn’t being mentioned to him every where he went or every-time he turned his phone on.

the idea of seeing you first entered his mind when he passed your street on the way back from the airport. he quickly shut it down. he was better than that. he was not that desperate, not right now anyways.

he hasn’t seen you for 10 months, a new record. one little mistake in front of a home crowd wouldn’t break that hard earned streak.

it wasn’t even a DNF.

he was almost proud of himself for a moment, that he had in fact thought of you then quickly talked himself out of it. he had thought rationally. which was a difficult task when it came to anything involving you.

once upon a time he would’ve been at your door already.

the pair of you were almost the definition of toxic. having broken up 2 years ago, for the final time (because there was a few failed attempts before that) you had spent the next year and a half crawling back to each other anytime something went wrong or one of you had one too many shots.

it never ended well. when he wanted you back, you were quick to run off in fear and disbelief. when you wanted him back, he freaked and ghosted you for a week or two.

but it didn’t matter how far the arguments went, or how long the pair of you went without contact, one way or another you’d end up tangled in the sheets together again.

but you had ended it all just before the summer break of last year.

“i mean it charles. i’m done. no more late night visits or drunk phone calls, we can’t keep doing this.”

he didn’t think either of you would stay true to your word, but so far you had. no drunk calls. no late night visits. for once it seemed as if things were actually over between the pair of you.

but then charles sat in the silence of his apartment for a few moments too long. then his go to drinking buddy didn’t answer his phone.

and suddenly his options were thinning and his need for a distraction had multiplied.

he was so quick in grabbing his keys and getting in his car, giving himself no time to think twice about the poor decision he had landed on.

he turned to music to drown out his thoughts as he navigated his way to your apartment complex, no need for a GPS as he took the route he had driven so many times. too many times.

it was when he was parked outside that he realised what he was doing. how’d he know you’d be home? what the fuck was he doing? didn’t we get pass this?

but the idea of going back to his apartment sounded worse, so without any more thought he had huffed and gotten out the car ━ heading inside and up the stairs he hated oh so much.

the stairs you had thrown his clothes down. the stairs he had drunkenly stumbled up alone countless of times. the stairs you had both stumbled up together with hands all over each other. not to mention the time you sucked him off in between floors. or the time the pair of you woke up all your neighbours from the screaming match that made its way outside, not the screaming your neighbours were used to.

safe to say they held all sorts of memories.

none of them deterred him though, pressing on your doorbell as if it was nothing before shoving his hands into his pockets, dressed comfy in a hoodie and sweats.

worst case scenario, you have someone over. he’d never forget the time he’d turned up and your best friend had been the one to open the door. cursing him out, shoving him back down the stairs, making him swear to never contact you again.

he had laughed. the way she acted as if you were not guilty of doing just the same as him. charles would not come back if rejection was expected.

you used to always expect charles when you heard the doorbell and weren’t anticipating someone, but after finally breaking free from the torturous cycle, you no longer assumed it would be him.

right now you were assuming there was a murderer at your door, considering it was midnight.

so you had been silent in approaching and looking through the peak hole.

huh. maybe a murderer would’ve been better.

“not a killer.” his flat voice caused your throat to dry up, completely caught by surprise that he of all people were here.

you should go to bed. ignore him. tell him to fuck off. anything but open the damn door.

so what did you do? open the door.

only slightly though, enough to poke your head out; enough to keep him out there, and you in here.

“what do you want?” you huffed, eyes narrowing in suspicion. your tone had him rolling his eyes, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. but it was too late to turn back. plus he was more than used to being on the receiving end of your venomous tone.

“nice to see you too,” charles mumbled, dodging your question which had you taking in a sharp breath. he didn’t even need to tell you, you knew why he was here, shaking your head quickly.

“we’re not doing this.” you spoke in certainty, raising your eyebrows; grip tight on the door. “you need to go,” you mumbled, nodding towards the stairs behind him, which had him letting out a groan as his head fell back.

“doing what?” he challenged, eyes falling back on you in curiosity. trying to play dumb, as if he wasn’t here because of the reasons you were assuming.

“this.” you huffed, gesturing between the two of you. “leave.” you almost spat, starting to shut the door, impressed you had even got this far. but his hand was quick to stop you as he pressed against the door, leaning forward.

“please,” charles stopped you, and you were ready to snap at him again. but then you caught sight of his desperate green eyes, practically pleading with yours. your face softening almost automatically.

“charles,” you sighed, your voice telling. not sounding furious as you had moments earlier, just disappointed. the fact you both knew better yet this was still happening was incredibly frustrating. you thought you were past this.

“i’m sorry.” he huffed, pursing his lips as his free hand tangled through his hair; the other still resting on the door. “i didn’t want to be alone.” he mumbled out. and while over time you’ve been able to resist his seducing words a couple of times, never could you resist his vulnerable ones.

you were stood in silence for a moment, eyes now holding sympathy but you were hesitant to make any further moves. scared to speak and open the can of worms the pair of you worked so hard to seal.

“that doesn’t mean you come here.” you sighed, biting down harshly on your bottom lip, watching as he took a deep breath, his pleading eyes not giving up.

“i just wanna talk,” he muttered, and you were slowly growing tempted to open up, let him in. but you couldn’t. you knew you couldn’t.

“bubs? who’s there?” a voice snapped you from your trance, charles looking at you in confusion as you parted your lips in surprise.

charles thought his mood couldn’t get any worse, but then he saw a hand slide around your waist, the other moving to the door to push it open, revealing some tall muscular blonde.

“you need something mate?” the guy asked, instantly recognising him as your ex; you almost felt guilty as you looked at charles in the arms of another man. but you shouldn’t.

“uh,” charles spoke, trying to get past the initial shock. a whole lot to take in one moment. “just wanting to talk that’s all.” charles shrugged, and while this ken looking doll was much taller and muscular than him, and attempting to look down at him with an intimidating glare, he was not one bit intimidated.

sure it felt as if someone had just ripped his heart out and shoved it back down his throat, but he wasn’t intimidated.

“didn’t realise you were…” charles trailed off, eyes falling back on you in question. maybe he read this wrong, maybe this was a one night stand. or a regular hook up who you would tell to fuck off.

it couldn’t be much right? the fact he called you bubs spoke for itself. you hated that nickname.

but the way you were leaning into his hold was telling a different story.

“in a relationship,” you finished for him with the nod of your head, pursing your lips at the pure awkwardness of the situation. charles eyes still widened despite it being obvious as he nodded slowly, hand moving to rub the back of his neck.

“right.” charles spoke, biting down on his tongue. he hadn’t seen you for so long, he thought he was over you, even with tonight’s slip up he still believed that you were just a comfort he was used to.

but despite all the break ups, make ups, arguments and screaming matches; he’d never seen you with another guy. it felt weird. he felt the urge to tell the guy to fuck off, you were his.

but you weren’t. a painful realisation he was having for the first time.

“you should go,” the guy spoke again, doing nothing to mask his annoyance. the ferarri driver felt pathetic that his first response was to look at you, hoping, praying, that maybe you’d disagree. but you remained silent.

your boyfriends arms around your waist reminded you of how things were better now. you had gotten over charles. you were happy now. so despite the small part of you wanting to offer charles the comfort he was seeking, you didn’t.

“you don’t say,” charles couldn’t help but scoff, his eyes lingering once more on the way you were being held before he was quick to spin on his feet and leave. not even a few steps away and the slam of the door shut was heard.

if he thought he hated the stairs before, they’ve just gained another reason for him to despise them. another sour memory which was topping the rest of them.

usually as he trudged down these he was drowning in regret and self-hatred for crawling back to you, but at least he’d be leaving somewhat satisfied after hearing you scream his name in a good way.

right now there was no highlight, no shining light, nothing to focus his mind on.

instead of being the drug that offers him a high for a few hours, you had just been a slap to the face.

━

charles was attempting to be grateful. grateful that you had somehow managed to break his heart again, because now he’s eager to get back out on track. two days ago he was dreading it but now you had given him something else to dwell over.

he felt as if you’d broken up again, back where he was two years ago; miserable, short-tempered and relying on anything around him to get you off his damn mind. except this time he couldn’t get back into bed with you to ease the pain for a night ━ which was why this was so much worse. he had actually lost you.

it took two days before he was calling you, drunk off vodka and whatever other liquids had been shoved into his hands from his mates. he had dialled your number as he tripped his way up the stairs to his own flat.

he couldn’t figure out where the steps were but pressing your number into his phone was not an issue, even in his drunken state. he had deleted your contact months ago, yet clearly that didn’t work cause he had your number memorised regardless.

“hello?” your hushed and croaky voice came through the speaker, and even under the influence of alcohol he was surprised you had answered. anticipating an opportunity to just leave you a message.

drunk calls were not foreign between the pair of you, a bad habit he tried so hard to get out of but never to any success, as proven tonight.

but still, you answering was not something he expected.

“y/n,” the driver spoke through a small chuckle, attempting to finds his keys from his pocket so he could get himself inside.

you had awoken to the ringing of your phone, having answered without looking at the name or number, still half asleep. although his voice through the speaker had you wide awake, slipping out of your bed and out of your bedroom, where your boyfriend currently laid asleep.

“charles?” you asked, a sense of dread washing over you; listening to the sounds of him patting his jeans and hearing keys jingle every few moments, alongside his heavy breaths.

“yeah.” he confirmed, sounding disappointed in himself as he let out a sigh, which turned into another chuckle. “wanted to hear your voice.” he admitted, words slurred, allowing you to quickly figure out he was in fact drunk.

“i’m hanging up.” you mumbled, biting down on the inside of your cheek, somewhat hoping he’d make this easier for you and comply. but that wasn’t going to happen.

“no, no, no, no.” charles rushed out, frowning to himself as he attempted to get his key in the door; dropping it in the process, listening to the sound of metal hitting the ground before a curse left his lips. “don’t go.” he whined.

“charles you know i��” you began to explain.

“a boyfriend yes. how could i forget?” his words were dripping with sarcasm, and you could picture him rolling his eyes. “doesn’t mean i can’t speak to you.” charles huffed out, sounding like a child as he finally got inside his apartment.

oh the regret he’d be facing in the morning.

“he’s a prick by the way,” charles added in a mumble, and you stood there silently, leaning against the wall in the hallway of your apartment, attempting to stay calm despite having him on the phone.

him showing up two days ago threw you off enough, the mixed emotions that followed his visit were not positive and was all internalised, he was just too much for you to handle.

“i bet he’s got some… i bet he’s got some basic ass name too,” he ranted, not caring that you weren’t speaking, too drunk to notice as he stumbled into his dark apartment. “like ben.” charles laughed at himself, shaking his head.

“mason.” you spoke up, unsure why you hadn’t hung up on him yet. but you always struggled when it came to cutting him out. “his names mason.” you cleared your throat, only being met with another laugh.

“mason. right. same thing,” he slurred, and you could hear him flopping down onto either his bed or couch. “do you love him?” his question came out casually, shocking you as your throat dried up.

the question had been weighing on his mind heavily among others. do you love him? how long have you been together? how’d you even meet?

“yes.” you admitted, a shaky breath following. the conversation making you nervous for some reason, not wanting to hurt him. but you couldn’t let him hurt you again either. “i do charles. i’m happy.” you muttered.

even with the alcohol flowing through his veins and numbing his feelings, those words almost sobered him up. it definitely sucked out any amusement he was feeling like before, but he had done it to himself by asking you.

“he can’t love you like i do,” charles practically argued, words still slurred but he was speaking quietly now. a lump threatened to form in your throat at his honesty, although you quickly shook your head, not that he could see you.

“you don’t love me.” you tried to sound put together, although he probably wouldn’t notice if you slipped up. you had heard this too many times, drunken confessions and promises. too many times you had believed his words which never held any weight.

“yes i do.” the monegasque sighed, groaning as his head fell back. “love you too much.” he mumbled, standing up from the couch. you heard what sounded like a fridge opening before a drink popping.

you were on the verge of tears at this point, because you knew he wasn’t lying. he did love you too much. and you loved him too much. it’s why you couldn’t let each other go despite all the pain and anguish you both caused.

“bet he doesn’t fuck you as good as i did,” charles spoke after a swig of the bottle of beer he just opened, letting out a small laugh at his words once more. “probably makes love to you every second night, doesn’t know you’re not into that shit,” he continued to speak.

really he was just speaking on the one thing he knew he could never hurt or disappoint you with; sex. the temporary answers to all your issues. the way you two would apologise and make up.

“tell me i’m right,” charles breathed after a few more moments of silence, grip tightening on the phone as he quickly checked you were still on the line.

“i’m happy charles.” you ignored, sounding anything but convincing. you wanted him to believe your words. you wanted to believe your words.

“he called you bubs.” charles laughed again, and you knew this would just go in circles. “you hate being called bubs.” he mumbled, almost as if he was trying to prove something.

“good night,” you huffed, and he began to speak but you cut him off, managing to hang up on him; the sob escaping your lips moments after, hand coming up to block your mouth.

silently crying in your own bathroom over a man you thought you had gotten over months ago, all the while a perfect guy was laying in your bed was a new low, charles leaving you plenty of voicemails to fill your phone as you did so.

and you could only imagine the horror on his face when he woke up with a pounding headache, and you topping his recent call list. while you woke up with tear stained cheeks and a reminder of what used to be.

━

charles had gone back to italy a few days later, deciding to head to the ferarri head office. while he told his team he wanted extra work, to get prepared, he really just wanted to escape his own mind.

he remembered pieces of the phone call, but it didn’t matter. he knew whatever he said wouldn’t have been good. the fact you had answered was probably the worst part. if he had just left you voicemails he could have some peace of mind by convincing himself you just wouldn’t listen.

regardless, here in italy the last thing he expected was to wake up in his hotel room with your number and “2 missed calls” from the middle of the night occupying his phone screen.

he got a weird sense of deja vu, because this time last year he wouldn’t have questioned it. but the last he checked he was the one making the late night calls.

his breath had hitched in a throat when he saw you had left a message, the timer reading 2:24 not doing anything to calm him. but he didn’t hesitate in pressing play.

a few moments of silence alongside movement filled the speakers, and after a few seconds charles feared you’d called accidentally, but then he heard you sniffle.

“i’m at… i’m at your fucking apartment,” your shaky voice spoke. “i’m at your apartment, you’re not here.” you mumbled, causing him to sit up straight as he swallowed intently.

“of course you’re not here. you’re never here.” you almost laughed to yourself, charles tensing at your words. something he had heard before. distance was a key factor of the relationship downfall.

“mason broke up with me.” you spoke after a while, charles not knowing how to react at the sudden confession. “said he couldn’t be with someone who’s not over their━” your voice had cracked, and he didn’t miss the small hiccup that told him all he needed to know. you were crying, causing guilt to wash over him. “not over their fucking ex.” you finished, frustration evident in your voice.

“i tried so fucking hard charles, so hard, to get you out of my life. out of my fucking head. and you still manage to ruin things for me,” you had cried out into the phone. “he was good to me. he was here, he-he loved me.” you rambled, the small sobs enough to have charles eyes watering.

not being able to do anything but listen to your breakdown was one thing, being blamed for it all the while had him frozen in place.

“and it’s all fucking ruined because you wanted to talk,” you laughed through your tears, taking a few deep breaths as you attempted to calm down, sat outside his apartment and leaning against the door.

“and then you tell me you love me. and that you miss me. and that he’s no good for me,” your rambling resumed, recounting everything he had said on the phone and the voice messages three nights ago. “as if those words mean nothing.” you whispered.

charles eyes darted back to the phone, and seeing there was still a minute left scared him. not sure if he could continue to listen to you in pain because of him.

“i don’t even… i don’t even care, that he broke up with me.” you soon confessed, sounding tired more than anything, your tears having settled. “i just hate that the first thing i did, was come here.” your voice had cracked again.

“proved him right, and you’re not even here.” you whimpered, the tears starting once more, feeling pathetic. “i hate you. so much.”

at this point charles was begging for it to be over. after ten months without you, this was hitting hard. giving him a taste of his own medicine for restarting this mess.

“you were right by the way,” you continued with another dry laugh, sniffling again. “i hate being called bubs. i hated the cheesy love making shit, but so what?” you huffed, as if you were responding to what he said a few seconds ago, when really it was a couple of days ago. “at least he fucking made time for me. and could express his feelings,”

it was a direct hit at what charles didn’t do. he knew that. you had never let him live it down despite his efforts to do better.

he couldn’t make out the next thing you mumbled, and suddenly the voicemail stopped ━ almost relieving him.

the relief was short lived though, because the guilt, worry, anger and heartache quickly crept back in. he didn’t bother in checking the time where you were, pressing the number to call you back immediately, standing up from his hotel bed as he began to pace.

straight to message bank.

he pressed it again, and this time it rang through only twice before falling through. you were ignoring him, great.

fortunately for charles, he was in the position to do irrational and extreme things. such as flying back to monaco a few hours later to see you.

he was unsure how it had gotten back to this point. two weeks ago he hadn’t thought about you for months and now he was cancelling plans and making last minute flights to see you.

all because he couldn’t handle a simple mistake he made in imola.

he had called you again when he rocked up at your apartment complex, not wanting an instance like last time. but you didn’t answer, so he was left with no choice but to head up by himself without any warning.

the grunt of annoyance he let out as he made his way up the stairs was quite typical. but in his mind it couldn’t get worse than last time, you had broken up with your boyfriend so surely there would be no repeat of that awful situation.

he had knocked on your door with urgency before pressing the door bell, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. having wrapped up for the day in italy, he hadn’t stopped since getting on board his flight here, only for dinner on the way to your apartment.

“fuck off charles,” he heard you shout out from the other side of the door, causing him to roll his eyes as he knocked again.

“don’t pull that shit with me y/n,” he tried to speak calmly, biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes glanced around nervously, in hopes the neighbours wouldn’t appear. they hadn’t seen his face in a while he wouldn’t mind it staying that way.

he waited a bit, but was only met with silence; causing a frustrated huff to leave his lips. “y/n open the fucking door,” he spoke as he knocked once more.

“you’re not fucking your way into my good books tonight.” you huffed, your voice sounding closer this time. and he wanted to pull his hair out at your words.

always assuming things, shutting him down before he can get his point across ━ which then only gets him riled up and snapping back.

charles bit his tongue, mustering up all his self control to not defend himself and his intentions, instead taking a more childish approach. his finger pressing on the doorbell, before spamming it repetitively.

he couldn’t hear what you were saying over the loud and continuous ringing, and his plan had worked when the door flied open.

“i will call the cops.” you threatened, eyes narrowing and he couldn’t stop the laugh that left his lips at that. you’d made a lot of empty promises but that was definitely the best one.

“go on then.” he couldn’t help but encourage, raising his eyebrows as he finally took you in. you looked tired, which wasn’t surprising considering you were calling him at 3am and then denying his calls at 9am. but you still looked good. you always looked good.

“fuck off. i’m not letting you in, you can’t just show up here and try seduce me to make yourself feel better. that doesn’t work anymore,” you rambled, and he didn’t hide his annoyance as he shook his head, jaw clenching as you spoke.

“i’m here because i’m fucking worried about you,” charles exclaimed back, speaking as if it was obvious; using his hands as he spoke, it being your turn to shake your head.

“i’m not falling for that shit.” you replied, voice lacking confidence but still just as accusing, in denial like always when he said something you wanted to hear.

“you think i’m not going to be worried when you leave a two minute voice message of you on the verge of a breakdown?” he scoffed in disbelief, he understood you had put your walls up but you were simply thinking irrationally if you genuinely believed he didn’t care.

you didn’t know how to reply, wanting to cringe at the mention of the message you had left him last night. not your proudest moment.

“just let me in.” charles took a deep breath, not keen on the whole complex hearing your conversation. you stood there, unsure of what to do. but after a few moments of contemplation you chose the easiest option, stepping aside to let him in.

you locked the door behind him, taking your time in doing so to avoid the inevitable. cursing yourself silently for letting him in, for still not being able to resist him.

“i didn’t want you and… i didn’t mean for you and mason to break up.” charles mumbled in defence when you had turned back to face him; both of you awkwardly standing in the entrance of your apartment.

“it was bound to happen,” you replied in a shrug, your eyes avoiding him as you attempted to be civil. “i don’t need your sympathy.” you couldn’t help but add. as much as you’d like to blame charles it was as much your fault, you knew that.

he didn’t know you were in a relationship. if you had reacted different to seeing him and then hearing from him, it’d be a different story. so unfortunately you couldn’t add this to the list of shit he had done to upset you.

“i know you don’t.” charles sighed, in no mood to argue with you. the past week had reminded him how draining it was, how tiring fighting with you could be.

you hated that he wasn’t getting annoyed at your words, that he was managing to stay calm and speak rationally. it was harder to shut him out that way. it’s why you were always so defensive, so quick to assume the worst in him. it hurt less than getting your hopes up.

“why are you here?” you huffed, moving to lean against the wall, glancing towards him for a few seconds to where he stood on the other side of the entrance. it pained you if you looked at him for too long, too easily caught up in him and his beauty.

“because i was worried about you,” charles repeated, speaking genuinely and in concern which only had you letting out another sigh of frustration, eyes now focusing on everything but him.

“i’m fine.” you rushed out, of course saying those words out loud was a reminder to you that you were in fact not fine. you hadn’t been since he rocked up on your doorstep. and it was obvious, charles knew when you were lying.

“no you’re not,” he shook his head, approaching you slowly; with caution because he wasn’t sure how you’d respond to him or his advances. sometimes you welcomed him with open arms, other times you pushed back.

“don’t act like you care,” you spoke through a deep breath, throwing your head back to stop your watering eyes from letting any tears fall, trying to pull yourself together.

although the fact you had to try pull yourself together was only furthering your self-hatred, not doing anything for the tears that were threatening to spill.

“you know i care,” charles hushed voice snapped you from your thoughts, now in front of you his hands gently took ahold of your face ━ tilting your head towards him. it was the last nail in the coffin, being forced to look at him, knowing you should push him back.

his embrace was the last thing you needed. but you had been craving it so badly, struggling without it. no matter how many times you remind yourself that he’s no good for you.

you didn’t speak as you looked at him, his delicate hold, soft eyes; just reminding you of what you wanted but couldn’t have, and that was enough for the tears to start falling, your walls tumbling down with ease for him.

“i need you charles,” you practically whispered the words that had been weighing heavy on your mind, making a confession you had been aware of for way too long, afraid to speak any louder as he quickly shook his head; his thumbs wiping your tears as they fell, looking down at you with so much love in his eyes.

“no you don’t.” he sighed, heart breaking at the sight he could never get use to. your anger he could handle, but seeing you broken like this was never easy. the urge to protect you and hunt down anyone who made you feel the way you do overcoming him, only to remember he was the one at fault. he was the reason you were in so much pain.

“yes i do,” you whimpered, attempting to look away from him but he didn’t let you, softly bringing your gaze back to him, shaking his head once more and making sure you saw.

“you don’t.” he mumbled, not able to disguise his frown as he studied your features. “you were happy. i fucked it up, but you were happy. you moved on.” he was trying to remind you, it being your turn to shake your head as he spoke.

“no i didn’t,” you sniffled, denying everything he said because you didn’t believe it. you knew while it was the easier option to go with, to convince yourself that you had gotten over him, you knew it wasn’t true.

“yes you did.” charles reiterated. “if i hadn’t showed up here, you wouldn’t be speaking like this.” charles managed to push his own feeling aside, no matter how difficult it was. “and you’d still be with him.”

your lip was quivering at this point, trying oh so hard to not break out in sobs as he spoke. the hold he had on you was unmatched, how he could not only make you cry. but how he brought you comfort, so much so you felt comfortable enough to cry to him. he was everything in the best and worst ways.

“which is why you’re gonna call him tomorrow morning, and explain that he was wrong.” charles words were the last thing you were expecting, blinking few a couple of tears to fix your blurry vision, to see that he was being serious. “tell him you love him. and that he’s who you want to be with,”

it was charles now whispering, unsure if he could keep himself together. but he had to.

for the first time ever he was going to be selfless with you. he was going to put you and your happiness above any of his selfish wants.

“charles,” you signed, shaking your head but he was quick to nod in reassurance; thumbs still tending to every tear that traced your flushed cheeks. the small smile he managed to give you didn’t make it any easier, refusing to believe any of this was okay.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, lying to both you and himself. it was far from okay. he still wanted you for himself - but he didn’t deserve you. and now you had found someone who did deserve you. who you deserved.

even if he had a face that looked oh so punchable.

“you deserve to be happy. and you told me yourself you were happy with him. i’m not going to ruin that.” charles managed to put on another fake smile, you could see through it ━ even with your clouded eyes and spinning head, his fake smiles were easy for you to pick out.

but the fact he was faking one spoke for itself.

“i don’t think i can,” you spoke in honesty, feeling as if you were back to the same point you were at when things initially ended between you and charles. the idea of being with someone else was off the table.

“you can.” he disagreed with you once more, voice still soft, your tears had paused for a moment but his thumbs were still caressing your cheeks softly, keeping your attention him. “because this ends here. i’ll stay away this time. i promise.” the driver couldn’t hide his slightly shaky voice, but he meant everything he was saying.

suddenly you had more tears to cry when he made his promise, managing to keep them at bay as you stood there silent. is that what you wanted?

for him to stay away? to end the cycle of drunk calls and late night visits? to have some peace of mind that even in a years time, he won’t show up?

the thought of it scared you, because up until now whenever things were over between you both, it was never actually over. even the past year away from him, you still silently counted on the fact you’d seen him one way or another.

the mere thought of losing him completely terrified you. and it terrified him too. but he was speeding up the inevitable.

“we’ll be okay.” he practically read your mind, speaking with such confidence yet having so little. “it’s for the better baby,” his voice almost broke this time, and the pet name was enough for you to break down into tears once more.

it was a repetitive cycle that night, he kept repeating what he was trying to say, you kept denying it. he cried, you cried, but ultimately you had both agreed that what you wanted is what not you needed.

it felt like the original break up but ten times worse, because for once there was no toxic intentions. only both of you wanting to rid yourself of the never-ending and draining cycle.

for the first time ever you were parting ways on good terms, without any sex or snide comments, just best wishes and tears.

and you did what he said, you called mason the next morning. apologised for being in your head, assured him you were over charles, that the chapter of your life with him was closed. that you wanted to be with mason, and only him.

like always he was accommodating, listened to everything you said; was patient with you the following weeks and got your relationship together back on track.

you almost wished that he had seen through your bullshit and blocked you, but as the days went on you became happy again. charles slipped further out of mind, and you were satisfied with the love and happiness mason gave you.

it was a whole lot easier considering charles had kept his word.

it was hard work, taking him back to all those months ago when he had to detox from you completely. the intense regret he felt for caving after imola, that he would put himself in this position again.

but he managed. he did not show up at your door. he did not call you when he was drunk off his face at 2am. he spent a fair few nights staring at your number, contemplating undoing all his hard work. but he never did.

it got easier like he knew it would, immersing himself in his work and the championship fight. while you used to be on his mind every second of every day, he soon only struggled with the temptation of you when in monaco.

he’d like to say now that he’s moved on fully, 3 months later. he wonders every now and then what you were doing. did you get back with mason? did you struggle like him?

but he knew he couldn’t seek answers. he couldn’t risk ruining anything you had built for yourself, not again; the guilt would kill him.

but ultimately the two of you were both being quite naive for thinking things would end there, and the universe seemed hell bent on making it hard every time things started becoming easy.

that’s what charles thought anyway when he spotted you on the dance floor of the small club in monaco. he picked you out of the crowd the moment he had gotten to the bar, having ditched his friend who was attempting to sweet talk a girl he met.

he couldn’t take his eyes off you, grateful that you hadn’t noticed him. of course you weren’t here alone, and one of charles lingering questions were answered considering mason was attached to your hips, quite literally as you both swayed to the music.

you looked happy, which was almost a relief. but the gut wrenching disappointment was still there. he wanted you to go back to him, but he didn’t want to see it.

he had been snapped out of his thoughts when you made eye contact, anxiety washing over him in fear that you’d react. that he’d kill your mood, he hadn’t meant to stare but he most certainly was.

but you smiled, a polite and small smile gracing your features as you looked at him. the last thing he expected, which is why he blinked a couple times before quickly returning the gesture ━ giving you a nod of acknowledgment before he finally remembered how to use his legs, disappearing into the crowd as he weaved his way back to his friend.

despite your appropriate response, you were caught off guard when you saw him. needing to stare for a few moments to ensure you weren’t seeing things. you sobered up quickly, not that you had much to drink. barley tipsy.

you had smiled, and watched as he reciprocated before seeing him walk off. eyes attempting to keep track of him but you lost him quickly. your attention now far from the man in front of you.

you were more so worried about whether he was here with anyone? will he leave? will you need to speak to him? should you speak to him?

“you good?” your boyfriend brought your attention back to him, and you couldn’t mask the confusion on your face before giving him a fake smile, nodding and hoping he too hadn’t seen your ex.

“perfect.” you replied with a grin, throwing your arms around his neck, attempting to distract yourself with his presence and the music.

charles too was attempting to distract himself but it wasn’t working, taken him 5 minutes before his eyes were back on you. as long as he kept his distance he was fine, so while he knew he should do himself a favour and just go to a neighbouring club, he stayed.

maybe if you weren’t wearing the short red dress he has fucked you many, many times in he would’ve left. but it seemed god was well and truly testing him and his intentions tonight.

jealousy was the simplest way to explain what he felt as he watched you dance, kiss and laugh with your boyfriend. dwelling on the fact it used to be him. wishing he was the one holding you tight, the one you were whispering in the ear of, the one who’d be taking you home. he was regretting ever encouraging you to fix things with him now. slowly slipping back into his selfish ways.

the next time you made eye contact was his next slip up, he couldn’t muster a smile this time as much as he wanted to; unable to pretend he was unbothered by the scene of you and him.

he was self aware though, tearing his eyes off you and going to get another drink. in fairness he was reacting a whole lot better than he would this time a few months ago.

the old charles would’ve picked out one or two girls to entertain himself with, to make you jealous with and gain your full attention. but not tonight. he wasn’t like that anymore. you two both weren’t like that.

he was now the one oblivious, oblivious to your lingering gaze and stare as he talked to a fan who had recognised him as he waited for his drink.

after almost 15 minutes of conversation, and a picture, charles managed to free himself of the man. while he loved his supporters, the last thing he wanted to do was put on a smile right now.

he went to watch you once more, as if that would relieve any of his annoyance, and much to his dismay you were gone. his eyes darted quickly, as if he needed to know where you had went, as if it was any of his business.

only to see you sauntering off towards the bathrooms with mason not far behind.

one thing he knew for sure was sex in the bathroom was not something you weren’t apposed to. if anyone knew that it was him, so his stomach dropped as you disappeared down the hallway.

suddenly finding a girl to busy himself with seemed like a good idea, but then he realised there was no point because you wouldn’t be able to see it.

which wasn’t a good sign because he thought he was past that.

he sculled the rest of his drink before setting off to find his friend, in hopes they could leave so he wouldn’t act irrationally. because for some reason he was tempted to follow the pair of you, not that it would achieve anything.

just his luck his friend was no where to be seen. the monegasque should’ve used that as an excuse to leave the club without any second thoughts, but instead he used it as an excuse to head straight to the bathrooms.

telling himself he was looking for his mate when in reality he knew you would be nearby. on your knees for another guy? maybe. but you’d still be near.

but he was committed to the role, looking for his friend as he made his way to the bathrooms despite not keen on running into him anymore, but he did run into someone.

“you’re fucking pathetic too,” mason spat as he shoved past him, causing charles to look at him in confusion, before he could say anything however mason was gone, having not stopped to pay anymore attention to the beloved driver who he currently hated.

charles was frozen for a few moments before realising you weren’t with him, turning around the corner to the hallway that bordered the bathrooms to see you leaning against the wall, running your hands through your hair.

trouble in paradise?

“that didn’t look good.” his words left his mouth before he could think, making his presence known as the music was not loud enough here to drown him out. running away unnoticed no longer an option.

your head snapped in his direction, letting out a dry laugh at the irony. of course the man you had just been lectured about turns the corner to meet you here. almost typical.

“you’re a sore subject.” you decided to sum up, looking back ahead of you as you let out a breath, still processing the argument you had just gotten into. you didn’t deal well with confrontation. well the after math more so.

mason had noticed the longing glances across the club, had seen charles and made that the reason as to why your mind was suddenly else where. and when you had rejected his advances and attempts to hook up in the bathroom of the club he lashed out.

“i want another drink,” you mumbled as your lips broke away from mason’s, not used to his eager kisses as you pressed your hands onto his chest.

“can you wait ten minutes?” he grinned, causing you to laugh but you shook your head none the less, letting out a sigh when his lips moved to your neck, causing you to put more pressure on his chest.

“mason,” you breathed out, in seriousness this time and he was quick to pull away, annoyance evident on his face none the less.

“you wanna go stare at your ex a little longer instead?” he scoffed, causing your eyebrows to furrow at his accusing tone and sudden outburst. you had hoped he hadn’t spotted charles but that obviously wasn’t the case.

“what?” you questioned, playing dumb as you watched him take a step back and laugh to himself, shaking his head all the while.

“don’t play dumb you’ve been drooling over him all night.” he responded bluntly. “cant even look or kiss me for more than a few seconds.” he pointed out, and it was your turn to laugh. he was right but you didn’t want to admit it.

“i don’t see how that has anything to do with him?” you quizzed, arms crossing over your chest.

“it has everything to do with him and you know it. god he hasn’t even spoken to you but you’re still obsessed.” mason ranted out, not caring for those coming in and out of the bathrooms around you, your jaw dropping at his words.

“that’s not fair nor true.” you scoffed, feeling quite called out. you hadn’t done anything wrong. sure you had gotten distracted, but you had no intentions of speaking to him.

“yeah keep telling yourself that.” mason breathed out, taking a few steps back as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “you’d be on your knees if he was here right now instead of me.” he insulted, his tone disgusted.

“excuse me?” you asked in full offence, not appreciating what he was implying, your turn to let out a fake laugh. “what’s that suppose to mean?” you asked curiously, raising your eyebrows in expectance.

“tell me i’m wrong then,” mason exclaimed, hands reaching out to emphasise his words, causing your jaw to clench as you looked at him in disbelief. while there was some truth to his accusations, you were offended he thought so little of you. that this was how he was reacting because you didn’t want to hook up right now.

“fuck you for even thinking that.” you were quick to snap, neither confirming nor denying because that wasn’t the issue here. not to you anyways.

“you’re pathetic.” mason left you with his departing words before storming off.

“my bad,” charles laughed awkwardly, moving near you; leaving a safe distance in between. a friendly distance. it worried him that his first thought to hearing you had gotten into an argument over himself was good. maybe he could only be selfless for so long.

“nothing you did,” you hummed as your hand ran through your hair once more, having looked back to him. of course he looked better up close. you’d never learnt how to deal with your attraction to him, not when he’s in a white button up, sleeves rolled up; hair messy. oh god.

“i should get going,” charles came to his senses quickly, realising he was in a dangerous situation. you, alcohol and that red dress which was a literal red flag. he didn’t trust himself to stay true to his word standing right here.

while he hoped things could eventually play out in a manner where you two could have a friendly conversation, he still felt as if being alone with you would lead to screaming and cursing. in what way he didn’t know.

“no wait,” you spoke out too casually, arm reaching to grab ahold of his wrist to stop him. you were acting without thinking, credit to your short temper and the minimal alcohol in your system. “how are you?” you hummed in interest.

charles breath hitched his throat from the contact, eyes staring down in to yours. he knew that look too well, seen this too often. you hated small talk and only ever resorted to it for one reason, so figuring out where this was going was easy, considering he’d been down this road countless times.

“i’m good.” he nodded, pursing his lips as you nodded with a small smile, eyes looking up at him with anything but innocence, and his self control was being tested when you looked at his lips for a moment too long.

“that’s good,” you replied, hand still gripping his wrist lightly, thumb brushing over his skin casually. maybe you wanted to make mason regret his words, he should be careful what he wishes for.

or maybe this was just what you wanted.

“y/n,” charles trailed off, taking a deep breath as he gave you a questioning look but you gave it no answer, acting oblivious as you looked at him, allowing him to go on. “we’re not doing this,” he mumbled.

oh how many times either of you have said that.

“i’m not allowed to see how you’re going?” you scoffed, although a playful laugh followed as you tugged him slightly closer towards you, he didn’t resist the few steps that it forced him to take, towering over you now.

“not when you’re wearing that,” he grunted, shamelessly allowing his eyes to take over the little dress once more. all sense of rationality and morals were out the window now, lost in the sight and smell of you.

a small smirk grew on your lips, excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach which left no room for sympathy or guilt about the current thoughts you were having.

so with no better judgement and no care for anyone lurking you went back to your old ways, old habits, and closed the distance between the pair of you as you crashed your lips into his.

he could never deny you, so his hands were quick to fly to your waist as he kissed back; all plans of leaving you alone well and truly forgotten and all progress lost as he pushed you against the wall.

your hands had a grip on his shirt, as if he’d try run away, the kiss sending shivers throughout your whole body and causing goosebumps on your skin, a sensation you had forgot you missed.

“i should go,” charles spoke as he pulled away from the kiss, a moment of guilt hitting him, this was quite clearly him ruining things and he had swore to not do so again. and although he already crossed the line, this could easily be blamed on alcohol if he left now.

you looked at him for a few moments, contemplating the options. he could go, he should go. but you didn’t want that and you were sick of acting like you did. sick of pretending that you didn’t want him even if it wasn’t right.

“no you shouldn’t,” you told him, hands running over his chest as your lips hovered over his, and he stood no chance in thinking straight with you all over him. mind growing foggy from the idea of staying and having you the way he wanted.

“you’re either going to stay, and fuck me.” you hummed out simply, one of your hands moving to cup his jaw gently. “or i can go find mason, and have him fuck me while i think of you,” you concluded, a sweet bat of your eyelashes to top it off as your thumb brushed over his bottom lip.

his eyes had visibly darkened at your words, jaw clenching at the thought alone. and that was it for him taking the moral high ground.

“you do that often?” he asked with raised eyebrows, his hands trailing down your waist, before moving back up, wanting nothing more than to grip the material and tear it off of you. “think of me when you’re with him? when he’s fucking you?”

you didn’t hesitate to nod, letting out a small hum of confirmation. no complaints about boosting his ego right now. “yeah.” you admitted, grip still tight on his shirt. you had no time to worry about his hands leaving your waist because he had quickly grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the nearest bathroom.

he locked the door within a second and you didn’t hesitate to throw your bag aside onto the bathroom counter, not bothered by what had fallen out as then had you pressed up against the door, lips against yours as he kissed you hungrily. you kissed back just as eagerly, hands tangling in his hair as you made sure to have him as close as possible.

and even though there should’ve been a sense of guilt floating around in your hazy mind there was none, no thought for the guy you had come here with, only the man in front of you. you had been thinking about this since you first spotted him tonight.

one of his hands moved to your thigh, hoisting up your right leg as his hips pressed against yours lightly, his grip tight on your skin as his lips trailed towards your neck.

you let him do as he pleased, head tilting back to give him better access to your skin, no shame in the small moan that left your lips as he kissed and sucked at the sensitive spot below your jaw. he knew your body better than anything.

“could fuck you right now.” he grumbled against your skin, giving your thigh a squeeze as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your moan intertwining with his when he pressed his hard on against you once more.

it had you almost smiling to yourself, the way you could turn him on so easily. the feeling well and truly mutual because you knew in no time your panties would be soaked.

you moved your hands to his belt as he continued to kiss at your neck, the marks he was certainly leaving an issue for later on. he was not missing any opportunity to mark you up, the need to remind you and anyone around you that you were his.

you pushed him back lightly once getting his belt unbuckled, before starting to sink to your knees as you pulled his pants down lightly. funny how mason had somewhat predicted this and you took full offence and denied it, but looking up and seeing charles smirking down at you was enough to make you forget the conversation you had with your boyfriend. forget your boyfriend as a whole.

you were stopped before you could however; his hand grasping your jaw and leading you back up to look at him. “as much as i want your pretty lips around my cock amour i need to taste you first,” charles whispered, causing a small pout to present on your face.

“i wanna taste you.” you almost whined, hand moving to run over his hard on ━ palming him lightly, watching the way he reacted to your touch; jaw tensing alongside his grip on your jaw.

he almost chuckled at how eager to please you were, thumb brushing over your pouting lips with raised eyebrows.

“been thinking about this for months ma belle, you’re gonna take what i give you.” he warned, tilting his slightly in question and you needed to take a deep breath, nodding in agreement. “use your words baby.” he added with a raised brow, causing your cheeks to flush.

“yes,” you quickly rushed out, watching as he let out a small chuckle and hum of approval, his thumb then pushing past your lips; almost distracting you from his other hand which was crawling down your side, landing on the hem of your dress and sneaking under.

you sucked on his thumb as if it was his cock, wishing it was his cock. looking at him with angelic eyes in an attempt to sway him to change his mind as you swirled your tongue around the digit. but your efforts were forgotten when his fingers ghosted over your clothed entrance.

he watched you intently as you sucked his thumb expertly, dick twitching at the sight and feeling; making him question stopping you from getting on your knees. “good girl,” he cooed in appreciation, the praise sending heat to your cheeks.

you moaned around his thumb as his fingers pushed your panties aside, and while charles was enjoying the show he wasn’t going to risk muffling any of the noises he had been repeating in his head the past few months, pulling his thumb out of your mouth with a pop.

“please charles,” you moaned out when his fingers flicked over your clit, moving to grip one of his arms because you were unsure if you’d be able to hold yourself if he started pleasuring you, and that seemed to be the plan as his fingers began rubbing circles quickly.

“i got you baby,” he hummed in reassurance, making quick work of his fingers as his other hand remained cupping your jaw, ensuring your eyes stayed on him, admiring as your lips parted and face contorted in pleasure. “missed my fingers? know how much you love them,” he asked as one slipped inside you suddenly; and you let out a small whine as you nodded quickly.

how could you not love his fingers when they worked your body so perfectly and he had hands that were so nice to look at and felt even better on your skin.

“so much,” you moaned out as your head fell back. “missed them so much,” you repeated, whimpering when they stilled, your hips bucking in an attempt to mimic the feeling of them a few moments ago.

“eyes on me.” he demanded as he gave your cheek a small tap, causing your head to whip back up to look at him with pleading eyes, letting out a breath of relief when his fingers got back to work.

your body felt as if it was on fire, his stare doing nothing to help as you couldn’t escape his eyes that were admiring you so shamelessly, watching as you got off on his fingers.

“look so fucking pretty like this,” he muttered out, sliding in a second finger, thrusting it in and out of you alongside the first, his thumb having not let up on your clit. “making a mess all over my fingers when i’ve barely started… such a slut for me hm?”

you whimpered with a nod, back arching slightly as he curled his fingers perfectly, enough to have your head falling back but you resisted; putting in effort to keep your eyes on him and only him.

you were too lost in the pleasure to see the displeased look on his face, but you heard the grunt of annoyance when his fingers stilled once more, his hand that was gently cupping your jaw moving to grip your neck, causing a surprised gasp to leave your lips as your hips moved against his hand once more.

“you’re out of practice love,” he huffed out, squeezing your neck lightly. “forgot how to use your words or just getting dumb off my fingers?” he questioned, and you quickly shook your head, attempting to remember what he had said.

“m’ sorry,” you quickly whined out, sounding somewhat breathless from the restricted airway. “i’m your slut… you know i am,” you quickly added, thighs attempting to squeeze together but he had already strategically placed his knee in between them to prevent you from doing so.

the ferarri driver let out a hum of approval and then thought, his fingers still inside you doing nothing to please you as your hips squirmed for a few moments. “i’ll let it slide considering you haven’t been fucked like you deserve for a while,” he decided out loud, a petty jab at mason and his own ego boost but you were in no position to call it out right now.

you were anticipating his fingers to resume after what he said but instead they left you completely, his grip on your neck leaving. you had enough time to frown but couldn’t say anything before he had grabbed you by the thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the edge of the sink counter.

“spread your legs for me.” he instructed, green eyes flickering up at you as you did as he said - always so quick to submit to him, breathing through heavy breaths, chest raising every few moments as you kept watch of him, biting down on your bottom lip as he crouched down and spread your legs further.

he pressed kisses up your inner thighs, nails digging into the soft skin as he kept your legs apart before pulling the thin lace material which was now ruined down your legs, shoving it into his pocket.

you leant back on your hands, trying to stay still as his lips continued to tease your inner thighs before they finally reached your clit, and your breathing only got more erratic when he positioned your legs over his shoulders; giving him perfect access to your cunt.

“oh my god,” you moaned out when his tongue dived between your folds, gripping onto the counter beneath you as he lapped at your core like a starved man. because he had been, denied of you for way too long.

his bruising grip on your thighs kept you in place as his tongue moved between your folds and clit, swirling perfectly as he enjoyed all the pretty sounds leaving your lips, hearing you moan his name would never get old. it was addictive, he just wanted more.

“charles━ so fucking good,” you exasperated, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your clit, tongue flicking perfectly, and while you looked back on your times together often it was always better than you remember, a shock to the system despite being so used to him ━ it had been a while since you had been pleased like this.

your moans were only growing louder, no care in the world that anyone outside the bathroom could hear; you would never be quiet with charles, unless you really needed to but even then it was a struggle.

in a trance by one and another, the ringing of your phone eventually gained both of your attention, but you didn’t bother to look at the phone that had fallen out of your bag and onto the counter right next to you.

charles did however, eyes looking up and thanks to the bathroom mirror he could quite clearly make out your boyfriends name printed across the screen.

“answer it.” charles face left your cunt, looking up at you, causing you to shake your head in confusion, looking aside as your stomach dropped at the contact name, before shaking your head once more.

“what?” you rasped, attempting to catch your breath; but charles wasn’t messing around, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“answer it.” he repeated, and you only stared at him dumbfounded; struggling to process everything considering the pulse between your legs, but his hand moving to lay a slap on your clit brought you to your senses, your body jerking as you whimpered.

it put you into action however, hand scrambling for the phone as you answered it; blindly doing as charles said as you lifted the phone to your ear.

“hello?” you tried to sound normal, as if there wasn’t another man between your thighs, but that was going to be difficult considering the moment he heard you speak charles resumed his assault of your cunt.

“where are you?” a flat mason spoke from the other side of the line, charles managing to make out his words despite the phone not being on speaker, his tongue swirling around your clit as he let go of one of your legs to slide his fingers inside you once more.

you were biting down harshly on your bottom lip, face red and legs shaking as you attempted to suppress any moans or sounds. “none of your business,” you huffed, taking a moment to breathe between your sentences. “you stormed off from me remember,” you added, eyes looking down at charles.

“which i shouldn’t have done, so don’t be difficult and tell me where you are.” mason spoke through gritted teeth, charles rolling his eyes as he fingered you, quite eager to get you off while you were on the phone to your boyfriend.

yep, trying to be the selfless ex was well and truly a thing of the past. a phase you could say. this was coming much more naturally to him. not to mention it was much more enjoyable, watching you struggle to contain the pleasure he was giving you as you spoke to the guy who was meant to be the one dragging these sounds out of you was amusing and somewhat comforting to charles.

“i don’t want to see you right now,” you spoke, a moan almost slipping past your lips when charles curled his fingers, attempting to disguise it with a cough before clearing your throat. your knuckles were white from the grip you had on the counter and phone, hand shaking as you kept it up to your ear.

“i don’t give a fuck what you want y/n,” mason exclaimed loudly, charles hearing him loud and clear, eyes tuning up onto you. he notice you were unbothered by the outburst, only focused and caring about your he who was in between your legs. but charles didn’t appreciate the tone he was speaking in, no matter how hypocritical that was of him.

so he moved his hand up towards the phone, signalling for you to give it to him. hesitance flashed your features for a brief moment, but then his fingers curled inside you again ━ enticing you into submission as you passed it to him with no second thoughts.

“what do you want? make it quick.” charles spoke into the phone as he moved it to his ear, his other hand still playing with your pussy, fingers curling and thumb rubbing circles.

he didn’t need to see mason to recognise shock, the silence on the other end of the line speaking for itself and charles couldn’t but smirk.

“you fucking piece━” mason began to cuss out, but was interrupted by the sound of a squeal like moan leaving your lips, unable to stop yourself as charles slid a third finger inside of you ━ giving you no time to adjust and curling them to press against that spot inside of you. you had covered your mouth but it was all too late.

charles was almost grinning ear to ear, a small hum of appreciation being heard from the monegasque as the phone fell silent again. “bet you haven’t heard that before,” charles spoke teasingly into the phone sounding incredibly proud, and while his cockiness and bragging usually pissed you off it was only adding to your arousal right now, your moral compass completely off balance.

the call was ongoing but silence was all that followed, charles letting out a small chuckle; and you were well past hiding your moans, small whimpers and whines leaving your lips.

“i’ll tell her to call you back.” charles concluded before hanging up, tossing your phone aside, and you whimpered slightly. while you knew it was wrong, all of this was so wrong, it felt so right.

his tongue made contact with your clit once more, and it wasn’t long until your moans became irregular and strained, your legs were shaking more and more and you were clenching around his fingers.

“cum for me mon amour,” charles breathed against your core. “make a mess all over my fingers, go on,” he added and it was enough to send you over the edge; the orgasm hitting you hard, eyes rolling back as you chanted his name.

he could never get sick of the sight, watching as you shook on his fingers as he let you ride out your high, practically in awe as he did so, his hand squeezing your thigh in attempt to calm your shaking legs.

“oh my god,” you spoke through a whisper as your eyes fell back onto him, breathing heavily as his fingers slid out of you, watching as he stood up straight and guided them straight to your lips.

you didn’t miss a beat, taking them into your mouth eagerly as you cleaned them off one by one, eyes pouring into his as he watched you with a proud smile on his face.

“so good for me,” he commented, your red cheeks somehow darkening, never being able to get use to any flattery or praise that left his mouth. no wonder it was impossible for you to resist him, he always knew what to do or say. your body always reacting to him.

when his fingers left your lips you were hoping you could replace them with his cock, desperate to return the favour but he wasn’t wasting any time as he tugged you off the counter, turning you around and pushing your back down so you were now bent over the sink.

“i want you in my mouth,” you huffed out as you stared at him through the mirror ━ watching as he rolled his eyes, his hands ghosting your hips as he shook his head.

“and i want to remind you who your pretty cunt belongs to.” he snapped right back, challenging you to make a fuss as he pushed the material of your dress that had already rid up your legs even further up, bunching around your waist, leaving you bare and exposed for him.

“you just did that,” you tried to argue, pursing your lips as you admired him through the mirror, his swollen lips, messy hair from your fingers tangling through it. god he was perfect. and you just wanted to admire the sight from below him.

“ma belle,” he grunted, in two minds about your desperation to suck him off. it made him want to fuck your face and also bend you over his knee all at the same time. “don’t make me remind you what happens when you act like a brat.” he spoke out, his hand moving to give your ass a squeeze as the other freed his cock from the constraints of his pants.

your lips curved upwards at the warning, and you were ready to test him and take him up on that offer before catching sight of his dick, realising you’d much rather him just fuck you. you knew how cruel he could be, edging you for hours, denying you of an orgasm, giving you 3 in a row so your crying. it wasn’t worth the risk, not tonight at least.

“that’s what i thought,” he breathed out as he kicked your legs further apart, before running the tip of his cock through your folds, the slight touch of your sensitive cunt having your body lurching forward slightly.

you whined, hips wiggling in an attempt to hurry him up ━ eyes watching him carefully through the mirror, arms flat on the counter beneath you.

he couldn’t resist, despite the want to tease you and have you beg for him he could only wait so long himself, having dreamt and daydreamed of this for too long. you two weren’t meant to be apart for as long as you had been, so thrusting inside of you was an immediate relief.

your jaw dropped at the full feeling, his hands gripping your hips as he groaned, your tight walls wrapping around him so perfectly, like you were made for him.

“charles; fuck,” your words stumbled out, attempting to adjust to the size of him, to the feeling of him inside you again. he kept his eyes on your face, a half assed smile gracing his lips at your reaction before he pulled his hips back and thrusted into you harshly again.

“mhm, oh my god,” you moaned out; eyes rolling back, your hands returning to their grip on the counter to help get you through the painful pleasure. you had no time to prepare yourself as he started thrusting in and out of you consistently, pulling your hips back and forth to meet his movements.

“feel so fucking good amour,” charles spoke; drawing your attention back to him and his words, reminding yourself to admire the sight of him fucking you, but the way he was practically pounding you made it a struggle to focus on anything, only being able to moan in response.

you hadn’t seen his hand move to your hair, tangling in the strands and tugging you back towards him, causing your eyes which had fluttered shut to shoot open, meeting his in the mirror.

“watch as i fuck you ma chérie,” charles cooed in your ear, his sweet tone not matching his harsh movements, his cock hitting that spot in you every time. “gonna ruin your tight cunt; taking me so fucking well.” he grunted, your head nodding pathetically as you moaned his name once more.

“please,” you whined, not sure what you were even pleasing for but it didn’t matter, your hand reading back and gripping onto the arm he was using to hold your hair, managing to keep your eyes on the image of the pair of you in the mirror.

he too was admiring the scene, the way your back was arched, showcasing your chest; causing his hand to leave your hip for a moment and tug the front of your dress down so he could fully enjoy the sight of your boobs bouncing with each snap of his hips.

“you’re mine,” charles reminded you instinctively, the sight of you on his cock, in his arms again enough to clarify the suspicion he had that he wanted you all for himself. “all mine, but you already know that don’t you baby?” he had repeated, lips ducking to your neck to kiss over the small marks from his fingers and lips from earlier on.

once again all you could do was moan and nod, mumbling out your agreements and curses of how good he was fucking you, barely coherent sentences leaving your lips as he fucked you stupid, his thrusts only getting harder ━ refusing to grow sloppy with his movements.

“use your fucking words,” charles huffed for what felt like the 100th time tonight as he laid a sudden slap to your ass, causing you to let out another squeal like moan, body attempting to leave his grip in response. he just needed to hear you say it.

“all yours charles,” you moaned out, your knees buckling under you slightly but his grip on your hip and hair kept you upright. “only yours, fuck━ fuck feels so good,” you managed to speak, watching as he continued to kiss your neck, back, shoulder blades; anywhere he could reach.

his hand soon let go of your hair, and thankfully you managed to catch yourself as you were bent over the sink once more, charles hand returning to your hip before he fastened his thrusts, causing you to practically see stars.

every thrust had you practically squealing, attempting to not scream his name although every moment that passed by it was becoming harder, weak legs below you not doing anything to hold your weight.

your body went into auto pilot mode for a moment, snaking your own hand down between your legs to rub your clit, something you had to do quite often with anyone but him.

“don’t you fucking dare,” charles was quick to slap your hand away, his own fingers finding your clit instead, and if he hadn’t spent so long apart from you he would’ve been offended that you were going to touch yourself with him right here. “need to fuck some sense into you,” he couldn’t help but mumble.

but he got away with yet another snide comment because your mind was practically broken when his fingers danced around your sensitive bud, losing control of your body as you practically shook.

his stamina was unmatched, still fucking you like he just started, harder than when he started actually, and your tired body had almost forgotten how to keep up. you had no warning to give when you came suddenly, shaking as you did all but scream.

“oh fuck,” charles groaned, his own head falling back as you clenched around him tightly, feeling you cum all over his dick enough to make him hit his orgasm, cumming inside of you as he has done many times before.

you stayed where you were for a few moments, not sure you had the strength to move as charles slid out of you, his hands grabbing you softly now as he placed you on top of the counter once more, having not failed to notice your weak legs.

your hands had tugged the material of your dress back up, not that you were attempting to be modest as the pair of you caught your breath, processing what had just happened.

it seemed no matter how many times this happened you never knew what to say afterwards, and you weren’t sure there was a right thing to say.

but then you saw that look in charles eye that you knew all to well, your heart dropping at the sight of his regret filled features.

charles in intense thought as he replayed the events of tonight, how he went back to his old ways, went against everything he had promised you. promised himself.

“please don’t look at me like that,” you mumbled through a sigh as you leant back still catching your breath, pushing your hair out of your face. his eyebrows had furrowed, acting like he wasn’t aware his thoughts and feelings weren’t so transparent.

“like what?” he asked, trying hard to not sound defensive because he couldn’t help but notice the disappointment in your tone, his hand tangling through his hair as well to try tame the few wild strands.

“like you regret everything we just did.” you replied, sounding unbothered, as if you were use to this. because you somewhat were. he was so easy to read, especially moments after sex, even when you were physically exhausted.

“please don’t start y/n,” he sighed at your accusation - sounding tired, his hands moving to pull his pants up and fix his belt, avoiding your eyes as he did so; in no mood to argue with you even though you blatantly called him out. you never missed an opportunity to call him out it seemed.

you resisted the urge to scoff, watching him despite him quite clearly avoiding your eye. “you always do this.” you huffed, masking your disappointment with annoyance. “acting like what we did was a bad thing,” you spoke in somewhat denial, because it definitely wasn’t a good thing no matter how good it felt.

his eyes lifted back onto you, raising an eyebrow. “you just cheated on your boyfriend.” he spoke flatly, letting out a breath. “sorry that it crossed my mind for a moment,” his apology one of sarcasm and frustration. frustrated that things still hadn’t changed, that if you weren’t having sex you were arguing.

“yeah and you bragged about it to him on the phone,” you scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head. “you can’t act all guilty and above now.” you explained almost desperately. that wasn’t fair.

charles rolled his eyes, knowing you were right. but god did your accusations and assumptions make it difficult for him to agree with you. he hadn’t even said anything.

“you don’t feel guilty?” charles questioned with a raised brow, dodging your words like he did so often, pretending that this whole conversation wasn’t ridiculous.

“no.” you were quick to speak in certainty, swallowing quietly. okay obviously there was a little guilt, but you didn’t regret anything. “i want you charles,” you sighed out, words softening as your hand reached to grab his wrist. “not him.”

charles mind was racing, the grasp of his wrist was a soft and intimate touch he had almost forgotten existed, your words not what he expected either.

and while it’s all he wanted to hear, he couldn’t help but replay the events of a few months ago, of a couple of years ago, of the whole relationship.

this never ended well. he ruined things for you last time, he’s done it again. you’ve told him you wanted him before; and backtracked weeks later. this time was no different, you two just didn’t work.

“y/n you know we can’t,” he sighed, and you felt the soul crushing disappointment he had delivered to you too many times once more, quickly shaking your head but he continued. “this doesn’t work.” he added, and you could only laugh.

“don’t do this to me,” you practically pleaded, already knowing where this was going. it seemed to be luck of the draw with him, and today was not your lucky day.

just another time where your feelings don’t align, your wants don’t align.

“i’m sorry,” he tried to apologise, convinced this was the right thing. convinced that this little bit of pain right now would save you both from agony in the near future.

convinced that he was doing what he needed to, pushing back his own want to be with you as he always did when you reciprocated it.

“you’re unbelievable,” you spoke through a whisper, now afraid your voice would betray you. but you weren’t shocked, not at all surprised he could fuck you, call you his, call you by those stupid pet names, then speak to you like it was nothing.

charles was unsure of what to stay next, and your watering eyes didn’t make it any easier; so he did what he always did, and ran away.

a quick pat down of his jeans to ensure he had his phone and keys - placing your panties back on the counter, one last look with sympathy held eyes before he slid out of the bathroom without saying anything else, taking your broken heart with him.

leaving you on the counter with nothing but tears on your cheeks and his cum painting your thighs, a state you had been in too many times, yet it never got easier.

and you couldn’t be mad, knowing you have been guilty of leaving him in similar circumstances before, but that did nothing to ease the pain in your chest, to soften the blow of thinking once more that this time things would be different.

and the haunting knowledge that it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, no matter how many times you swore to yourself right now that this was the last time you did this. you’d find yourself back here soon one way or another.

━━

a/n: ouch 😀

okay i hope u liked it, i think i liked it. kinda my first angst centred piece so feedback would be greatly appreciated ily all <333

i do have some ideas for a part 2 so let me know as well if u want that 👀

also she’s half edited bare with me for a bit like usual oops

[p-antomime]

— minors don’t interact.

— wc: 1K.

content + warnings: 18+, including: faux sympath dom!fushiguro toji, spanking, breath play, breeding kink, manhandle, implied jealousy, degradation, names calling, dacryphilia, physical punishment, humiliation, i think i can say that toji is a hard dom here too, mention of mind break, wall sex, creampie, toxic!toji also tbh, cum play, pain play.

pairings: fushiguro toji x fem!reader.

request.

— C'mon, can't you do any better than this? — The older Fushiguro said, rubbing one side of your ass, which already had irritated, aching and throbbing skin from the previous slaps.

Why was Toji so mean, so harsh? Well, because you deserved it. He had said not once, not twice, not three, but four times that he would not tolerate you acting like you were still single when the two of you had been in a stable relationship for more than half a year. It wasn't as if he wasn't also a womanizer before you existed in his life, but it was "different", he would say. It wasn't as if you were flirting with every man who crossed your path during the weekdays, but, to Toji, it was as if the two of you were playing a game of cat and mouse whose goal was to see who could lose patience with each other faster.

And usually it was him.

So much so that about three hours ago, when you two were coming in from an ordinary weekend walk, Toji wrapped his hands around your neck to press you against the wall and fuck you for long minutes until your hips were aching and you were crying out for him to give you at least a brief time to breathe. By that time, your lungs were burning inside from the effort of continuing to breathe in and out as your man's dick sank inside you aggressively and one of his hands pressed against the sides of your neck almost to the point that your head started to feel dizzy.

It was so easy to make you turn into a drooling mess that from being Toji's punishment for you, it turned into fun for him. Fun because it was a mental prize for him to see how far you could take it, even though unconsciously the two of you had already agreed that if he went over the line, the safe word would be spoken if only in pure, unregulated whispers. It might not seem like it, but Toji cared about safety because it would be so unfortunate if his favorite toy broke irreparably or the trust between the two of you broke as brittle as porcelain.

Now, his hands were taking advantage of your fatigue to move down against your ass without much concern for whether it would be too much pain for your body to handle after he made a point of having you deeply breeded against the same wall he had pressed you against hours before. As a result, you were lying with your belly resting on one of his thighs, ass throbbing harder and harder as his fingers rubbed the beaten places after slapping them just to spread and prolong the pain further, your entrance leaking out in piles as Toji's hands by indirect pressure made his white cum escape from your hot insides and go wet your thighs, eyes watering and your throat hoarse from moaning his name.

— My little whore wants to stop? — Toji asked before slapping the left side of your ass again and you arched your back, biting your lips to keep from moaning too loudly since your vocal cords were halfway through sending you off for a long week of not being able to speak properly, and denied it with your head. — Oh, really? You look pretty fucked up right now. — He ran his tongue over his lips before watching your body for a few brief seconds and pulling you away from the thigh you were lying against and leaving your body residing against the bed of the room he had dragged you to several minutes earlier. — Maybe we should stop before you go back to crying like a little virgin girl like that time I was abusing yours princess parts against the wall and you were begging me not to cum inside even though you are a slut who loves to have cum dripping down your thighs.

Toji shrugged, walking over to the small table by the bedside and taking hold of a pair of shiny iron scissors while you watched him out of the corner of your eye, without the strength to stand up and prop yourself up on your elbows. When he approached you again, the hand that was not holding the object reached around your waist and pulled you to the side so that much of your hair fell out of the bed area, although your head remained partially resting on the mattress.

— W-What are... — He looked at you with one eyebrow raised, and a cruel smile appeared on his lips.

— Did you think that everything up until now was a punishment? — Toji laughed lightly and denied it with his head. — I know you are a cumslut, a painslut also, so this is your real punishment.

And then his hand started to cut small parts of your hair, making your locks uneven and asymmetrical, he wanted you to feel ashamed of yourself for letting him do whatever he wanted with your body and anything that came from or was on you as if you were his doll. Maybe, if he was in a good mood afterwards, Fushiguro would take you to have your hair done at a beauty salon. Or maybe not, if he thought you deserved public humiliation. Your eyes watered and you tried to raise your hands to stop him, vocal cords no longer had the willpower to even ask, to beg Toji to stop, but he tired you out in such a precise way. He fucked you earlier already thinking about doing this, Toji fucked you and spanked you in just the right measure to tire you enough that you had no strength left in your body to go against his further actions.

— Oh, don't cry, princess, that didn't even hurt, did it? — He whispered before running his fingers through your hair and letting the chopped strands fall to the floor before dropping the scissors against there as well and pulling your body to the middle of the bed again, your head close to the pillows and the bed’s headboard and Toji placing himself between yours legs and spreading them apart to see the entrance to your pussy still spurting some of his white liquid. — Now, hands on the headboard, I haven't finished breeding you properly yet.

[wolfpants]

sunday fic list

Hot on the heels of missing another week (thanks to a gay old time in Brighton), finally, here's my list of fics I've been loving recently! If you have something you'd like me to read - something you've loved, something you've written - please do drop me a DM! <3

<-- previous Sunday Fic List

Acts of Service (E, Drarry, 5.6k words) by @oknowkiss

Harry's sick, and Draco just wants to take care of him, but they're two idiots in love, so it couldn't possibly be that easy.

Okay, so, full disclosure, @oknowkiss and I have spent a good few hours yelling at each other about how much we love the tropes we love but I think I forgot to mention how much I fucking love a sick Harry with a caretaking Draco, and all of the whinging and banter than comes with it. This has that, plus so much more: so much love and affection and hot, hot smut. My God. This is the stuff guys!

--

Any Day Now (E, Drarry, 16.9k words), by @oknowkiss

Draco supposes he should be grateful.

The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway. Their stated objective is simple: to provide a safe space for low-tier Death Eaters and high-tier sympathisers to reconsider the entirety of their life choices. All guests–because no one is a prisoner here, the literature brags–are to be provided with shelter, food, clothing, and the guided support of a Mind Healer via a programme they call “ideological restructuring,” which is, of course, mandatory.

OR: Draco Malfoy considers the circle.

(yes, another @oknowkiss fic, so sue me tbh?!) Holy shit guys. The worldbuilding? Exquisite. The grey morality? Delicious. The sex? Delectable. The pacing? On point. Everything in this fic feels so authentic, like I could reach out and touch. It's creepy, it's sad, it's funny, it's everything I love.

--

Darling, Don't Think Twice (E, Harry/Teddy, 18k words) by @shiftylinguini

Leaving the Aurors, and then England, after his divorce with Ginny was finalised was the best thing for Harry, and for Ginny, too ― but not for the godson who worshipped the ground he walked on. Now that he’s back, all Harry wants is to set up his own place, and to spend time with Teddy as he tries to fix their fractured relationship. Teddy, however, wants something else from Harry, and there’s only so many ways Harry can tell him no. Not when he desperately wants to say yes.

This fic! This fic is freaking gorgeous! It's got so much build up and tension and a lot of dancing around each other until, when they finally do come together, it feels so authentic and earned and just frankly delicious. I'm so weak for Harry/Teddy now, and this fic was one that definitely helped ease me into this ship.

--

Good Intent (E, Teddy/James with past Harry/Teddy, 11.9k words) by @maesterchill

It all starts on the camping trip when James gets his dick out in the tent.

A very sweet, intimate fic with realistic depictions of hot sex? Yes please! The background Hardy in this is just - mmfff - to be honest, and I love the new dynamic Teddy finds with James. I'm a sucker for anything set on a camping trip, too. Wonderful stuff.

--

Men of Routine (G, Drarry, 1k words) by @graymatters

Harry and Draco's morning routine has remained unchanged for years. They see no reason to fix what isn't broken.

Oh my god! What a soft, beautiful slice of heaven this is. Older!Drarry and a glimpse into their future together. It feels so very them. Gorgeously written.

--

Stitched and Sewn (E, Drarry, 7.9k words) by @wheezykat

Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. Draco can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself.

Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.

A gorgeous depiction of miscommunication and quiet, desperate love. I read this in one sitting this morning, glued to my phone in bed, breathless with how beautifully written, paced, and painted this whole story is. My heart was squeezed tight then brought back to life.

--

Up The Road (T, Charlie/Tonks, 2.6k words) by @ruinsplume

The best way, Tonks thinks, would be to take the initiative herself. But it has to be a boy she can stand to ask, one who won’t laugh at her, one who might actually agree to what Tonks knows is a preposterous situation, even if she can’t say exactly why.

Okay. I've never really read a Tonks-centric fic before, but... this. This is it. I get Tonks here. I feel Tonks here, and this - this is a super queer and amazing fic you guys. I cannot begin to explain how important this story is, how much it read to my soul. This should be on everyone's to-read list, it's phenomenal.

--

And that's it for another Sunday! Bit of a bumper one this time, happy reading! Love you all! <3

[chaeryybomb]

nct dream reaction to their idol!reader girlfriend being shipped with another idol

anon: nct dream reaction to their idol!reader girlfriend being shipped with some other idol :) love your works btw. and thank you for this in advance

pairing: nct dream x idol!reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack

warnings: mentions of insecurities

a/n: dhsjdj technically my requests are closed rn but I decided I would write this out so I hope you enjoy this!

mark lee

confused boi™

tbh he wouldn't even notice you were being shipped with another idol until another member points it out

you were a special guest mc for the show and fans saw the cute interactions you had with the boyz juyeon

and soon enough fans started shipping the both of you together

in reality, you and juyeon were just high school friends and you were glad to see him again

fans on the other hand,,

mark didn't realise you were being shipped with juyeon until doyoung pointed it one day

and mark was all like

( ・◇・)？"nani? y/n and juyeon???"

he would then search up ynjuyeon on twitter because cough yeah

and found a shit ton of edits of the both of y'all

and now he's sad :((

he's sad that because no one shipped y'all together

"isn't your relationship a secret???"

"yeah but still :((("

mark sweetie y'all have neve interacted on stage before fjdjdndnd

he knows you love him and would never cheat on him

but boy is he going to be a pouty baby when y'all hang out next time

literally all he's going to say is:

"why do they ship you and him together?? why not me :(("

"mark they've never seen us in the same room before"

huang renjun

unbothered king™

at least that's what he tells you fhdjdj

he found out through a vlive fhdhdjj

it was one of the usernames and the username was like ynxyanan_shipper

and renjun mf squinted his eyes like

did I read that clearly ಠ_ಠ

he's like yn and wHO

chenle was beside him when it happened and chenle was like what's wrong

and renjun points out the username

and chenle starts lauGHING BECAUSE HE FINDS IT SO FUNNY

renjun smacks him on the head to tell him to shut up DHHSHDD

obviously he would take a screenshot of the username and sends it to you

and he's like

short king <3: do you hv something to confess to me

you: ,,, my love for you??

short king <3: blocked

you: HAHSAHS IM KIDDING

tbh you find the situation honestly really funny

cause you and yanan aren't exactly friends? you're more of acquaintances than friends

and you made eye contact one (1) time with him by accident at an award show and suddenly you're being shipped with him

when you call him the next time to hang out, definitely expect him to be salty about it fjdjfjd

"hey are you free to come over today?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask your BOYFRIEND yanan"

"renjun istg i will break up with you-"

lee jeno

oh baby boy is gonna be so so confused

he's going to be even more confused because you're being shipped with itzy's chaeryeong fhfhfjf

see you and chaeryeong were featured in an episode of a reality tv show once

and the both of y'all immediately hit it off and your friendship was just adorable

so y'all kept interacting every time y'all see each other

and y'all are now nicknamed as the 4th gen gfs because y'all are so adorable???

like the chaeryn ship ur most popular ship ever

so jeno is so confused?? like why is his gf being shipped with her??

he's like a whole ass puppy okay

you, on the other hand, find the chaeryn ship really cute so you don't mind it and you jokingly call chaeryeong your gf once or twice on live before fjdjfn

whenever you tell him that you're hanging out with chaeryeong, he will pout at you and give you his best puppy eyes

like he will cling onto you and try to convince you to now to go

it works like 13% of the time and you would cancel plans with chaer but most of time it doesn't and you would end up being late jhdjsh

but it will slowly become into an inside joke between y'all

like yk that one meme

"this is yn my girlfriend and her girlfriend chaeryeong"

kjdhkjshfs yeah that

but in all seriousness, jeno is really unbothered about you being shipped with chaeryeong because it basically has the same energy as him being shipped with jaemin

whenever y'all are having play fights, you jokingly threaten to leave him for chaeryeong jdsfjds and he immediately stops and says that's unfair

pls shower him in hugs and kisses later

lee haechan

definitely makes a fuss about it

i mean he knows that you aren't going to leave him and all but is he going to be dramatic about it? yes, yes he is

he finds out by himself because he was probably on twitter stalking your hashtag

when he suddenly stumbles upon and edit of you and ateez's san

he's like O.O wot is tHis?

screenshots the edit and sends it to you

hyuckie: yNNNN

hyuckie: THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

hyuckie: BABY

hyuckie: SUGAR BUM

hyuckie: DAISY PIE

you: what in, the ever loving fuck, is daisy pie

hyuckie: *sends screenshot* ARE U CHEATING ON ME

you: hyuck that pic is clearly edited

hyuckie: I KNOW BUT ARE YOU????

you: i-

he makes so much jokes about it that you literally have to shut him up with a kiss

jokes on u reader he's doing this on purpose to get those free kisses

the jokes stop when you actually finally meet san during a game show and shippers are like omg they finally interacted

and the amount of ynxsan edits just,, grow

haechan acts even salty about it and whines about why fan don't ship y'all together when y'all have made eye contact during the golden disk awards bc he was being a lil shit hdsjhfjds

"hey what if i keep staring at you during the melon so we can get into a scandal?"

"hyuck this is supposed to be a secret relationship-"

"yeah but-"

jokes on u he actually does stare at you at the next award show and thankfully did not get into any scandals, but fans started to ship the both of you!

na jaemin

the true unbothered king

literally does not care that you are shipped with someone else

because he knows that he is yours and vice versa

and plus you love him a lot so

he finds out from chenle, who did it out of spite because one day chenle was bored and wanted to cause some chaos

boi basically ran up to jaemin to shove an edit of you and treasurer's junkyu together and went like

"look hyung! ur gf is being shipped with someone eLsE"

"oh that's weird"

"rigHT"

"I thought people shipped her with treasurer's hyunsuk"

chenle is like

HUH???

"aren't you like,, jeaolous??"

jaemin just shrugs and says "hmm, not really"

jaemin knows that you are good friends wth a lot of idols because you're a social butterfly

so he truly doesn't mind when you get shipped with other idols bc in the end , he's the one holding you in his arms

plus he knows the edits and shippers are mostly harmless

and he trusts you

so he just fucks around with chenle jkldsfj

chenle is still confused bc he wants to rile jaemin up for fun but failed hjdshf

zhong chenle

if you thought haechan was dramatic, then you better buckle up for chenle's

so you see

fans already shipped u and chenle

like

y'all already have a dating scandal

and both companies tried so hard to defuse it

see you are an mc for a music show and you were interviewing nct dream

chenle, being the lil shit he is, kept giving you the heart eyes the entire time

and 6 months later, y'all got caught by dispatch on a daTe

ofc both sides were panicking but chenle was enjoying bc he's like "yeah this is my s/o and what abt it"

but y'all still had a dating ban so sm was this close in kicking him hfdsjfh

fortunately, they were able to cover it up as someone else so there's that

so chenle is aware that fans shipped the both of you together

so when he sees you being shipped with stray kid's jeongin

he was like "HOW DARE THEY-"

calls you to complain about the ship for 3 hours

and that is how you found out as well-

literally you don't even know jeongin so you just let chenle complain about it

he goes on and on about why fans should continue to ship y'all together so when he reveals the relationship the fans will be surprised but also not really at the same time-

"should i get into another scandal with you?"

"chenle no-"

park jisung

oh baby boy is going to be very, very confused

i mean he knows that shipping is a thing between fans

he's just confused why ppl would ship you and p1harmony's keeho

like you have never interacted with him so why would fans ship the both of y'all??

the dreamies mostly tell him to not take it serious but the chenle and haechan would egg him on

"get into a dating scandal with them"

"guys no-"

he wouldn't tell you that it bothers him because he doesn't want you laughing at him, worrying over a small issue

so honestly, it lowkey eats him up on the inside

until one day, you basically force it out of him because he's been acting weird for the past week

he finally confesses about the what's bothering him

and you tell him that you wouldn't have laughed at him

you know shipping idols is a common thing in the industry and sometimes it's uncomfortable knowing it when you're already in a relationship

but you also tell him that it's basically harmless because fans can't really force the both of y'all together

jisung would be insecure about the relationship because it's kinda of his first? so he just doesn't want to mess it up

just reassure him a lot and tell him that you won't leave him

and as time goes by, he just gets used to the shipping

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (2): Grading Boundaries (Fem!Reader x Nanami Kento, 7.5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: the father of one of your students requested a meeting to ask about ways of improving his son’s grades. after working with him for a few weeks, nanami wants to thank you for helping yuji out in his own personal way. 

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. oral sex (male on female and female on male), massage, nanami is just a gentleman after toji tbh.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

You oversleep the next morning and for the first time since beginning your work as Gojo’s teaching aid, the other man is at his desk before you manage to rush into the classroom. He’s relaxed, arms behind his head, feet up on the desk – and when he sees you, he gives you a cheery wave and a grin.

“Found this on the floor this morning!” He says to you, using his thumb to flip you something small and round that you only manage to catch through sheer dumb luck. You stare down at the thing you’re cradling in your palm; one of the round buttons from your blouse, that you guess you missed after Toji had left and you’d had to try and pull yourself together.

““S-sorry about that,” you babble, your mind working eighty miles a minute to think of a proper excuse. “I-it got caught on my jacket when I was getting ready to leave last night, I wondered where it had gotten to--”

“How’d the meeting with Tsumiki go?”

“Huh?” You ask, blinking down at the button still, trying to fight the heat that is crawling up your face as you shove the accusing object into the pocket of your neatly tailored jacket. “Oh! It wasn’t Tsumiki. It was Mr Fushiguro, actually. M-Megumi’s father?”

There’s a pause in the air, almost as if it’s rippling with tension. When you look up, Gojo is staring at you, his eyes implacable behind dark lenses.

“I see,” he says. “That’s unusual.”

“I gave him all the paperwork, explained the probation and everything,” you hurry to say, almost tripping over your words. You don’t like the way he’s staring at you, and you find yourself shifting from foot to foot, hoping you don’t look like someone who let their student’s father rail you over their boss’ desk. “Megumi’ll be back in school next week, and hopefully nothing like this will happen again--”

“Mm,” Gojo says. You’ve never heard him sound that serious before, ignoring the chance to poke a little fun. His voice usually pitches and modulates, laughing, before he cracks some kind of inane joke that makes you and half the class wince. “I’ve got a meeting tonight, by the way. I was hoping you’d sit in with me.”

“Please don’t palm off more of your dirty work on me,” you say to him, as you go over to your own little makeshift table in the corner of your room and begin to rifle through your bag for the things you’ll need for the day. “To-- Mr Fushiguro was kind of scary, honestly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that!” Gojo waves your worries away with a hand, immediately dismissing it. “No, it’s Yuji’s dad – he wants to talk about his grades, I think? I said I don’t think it really matters, and he got really quiet and kind of angry on the phone with me.” Gojo shrugs. Of course Gojo said something like that. You’re not sure Gojo himself has ever worried about something in his life. “Honestly, he’s a. . . businessman type. Very serious! I just want someone to diffuse the tension a bit!” Gojo grins at you. “So you’re my human shield!”

Right.

Far be it for you to think that Gojo might have an educational reason for wanting you to sit in on this meeting. Still . . . you really like Yuji. You know that sometimes his inability to understand things frustrates him – he’s constant energy, and his mind just can’t keep up with the pace of the rest of him. You’d like to help where you can! And you know that Gojo’s probably not going to be able to offer any helpful advice – his classes might work for some kids, and Yuji does really like him, but that’s a boy who would probably benefit from some individualised attention and someone a little quieter.

You don’t like the idea of him with a father who pushes him academically and doesn’t care about his other achievements. Biting your lip, you nod, busying yourself with laying out the pens on your desk and flicking through one of your training books to see if there’s anything about meetings with parents. This one, you think and hope, is definitely not going to end up the same way yesterday’s meeting did.

There’s a kind of nervous energy in Yuji all day. He drops his pen, he shoots you agonised looks until you come over to check his work, and as everyone is milling out to go to lunch, he comes to stand in front of you, kicking his toe on the floor. You smile at him, seeing how he’s vibrating, rocking on the balls of his feet – hoping that the smile might at least calm him down some.

“My Dad’s meeting with Mr Gojo tonight,” Yuji eventually blurts. Without Megumi in class to tamper down some of his more bombastic nature, Yuji’s voice pitches and wavers. “I’m-- Mr Gojo doesn’t care about grades, but my Dad’s like, ‘you should apply yourself more, you have it in you’ and . . . and I guess I’m worried?” He brings a finger to his chin, dwelling on the thought. The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s not usually aware of the idea of ‘worry’ – oh, to be a twelve year old boy!

“I know,” you say, after a proper time has elapsed to make Yuji think you’ve really dwelt on the situation. You reach into your own bag to pull out the carefully prepared lunch you have in there – you could go to the staff-room, but honestly, you’re still feeling a bit wobbly after last night’s events and you don’t want to go around into the hum of people who’ll gather you up into bubbles of small talk. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sitting in on the meeting too.” You hope your smile is reassuring. “It’s not going to be all doom and gloom, I promise.”

That actually . . . does seem to soothe Yuji.

“My grades are really bad,” he says. “I just . . . I’m not smart, y’know? Megumi knows all this stuff, and I’m just . . . dumb.”

“Being good at school stuff isn’t everything,” you say to Yuji. “You’ve got your own talents. Look at you on the sports field!” He blushes in the way young boys do when they’re being complimented by anybody, a kind of awkward ‘oh, shucks, don’t make me think that I’m good at anything’. You smile. “I’m sure your Dad understands that too.”

“Oh, he does!” Yuji’s eyes widen. You feel a little lock around your chest loosen, just a bit. There’s hero worship clear in Yuji’s eyes now. “He just thinks I should live up to my . . . what’s he call it? Full potential!” He twists his lip, and then leans in, conspiratorially. “He doesn’t like Mr Gojo. He doesn’t think he’s serious.”

Despite yourself, your lips curve into a smile. You aren’t going to trash talk your colleague to a kid that you’re in charge of, but all of the other staff just seem to roll their eyes and let Satoru Gojo get on with whatever he’s doing because apparently he was a prodigy at college or something. It’s nice to know at least someone is on your side, even if you’ll hopefully only ever see him once or twice during your whole year here.

“Don’t worry,” you say to Yuji. “I’ll try and handle it. Now, you should go! All the other boys look like they’re about to play a game of football--”

Yuji’s eyes brighten and he grins, turning away immediately, mind quickly flitting to something more pressing. He shouts a goodbye and a thank you to you even as he’s racing out of the door, almost too fast to be believed.

2.

Kento Nanami (Itadori is his ex-wife’s name, he tells you with a sigh, but the name that Yuji was born with and he’s reluctant to have it changed) is very obviously a businessman, in a well-pressed grey suit and a navy shirt, a yellow tie tight to his throat. He’s wearing suspenders beneath the jacket, an expensive watch on his wrist, and a pair of small glasses perched on a sharp nose. A solemn face, sculpted jaw. He has cheekbones that you think could cut fucking diamonds into pieces, a wave of carefully styled blonde hair over a proud forehead--

What the fuck is going on at this school that it seems like all of the dads are so hot? You do your level best not to look at him too much, as Gojo introduces you and he shakes your hand. He looks at you with his eyes narrowed just a touch; you think he’s trying to get the measure of you, and whether you’re just going to be here to back up Gojo. There’s an air of tiredness to this man that suggests he will not take any of your colleague’s nonsense, and that thought bolsters you when he puts down his briefcase and neatly folds his hands on his lap, looking from you to Gojo.

“I want to talk about Yuji’s grades,” he says, “and how we can help him improve them.”

You like him already. The way he says ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ – the withering gaze that he sets on Gojo, as the white-haired man stretches his arms out above him.

“I told you on the phone,” Gojo says. “They’re just grades--”

“Grades that will follow Yuji throughout his career in this school, and eventually to high school, and eventually to college,” Nanami’s voice is very sure of itself, cutting through Gojo with ease. “I just want to ensure that he has the best chance possible. I want to make sure he’s living up to himself.”

Gojo – fucking Gojo – stifles a yawn behind his hand, and you see that Nanami’s hand flexes on his thigh (wow, his hands are big). You cut across before the two of them can come to blows.

“Yuji’s a bright boy,” you say. “He just needs . . . a little extra help. Someone to sit with him and explain what’s going on, maybe just go over the material again.” You give Nanami a nervous smile. “He’s not the only one in the class, honestly. I-- Mr Gojo’s teaching methods can be--”

“Innovative—” (Gojo says).

“Erratic—” (Nanami says).

“Unusual,” you decide on, in the end, “and not every child is going to thrive.”

“He won’t let me ask them to move into Miss Utahime’s class,” Nanami says, wearily. “Yuji is very fond of Mr Gojo.”

(You know that, and so does Gojo; the white-haired man gives a cocky grin to both of you).

“I enjoy teaching Yuji,” you say. “He’s good-hearted, enthusiastic – he throws himself into everything he does.” Nanami’s tired eyes seem to brighten behind the glasses at the compliment to his son, his lips lifting at the corners in the briefest twitch of a smile.

“He does,” Nanami says, and it’s clear from his tone that he’s very proud of Yuji. You feel bad for thinking he might be the kind of pushy, demanding father that you’d been warned you may encounter in this profession. With Nanami in front of you, it’s clear he just wants the best for Yuji and is concerned that Gojo might not be that ‘best’. You can’t blame him. You often think Gojo behaves more like a child than half of the kids in the class. “Yes, those are all of his best qualities.”

You nervously shift your gaze to Gojo, who is waiting for your next move.

“I’d be happy to work with him,” you say, eventually. “Maybe set up some kind of . . . drop-in, for students having trouble with the work, over free periods? I won’t make them, of course, but . . . I think my methods and Mr Gojo’s are very different, Sir.”

Nanami’s shoulders relax just a touch. He stands, nodding, taking your hand to shake it.

“I don’t doubt it, Miss,” he says – and as he touches you, a frisson of electricity seems to pass between the two of you. His hands are big and surprisingly soft, and as he grasps your hand you can suddenly sense strength behind the grasp. You hope that your surprise doesn’t register in your face, as he turns and inclines his head slightly at Gojo (Gojo does not get a handshake, you do not fail to notice).

“I hope that it helps,” Nanami says, as he leaves. And honestly . . . you do too.

3.

Nanami asks to schedule a meeting with you, two weeks after you’ve begun working with some of the lower-achieving children in the class. Yuji’s grades have been improving, slowly and steadily – the boy looking at you with a grin when tests are handed back with letters far higher up in the alphabet than he’s used to getting.

“Ah, I can leave you to deal with that one,” Gojo says, grinning at you when he hears about it. “You’re the one working miracles, after all! I think Mr Nanami would just be displeased to see me sat with you, and I’m not gonna complain about not having to deal with a guy like that!”

You’re inclined to agree. So you watch Gojo leave that afternoon blithely, like he hasn’t got a care in the world – his bag is full of essays that need to be marked over the weekend, but somehow you think you’ll have a stack pressed into your own hands on Monday morning, more than a little crumpled, as Gojo insists you should get used to doing some marking yourself.

You wait for Nanami with your head in a book, steadfastly ignoring Gojo’s desk and sitting by your own table in the corner of the classroom instead. Last time you were alone with a student’s father in this room, you got to know that desk far too intimately.

Nanami is exactly on time, the second hand of the clock just ticking past the twelve as he knocks on the door and you call for him to come in. Gojo does have an office, and he’s said you can use that if you want – but the few times you’ve been in Gojo’s office, you’ve been overwhelmed by the chaotic mess that the man surrounds himself with. The classroom, if nothing else, at least looks peaceful.

Nanami sits across your table, well-mannered and polite, as you put your book down and smile.

“You wanted to talk about how Yuji’s doing?” You ask him. “It’s only been two weeks, but I think we can already see quite a bit of improvement--”

“Yes,” he says. “I think we can.”

Nanami does not heap you with praise; you get the impression that he’s not the kind of man who heaps anybody with praise. You get the impression he’s the kind of man who gives you an approving look, a pat on the shoulder, a nod – you find that you’re craving that approval yourself, looking at him across from you.

“I look at his homework sometimes,” Nanami says. “He’s getting a lot more of it himself, now. Not pulling his hair out at the dining table. You’re . . . you’re really doing a very good job, you know.”

Your insides fizz at the compliment. Gojo doesn’t give them out, either – but you’re the kind of person who occasionally needs to be told they’re doing the right thing, in order to motivate them to carry on. Nanami’s compliment carries a weight in your heart that lodges there like a secret.

You can’t remember the last time someone said you were doing a good job.

You and Nanami talk through the grading rubric, the other topics that are set to be covered before the end of term – how you’re trying to get Gojo to be a little more academic in his lessons, but it’s not working. You mention that lots of the other kids seem to be thriving under having a chance to go back over the material that your mentor occasionally skips and side-steps around, imparting his knowledge in his own particular way. Thoughts of Gojo make your mind swim with fatigue.

You hadn’t realised, until you started talking about it, but you also can’t remember your mind not being consumed by thoughts of your work at any point in the last few weeks. You’re always worrying about something; your mind always rushing from one possible bad outcome to the next. The kids, your training, Gojo, the school, the heavy weight of choosing a career where the next generation depends on you--

“You look tired,” Nanami says, his face twisted in sympathy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

You haven’t, really – thoughts of the class, and your work, and whether you’re even cut out for this as a career have been haunting you more and more recently, as you watch Gojo stumble irresponsibly from day to day. You feel like you get home, do some work for the next day, go to sleep, and immediately go to work again with nothing in between. You look at Nanami, who’s all concern, and you know you shouldn’t, but--

“I’m just getting stressed from everything happening all at once,” you say, forcing yourself to smile. “I have a lot of assessments coming up, reports I should be writing, reports that are written about me. Ah, those ones-- those are by Mr Gojo--”

“Ahh,” he looks incredibly sympathetic at that one.

“There’s just,” you falter. “A lot. And if I don’t come to work feeling my best and supporting them all, I feel like I’m letting the kids down, but I also just feel kind of bone-weary aching all of the time—”

Nanami’s hand reaches across the table, taking ahold of yours. His palms are warm and rough, and the thumb that rubs soothing circles against the base of your own is comforting. You sigh, eyelids half flickering closed.

“I shouldn’t have said anything to you,” you murmur, the small moment of intimacy (when you’ve spent the last two weeks feeling like you’re lurching from place to place and nobody is paying attention) sending a much-needed hit of comfort to the marrow of your bones. “You shouldn’t have to listen to my problems.”

Nanami’s lips tilt.

“I’d say it’s the least I could do,” he says, drily, “after everything you’ve done for Yuji – and after you’ve had to deal with Mr Gojo.” The look he gives you is quietly private, a shared in-joke between the two of you that makes you smile in response. His response almost makes you forget that he’s touching you, and though the touch is innocuous, you also know it’s unprofessional--

You stare at his hand on yours. It’s the same arm that he wears his expensive wristwatch on, and the sleeve of his suit jacket has ridden up to reveal just a hint of the shape beneath, a prominently veined wrist. Your throat goes dry looking at it, as you think of how strong he had seemed that time he’d shook your hand--

He’s looking at where the two of you are touching, too – a faint spot of red fading in high on his cheekbones. He coughs, awkward, but doesn’t move his hand. He swallows.

“You’re very pretty, you know,” Nanami says, and your body seems to flood with heat. You should say something about how inappropriate that is, thank him for coming to see you and the sweet words he’d said about how you were helping Yuji along, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to do it when he’s looking at you like that. “It sounds very hypocritical coming from me, because anyone who knows me will tell you that I don’t get enough of it myself– but you should rest more. Relax.”

You can imagine him ramrod straight behind a desk, eyes narrowed behind spreadsheets and numbers. You can definitely imagine him tired and drooping, working too hard. You smile again, helplessly, the look apologetic. You’re not very good at things like that.  

“You look stiff,” he says. “Here--”

He stands. You’d forgotten how tall he was, the breadth of him – he unbuttons his jacket neatly, laying it over the back of the chair. Without that, the width of his shoulders is really apparent. You don’t realise you’re staring until he makes a little noise, a ‘hmph’ of amusement, eyes not meeting yours, thumbs unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows.

He’s behind you.

“I’ve been told I’m good at this,” he says. “Big hands, I suppose?”

You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when those same big hands are suddenly on your shoulders, the same thumbs that were just rubbing tender circles onto your hand digging into your shoulder-blades in a massage that you feel down to your toes. You don’t realise you’ve let out a noise and relaxed back into the massage until Nanami lets out a low hum that you think is mirth.

The noise you make as he works out that persistent knot in the back of your neck is near-on pornographic, and both of you know it – heat rushing to your face, Nanami clearing his throat. If somebody walking by had heard that – if they came into the classroom, to see you getting a massage from Yuji’s father--

How do you keep getting into these situations? Nobody warned you about this part of working in a school. Why do his hands feel so fucking good on you, fingers digging into your skin – you moan again, rolling back into his touch.

There’s a clipped quality to his voice when he speaks;

“Wait a second.” Your eyes flutter open as his hands leave you, watching in distress as he walks to the door. If you’re expecting him to leave, you’re surprised when what actually happens is that he twists the lock, so nobody can walk in on the two of you doing something so. . . incongruous with both the classroom around you and the knowledge of what exactly the relationship between you is.

He gives you another one of those half-smiles and you feel a familiar throb in your lower half. Oh, this is unfair – he’s so handsome, so unruffled, so gentle as he takes back his position behind you and touches you again.

“This would feel better on your bare skin,” he murmurs, the words ghosting along you as a politely worded request, and obediently your fingers deftly unbutton your blouse without hesitation. This time, you’re glad that there’s no clatter of lost buttons on the floor – this time, you’re able to push it off your shoulders yourself. Nanami sighs as you let the fabric drop, pooling behind you in a crumpled mess. One of his fingertips traces your spine, raising gooseflesh on the sensitive skin.

“Don’t you have someone at home to do this for you?” He asks, voice soft and low like velvet, as he kneads the skin, tension draining out of you more and more with each passing minute. The question is worded carefully, but both of you know what he’s asking.

“Just me,” you say, as his hands slide forward, thumbs digging into your shoulders but fingers resting over your collarbone, his hands so big on you.

“Pity,” Nanami breathes, but it doesn’t sound like he’s particularly unhappy about it. Your breath catches as he moves from your shoulders, further, further, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast in your (sensible, today) bra. He leans forward, his lips against the shell of your ear. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you find yourself saying, and his thin lips curve into a smile that you feel.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs – and then, fingers diving beneath the cups of the bra, kneading the soft flesh, the plush of your  body. You’re relaxing bonelessly into his touch when one finger brushes your nipple, sending a frisson of electricity right to the place between your thighs. Your bra straps are slipped off your shoulders, a slight lean forward so he can unclip the thing and let it fall onto the ground. Nanami sighs, almost reverent – when he moves his hand from your chest, you feel their absence keenly, a soft noise of dismay escaping you.

“Pull your chair out,” he says. You do; the legs scraping across the floor. Nanami himself moves so he’s no longer behind you, coming around to the front – casually, unhurriedly lowering himself to his knees in front of you. He reaches up to his face and removes his glasses, laying them neatly on the table to one side of him.

His eyes drink you in and you find your skin prickling with heat. You should be embarrassed; you shouldn’t be here at all, actually, alone in your classroom (again!) with someone’s father (again!), willing to let them look at you and touch you and more (again!). But Nanami reaches in, touching you so gently, fingertips and thumbs delicate as feathers as he strokes over your breast and waist and stomach. As he leans forward and licks a slow, agonising lap over your nipple until it hardens and pebbles, your entire body thrumming with desire. As he sucks it into his mouth, teeth nipping just hard enough at the bud that your body lights on fire, before he kisses a line across your sternum to give the other nipple the same treatment.

He slides his hands past your waist, unbuttoning and unzipping your pencil skirt with one hand, the cotton pulled down over your thighs. Nanami sighs again, cupping your hips, nudging your stockinged knee with his cheek.

“You’re lovely,” he says, affectionate, and it feels so intimate that your heart beats too fast against your chest. “Can I--?” Hands against the sides of your underwear, sliding over you in a way that leaves hot trails of fire behind him. You should be embarrassed that he can clearly see the wet patch, the way the sodden fabric clings to the petals of your sex – but when he’s looking at you like that. . . You can’t make yourself feel it. You nod, sighing, lifting your hips from the seat of the chair to assist in the removal of that particular garment. A light touch on your inner thighs has you spreading your legs further for him, his eyes drinking in the slick folds, the needy glint of your wetness.

He brings his face closer, taking a long breath in, inhaling your scent. The wash of his breath across you on the exhale fans across the length of you, your clit aching with need to be touched, paid attention to. Nanami takes his time, though – your thighs are kissed, first, his lips lingering on the soft skin, suckling gentle love-bites into the flesh. Occasionally, the briefest flash of his teeth, scraping across the sensitive area – always followed by a soothe, a kiss, a lick. Every one of them makes your body bloom into warm needy desire; you can feel how wet you are, know it must be soaking the chair beneath you even before Nanami has used his mouth on you properly.

He huffs out a chuckle as you whine, your hips tilting towards his mouth.

“You want me to use my mouth?” He asks you, his tongue gently lapping at one of the places he’s kissed. “On you, sweetheart?”

“Mm—mmhmm,” you say, breathlessly, not entirely sure that your mind is able to form any coherent sentences with Nanami knelt between your thighs. He places a chaste kiss on the mound above your clit, pulling back.

“Use your words,” he encourages you. There’s a stern dominance to him; coated in fondness, yes, but . . . an order, nonetheless. “I can make you feel so good--”

“Please use your mouth on me,” you whimper, soft as a mouse. Your hand flexes onto the seat of the chair beneath your thighs, and Nanami smiles against your soaking cunt.

“Good girl,” he praises, like liquid honey – and when his tongue finally, finally makes contact with your sex, the other hand has no choice but to curl into his hair as you let out a needy mewl, all of the heat that’s been building up within you since the very first moment you laid eyes on Kento Nanami coming to a point in the crux of his lips and tongue lapping hungrily at your slick.

Your lashes flutter closed, your thighs trembling, as Nanami sates himself on the taste of you, making you relax helplessly into his talented mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing; the flat, broad strokes against the folds of your cunt, the lower dip of his tongue as he flirts with stretching your hole open with it, the teasing flick of it as it dances, dallies with the idea of your swollen clit.

You can hear the wet sounds of him between your legs, suckling and kissing and licking and lapping – not all of it’s from your slickness, you know, but an embarrassing amount of it is. His tongue pushes into your hole, thrusting a few times, imitating the actions of fingers or cock – and your thighs flex, almost squeezing him between them, your fingers tugging on his hair with a soft squeal of surprise escaping you.

The noise just spurs him on. He fucks you on his tongue for a few more thrusts, before dragging the flat of the muscle through your folds, forcefully parting them (his mouth feels so hot, there), until he can reach the throb of your clit. He uses his tongue to roll the bud, swirling the tip of the muscle around it, drawing patterns over the place that all of your hot, desperate need is concentrated. Your other hand jerks into his hair too, your hips thrusting against his hungry mouth  as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You almost white out for a minute over the sheer overwhelming sensation of Nanami’s lips sucking on you, the displacement of air – you’re panting out breathy, whimpering noises, Nanami groaning as he edges you further and further towards your peak.

Fingers on your inner thigh. Nanami’s index finger, liberally coating itself in your slick and Nanami’s spit, dragging down the length of you that isn’t currently being utterly ravaged by Nanami’s lips--

He pushes one lone finger into your entrance, and that pushes you over the edge.

Your walls flutter around him, sucking him deeper inside your plush walls. You bite so hard into your lower lip you think that you might bleed, but it only serves to quiet the moan that escapes you by a little. Nanami groans against you, pumping the finger, sucking on your clit, guiding you over the peaks and mounds of your orgasm as he continues to enjoy the taste of you gushing into his mouth, overwhelming with the syrupy sweet stickiness of just how good you taste.

He guides you, too – with careful, slowing licks, lazier pumps – through the weak aftershocks and trembles of your peak, as they come to a slowly twitching halt. Your eyes are glassy, lips swollen from bits, as he places another chaste kiss over your sensitive clit and pulls back. His finger pops out of you with a wet gush that makes you feel so embarrassed at your own neediness you can barely stand it, but between your thighs Nanami is straightening up, a smug glint to his tired eyes.

“There,” he murmurs, standing, drinking in your quivering body, the slick on your thighs, how dark and satisfied your eyes look as you gaze up at him, half-woozy from the pleasure. “Don’t you feel a little more relaxed, now?”

You’re afraid if you speak you will simply slur your words, your tongue feeling unfamiliar in your mouth. You try and focus on Nanami instead – unfairly tranquil, aside from the wet of his chin, the damp spot darkening his collar. He places the finger that was formerly buried inside you into his mouth, the glint of arousal on it consumed by him with a tilt of the head as if he’s savouring the taste.

You can’t help but notice that there’s an outline of something putting pressure on the fabric of his slacks, there, between his thighs – something that looks hard, and stiff, and uncomfortable. You blink at it through a hazy mind as Nanami goes leans over you, gently taking hold of your chin, checking that you’re alright.

“C-can I help with that?” You manage, only a little bit garbled. Nanami’s eyebrows raise in surprise, a light pink flush to his cheeks – what does he take you for? That you’d let him eat you out so well that your toes curl and then just let him leave without seeing to his own issues?

(It’s a confidence boost, honestly – knowing that he’s hard because of you. You know that this isn’t the kind of man who would fuck you on his tongue in his son’s classroom if he didn’t find you attractive, but still . . . Someone like Nanami, with those cheekbones and those lips and those shoulders, wanting somebody like you?)

“I-- ahh--” He seems nervous about it, a little flustered, clearly not expecting you to offer something like that – but then, you raise one hazy hand and gently pet his crotch through the fabric and he whistles through his teeth, the organ giving a welcoming throb beneath your hand. You swallow at how it responds, the size and heat of it.

“Please?” Plump lower lip caught between your teeth. “I’d like to repay the favour.”

He swallows, raising a hand to loosen his tie. You see the bob of his throat as he moves, pulling out the chair he was sat on before, parting his own knees.

“I’d like that,” he says, and that’s all of the encouragement you need to sink from the chair onto your shaking knees, half-crawl towards him until you’re situated between his thighs. Your hands reach up to his waist, undoing his belt buckle carefully. The heat of his cock radiates through the fabric, brushing against your arm as you undo the belt. As you undo the button. As you tug at the zipper, the noise of the teeth indecently loud. He sighs himself, a hand cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he says, repeating his earlier compliment. His eyes on your face make you feel hot and flushed, the way he watches you eagle-sharp as your smaller hands reach into his underwear to pull out his already hard cock.

He’s not as big as Toji was, but that doesn’t mean he’s not big. His cock is elegant, a light upward curve, the head ruddy pink and slick with precome – and as you lean forward and let your tongue trace the slit of it, as you taste that same precome in your mouth, he groans quietly. He brings the hand not on your cheek up to his mouth to muffle the noise, and you can’t help but pout.

“Please,” you say. “I want to hear you--”

A pause. He drops his hand, taking a chest-deep breath. His fingers slide across the apple of your cheeks – you know he must be able to sense how warm you are, how shameless and brazen you feel.

You give the head of his cock dainty kitten licks, getting used to feel of him – getting used to the soft breaths he keeps making, the way that the hand on your cheek moves to knit into your hair. You know you’re teasing him, but the way he looks down at you like you’re the one doing him a favour has you all giddy and light headed.

You envelope the head in your waiting mouth, tongue messily lapping at it. It’s been a long time since you’ve done something like this – judging from the sigh escaping Nanami’s lips, the light thrust of his hips, though, you’re not doing too bad of a job on it.

You take him a little further, willing your mouth to open wider. Your tongue is still moving against him sloppily – tracing the veins of his shaft, licking fat stripes where you can manage to get it around. You feel a trickle of drool escape your lips as you widen your mouth a bit more, so much you can feel a light ache in your jaw.

“Fuck,” Nanami breathes, deep and ragged. “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

The praise just eggs you on further, makes you want to take him deeper – makes you want to win more noises said by that dark, low voice. You push too far and have to pull back a little, your makeup smearing (you’re glad you’d foregone a darker lipstick today), your eyes watering. But you’re determined, and after you’ve managed to draw a choked breath around the cock in your mouth, you’re back on it, kissing and sucking and licking as best you can. Every so often, Nanami will groan from above you, his hips jerking, the hand in your hair guiding you just a little to the left. The other hand comes to cradle your face, so tender and careful with you.

“You feel so good,” he says, soft, like he can barely believe where you are. “Your mouth is so good, sweetheart--”

The flat of your tongue is dragged over the slit, his taste flooding your senses. You squeeze your thighs together, the friction thrilling even considering how slick your cunt still is (you’re grateful that your skirt is dark, because you know you must have soaked through your underwear).

His hips are moving more regularly now, but you can tell that he’s still holding back – that he doesn’t want to roughly fuck your throat, though he easily could. You look up at him with your eyes dark and wide, your lashes trembling, trying to get across that it’s alright for him to do that without having to stop hungrily licking and sucking at his cock. He sees your gaze, your lips wrapped around him, your cheeks hollowed in your attempts to impress, and he breathes out a shaking exhale.

“Is it really okay?” He asks you. “I don’t want to hurt you--”

You hum your affirmative around his cock and his eyes roll back into his head for just a moment, groan escaping his parted lips again, as he begins to rock his hips into your mouth. You gag around it at first – so big, so thick, even though he’s not going that fast yet – but as he begins to pick up his pace, your mouth gets used to moving in tandem with his thrusts and the tugs on your hair.

The ache in your jaw begins to be pleasant; you begin to feel like you’re meant to have it open that wide, that the bump of his cockhead against the back of your throat is right and perfect. His face is flushing, his breath getting shaky – whistling in his chest.

His chest. You stare at the bare collar above the buttons of his shirt, the lean shadows of his collarbone – you think, judging by the broadness of his shoulders, he’s probably built beneath there. You’d love to find out. You’d love to be somewhere other than in the classroom with this man, somewhere where you could learn his body by heart, where the floor beneath your knees isn’t quite so hard--

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers tightening so hard that you groan, your throat vibrating around his cock. “Sweetheart, my good girl, I’m gonna--”

You hear the warning in his voice and you suck harder, swirl your tongue faster, coaxing him forward – his abdomen flexes under the shirt, his cock juddering in your mouth, pulsing as your mouth suddenly fills with the hot, wet, salty and unmistakable taste of Nanami’s come--

You keep sucking. You keep licking, swallowing pump after pump, draining forth every single drop of his release that you can until he’s shuddering and his cock is softening, his head thrown over the back of the chair to reveal the tempting column of his throat.

He’s taking deep breaths, great heaving ones that his shoulders move in time with, as the last few thunderbolts of his release travel through his body and he groans in the pleasured way that someone who has orgasmed their worries away does.

Nanami’s hand in your hair eases, his breaths evening out from the shakes and groans. His fingers are quiet and affectionate, as you pull back, swallowing the final few drops of his release. He looks down at you with those intense eyes half-lidded, his face briefly free of lines and stress and worry. He sighs, hand diving into the jacket still hung on the chair behind him – when the hand emerges, he’s holding a handkerchief, that he brings up to your face like a lover.

Tenderly, he wipes a bead of his come from the corner of your mouth. The action is so warm, so fond, that you can barely breathe for looking up at him. You feel like you’re knelt at some kind of altar – that Nanami had prayed to you, and now you are responding with your own supplication.

“Are you alright?” He asks you. “Your knees? Your mouth?” He’s so gorgeous; unfairly picked out under the classroom lights, like he doesn’t belong here at all. In another world, he’s avenging like an angel with a weapon in his hand. Now, he’s softly rumpled with his shirt unbuttoned and one of his suspenders fallen down his shoulder, his knees spread wide.

“Yes,” you breathe. He smiles again – he does not grin. His mouth is just a light uptilt, as he leans forward and brushes his lips over your own.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, the words sending another shiver down your spine. “Do you need some help getting dressed?”

You rise onto unsteady legs and Nanami is there, supporting you carefully, rising with you. He rescues your skirt, your bra – deft fingers re-doing buttons, catching eyes with hooks, zipping up until you look – if not immaculate – at least presentable. Someone who had seen you this morning would probably recognise that your skirt is creased and your blouse is crumpled, that your hair is falling around your face--

Nanami’s fingers capture those strands too, tucking them back behind your ear, smoothing them out. Every single sweep and caress of his fingers makes you feel like you’re about to break into pieces from how soft you feel, how cherished. It’s a stark difference to how you had felt after Toji had swung out of your classroom, leaving you prone and leaking his come.

He leaves you, after you’ve regained your balance, to get your bag and coat, to grab the book you had been reading before this meeting had commenced – and he sets himself to rights with a calm, assured aura. If someone looked closely at him, you think perhaps they’d notice the tie not quite as tight, the hair not quite as neatly swept from his brow – you yourself can barely take your eyes off him. Is there something in the water in this town?

He grasps his briefcase, clips his glasses into the top pocket of his suit jacket instead of placing them back on his nose. His entire being seems to have lost tension, his eyes not quite as tired, his shoulders not quite as strained. As he finished, he comes to stand beside you – an arm gallantly curving around your waist just loosely enough that the touch could be read as friendly and not romantic. As the two of you walk across the classroom, he says quietly;

“You really should relax, you know. You don’t have anything to worry about. Yuji adores you, and I’m sure the rest of the children do too.”

(Your cheeks heat, the compliment warm and convincing in the sonorous bass of Nanami’s voice).

“Even Gojo isn’t permanent,” he says. “Anybody would be lucky to end up with you.” A cough. “That’s . . . as a teacher and in other ways.”

He pauses at the door, unlocking it with a final click that feels like he is saying that this little adventure has truly come to its natural end. His eyes linger affectionately on your face, a brief touch of hesitation colouring his features – before, once more, he leans in and brushes his lips against yours with a feather-soft touch that has you gasping in surprise against his mouth. The hand not on the briefcase takes your own hand, fingers entangling, and if you had thought your face was warm before, you’re quickly taught that you didn’t know what heat was.

He draws back a little breathlessly.

“I hope you’ll continue working with Yuji,” he says, sincerely. “And perhaps, if it’s agreeable to you-- perhaps we could schedule a catch-up meeting in a few weeks? So I may see. . . how things are progressing?”

“Of course, Sir,” you say, words very breathy.

When you get home tonight, and probably for the next few weeks, you’ll take a really good look at the grading rubric. You know. For the kids. Not because of Nanami’s sharp cheekbones and wicked tongue and the glint that had been in his eye when he had pressed his mouth against your heated core – not because of how his cock had felt heavy and thick in your mouth, and how it would feel pressed inside of you--

Nope. Not at all.

Definitely for Nanami’s son.

[moxfirefly]

So an ask @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak got really has me thinking. So I’m hoping on the train and giving my own two cents on the guys with an s/o who’s ovulating and what goes down.

@tmntspidergirl did her own version so give it a looksie and some love!!

Liste my peeps, wow, what y’all getting yourselves into

Donnie KNOWS, ok and it’s not just cause he’s the smarty pants of it. You once told him when you were on your period and boy just made the calculations and knows when the next cycle happens

But here’s the thing, the little issue. The first time you spend a week with him post menstruation and ovulating?

You know somethings off with him. He’s acting all off and he’s so grabby with you especially in public (like in front of his brothers) I mean this man is straight up making you sit on his lap, he’s pawing at you and when did he become ok with kissing you like t h a t in front of people?

Don’s a private lad when it comes to you and his alone time

But he’s got you pinned against the sink one night while you were doing the dishes. And he’s so tall like when he leans down and nuzzles your ear and inhales the life out of you when he noses your hair the shivers my dudes

‘I wanna put a baby in you’ he whispers against your ear

Well you just broke Leo’s tea mug

‘Excuse me??’ You try to turn your head but he presses you hard against the sink and his hands slide to your stomach

‘You heard me’ and it’s such a territorial tone like you have to make sure this isn’t Raph and some fever dream. But not it’s Donnie, your big lovable nerd and why are you so for this idea all of a sudden?????

Let’s just say when you end up in his bed, Donnie absolutely railing the life out of you. Not once, not twice but an amount that leaves you so close to drunk on your own dopamine that you’ve forgotten how to speak properly

You don’t question when this large fucking terrapin is holding your legs to your chest after spilling himself in you.

He’s breathing so hard, sweaty and grinning ‘Don’t move love, keep all of me in you’

You nod breathlessly not even registering what he’s just said but boy do you not move an inch until he tells you that you can

Drunk Drunk Drunk off your scent

I can’t even begin to explain

He’s in a stupor almost

Mikey.exe has stopped working

He’s lowkey confused tbh like yes you’re hot but f u c k what is it about today that has you so HOT™️

He’s so transfixed by you that you gotta ask

‘Ok do I have something on my face? Is there a stain on my shirt??’

Mikey is just eying you up and down and shakes his head

He scoots closer to you and he’s not rocking that goofy smile. He’s legit studying you. It’s so bizarre seeing him so hyper focused and serious.

And obviously you’re somewhat alarmed when he straight up starts sniffing you

Your neck, your shoulders, your chest

When he starts trailing down your stomach and you’re alarmingly looking around the living room cause MIKEY PEOPLE

It takes all of your resolve and actual praying when he just straight up buries his face in your clothes crotch and the ‘holy shiiiiiit’ and full body shudder that leaves him to not moan out into the open living room

The movie is background noise at this point and whatever has taken over your orange clad boyfriend is somewhat worrisome but not at all un welcomed

Especially when you find yourself trying to muffle your noises because Mikey had straight up slide you down the makeshift couch and onto the floor. Crawled over you and begged to be inside of you

Begged, like he was going to die if this didn’t take place immediately

It’s so not you and his usual style, there isn’t the usual flirting and playful dirty talk Mikey gives you. He straight up telling you that he will Protect you, if anybody goes near you or tries something against you, omg they gonna be d-e-a-d. This lad has never been this serious.

He’s promising you everything. You’re his, and he is yours.

‘Your my mate baby, you’re my mate oh god’ and how is such a simple word turning you into actual goo??

My condolences to your cervix seriously bro r.i.p pour one out for that homie

But here’s the thing and ima do it to y’all

Sub!Leo has entered the chat

This is a time period you must take full advantage that he’s not gonna lowkey embarrassed about his subby tendencies

He’s ready for you to boss him, use him, make him beg and plead for you

All with the most stupidfied and endearing precious look on his face

So obviously you’re convinced that maybe he’s having one of those days™️ cause Leo has days where he needs to to take over (we can delve into that subject later my dudes)

And in this state he’s been all afternoon while visiting you has been weird but naturally y’all end up in the bedroom

And you end up riding him (which he absolutely fucking loves when he’s being a freaking sub)

And god he’s so mesmerized with your hips tonight, grabbing them. Pushing you harder down on him (because he’s allowed per your commands) he wants to bury himself so painfully in you, he’s a man possessed about it

He begs for it, begs for you to allow him to push into you more and more ‘please please’ he says and he looks like he’ll go mad if he doesn’t

So you allow him to switch you guys up

He’s on top but he’s still not running the show

‘You’re so good baby- fuck Lee yes yes’ and he is hiiiiigh of that and your scent how are you smelling this good, feeling this good? It’s more than the usual senses that he’s experienced with you

And I hope you don’t become a complete puddle when this lad starts pleading

Pleading™️

Fearless Leader himself yes you heard it here first folks

He’s pleading to cum inside of you, an absolute mess, he wants to mate with you, he wants to make you round with his child. He wants all of this only if only you allow it

He coos just how beautiful and glowing you would look and wow does the very thought of it make his thrust so pathetically sloppy

You’ve never felt so empowered then watching Leo cum completely undone and bury himself so far in you unwilling to pull out because he wants every last drop in you

‘I’m yours, I’m yours...please have me’ he sounds almost drunk

You hold him so close, kiss all up on him and tell his trembling self you’ll gladly carry half of him and you inside of yourself

Your legs have left the chat

You don’t know what being vertical means

Hi possessive Raph™️

Hi territorial Raph™️

The only time on the clock is baby making time

He is living, breathing and eating up your scent

Hooked on it, that shit is a drug to him and if you think his sex drive was high before

R.I.P to you my friend

This man isn’t letting you leave the bed unless it’s for a bathroom break and some Gatorade and a protein bar

No area is safe in your house. He is going to fuck you in every part, against and/or on any possible surface

It’s just a primal lightbulb turned on to the brightest setting in his head

All he knows is that he has to mate you, mark you and knock you up

All his dirty talk is focused on knockin you up. He wants to make a mother out of you, he wants you big and round with his child

And it ain’t gonna be one 😅

Big bara wants a bunch and he’s gonna do everything in his ability to give you a good amount in the first round

Seriously I fear for your well-being

But you’re absolutely OBSSESED with this side of him 🥴