WARNING: Cancer, medical trauma, serious illness, hospitals, discussion of disability and mortality, fundraising. Previous Post for context.
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So. It’s cancer.
For those of you following along, I've been undergoing an extensive workup to determine the cause of my Horner's Syndrome. There were a dozen possible explanations. Instead, the scans uncovered something I never expected.
The cruelest irony is that I was hoping to celebrate my five-year anniversary as a survivor of endometrial cancer in August. I couldn't wait to use the words "cancer free." Almost made it.
Instead, it's a malignant Pancoast tumor at the top of my lung that has already worked its way into my T1 vertebra and first rib. It is rare, aggressive, and wrapped around major blood vessels. My bones are literally being eaten; because of the structural location, I am at risk of paralysis.
My first oncology appointment is Monday, and the truth is, I am terrified.
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Because of the heart attack I just had, the treatment plan—likely simultaneous chemo and radiation before surgery—is a massive gamble. Even the biopsy carries a risk of stroke. I am trying to preemptively organize my care because I know whatever happens next is going to be bad. My decisions moving forward aren’t just about standard treatment; they are about whether my body can even endure being systemically dismantled, and what kind of quality of life will be left on the other side of it.
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The strangest part is looking in the mirror. I look into the glass and I just see my normal self looking back—in my my favorite Ramones t-shirt and cute Summer bob. Maybe looking a little tired, but completely intact. Assumptions get made about people in this position, like a diagnosis instantly overwrites who you are. Four years ago, I was a C-suite executive flying family to Vail. Today, I am still entirely myself, just trapped inside a brutal trajectory and trying to make peace with the math while dealing with the fact that my doctor is 50 miles away.
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I am a Medicaid patient with no car, an estranged family, and zero dollars. The state-provided transportation service has stranded me four separate times now, including this week. Missing Monday is not an option. When the van fails, a round-trip Uber is $100 to $140. There will be at least four or five of these critical appointments in the next few weeks alone just to figure out what happens next.
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I’m putting the Ko-fi link below. I need to raise $500 to ensure I can actually get into the room to make these choices. If the state van actually shows up, the funds will help with groceries, and assistive equipment not covered by insurance.
It is incredibly difficult to ask for help, but I desperately need it.
Support Riff's Oncology Transit Fund 💜
Count on me to continue making thirsty edits as long as my little fingers allow. I love reading your fics and admiring your artwork. This is the best fandom and I love you all so much. 🫶
Summer Affair: Part 2 | Harry Castillo x F!Reader/“You” | ~5k Word Count
SUMMARY: Harry joins you on the rest of your summer trip, and a week in Portugal shifts the romance in a very passionate direction.
RATING: E.
TAGS: No use of y/n, reader has the nickname (Sol) that is used sparingly, summer vibes, traveling rich people style, harry is flaunting his money in a hot way, infidelity (reader is married), smut, unprotected p in v because who wouldn’t want to take that man raw, somnophilia, dubcon if you squint, oral (m!receiving), titty fucking, pull out method *crowd boos*, if I forgot to tag anything else please let me know, more tags found on series masterlist.
A/N: oh to be whisked away into paradise by a handsome rich man who wants nothing more than to fund your happiness. i hope you all enjoy this chapter, hehehehe 🖤 reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you for reading!
P.S. series masterlist. read on ao3. header credit to @/devociones.
Harry has extended his stay, which makes the rest of your time in Monte-Carlo wonderful.
Your days are filled with his amazing company, and you take full advantage of all the amenities offered by the luxury resort.
At night you’re taking walks along the promenade where Harry buys you gelato and feeds you bites between kisses.
For the first time in years, his calendar bends to someone else’s whim—yours.
He watches you from across the table at the sprawling garden where you’re having brunch, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh pastries drifting on the breeze.
You laugh at something he said, head tilted back, sunlight catching the necklace resting against your collarbone.
“You and this whole staring thing. If you weren’t so attractive, it’d be kind of creepy,” you tease, popping a blackberry into your mouth. Your bare foot brushes his ankle under the table, innocent… and not.
He reaches across to wipe some of the powdered sugar from the french toast at the corner of your mouth, letting his thumb linger. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up back in my office, realizing this was all a daydream.”
Your eyes trace over his sincere expression. “Then let’s stay in the daydream a little longer, Harry.”
He’s never wanted anything more.
That evening at the renowned Casino de Monte-Carlo, you stand beside him at the roulette table in a silky slip of a dress, your shoulder brushing his arm every time you lean in to place a bet.
He teaches you the rhythm of baccarat, his hand covering yours on the cards, voice low against your ear.
“Feeling lucky?”
“Always.” Your smile is wicked, making him want to pull you into a shadowed alcove and kiss you breathless. So he does just that.
You haven’t slept together, and somehow that makes every touch and shared glance feel so thrilling.
The wait is its own kind of foreplay.
He’s falling for you and it’s only been what, a couple of days? It’s ridiculous, he reminds himself of that any time he’s alone and you’re not there to distract him from being logical.
You both have lives to get back to once this is all said and done, so all he can do is push whatever he’s feeling to the side and continue to enjoy the time he does have with you.
You do the same, keeping the real you tucked away along with the ever-growing sentiments he elicits.
This is an escape meant to be free any stress or drama. Nothing but beautiful views, amazing food, and this charming, generous man who looks at you like you painted the stars.
One lazy afternoon, Harry finds you by the resort pool again, film camera in hand as you snap photos of the landscape and architecture that surrounds you.
“Hello gorgeous,” he greets, leaning down to place a kiss at the crown of your head, dropping into the lounger beside yours.
His linen shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show a tempting glimpse of his broad, tanned chest. “I bought something. For us.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “For us? Okay, you’ve got my attention. What is it?”
He chuckles, that rich, warm sound you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “A yacht.” He says it so casually, like purchasing a luxury vessel on a whim is nothing. Your jaw drops.
“Harry… you can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and affection. “What do you say? Come out with me this afternoon so you can see it. We can sail along the coast, swim, have lunch on deck…”
The idea is ridiculous. Extravagant. Perfect.
You bite your lip. He’s truly pulling out all the stops, which you don’t mind at all, but you hope that he knows he doesn’t have to flaunt his money like this just to impress you.
Maybe you should express that to him later, when you’re not buzzing with excitement to actually be out on the water today, and very curious to see what the hell he just bought.
“I’d love that.”
He loves the way your eyes light up when The Daydreamer comes into view at the marina—a beautiful pearl color with sleek navy lining, polished teak decks, the name painted in elegant golden script.
You practically bounce on your toes as you board, fingers trailing along the railings in awe.
“Harry… this is yours? For real? You just… bought it?” you stop short once you make it to the deck, jaw dropping in pure delight at the view it offers.
This thing must have cost him a fucking fortune.
“For us. For right now.” Seeing you like this makes every penny spent worth it.
“I can’t believe it. She’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he steps closer, hands settling lightly on your waist from behind as you both face the open sea.
“I’d be a fool not to.”
You’re so soft and warm pressed up against him, the breeze sending your perfume straight into his brain like the sweetest aphrodisiac.
The sexual tension is slowly killing him. He could take you right here, nice and deep, your cries of pleasure swallowed by the sound of waves crashing into each other.
Instead he savors the lead up, not making any moves until you’re comfortable enough to take that next step. If it’s even something you want to do.
Regardless, he’s content with having you any way in which you’ll let him.
After giving you a tour of the yacht and introducing you to the small crew that’s on board, you set sail.
The sea sparkles under the afternoon sun as you both change into swimwear. He’s taken aback every time he sees you, but when you’re in your pretty little bikinis—Harry has to blink away the lustful visions he has of fucking you while the fabric barely clings to your body.
This time is no different.
“My eyes are up here.”
“I’m not necessarily trying to look at your eyes right now.”
You can’t help but playfully roll your eyes, a flirty smile on your lips as you take his hand in yours and pull him up the stairs and onto the deck where the crew is finishing up anchoring where you’ll be swimming for the afternoon.
Harry watches you dive gracefully off the side, your laughter ringing out as you surface.
He follows, the cool water a shock against heated skin. When you swim to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, legs brushing his underwater, he feels something settle deep in his chest.
This is what he’s been missing. What he was fruitlessly looking for with Lucy.
Back on deck after being in the beautiful ocean for a few hours, you towel off and slip into a light cover-up, the fabric clinging slightly to your still-damp skin.
Harry looks effortlessly handsome in his swim trunks and unbuttoned shirt, his curly hair tousled by the sea breeze.
The staff has set a beautiful table on the shaded aft deck: chilled prosecco, platters of fresh seafood and bowls of ripe summer fruits.
He feeds you a slice of orange, its juice dripping down his fingers. You catch his wrist gently and lick it clean, eyes trained on him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game here.”
You smile, slow and knowing. “I know.”
As the sun dips lower, painting the horizon in golds and pinks, he feels the words rising—stay with me longer, let me follow you to the next city.
Harry pours more wine into your glass. “So, tell me more about the rest of your trip,” he leans back, looking at you with that warm, attentive gaze that makes your stomach flutter. “Where are you headed after Monaco? What’s the grand plan?”
You take a sip of the crisp beverage, savoring the way it fizzes on your tongue.
“It’s pretty loose,” you admit with a soft laugh, spearing a prawn with your fork. “I’m thinking Portugal next—Lagos, specifically. Those dramatic cliffs and hidden beaches are too beautiful to not experience. Then Ibiza to see if clubbing there is as fun as everyone claims it is.”
His brows raise at that. Harry can already picture you drunk and in a beautiful dress, dancing the night away under colorful strobe lights.
“Sicily for its rich history, and Mykonos to end on something… dreamy. There’s no strict itinerary. Just… chasing the sun, collecting experiences along the way… figuring out what I really want.”
Harry listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches how charmingly expressive you are.
It stirs something protective and eager in his chest. These past days with you have been a revelation—a lightness he hasn’t felt in years.
He doesn’t want this to end when the weekend does.
“That sounds incredible,” he drains the last of his prosecco as the words from earlier dance on the tip of his tongue again.
Harry takes your hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“I like you. A lot. More than I probably should after such a short time.” He chuckles softly, a touch self-deprecating, but his brown eyes hold yours steadily. “I’d love nothing more than to fund the summer trip of your dreams. Flights, hotels, excursions—whatever you need. Regardless if I join you or not. It doesn’t matter to me. No complicated nonsense. I just… I want to make sure you get every bit of joy you’re chasing.”
Your heart skips at his words, warmth blooming across your chest that has nothing to do with the setting sun.
He’s offering the world so casually, like it’s the most natural thing.
Part of you—the careful, guarded part still tangled in a failed marriage back in Texas—knows the risk that comes from this.
But the other part? The one that’s been starved for spontaneity, for real connection, for him… that part wants so much more.
No expectations except for a good time. You are capable of enjoying the fantasy and slipping away when summer ends.
“Harry… that’s incredibly generous. More than I could ever ask for.” You squeeze his hand. “I don’t want you to think that you need to do all of this to keep me interested.”
“I like spending my money on you.”
Is it materialistic of you for the butterflies in your stomach to go into a frenzy?
This kind of chance—with a man like Harry, on yachts and private adventures—won’t come again.
“These last few days have been so perfect. I can’t imagine chasing the rest of this summer alone now. Not when you make it so much better.”
Relief and joy flood through him as you agree to his proposal.
He stands, pulling you up with him into a slow, deep kiss right there on the deck, the taste of orange citrus and wine lingering between your lips.
His arms wrap around you, holding you close.
“Then it’s settled,” he murmurs against your lips. “We’re doing this. Portugal, Spain, Italy, Greece—all of it. Together.”
The private jet touches down in Faro the following afternoon.
Harry’s hand rests warmly on your thigh the entire flight, his thumb tracing lazy circles that send little sparks dancing across your skin.
You’ve never traveled like this—the private jet is somehow just as ridiculously luxurious as the yacht.
A beautiful antique car waits on the tarmac when you arrive. The driver loads your bags while Harry helps you into the back seat, stealing a quick kiss once the door closes.
Your head rests on his shoulder as you ride to your destination, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty breeze slipping through the cracked window.
The car winds down a lone coastal road, the rugged cliffs giving way to a hidden stretch of paradise.
When you finally reach the private beach he’s secured for the stay, your breath catches.
It’s a secluded cove of soft golden sand curving gently into the sea, framed by dramatic ochre cliffs draped in wildflowers and fragrant pines. Waves lap lazily at the shore, the water so clear you can see the pebbles beneath.
A few discreet workers have set up shaded loungers and a cabana with expensive white linens. It feels like your own private slice of heaven—far from the bustling main beaches.
The Daydreamer waits at the edge of the cove like an old friend, anchored in the gentle shallows, her white hull gleaming against the vivid blue.
You’ll be staying aboard her instead of in a hotel—sailing straight from Lagos to Ibiza at the end of the week.
The private beach was worth every last minute arrangement. Harry made the plans the moment you agreed to let him join you, wanting to give you the kind of escape you deserved.
“Wow.”
“It really is a sight. Come on, let’s get you settled so we can lay out.”
You let him guide you, eyes unable to stay focused on anything as the beautiful scenery almost makes you emotional.
You can’t believe this is really happening.
Over the next few days, Harry enjoys watching you explore Lagos. The city’s narrow cobblestone streets and whitewashed buildings splashed with colorful azulejo tiles feel like the perfect backdrop for what is going on between you.
You wander hand-in-hand through bustling markets, stopping for fresh pastéis de nata and strong espresso, laughing as seagulls swoop overhead in an attempt to pick a bite of your snacks.
One afternoon, as you stroll a lively street lined with different businesses, Harry notices your lack of a smartphone.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask… you only use a little flip phone and those cameras. No laptop, no big phone. How do you manage?”
You smile, fidgeting with the strap of your camera. The warm air lifts your hair as you look up at him, his brown eyes curious.
“It’s my no-screen rule for the trip,” you explain. “I left everything else behind. Just this burner for emergencies and my cameras to document everything. I wanted to really be here, you know? Not staring at a screen the whole time.”
Harry’s expression softens with genuine admiration. “I respect that. Truly. I wish I could unplug like you. But I’m too involved in work for that.”
His words hit a little too close to home, reminding you of Joel—always working, always reachable, the job swallowing up evenings and weekends until there was nothing left for the two of you.
The comparison stings, but you brush it away quickly, refusing to let old shadows touch your golden afternoon.
“Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from me,” you joke, tugging Harry toward a charming little gift shop with colorful displays spilling onto the street.
“Come on. I want to check this out,” you add brightly, pulling him inside. The shop smells of aged paper and spices. Shelves overflow with postcards, magnets, handmade jewelry, and local trinkets.
He follows you happily, charmed by your enthusiasm. Inside the shop, you pick up a delicate ceramic tile and turn it over in your hands.
“I’m collecting stamps and little things like this from everywhere I visit,” you hold on to the tile, searching the shelves. “For a scrapbook I’m making. Something tangible to remember this summer by.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he steps behind you, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist as he helps you look.
“I’ll keep an eye out. Whatever you want for your craft. I want you to have the perfect collection.”
You turn in his arms, eyes sparkling as you kiss him softly, right there between shelves of eccentric magnets and postcards. The shopkeeper smiles knowingly in the background.
“Thank you, Harry,” you whisper against his mouth. “For all of this. For seeing what this trip means to me.”
He doesn’t reply with words, instead he kisses you again, slower, deeper, the kind of kiss that promises more once you’re back on the yacht’s private deck under the stars.
As you leave the shop with a small bag of treasures and Harry’s arm draped around your shoulders, you let yourself sink fully into the blissfulness of the moment.
Harry didn’t mean to fall asleep after your early dinner.
After getting the preparations ready for your sail to Spain in the morning and dismissing the crew for the night, he dozed off on one of the wide cushioned loungers on the deck, the sun slowly descending and painting the sky with a magnificent sunset.
You decided not to wake him. Instead, a wicked little plan bloomed in your mind as you slipped below deck for a quick shower.
You changed into the sage green lingerie set you bought in Monaco just for this moment—delicate lace hugs your curves and the color compliments your sun-kissed skin.
After much deliberation—you decided you didn’t care what came out of taking this affair the whole way.
You haven’t had sex in… you don’t even know how long it’s been. You’re starving for that intimate affection, and it’s no secret that Harry wants you just as badly.
You’ll deal with the repercussions later. For now, you’re about to get some.
A silk robe slides over your skimpy outfit, and you dim the deck lights to set the mood. Enough sunset still lingers to bathe everything in a romantic haze before full nightfall.
You tiptoe over to where he is, careful not to wake him yet. He looks so peaceful like this: lashes resting against his cheeks, those soft curls tousled and inviting, his pouty lips framed by the neatly trimmed facial hair that makes him look impossibly handsome.
Carefully, you sink to your knees in front of the lounger, angling your body so your face is level with his lap. His strong thighs flex as he shifts slightly in sleep, and you hold still until you’re sure he won’t stir.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps despite the warm evening air, anticipation thrumming low in your belly.
Your hands glide slowly up and down his thighs, then gently massage the bulge beneath his shorts. He feels big and your core throbs with need the more you tease him.
Leaning in, your lips press soft kisses just above the waistband where his shirt has ridden up, tasting his warm skin and feeling the happy trail leading downward. You continue massaging, lips brushing tenderly until he hardens fully under your touch.
Harry lets out a soft grunt, hips bucking lazily. Unable to wait any longer, you carefully free his cock through the front of his shorts.
Your eyes widen at the sight—impressive length curving upward, flushed from your attention, thick enough to know he’s going to feel incredible inside you.
But first… you need a taste.
Your eyes flit up to see him still blissfully unaware of what you’re up to. You stick your tongue out to run it slowly up his warm, salty skin, moaning at the taste.
You continue, licking, kissing gently, placing open mouthed kisses all over his cock while he sleeps.
Harry’s dream bleeds into reality as pleasure surges through him. His eyes flutter open to the breathtaking sight of you on your knees, silk robe slipping off one shoulder, mouth wrapped around him.
“Sol…” he groans, voice hoarse with sleep and sudden lust. His head falls back against the cushion as you take him deeper, earnest and eager, gagging softly when his tip hits the back of your throat.
One hand trails down to cup the nape of your neck, not guiding, just holding reverently. “Fuck, baby… what are you doing to me?”
You pull off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and stroke him firmly with one hand while the other tugs open your robe.
The lace set is revealed in the fading sunlight—your breasts barely contained in the bra, the matching panties damp from how aroused you are from sucking him off.
Harry curses under his breath, eyes darkening with desire. “Look at you… so fucking gorgeous. Especially like this, with my cock in your hand.”
You smirk, shrugging the robe fully off your shoulders before undoing the front clasp of your bra. Your full breasts spill free, bouncing softly as you deliberately shake them for him, still stroking his length with teasing pressure.
“Let’s get you out of these,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes at him.
He obliges, lifting his hips to help shove his shorts down far enough to fully reveal his manhood.
Leaning forward, you let a generous string of spit fall onto his cock, lubing him before sliding his hot, hard length between your tits.
The sensation makes you both moan.
You press your breasts together tighter, sliding them up and down his shaft in long, indulgent strokes. His cock throbs between them, the flushed head peeking out with every downward glide, smearing precum across your cleavage.
You dip your head and lick the tip each time it emerges, sucking greedily on the head while your tits continue to work him. The way he grunts makes you clench around nothing. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.
Your nipples are tight and hypersensitive, slick smearing over your pussy lips as you rub your thighs together, watching his face contort in pleasure.
“You’re incredible,” Harry rasps, hips grinding up into the tight, warm channel of your breasts.
An enthralling smirk ghosts over your lips at his praise, which makes you move faster, the slick glide growing messier.
You take the head back into your mouth, sucking hard, determined to push him right to the edge but not fully over.
Harry tenses beneath you, his strong thighs flexing hard as his orgasm builds, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. His fingers firmly cup your neck again, pulling your talented mouth off his throbbing cock with a wet pop.
Strings of saliva and precum stretch between your swollen lips and his flushed tip before breaking.
You look up at him with a saccharine pout. “I was having fun.”
“Trust me, baby,” he lets out a ragged breath. “Fun’s not over yet.”
You bite your lip and giggle excitedly as he sits up in one fluid motion, reaching for you. He pulls your half-naked body flush against his, your damp panties pressing directly over his dick.
You grind down instinctively, the hot, wet friction making you both moan.
The sea breeze kisses your bare breasts, the distant waves providing a sensual ambiance.
He captures your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, tongue slipping inside to taste the sweet remnants of the fresh peaches you’d been eating mixed with the salty musk of his own cock.
It’s both filthy and intoxicating. His hands roam desperately over your curves, gripping the supple flesh of your ass and guiding your grinding hips, bucking up so his length drags against your clothed sex, the fabric barely a barrier so he can feel just a bit of flesh from your pussy.
“You ever been fucked on a boat before?”
You laugh breathlessly, the sound melting into a needy moan as he kisses down the column of your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point while his hands knead your ass rougher.
“No,” you gasp.
“You’re about to be.”
Before you can catch your breath, Harry maneuvers you with surprising strength and grace. He turns you around, positioning you perfectly against the sleek railing of the yacht.
You grip the warm, polished metal tightly, back arched, facing the breathtaking disappearing sunset over the cove.
The golden and pink light spills across the water, the cliffs glowing softly in the distance.
His fingers hook into your ruined panties and he slides them down your legs, leaving you completely bare for him.
“Harry…” you whine as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses and gentle bites along your shoulder.
His cock, still wet from your mouth and tits, slides teasingly up and down your dripping slit. The fat head rubs tight, maddening circles over your engorged clit, making your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble.
“You know, I wanted our first time to be a little more romantic,” he murmurs against your skin, almost condescendingly in the hottest way. He continues to drag his cock between your pussy lips again and again, coating himself in your arousal.
“Candles, flowers, a nice big bed with silk sheets so I could spread you out and taste you until you’re in tears, begging me to fuck you.”
Your thighs quiver violently, your cunt clenching around nothing as his words make you delirious with need.
“Please, Harry,” you beg now, pushing your hips back, swaying them enticingly. “I need you.”
He notches the head of his cock right at your entrance and pushes in with one smooth, powerful thrust.
Your pussy swallows every inch, stretching deliciously around him until he bottoms out. You both let out long, shuddering moans of pure pleasure.
His large hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he leans forward, forehead resting against your shoulder blade.
He gives you deep, steady strokes that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, each movement making your breasts bounce with the rhythm.
Harry fucks you like he’ll never get the chance to again. All of the pent up sexual tension releases with every impassioned thrust.
“Fuck… so tight, so damn perfect,” he groans, picking up pace, hips snapping against your ass.
You gasp, fingers tightening on the railing, your creamy slick coating his shaft, evidence of how good he’s fucking you.
“That’s it, you take me so well.” His lips brush against your ear. “Been dreaming about this since the moment I saw you at the pool. Wanted to bend you over and fuck you senseless in that cabana.”
He moves a hand to cup one of your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipple tightly, overwhelming you in the best way.
“Harry… oh god, you feel so good,” you whimper, arching your back deeper.
His thickness fills you exactly as you dreamed. The yacht’s gentle rocking makes him hit that perfect spot inside you with every roll of his hips, sending sparks of ecstasy directly to your clit.
“Look at you. Anyone sailing by could see how much of a dirty little thing you are for me.” He rolls your nipple between his fingers. “So fucking good… you hear how wet you are?”
You do and it’s almost embarrassing. You’re trembling, core tightening as pleasure builds fast and hot.
“Fuck, yes… squeeze me just like that,” he growls, biting down on your shoulder. His other hand slides down your stomach to rub firm circles over your swollen clit.
“Come on, baby. Show me how badly you’ve wanted this.” His thrusts grow deeper, almost punishing, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every snap of his hips.
The combination of his dirty words, the expert stroke of his fingers on your clit, and the relentless pounding sends you spiraling.
Your orgasm crashes over you hard as you cry out his name into the open sea. The pale moonlight that’s replaced the sunset paints your skin almost iridescently while waves of pleasure ripple through you, your pussy gushing around him.
Harry doesn’t stop, instead pulling back to get a better angle. He fucks you through it, relishing in how your walls flutter around him, chasing his own release.
“That’s my good girl… coming so pretty on my dick. Fuck, Sol—I’m close.”
You swirl your hips, the flesh of your ass rippling as you throw it back on him, finally able to find words other than just his name. “Come all over me, Harry.” Your voice is breathless and needy. “Please… I want to feel it.”
Your words paired with the view of your pussy gripping his cock has Harry peaking right then and there. He pulls out, stroking his cock while grabbing a handful of your tit again, finishing all over your folds and inner thighs.
Harry’s body blankets yours as he presses lazy kisses along your neck, both of you catching your breaths, a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies.
“Holy shit… that was amazing,” you breathe, your arms trembling from the intensity as you cling to the railing. Your legs feel like liquid, thighs slick with your combined release, and your pussy still flutters around the memory of him.
Harry notices immediately. He turns you around and carefully guides you down onto the wide cushioned lounger, the soft fabric warm against your overheated skin.
The sea breeze drifts over your naked body, cooling the sweat glistening on your chest and the mess between your thighs.
“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, laying down beside you and pulling your spent body flush against his. You tuck yourself into his side, resting your head on his broad, rising-and-falling chest.
He wraps one strong arm around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns along the sensitive curve of your back.
“Sorry for spoiling your romantic bedding fantasy,” you tease playfully, propping your chin on his naked chest to look up at him. Your eyes are heavy with satisfaction, lips still swollen from earlier.
Harry chuckles softly, the sound vibrating warmly beneath your cheek. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his slightly damp curls. “We’ve got all summer to make that come true,” he promises.
You bite your lip, a fresh spark of desire flickering through your exhausted body. Now that you’ve felt how devastatingly good he is, you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep your hands off him for the rest of the trip.
The thought of riding him on sun-drenched decks and tasting him under starlit skies makes your clit tingle.
For the briefest second, Joel flickers across your mind, but he vanishes just as quickly when Harry’s warm hand strokes slowly down your spine. His touch is worshipful, sending pleasant shivers across your skin and pulling a soft, contented moan from your lips.
“Then we should rinse off and you can give me a preview in the shower.”
His brown eyes drop down to yours, seeing the bubbling lust there, and that’s enough to get the both of you moving.
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maybe it's bc i'm all drugged up cause my iv but just thinking of how far i've come as a writer. finishing up {services requested} and {stages of devotion} in the next couple weeks will make that SEVEN total series i've completed with y'all. that's so many. spanning so many different types of joel (mostly hehe) and genres of fics and omg i'm just so proud of myself
OMG wait including {acute adoration} and {sugar me up} that will make NINE completed fics !!
okay, okay, focusing on other things now before they dose me up with night time meds and knock my ass out lol
Hi folks! I've had so much fun with past writing challenges I've taken part in, and I knew that I wanted to host one of my own once I hit 1k followers - and now we're here!! I am so, so grateful to each and every one of you. Entering this fandom, as well as the fanfic world in general, has been such a source of positivity and joy for me. I could get all sappy on you all, but just know that if we've ever had an interaction, or even if you're a silent follower whose handle I recognize as it comes across my notifications, I am incredibly appreciative of you.
Now for the challenge! I'm combining my two favorite things - PPCU & horror. If you don't typically write horror/dark themes, please do not be scared off! Horror is such a broad genre, and if any of the tropes below interest you, I'd love if you joined. The 'tropes' listed include various genres, character types, and themes/sub-genres.
How it works: Pick a PPCU character of your choosing from the list below, and then choose a horror trope from the corresponding list. I'm also happy to help - so if you're having trouble, or just want it to be fun and randomized, let me know and I can either choose the character for you, the trope, or both! Just send me an ask with your Pedro character and the horror trope you'd like (or ask me to choose for you). There can be repeats of characters, but not repeats of tropes. I will update the list as we go and add more tropes as needed!
I'm setting an initial deadline of September 15th - but please let me know if that does not seem feasible for you; I want everyone to be able to join who'd like to! Please tag me when you post your fic and use the hashtag #ppcuhorrorchallenge.
credit to @millers-ghost for the header graphic 🖤 thank you babe
summary: it's day four on the island... and you find out what harry’s been keeping from you.
pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader
content warning(s): MATURE (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, angst, cursing, drunken confession (kinda?), both reader and harry are poor communicators, saying things neither of them mean/will regret later, no use of y/n.
word count: 4.1k
a/n: Y'ALL this was soo hard for me to write!!! ugh pls stay with me, the angst is only temporary, but we gotta get through the thick of it before we get to the good parts again. stay tuned and hope y'all enjoy <3
pt. 4 - pt 6. || series masterlist. || read on AO3.
The following morning, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your hair while you were getting ready to meet with Charlotte. Harry was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you intently. Last night had felt like a line was crossed by the both of you and yet, neither of you decided to talk about it.
Instead, it just felt like you were both caught up in the moment. It wasn’t serious. It didn’t mean anything.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Harry asked.
“It’s just breakfast with Charlotte.”
“Okay, but what if she starts asking about us?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure she will.”
He sighed.
You looked over at him.
“Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not.”
“You are, Harry.”
He tightened his jaw. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all last night, the text from Peter sounding so ominous that his mind started unraveling. Harry watched you turn to face him and his eyes softened instantly at the sight of you.
There were so many things that you both needed to talk about, so many things that you both needed to address.
But you didn’t.
Neither of you did.
“We’ll be okay,” you said. “We’ve got a few more days left. We’re fine.”
“But what if we aren’t?” Harry blurted out. Then, he corrected himself. “What if they find out?”
“They won’t.” You reached up to rest a hand on his chest, leaning up on your toes to kiss his cheek lightly. “We’re okay.”
He sighed and shut his eyes, leaning forward against your touch. He reached out to rest a hand on your hip, lightly squeezing it as you stepped closer to him.
It wasn’t even the fact that there was a possibility that his brother and Charlotte found out.
It wasn’t that they were onto the lie that you both curated.
Instead, it was the fact that Harry started looking at you in such a different way that he wasn’t sure how to move forward.
He was so used to being in control, of making sure that everything was perfect and up to his standards and expectations, that you—and his feelings for you—put him on edge.
Because last night, everything changed. The way you looked at him or the way he held you. It was different. You were no longer just a friend who was doing him a favor.
“Are we?” He finally asked.
Your brows furrowed. “Yes.”
Harry opened his eyes to look at you.
You bit your lower lip. You knew what he was saying, understood what he was trying to refer to. You couldn’t help but think back to last night, about what his mother said. Instead of addressing it directly, you decided to push it aside. “Do you trust me?”
“More than you know,” he answered quickly.
Your lips curled into a small smile. “Good. Then trust me when I say that we’re okay.”
Harry nodded and slowly, he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. Your hand moved from his chest to rest at the base of his neck, stepping closer to him as you began moving your lips with his own.
His hand moved from your hip to wrap around you while his other hand lifted you up into his arms.
“Mm, I have to go soon,” you mumbled.
“Not yet,” he whispered, pulling back to pepper kisses along your neck as he set you on the edge of the bathroom sink. He stepped between your legs, running his hands up and down your smooth and bare legs.
“Harry,” you said quietly, eyes falling shut as you felt his lips move along your neck.
He pulled back enough to look up at you. Harry moved his hands to your hips and tugged you closer to him. “Why can’t I get enough of you?” He asked honestly.
You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. “This is new to you? You couldn’t get enough of me before,” you teased.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not true.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
“You act like I’m the only one,” he said softly. Harry pushed into you, his covered bulge now pressing against your clothed sex. “Maybe… maybe the fact that I’m seeing you everyday is doing something to me.”
“Right,” you teased, clearing your throat quietly. “Or maybe it’s the fact that the last couple of times, we haven’t been exactly safe.”
He growled. “We should stop doing that.”
“We should,” you agreed.
“But it feels good.”
“It does,” you smiled, leaning forward and gently nipping at his lower lip. “Could feel every inch of you.”
Harry’s grip around your hips tightened. “Mmm,” he whispered. “I do like the way you feel around me.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “How wet and warm you are,” he whispered, moving his lips along your jawline. “How tight you feel around me,” he continued, moving his hands to the waistband of your shorts.
“Harry,” you whimpered.
“Yeah, baby?”
He pulled back to look down at you. Then, before either of you could do or say anything else, you both heard a couple of knocks from the front door.
Harry sighed.
You let out a quiet giggle.
“At least I can hide mine,” you teased.
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Do you think if we ignored them they’ll just go away?”
You smiled. “You know we can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He sighed, stepping back and letting you down off the edge of the sink.
“Because… whatever Peter wanted to talk to you about sounded serious.”
“Fine,” Harry said. “But afterwards, you’re mine.”
You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m counting on it, baby.”
The knocking continued. Harry readjusted himself and looked over at you.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll… be out shortly.”
You grinned and looked down at him, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. “I’ll see you after breakfast.”
He nodded. “I’ll be here, baby.”
Harry watched you leave the villa with Charlotte by your side. Peter was already inside, seated on the couch, but he remained at the doorway. He watched you look over your shoulder at him and you smiled, giving him a wave before you turned back around. Harry just wanted to spend all day with you.
Once you and Charlotte were quite a distance away, he finally shut the door and walked to the living area where Peter was seated. His foot was tapping anxiously against the floor and Harry furrowed a brow, sitting across from him.
“Okay, what’s going on?” He asked. “You look nervous.”
“I’m not,” Peter said.
“You sure?” Harry replied, pointing to the bouncing of his leg.
Peter sighed. “Are you cheating on her?” He blurted out.
“What?”
“Are you cheating on her?”
“Why would you even ask me that?” Harry shook his head. “Of course I’m not. That’s not the kind of person I am.”
Peter sighed. The tapping of his foot slowed. “I knew it.”
Harry looked at his younger brother, confused. “Peter, what the hell is going on?”
“Charlotte,” he said, running a hand over his face. “She told Lucy that you were here with another woman and well… she said that you had a membership with Adore.”
Harry’s jaw clenched. “What? Why would she say that?”
“I don’t know? Maybe she’s jealous?”
He stood from the sofa. “Yeah, sure.”
Peter furrowed a brow and watched his older brother begin to pace back and forth in front of him. “You—you don’t have a membership with Adore, right? She was just lying? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone else before.”
“Of course she’s lying,” Harry answered quickly. He looked over at his brother and sighed. “Is that why you wanted to meet with me this morning? Is that why Charlotte’s taking her out to breakfast right now?”
“No… I mean, yes,” Peter sighed. “I just—I wanted to talk to you about it. When she told me last night, I didn’t believe it.”
“And do you believe it now?”
“No, of course not,” Peter answered. “I know that you’re not that type of guy, Harry.”
“Then, why does it look like you think I’m hiding something else?”
Peter shrugged. “Are you? Hiding something else?”
“No,” he answered. “Jeez,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “If I don’t have someone, you, mom, and dad are on my ass, trying to hook me up with someone that you think would be a good fit. But now, now that I do have someone and I’ve brought her here, it still isn’t enough.”
“Harry—”
“You know it’s true, Peter.”
“We just want you happy.”
“Do I not seem happy?” He asked.
“You’ve looked the happiest you’ve ever been since we got here,” Peter answered truthfully.
“Then what?”
“I just… Why did you keep this—keep her—a secret from me? From us?”
Harry looked at his younger brother. “Maybe I just wanted something for myself before I got you all involved… and maybe, maybe I didn’t want to ruin it either.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I’ve introduced all of the women I’ve been with too early in our relationship and look how all that turned out. I just—I wanted it to be me and her for a bit before we got to that point,” Harry lied.
Peter sighed. “Okay,” he nodded. “Okay.”
“Is Charlotte—Is she going to say something?”
“I told her not to.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Peter bit his lower lip. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck,” Harry sighed, sitting back down. “Fuck.”
“You really like her…”
“Of course I do,” he said, looking over at Peter.
“Did you always?”
Harry cleared his throat. He couldn’t tell his brother that you both started sleeping with each other long before this and he certainly couldn’t tell him that all of this was fake.
That he did have a membership with Adore.
And that he was sure he’d have several dates to go on when he got back to New York.
“She’s beautiful, Peter,” Harry said. “Kind of hard not to like her.”
Peter chuckled. “You know, before all of this, I was telling Charlotte that I was willing to bet her that you’d get engaged soon.”
Harry scoffed. “You’d lose that bet.”
“Why? I mean, everyone saw the way you two looked at each other last night.”
He rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch. His mind drifted to last night’s events, how all he could remember was how beautiful you looked and the dance you two shared.
But he couldn’t allow himself to get comfortable with that memory because Peter and Charlotte knew something that you didn’t and if you found out, Harry wasn’t sure how you’d react.
“I’m trying not to jump into things so fast,” Harry finally answered. “We saw how that went with Lucy.”
“Lucy wasn’t the one for you,” he said. “But this one… she’s perfect for you.”
Harry looked over at him. “It’s too soon to tell.”
“Please… we’ve known her for years.”
He cleared his throat. “We’re just… navigating all of this, okay? It’s too early.”
Peter nodded. “Sure,” he said. “But you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that you’re not in love with her. We all see it.”
Harry shook his head. He didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text. Two words, simple, and straight to the point.
HARRY: How’s breakfast?
“I can’t believe we’re here,” you smiled over at Charlotte. You were both seated at a table that overlooked the water and the waiter set down two glasses of mimosas on the table before leaving you both to look at the menu.
“I know,” she said. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? How rich they are.”
“God, I know,” you agreed. “They rented out an entire island,” you laughed. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but they worked hard for it.”
Charlotte nodded with a smile. “Their mom loves you,” she pointed out.
You shrugged, “I’ve known them for years. This time… it’s just a bit different.”
“Yeah, you don’t work for them when you’re here,” she said. “Here… you’re their son’s girlfriend.”
“Right,” you nodded. “Exactly.”
“And how is that going?” Charlotte asked.
Your brows furrowed. “Good,” you answered. “Harry’s great. We’ve known each other before this too, so… it’s not like we’re starting fresh. I mean, this is new to us, but we were friends before.”
Charlotte took her own glass and sipped her drink, looking at you from the rim of the glass. “Sometimes, I wish my story with Peter was as cute and normal as yours and Harry’s.”
“Why?” You smiled. “You ended up marrying him. It doesn’t matter how your story started. What matters is how the story ended.”
She shrugged and set down the glass. “I know, but I mean… it’s not as romantic as yours, you know? Someone asks us how we got together and we say that we were matched from a matchmaking service. That’s not romantic at all.”
“Hey, dating is hard,” you reassured her. “Besides, from what I hear, Adore is very elite. It’s not like Tinder, you know?”
Charlotte’s interest piqued. “Oh, so you know about Adore?”
You nodded. “Yeah, Harry told me about it.”
“He did?” She asked, surprised. Maybe that was the nature of your relationship with him, she thought. An open relationship.
“Why are you surprised?” You laughed quietly.
“I just—I don’t know,” she answered. “You don’t seem like the type of couple who would be open to that.”
You brow furrowed. “What? Open to what?”
“I mean, Harry using Adore’s services while he’s with you? From the looks of last night, it just seemed like you two were so head over heels in love with each other. I didn’t think that you’d both have an open relationship.”
You cleared your throat. Your heart dropped to your stomach and a sudden wave of unease washed over you. It shouldn’t have effected you the way it did—Harry wasn’t technically yours to begin with and all of this was a lie anyway, but…
Why did it hurt?
Why did finding out that Harry was already hoping to find someone else when he got back to New York unsettling?
You felt tears sting your eyes, but you blinked them away, feigning a yawn. You couldn’t show Charlotte that you were taken by surprise. Instead, you had to go along with it.
And that fucking hurt too.
“Yeah,” you laughed anxiously. “Well, it works for us.”
“That’s crazy,” Charlotte chuckled, letting out a breath of relief. “I was so nervous! I didn’t want to be the one to tell you the news, but I’m glad that you already knew.”
You nodded and forced a smiled. “Well, I appreciate it.”
“I just didn’t want him breaking your heart. I know he’s technically my brother-in-law, but still… us women need to stick together, right?” She smiled.
“Right,” you answered.
“Great, now that that’s over with, I can finally relax,” she laughed softly. “Does this mean you also have someone too?”
You shook your head and looked down at the menu. Every passing minute just made you nauseous and anxious because you had to go back to the villa and face Harry.
“No,” you answered. “Not yet,” you teased, despite the hurt and pain you felt.
Everything that you had begun feeling for Harry since the start of the trip was now coming back to bite you in the ass. You both established rules for a reason—at the time, it seemed easy enough. Go back to normal after this trip, act like nothing ever happened.
But now… now it was fucking hard to do that. How could you go back to normal when you had feelings for him? Genuine feelings?
“Well, I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for you,” Charlotte said. “So… tell me how it works.”
You cleared your throat and felt your phone vibrate from your bag. You excused yourself for a moment to go to the bathroom, promising Charlotte all the spicy details that you were sure she was hoping to hear about. When you were in the bathroom and the door shut and locked behind you, you looked down at your phone and read Harry’s text.
Anger washed over you.
You answered with one word.
YOU: Fine.
Harry read your text and let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Charlotte didn’t tell you. He leaned back against the couch for a moment before he heard his brother get up and walk towards the kitchen. He was rummaging through the cupboard and pulling out two glasses.
Quickly, Harry sent you one more text. He would see you soon enough.
HARRY: Miss you.
You looked down at your phone and wanted to scream. You didn’t respond. You just stuffed your phone into your bag and then looked at yourself in the mirror.
You were embarrassed. Harry could have at least told you before all of this that he had a membership to Adore, to the same fucking matchmaking services that paired Peter and Charlotte together.
Instead, he lied. He was lying to you from the start. And you weren’t sure what hurt the most. The fact that he didn’t want you to know or the fact that you were starting to develop real feelings for him.
After about an hour, both you and Charlotte were back at your villa. You had too much to drink, slurring your words, laughing obnoxiously, and could barely stand on your two feet. Once the door opened, Charlotte gave Harry an apologetic look.
“Sorry, we—we got carried away.”
Peter looked over at the both of you. You had stumbled inside and tossed your bag and kicked off your sandals.
“We should get head out,” Peter mumbled, leading Charlotte out of the villa. “I’ll let mom and dad know you’ll both be skipping lunch.”
“Noo!” You yelled, already laying on the couch. “We will make it!”
“No, we won’t,” Harry said. “Thanks,” he muttered, glancing at Charlotte who refused to look at him. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Once Peter and Charlotte left, Harry walked to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He chuckled to himself at the sight of you all sprawled out on the sofa. He had no idea what you knew.
“Here, drink some water,” he said, setting it onto the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
“No,” you muttered.
“You need to—”
“You don’t tell me what to do,” you interrupted, words still slurring.
“You’re right,” he said. “The water’s there for you if you need it.”
“Stop acting like you care.”
Harry furrowed a brow. “What?”
“You heard me. You don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s just me. No one else is around.”
“I’m not pretending. I do care about you,” he mumbled.
“Liar. You’re a fucking liar,” you spat, sitting up slowly and staring at him. He noticed the tears pooling at your eyes now.
“I don’t understand…” he said.
“Of course you don’t,” you shook your head. “You’re still lying.”
“I’m not—Baby,” he tried to reach out for you. Harry hated the look on your face—disgust and pain written across your features.
“Don’t. Don’t call me that.”
Harry’s brows pulled together in confusion. “What happened? At brunch? What happened?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” You asked.
“You’re not making any sense, baby.”
You laughed. Then, you stood.
Harry did too. He tried to reach out for you again.
“Don’t touch me.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m just making sure you don’t fall.”
“It’s not my first time being this drunk, okay? I’ve done it before without you.”
He sighed. “What did Charlotte tell you?” Harry was starting to realize that maybe she did tell you about his membership to Adore, that he did have dates already planned for when he got back to New York. It was the only explanation for your reaction.
“What do you think she told me?”
Harry’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
You scoffed. “Do you know how bad that makes me look? Do you know how bad that makes you look?! God, I should’ve acted surprised. I should’ve made her believe that you were a fucking cheater.”
“What?”
“I told her that I knew about Adore because you told me about it before… but she—she thought I meant that I knew because we’re in an open relationship.”
“What?” He repeated. “She thinks… we’re in an open relationship?”
“Yeah,” you answered. “Because how bad would it look if the woman you brought to the Maldives to his parents’ anniversary trip had no idea that you were cheating on her?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Just stop,” you interrupted. “We’re nothing, right? This was all fake?”
Harry didn’t answer.
“Right?” You repeated, staring up at him as you blinked back your tears.
He straightened up and looked down at you. Harry took a step back and nodded, clenching his jaw once more. “Yeah, this was all fake.”
“Good.”
Harry yearned to reach out for you. To wipe the tears away from your face and pull you into his arms. He wanted to go back to last night, to the way you looked at him and how it just felt right with you in his arms.
“When we get back to New York… we’ll go back to normal,” Harry said.
“No,” you said. “When we get back to New York, I’m done.”
“What?”
“I’m done,” you repeated. “I’m not going to be just some woman you need to go to when shit doesn’t go your way.”
He scoffed. Harry was getting upset now. “Right. You do the same thing. That’s what we are to each other. It’s what we agreed on. Don’t act like I’m the only that uses you.”
“You’re right,” you nodded, pointing at him. “I use you too and what a fucking mistake that was.”
Harry took a step back. He stared at you with tears in his own eyes now too. He felt the tightness in his chest, could heart his own heart beating in his ears. He hadn’t felt like this when Lucy had broken up with him, so why did this—why did you—have this much of an effect on him?
“I didn’t think me having a membership at Adore would cause this kind of reaction,” he muttered. “Seems like maybe you broke a rule.”
“Fuck you.”
“What? Am I right?”
You stared at him with tears trickling down your cheeks. You shook your head, sobering up now that you were high on emotions. “No,” you lied. “How could I develop feelings for someone who doesn’t even know what love is? Who thinks that everything has to be perfect? Do you know how fucking exhausting you are, Harry?”
Harry inhaled sharply. “Stop.”
“What? You can say things, but I can’t?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m seeing things clearly now,” you mumbled.
“You think you know what love is? You’re still fucking single!” Harry spat.
“At least I’ve been in love before!”
“Yeah, and look how that turned out.”
You shook your head and took a step back. You looked at him and bit your trembling lower lip. “I should be going home.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Because after all of this, I still fucking care about you!” You blurted out. “God, how stupid do you have to be to not see that, Harry?”
His eyes softened. “I—I’m—”
“Like I said, after this trip, once we get home, we are done. I don’t ever want to see you again after this.”
“You don’t mean that,” Harry whispered.
“I am done, Harry.” You sighed, allowing your tears to now fall freely down your cheeks. “You could have told me… but you chose not to.”
“I didn’t think it would matter,” he said honestly.
“Yeah… well, it does.” You turned on your heel and walked down the hallway to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Harry remained in the living area, bringing his hand to his face and wiping the tears with the back of his hand. He grabbed his phone and walked out to the deck, dialing his matchmaker’s number.
She answered it after one ring.
“Harry, hi!”
“Cancel my dates,” he said. “And cancel my membership.”
“What?” She asked. “I’m sorry. Did something happen? Did you change your mind? We have other matches for you—”
“Did you not just hear me? Cancel everything. I don’t want anything to do with Adore anymore.”
She sighed. “Harry, you—”
“Cancel it. Or else you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“Okay,” she answered. “I’ll go ahead and cancel everything. If I could get some feedback or insight as to why—”
“Yeah,” he interrupted. “I think I'm already in love with someone else.”
oh my darling @cozymochaa this is such a DELICIOUS thought!! (I can’t reblog this post normally for some reason, so I’ll reply this way)
imagine how frankie’s eyes would flutter shut in bliss as he is indulging in his favourite meal while getting head scratches, I just know that catfish would be purring at your gentle loving touches. don’t even get me started on how frankie would be whimpering into you if you tugged at his curls as he is making you see stars with his tongue… I’m yearning for the pilot so hard rn
i read your Javier Peña’s fave s e x positions and places, and loved ittt!😭😭😭
Are you planning to write similar for other PPCU characters too? (If yes, please start with Joel!😭)
Aww, thank you so much! 😭💚 I’m really happy you enjoyed that one! 🥹
To be honest, I don’t currently have plans to do similar headcanons for other Pedroboys. Javier is kind of my comfort zone and the character I “know” best, so I always feel the most confident writing him.
That said, I am planning a Kinktober in October and it will feature lots of different Pedroboys, mostly in fic form rather than headcanons 🔥
So while I can’t promise character headcanons, there will definitely be more Pedroboys showing up on the page in the future! 🙌🏼
been super busy just tending to my medical stuff and trying to live in the moment more. been on a few dates, been painting and doing projects for my office space, but also been writing when i can! sneakie peaks below c:
