#EVERY IMAGE OF HIM I SEE MAKES ME WANT TO RIP HIM APART WITH MY TEETH!!!!!!!!!!!!

[redhotarsenic]

MIGUEL O’HARA!!!!!!

[littlexdeaths]

i get off - e.m.

perv eddie munson x perv fem reader

you don’t know that i know, you watch me every night…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), eddie is lil peeping tom but reader loves it, they both steal each other’s shit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, choking, spanking, dirty talk, mean!dom eddie, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, squirting, they both are nasty freaks

a/n: this is another edit and repost from my old account. it’s one of my favorite fics so i had to move it over here. enjoy freaks xx. 😘

based on i get off by halestorm

word count: 3.8k

you’re sprawled out on your bed, fingers running through your drenched folds. clad in only an oversized iron maiden t-shirt and a pair of knee high socks, you’re everything he’s ever wanted. plucked directly out of one of his dirtiest fantasies.

you can feel his eyes on you, you always do.

not that he realizes that.

and while you’ve lived barely ten feet apart for your entire lives, eddie has never had the courage to make a move.

so he settles for this— watching you through his bedroom window.

fantasizing that the delicate fingers now dipping inside you were his. and the fist currently wrapped around his thick cock was smaller, softer. yours.

the first time he witnessed you like this it was a complete accident.

you had been pent up all day, and didn’t think to shut your bedroom curtains before slipping your hand inside your panties. the bedside lamp bathing your room in a muted yellow hue. eddie had been working on a new song, guitar perched on his lap.

he was frustrated with trying to string together this new melody, glancing up in utter annoyance. that is until his gaze drifted towards the window, his eyes widened and his cock stirred in his jeans.

you looked beautiful, you always did. however this was the most vulnerable state you could be in, and the fact that he got to witness it— made you all the more enchanting to him.

he’d be embarrassed to admit that watching you touch yourself made him cum in his jeans, completely untouched. and that first time you were none the wiser, not noticing the dark eyes that were trailing your figure. but once eddie had gotten a taste he couldn’t get enough.

eagerly waiting by his bedroom window to enjoy his new favorite nightly program… you.

you weren’t sure exactly how long he’d been doing it for, but the night you caught him in the act, it awoke something within you. while eddie made sure to keep his bedroom light off, the moonlight was not on his side that night.

it had filled his room in a soft white glow, highlighting his pale skin. his naked form perched on the edge of his unmade bed, stroking his shaft in tandem with each thrust of your fingers.

his moans are what gave him away, as your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. but he’d gotten a little too carried away, thinking about how pretty your pussy would look stuffed full with his cock.

the thin walls of the trailer doing nothing to conceal his sounds. when your eyes finally opened, you were met with the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.

eddie fucking himself into his fist, his head tilted back as he spilled all over his ringed fingers. the image alone had your eyes rolling back, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. one of the most intense you’ve ever had, and from that night on you always kept your curtains open.

desperately chasing that euphoric feeling again.

while you didn’t always see him, you knew he was there. the feeling of his greedy eyes on you was enough to have you cumming harder than you ever have in your entire life. your whimpers were muffled but still rang through his ears as he’d make a mess all over his hand and chest.

different images of you— on your knees, on top of him, taking you from behind, or his favorite with his head buried between your thighs.

it was slowly driving him crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of you. he needed more. he quickly found himself staring out his window any chance he could. gazing longingly as you floated around your bedroom.

he watched you change, get ready for the day, study with your college textbooks. your pencil resting in between your teeth. eddie knew it was wrong, that if you ever found out you would be revolted.

if he only knew it was the exact opposite, and how you couldn’t finish without feeling his eyes on you. but you also needed more, desperate to feel his weight on top of you. his mouth trailing over your skin, his cock stretching you out perfectly.

so you became bolder, going as far as to leave your bedroom window open. letting your moans drift through the night air, teasing him further.

and when you noticed some of your panties had gone missing it only heightened your desire for him. knowing he was in your room, touching your things… holding your panties up to his nose as he came all over himself.

grunts of your name escaped his pouted lips, and his left yours as you drenched your fingers. but it wasn’t enough.

you needed him.

fueled by your insatiable lust you found yourself gazing at him more and more. as he sat on his messy floor, playing guitar or working on a dnd campaign. focusing intently on his fingers, and imagining just how good they would feel inside you.

but your favorite was when he was fresh out of the shower. his dark curls were drenched, water dripping down his inked chest. the patch of hair that disappeared beneath his towel drove you absolutely mad.

so you took a play out of his own book, sneaking into his room while he was working at benny’s. or coming home late from a gig at the hideout, surrounding yourself in everything that was so distinctly eddie.

eddie honestly wasn’t concerned when a few of his shirts had gone missing. or a pair of his cum stained boxers, a guitar pick… as he lost things all the time. he simply chalked it up to his forgetful nature, either he misplaced them or lent them to someone.

that is until tonight, as he peered through your window for what felt like the millionth time. his heart was in his throat as he instantly recognized the iron maiden shirt adorning your frame as his.

the realization dawns on him that you knew exactly what he’d been doing this whole time… and instead of being disgusted or upset, you liked it. enough so that you began doing the same thing to him.

that epiphany made any reservations or fears he still had fade into nothingness. the male decided that he couldn’t sit back and only watch you anymore.

he had to have you.

the brunette rose to his feet, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his long legs before slipping out of his bedroom window. quickly dropping onto the ground as he walks the short distance to your adjoined trailer.

his large hands grip the bottom of the window sill, pushing it open the rest of the way before he’s hoisting himself through it. a small gasp leaves you as he tumbles inside and onto your bedroom floor.

eddie is quick to get up onto back on his feet, as you eagerly eye the obvious tent in his gray sweats. he licks his plump lips as he practically sizes you up. he stalks forward like a predator, slowly crawling onto your bed and between your spread legs.

the male grabs your wrist, coaxing your fingers out of your drenched cunt. raising them up to his mouth, slipping them between his lips with a deep groan. “such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

for once you’re speechless, his actions jumbling your already fuzzy thoughts. you never imagined he’d actually come through your window, like you’d been dreaming about for weeks.

“speak for yourself, munson…” your confidence suddenly comes rushing back, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. feeling your wetness pooling onto the bed sheets as he swirls his tongue around them.

“guess we’re both a little dirty, huh baby?” eddie chuckles as he removes your fingers from his mouth, now leaning over you.

letting yourself fall back against the pillow, his face mere inches from yours. this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to him, now noticing the light freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose. the dimple that indents his cheek as he smirks down at you, little things that you found utterly endearing.

his hands begin drifting down your sides, his smirk only widening as you shudder beneath him. “is that what does it for ya? you like being watched, sweetness?” he grips the fabric of his shirt, starting to push it up your torso.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. “i get off on you…” you slowly trail your lips up his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto his pale skin. the male letting out a husky moan as you nip at his ear, “getting off on me.”

eddie curses under his breath before he’s pinning you down against the mattress, his lips crashing against yours. your fingers tangle in his wild curls, kissing him back just as forcefully. all the pent up sexual tension and desire now spills from both of you, as his hips rut into yours. you can feel his hard length pressing onto your thigh, causing you to moan into his mouth.

your impatience seems to get the better of you as you grip onto one of his wrists, guiding his large hand in between your thighs. a not so subtle way of telling him exactly what you wanted, the male nips at your lower lip before he’s leaning back onto his knees.

he spreads your thighs even wider, as his dark eyes zero in on the mess between them. his fingers dip between your folds, gathering your sticky nectar on the digits. swirling them around your swollen clit before moving lower.

the metalhead teases you as he circles the tip of his middle finger on your entrance. barely pushing it inside you before removing it, a wet squelch filling the room. “oh listen to her purr for me, baby… you want my fingers inside you?”

you nod frantically, lifting your hips up in an effort to get him closer to where you needed him. but he pulls them away immediately, causing you to whine from the loss. eddie grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together as he meets your hooded gaze. “i asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”

he watches as your eyes glaze over more, the dominance he was exuding turning your brain to mush. “and i expect an answer, or is that pretty little head of yours too fucked out for me?” his tone is condescending, borderline rude but it only seems to fuel the fire in between your legs.

you let out a soft whimper, the male letting go of your cheeks to trail his sticky fingers down your jaw.

“need your fingers, eddie…” the male chuckles, wrapping his hand around your neck. hovering his face over yours, his thumb stroking the column of your throat.

“need them where, hm?”

you’re quickly becoming impatient, and he can tell from how your lips jut out into a pout. thighs closing in around his own, in an attempt to feel some kind of friction.

“come on now… don’t ya wanna be a good girl for me?” he can see the effect those words have on you, your pupils dilating and your breath hitching in your throat.

“put them inside me.”

while your tone is meant to be demanding, it comes out as more of a plea than anything else. your heart is racing in anticipation as his fingers trail down your stomach. cupping your cunt in the palm of his hand, “and what do good girls say?”

you now realize your mistake, the male raising a brow as he awaits your answer. “please touch me.” eddie is quick to reward you, plunging two fingers into your awaiting heat.

“see? now you’re learning,” another string of curses leaves his mouth as your walls tighten around his fingers and a high pitched moan falls from yours.

“shit sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” he curls the digits up, watching in awe as your back arches off the mattress.

“fuck i need to taste you,” he mumbles more to himself as he lays between your thighs. his tongue darting out, encircling your clit with an urgency you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.

the noises you’re making are music to his ears, and while he’s heard them before— you’ve never sounded quite so needy. pride blossoms in his chest knowing it was because of him, you needed him. he was making you feel this good.

your thighs begin to tremble as he increases the pressure of his tongue, pumping his fingers faster.

“m-more need more.” while eddie wanted to reprimand you for not using your manners, he’s been waiting to have you like this for far too long.

but he’d make sure you didn’t forget next time… if there was a next time. he hoped there would be.

he slips a third finger inside you, the long, thick digits reaching places you never realized existed until now.

and now that you knew what they felt like, your own would never suffice again.

“aww pretty thing, you gonna cum?” he chuckles mockingly as the sound vibrates against your core.

the feeling only aiding in bringing your release that much closer, as your eyes flutter shut. a harsh slap on your thigh has them flying back open, your eyes meeting his as he looks up at you from his position between them.

“eyes on me,” his tone is stern, commanding as his tongue returns to assaulting your swollen bud.

as you start to grind your hips up against his mouth, it pushes his fingers even deeper inside you. hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out a broken, “oh god, please.”

eddie hums against you, increasing the speed of his fingers. “i prefer master… but god has a nice ring to it.” if you weren’t on the brink of an orgasm you might have found that funny, not registering his soft laughter as he sucks harshly on your clit.

the sensation is what finally sends you over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his head and trapping him there.

not that he would ever dare complain.

once you settle back into the mattress is when he pulls away, crawling back up your body towards you. your excitement covers his chin in a light sheen, now tasting yourself as he kisses you with a bruising force.

you reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his legs. feeling his cock rubbing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you want nothing more than to feel it hard and heavy on your tongue.

“wanna taste you too, eds,” you whine as he trails his lips across your jaw, sucking onto your skin. as much as he would love to have you gagging on his cock, his impatience had reached its peak.

“next time, sweetness… need to be inside you.”

you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. the promise of a next time making your heart flutter beneath your ribs.

eddie unwillingly untangles himself from you, now standing at the edge of the bed to remove his sweats. his cock stands at full attention as you sit up, eagerly crawling towards him. your mouth waters at the sight, finally able to admire him how you’ve been dying to for the last few weeks.

you wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft, glancing up at him as you lick up the pre-cum that was smeared across his pink tip. the male grips a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging you off his dick as a small whimper leaves you.

“hands and knees— now.” he nearly growls at you, releasing you as you continue to look up at him in a daze.

“don’t make me repeat myself, baby.”

and as much as you would love to test how far you could push his buttons, that would be saved for a later date. so you do as you’re told, crawling away from him now on your hands and knees.

feeling his eyes trailing over the plush skin of your ass, “take a picture, munson, it’ll last longer.”

what you don’t expect is to hear the snap of your polaroid camera, whipping your head around to see the shit eating grin he was sporting. setting the camera and picture down on your dresser once more, “just following orders, sweet cheeks.” he chuckles, crawling onto the bed behind you.

eddie lands a firm smack on your ass, his chest now draped across your back. his hot breath fanning over your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “face the mirror, you aren’t gonna wanna miss this, baby.”

your thighs clench together, now turning to face the full length mirror that stood across from your bed.

you glance at yourself briefly before your eyes trail upwards, now meeting his in the reflection. a cocky grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands now roaming the full expanse of your ass.

feeling the tip of his cock brush against your core, pushing your hips back so you could feel more. eddie’s calloused hands grip you tightly, stopping any further movement on your part.

“don’t be fucking greedy, you’ll take what i give you.”

you squeak out a small apology, keeping your eyes focused on him as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. gasping once he slowly pushed himself into your awaiting heat, a strangled moan tumbling from his lips.

his eyes squeeze shut as he bottoms out, his balls flush against the curve of your ass. you feel incredibly full, the stretch so divine it makes your head spin.

“eddie, please.” you mewl, watching as his brown eyes meet yours.

desperate for him to do something— anything.

eddie’s rings dig into your hips, his eyes glancing down to watch as he slides his cock back out. groaning as you’ve already coated his length in your arousal, a sight he’d only ever seen in his dreams.

“gonna give you everything,” he grunts before slamming himself back inside, knocking the air out of your lungs as you fall forward onto the mattress.

you grip the edge of it for support as he continues to rock his hips into yours, this new angle allowing him to rub against your sweet spot perfectly. keeping your eyes locked on the mirror, the image of him behind you— thrusting into you will be seared in your memory forever.

the black ink swirling on his skin, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. the veins in his forearms that are much more noticeable as he grips you tighter. he looks more like a greek god than anyone had a right to.

your jaw is slack, mouth hanging open as you continue to watch him. the little ‘uh uh uhs’ that leave your lips mix with the sound of your skin slapping together. now filling the quiet space of your bedroom.

“taking me so well— this pussy was made for me.”

eddie moans, completely distracted by the way your pussy flutters around him. the creamy ring that’s formed around the base of his cock expanding with each thrust of his hips.

“look at me,” you whine, that signature smirk returning to his features as he meets your eyes in the mirror once more.

“aww poor little, baby,” he coos, slipping his hand between your thighs and landing a harsh slap on your already sensitive bud. “always need my eyes on you… don’t you?”

a string of curses slips past your lips as you nod your head. “need it,” you whimper as his calloused fingertips circle over your clit. “need you.”

your words seem to have quite the effect on him, a low growl leaving him as he fucks into you even harder.

“what do you need me to do, pretty girl? tell me.” it takes you a minute before you can answer him, the male having fucked any coherent thoughts from your head.

“n-need it inside.” is the best you can manage, but eddie understands all too well.

it’s what he had hoped you would say, “yeah, you want me to fuck you so full? ruin this pretty little pussy for anyone else?” your eyes roll back in your head, as the male wraps his other hand around your throat.

he handles you like a rag doll as he pulls you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest. the action forces his cock even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix. his hand that was wrapped around your throat is now cradling your jaw, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.

your half lidded eyes watch as he leans forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “this pussy is mine now, got that, sweetness?”

it’s suddenly all too much, the rubber band in your middle finally snaps as your body trembles in his embrace. cries of his name and ‘yours yours yours’ tumbling from your mouth.

the brunette watches in amazement as you drench his thighs, your bed sheets— the pressure almost forcing him out completely.

the metalhead curses as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the wet squelching of your pussy finally sending him over the edge. grunting as he pumps you full of his cum, your body falling limp against his chest.

you’re both panting as you come down from your highs. his touch on your hips is much more gentle than before as he coaxes you onto your back.

you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion hits you. eddie cradles your face in his palms, pressing soft kisses to each of your eyelids before his touch suddenly disappears.

your eyes fly open in alarm, reaching out for him as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “don’t worry… you aren’t rid of me just yet.”

eddie chuckles as he spreads your thighs apart, his dark eyes watching intently as his cum drips out of you. pooling onto the bed beneath you, making an even bigger mess of your sheets.

his head dips lower, inhaling as he gathers the mixture of both your arousal onto his awaiting tongue. moaning before diving in deeper, “shit, we taste good together.”

“too much,” you whimper, wiggling your hips away from his eager mouth due to the oversensitivity.

eddie presses a kiss to each of your thighs before he joins you once more, collapsing next to you with a boyish grin on his face. you reach out to trace the stubble along his jaw, your fingertips brushing over his plump lips.

you feel him release a shaky breath against your fingertips, the look he’s giving you makes your stomach do a little flip.

“so… is it too late to ask you out on a date?”

[wonryllis]

☆ MY PRETTY DOLL ! ( enhypen hyung line reaction to you in a lingerie )

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen losing their sanity 𖥔 ݁ SMUT MDNI, requested fem!reader LIB? word count ` 1074 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"my pretty little slut, you did this on purpose didn't you?" heeseung's fingers thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace. the wet sounds echoing in the room, adding onto the arousal of watching yourself on the mirror. your back rests against his chest as he holds your legs apart with his own. one hand fingering the fuck out of you and the other grip your throat to force you to keep your eyes at the vulgar image infront.

"falling asleep on my bed with this on, baby you're so dirty and desperate," he grunts at the lewd sight, mentally drooling over the scene of you trying to push your hips forward to meet his fingers when he slows down a bit.

heeseung swears he almost stopped breathing when he came across you passed out on top of his covers, dressed in the prettiest lingerie. more like pretty you making the lingerie look so pretty. the thought of you waiting in his room like that to give him a surprise fueling his inner sex demons. feeling more turned on than ever. grinning sheepishly over his intentions.

"come on now, ride me baby," his arms hook around you as he manhandles you onto his lap. carressing your trembling thighs and slapping your pussy. he rests his palms on the bed, watching you struggle to put his cock inside after all the edging he put you through. cooing at your whiney protests to let you cum, cute and pathetic and hot. so cruel but you loved it and he knew you loved it.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

"fuck baby, i can see your pussy from here," jay groans, feeling his dick twitch hard in his pants. the sleep lolling him from the previous night he spent gaming, immediately vanishing. he is so wide awake right now, orbs bulging out at the sight of you twirling in the middle of his room, showing off the lingerie you just got, for him.

it barely covers your ass, and it barely— wrong it does not cover your pussy at all, he can see it so clearly he thinks he'll grow crazy. frozen in his seat, gulping at every thought that comes to his mind, things he'd do to you right now.

"is it pretty?" you ask, looking at him with doe eyes, he feels he'll bust a nut right then and there. his cock throbbing with anticipation as he gets up from the chair, walking over to where you stand. calloused hands gently brush against everywhere, taking his time to admire your look, trying to imprint the image of it in his brain. "jayyy, do i look pretty? do you like thi—"

"yes baby, so so pretty. so fucking pretty," he's immediately grabbing you by the waist and throwing you on the bed. impatient all of a sudden as he rips the pathetic thread of a panty and shoving down his pants, thrusts his impossibly hard dick so rough into you, it's like he lost control. you drive him batshit crazy and jay doesn't know if it's good or worse that you fucking know it and use it to get what you want.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"give me a little show, princess," jake's hands twitch with desperation, so restless to touch you. though the need to savour the sight of you in that racy lingerie is strong he can't help but be seated, tense and aroused, eyes locked on your figure.

"shit, you're beautiful," the way the lace hugs your skin with the little sneak peaks of skin showing him exactly what he wants to see but not entirely what he wants to see and it makes him feel feral.

"won't you touch me?" you whine sultrily, and jake feels like a hybrid in rut, his body heating up beyond sane, dick throbbing every other second, feeling hyper aware of his surroundings and possibilities of all that he could do to and with you. he pulls you against him lips landing on yours in an instant, the messiest kiss you have ever shared, rushed and gasping for breath. there's just so much he wants to do right now he can't seem to decide what to start with, malfunctioning poorly.

"fuck, jake," yet he finds it in him to begin with rubbing you over your pretty panties, quick circles with his fingers pressing hard against your sensitive folds,"yes baby, gonna make you feel so good," he pushes you to lay on the edge of the bed before forcing your legs far apart in a snap. getting on his knees and leaving fluttering kisses on you inner thighs. shoving your panties aside and diving in to eat you out at once. from kitten licks to lapping at your slick, from tiny kisses for a tease to lips harshly sucking at your engorged clit. jake was absolutely crazed.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

"sunghoon! what are you doing!" you squeal, squirming in place as sunghoon suddenly grabs you from the corridor into his dark room, and cornering you against his desk roughly pulls your oversized shirt(his shirt) up. door slightly ajar, an open chance for anyone to peak in.

"couldn't help but wonder if you're still wearing it," he whispers, hands fondling your breasts harsh and sloppy over the lace material. just an hour earlier, while he was out with jay you sent him a picture of you dressed in the most gorgeous set of lingerie ever. looking so innocently sexy he felt his breath knocked right out of him, dick hard and leaking in the middle of the mall.

"mhp— they'll h-hear us," but that is least of sunghoon's concern right now, they have heard him fuck you before, multiple times. all he cares about is that you're here, putty in his arms, adorning the hottest thing you have ever worn, fabric barely covering your intimate parts. just touching you like this makes him feel so high on cloud nine, the rush of pleasure in your little whimpers and moans trying to be quiet. nothing is more important than this.

"let them hear, fuck you're so damn pretty i'll cum just from this," his breath is ragged, fast and shuttering as he watches your face contort into the prettiest of expressions while his hand stuffed in your panties, plays with your pussy. fingers switching between flicking and pinching at the little bud and plunging into your slicked hole in slow thrusts.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle

[hurtblossom]

Jealous ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x ex!Driver!Reader (Female)

Summary : She's jealous of the way hes happy without her. Or she thinks he is...

Warnings : angst, saddness, tears, terrible english, did i mention angst?

Masterlist

Labyrinth Jealous

The paddock was buzzing with the usual pre-race excitement, but I could barely focus on the chatter around me. My heart was somewhere else, trapped in the past where Lando and I used to be. We had shared so much in such a short amount of time, and yet here I was, watching everything crumble before me.

"I just can't do this anymore, Y/N," Lando had said, his voice breaking as he looked anywhere but at me. We were in his apartment, the place that had been our haven, now suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar. I wanted to ask him why, to beg him to stay, but I could see it in his eyes—the decision was made. There was a finality in his tone that I had never heard before.

"What do you mean? We were fine… we were happy," I stammered, desperately searching for any sign that this wasn’t really happening. But he didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he stared at the floor, his hands trembling as he tried to hold himself together.

"I'm jealous of the way you’re happy without me," I whispered, echoing the lyrics of the song that had been playing in the background. It felt like the universe was mocking me, as if the words were ripped straight from my heart.

But Lando didn’t hear my whisper. He just nodded, perhaps thinking I was accepting his decision. And then he left, taking with him the future I had dreamed of. The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed in the hollow silence of the room. I stood there for what felt like hours, unable to move, unable to process what had just happened. The life we had built, the love we had shared—it was all gone in an instant.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I hadn’t seen Lando since that day. Our teams kept us busy, and I buried myself in work, trying to forget him. But every time I saw him on TV, or heard his name in the paddock, my heart ached. The pain was a constant, dull throb that refused to go away.

When I was around others, I wore a mask—smiling, laughing, pretending that everything was fine. But inside, I was broken. The nights were the worst. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I was haunted by memories of us. His smile, his laugh, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world.

We met again at the FIA Awards Gala. I was there to celebrate my first season as a Formula 1 driver, but all I could think about was him. I spotted him across the room, laughing with our mutual friends, looking as happy as ever. My chest tightened.

"I'm jealous of the nights that I don't spend with you," I thought to myself, the lyrics looping in my mind. I wanted to be the one making him laugh, the one he looked at with those bright eyes.

I tried to focus on the celebration, on the people congratulating me, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. He looked so carefree, so at ease, like he had moved on without a second thought. And when our eyes finally met, it was like time stopped. I forced a smile, but he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to the group around him. It was like I didn’t exist.

The rest of the night was a blur. I mingled with the crowd, nodded at the right moments, and even laughed when expected, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the image of him smiling, the way he seemed so happy without me. It tore me apart.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The final race of the season, and I was more focused than ever. Racing was my escape, my way of channeling all the pain. But as fate would have it, Lando and I were once again side by side on the grid.

As the lights went out, I pushed all thoughts of him aside and focused on the track. But even as I raced, weaving through the turns, I couldn’t help but think of him.

"I'm jealous of the love that wasn't here," I sang softly in my helmet during a quiet moment on the straight. Our relationship had been perfect, or so I thought. But now, all that was left was this hollow feeling, the lingering question of what went wrong.

We had started out as friends, both young and eager, navigating the pressures of Formula 1 together. Over time, that friendship had blossomed into something more. I had fallen for him so hard, so fast. And I thought he had fallen for me too. We had shared everything—our hopes, our dreams, our fears. But now, as I raced, all I could think about was how it had all been an illusion.

We both finished the race in the points, and as I pulled into the pit lane, I saw him a few cars down. He was smiling, celebrating with his team. I wanted to walk over, to congratulate him, to tell him how proud I was, but I stopped myself. What was the point? He didn’t need me. He didn’t want me. Instead, I pulled off my helmet and looked away, pretending to be caught up in my own debrief.

But as the adrenaline of the race faded, the reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Lando was happy. He was thriving, and I was just a distant memory. The pain was unbearable, but I swallowed it down, plastering a fake smile on my face as I went through the motions.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The end-of-season break came, and with it, the unexpected. We were both attending a charity event, and this time, there was no avoiding him. The tension between us had been growing, but neither of us had made the first move to talk about it. Until now.

He approached me when I was alone, sitting by the garden at the back of the event. The night was cool, the air crisp with the promise of winter. I had been staring at the stars, lost in thought, when I heard his voice.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

"Lando," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though my heart was racing. I didn’t want to show him how much I was still hurting, how much I still cared.

He sat down next to me, leaving a small gap between us. "I’ve been thinking about us," he admitted after a long silence. "I didn’t handle things well."

"I’m jealous of the way you’re moving on," I found myself saying, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I hadn’t planned on being so vulnerable, but there it was. The truth.

He looked at me, his eyes full of something I hadn’t expected—indifference. "Y/N… I need to tell you something."

My heart sank as I watched him struggle to find the right words. "What is it?"

"I’ve met someone," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her name is Magui."

The world around me seemed to tilt, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick. "Magui?" I repeated, as if saying her name would make this nightmare real.

He nodded, unable to meet my eyes. "She’s… we’re together now."

"I'm jealous of the way you're happier," I thought, the lyrics stabbing through my heart like a knife. I had held on to hope, believing that we could somehow find our way back to each other. But that hope was gone now, shattered into a million pieces.

I forced myself to nod, to keep my composure. "I see. Well… I hope you’re happy, Lando."

He finally looked at me, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to heal the wound he had just inflicted. "I am," he said, and those two words broke me in a way I never thought possible.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to take it all back. But I knew it wouldn’t change anything. He had moved on. And I had to live with that.

"I’m glad you found someone," I managed to say, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong. "I really am."

"Y/N, I—" he started, but I cut him off.

"Please, don’t," I said, standing up and taking a step back. "I need to go."

He didn’t try to stop me, and that hurt even more. As I walked away, I felt the tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision. I had lost him. Truly lost him. And there was nothing I could do to change that.

As the year came to a close, I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics that had been my constant companion throughout this rollercoaster of emotions. "I'm jealous of the way you're happy without me," I had whispered months ago, and now, here we were, with him completely moving on, leaving me behind.

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I let the tears fall freely. I cried for what we had lost, for the pain I had caused myself by holding on to hope, and for the love that would never be again. I cried until there were no more tears left, only an emptiness that I knew would take a long time to fill.

Lando had moved on, and now I had to find a way to do the same. But deep down, I knew that a part of me would always be jealous of the life he was living—one that didn’t include me.

And as I drifted off to sleep, the lyrics played in my mind one last time, a haunting reminder of what could never be: "I'm jealous of the way you're happier without me."

Charles version

[onmyyan]

Ashley Hunt NSFW HC'S

A/N: TW'S YANDERE. SMUT, BREEDING KING, ORAL F RECEIVING, F READER, FINGERING, ROPE PLAY, SEMI-PUBLIC PLAY, POSSESSIVE SEX, JEALOUSY SEX, DIRTY TALK, PRAISE KINK

Man's is a service top through and through, he will have you cumming more than once it's just how he rolls.

Likes to tie you up but only with the softest, most expensive rope he can find, his touch is feather-like and leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

This mf not only talks you through it, he coaches you.

"There we go, atta girl."

"Keep clenching that perfect pussy around my fingers sugar, make a mess f'me."

Cowgirl is one of his favorite positions cuz he gets to watch you fall apart on top of him.

He's a boob man, no matter the size, he worships your chest and loves leaving hickeys on them, sucking each nipple hard enough to have you mewling against him, your back arching into his touch.

He love, love, loves when you give him head but 10 times outta 10 he's pulling out before he cums, a choppy, stuttery chuckle leaves him, "Shit Darlin' that mouth of yer's is sinful." as good as you feel, he just has to pull out cuz he feels like with how good your pussy is, the only rightful place for his cum is as deep inside you as he can get it.

Breeding kink up the wazoo, the first time he came inside you he knew nothing else would ever compare.

Grunts and pants of your name, his voice hoarse and desperate for you, whispering praises in your ears, his lips on every inch of skin he can reach while he's pounding into your sweet cunt. The closer he gets to his end, he almost starts to whimper.

His body is strong, years of hard work on the farm have left him sculpted by the Gods and he uses this strength to manhandle you every which way, never hurting you, no he completely dominates you, covers you, he wants you to know exactly who's in charge.

"Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want." His bedroom voice is enough to get your thighs trembling, there's this no-nonsense aura to it, his grin almost looking wicked as he stared down at you.

Please leave scratches down his back, he goes feral for them at the moment, his hips picking up their intense pace, and if someone happens to see/comment on said scratches the next day, he's as red as his tractor, his ears hot and he has to laugh, fanning himself with his hat as his mind is flooded with images of you.

Speaking of the hat, Ash likes to put his hat on your head when you ride him, his toned and strong hips buck into you with enough force to knock you off, but his rough, hot, big hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises, yanking you back into his thrusts with a devious little grin on his face, his canines bared as he growls against your heated skin.

"There we go, that's my good girl, you can do it, Mama."

Big into praise and worship, the most degrading you'll get is if someone manages to make him jealous enough to drop what he's doing, grab you by your arm, and fuck you against whatever surface is closest.

He doesn't even bother taking his pants off all the way, just unzips his jeans and whips out his 8.5-inch cock, already hard for you as he hisses, bucking the mushroom-shaped tip red up against your panty-covered core, he bunches your skirt around your hips, nearly twitching as he rubs the weeping head against the slowly growing wet spot on your clothed pussy.

He'd rip your underwear off with one hand, barely putting in any effort, his blue eyes intense as he glared down at you.

"Son'ova bitch thinks he can just oggle you like that? Bastard has no idea who he's screwing with, you know who you belong to, don't you pretty?"

He doesn't give you the chance to respond, all you can do is hold on for dear life as he teases your clit over and over, the intensity of his actions paired with the aggressive kisses and sucks he was leaving on your jaw and throat made it easy for you to grow wet, your thighs clenching together as he sucked your earlobe between his flushed lips, "I want to hear ya' baby, want everyone out there to hear you fall apart f'me."

Sucks two of his thick fingers in his mouth, soaking them in his spit before toying with your dripping center, his grin is almost malicious as he circles your clit, the bundle of nerves pulsing under his rough touch.

Your twitching pussy drips into his palm as he slips both fingers inside of you, he curls them upward fast enough to make the plush flesh of your thighs jiggle, his pace only increasing when he hears the airy moans slipping past your lips.

He's panting like one of his bulls when they're in a rut, his hard cock pressing against your exposed tummy as he makes you cum hard and fast around his fingers, your gummy walls sucking him deeper as he worked you through your first orgasm.

Before you can catch your breath he's sliding the thick, dripping head of his cock past your twitching hole, grunting as the fat tip slips through the creamy ring. He wastes no time, his hips set a bruising pace, fucking up into you with enough force to have the paintings on the wall jumping, each thrust into your gushing core threatening to send the frames crashing to the floor.

He has your thighs wrapped around his waist, his jeans becoming slightly soaked from how wet and sloppy your pussy was, you could feel him knock the wind from you with each pass of his hips, the way he'd grind his thick cock into you, how the rhythm grew messier and more feral.

"That's right pretty, make those noises for me, tell me whose sweet cunt this is." He said, his grin almost sadistic as he fucks his frustrations out on you.

Type of guy to make you squirt once and try to do it every time after.

Possessive, you can feel it in the way he fucks you, how he loves you, the way he buries himself so completely inside of you.

Type to dress you up in white, almost bridal-looking lace lingerie, just to see you ruined in it, to see your sweet face all fucked out and the once pristine lace covered in your shared sweat and cum.

Speaking of, he cums so much it leaves a puddle below whatever surface he has you against. Long thick ropes, it always makes you tremble when you feel his hot load spill inside you.

His pubic hair is kept trimmed, and his happy trail crawls deliciously up his navel.

He's uncut, his head is particularly sensitive, loves tapping it against your clit.

Loves eating you out, please please sit on his face, all your weight, no holding back just ride his tongue and you'll make him the happiest man alive, he adores how you taste, addicted to the way you cream around his fingers and tongue, the sweet whimpers and moans of his name only encourage him, more often than not you have to tug him away from you by his thick blonde hair.

"C'mon Darlin' don't run from me now." He likes to tease, whispering the words against your thighs as he nips and sucks the flesh, waiting for you to catch your breath so he can taste you again.

Has taken you outside on the farm before, but never when there's a chance someone would see you, he's far too possessive to allow that to happen, people can hear you two all they want, but that god-like sight of you gasping for air as you reached your peak was for his eyes only.

he already thinks of you as his wife, and sometimes, when he's really lost in the heavenly feeling of you gripping him for everything he's got, he slips up, mumbling frenzied fantasies against your mouth.

"My perfect fuckin' wife, gonna make you a mama' gonna stuff you full baby girl."

Likes to fall asleep cockwarming you, one, because the way your over-sensitive body twitches and pulses around his still throbbing cock was addicting, and two, it almost always ended with him waking up inside you, his hips would begin their firm but gentle thrusts, a fresh wave of arousal exploding in his tummy.

[starmocha]

call me master (and i'll call you mine) Sylus/MC | 666 words | AO3 Lines blur between the hunter and the hunted, fantasy and reality. A/N: No, I will not explain myself. MDNI.

There is a hunter in Linkon City who has set her sight on him as her prey, not knowing that she is about to fall into his trap.

Under the dark cloak of night, the city sleeps, lulled to a deep slumber by harsh raindrops. Within his bedroom, Sylus lays upon cool, soft satin, unperturbed by the distant rumbles of thunder, his own mind occupied with endless thoughts of the woman pursuing him and his organization.

How cute, he thinks, that she believes he is the prey.

“Fuck,” Sylus hisses softly, his fingers wrap around his cock, his eyes closed as he envisions this sweet little prey in his grasp. His mouth parts, letting out little gasps, as his hand strokes the hard member in a slow steady rhythm, his mind already drifting away.

Gonna dress her in the prettiest little lace just so he can rip them apart. Have her body on display beneath him, her every curve just waiting to be memorized and mapped along with his kisses and touches. He groans softly, imagining his hands traversing across her smooth skin, eliciting gentle gasps. Pepper kisses along her neck, feel the swell of her breast within his hand, a soft squeeze as she writhes beneath him, her control slipping as she begins to whine for him, her words becoming incoherent the more he taunts her.

Gonna make her his, her eyes will only see him and her body will only crave him. Spread her soft thighs, sink slowly into her wet folds. Look at me, he murmurs, grabbing her chin and forcing her to face him, Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.

Let her get used to him, the feel of him buried deep inside her. Teasingly slow, he pulls out and thrusts into her again, the languid movements enough to make her resolve begin to slip away. Memorize her expressions, watch her fall apart because of him, her resistance weakening before she breaks, finally begging him to take her completely. He laughs, her desperate pleas awakening a desire within him. His hand finds hers, fingers interlocking, as his hips rock against hers, building a faster rhythm.

What sweet begging, he croons, his hands trail down to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulls her to him to meet his thrust. Is this what you want, my sweet little hunter?

Gonna wreck her until she cries and comes undone by him. How sweet her voice will sound, spilling soft mewls and pleas for him, his name a desperate prayer on her lips as he takes her like a beast, fuck her hard and make a mess of her.

Sylus lets out a deep groan, his heart and breathing quickening as he opens his eyes, the evidence of his aimless thoughts on his hand. He sighs and leans back in bed, his head cradled by the soft pillow as his eyes wander up to the ceiling. The little hunter continues to linger in his mind, his idle fantasy of her still has him ensnared with images of her covered in him, lips bruised so prettily by him, her mouth still calling for him, aching for him.

Him.

He laughs, mirthless, the very thought stirs something within himself. To be needed in such a way, why, he could perhaps let himself be addicted to this feeling, to have a sweet little thing helpless for him.

Thunder continues to rumble outside, the rainstorm showing no sign of passing any time soon. Fatigue takes over and Sylus could feel sleep calling for him now, his body relaxing under the cool satin cover as he allows himself to drift off into a deep slumber.

The soft patters of raindrops mingle with her gasping cries, resounding within his mind. What a sweet lullaby, he thinks before he dreams of her, perfectly flushed and helplessly trapped in his embrace.

In Linkon City, there is a hunter pursuing him, but little does she know, he is waiting for her.

[kirby0strombolli]

R U Mine?

matt sturniolo x reader

Summary: After a heated argument, Matt is determined to win back what's his.

Warnings: cursing, kissing, smut.

A/n: Based on R U mine? by Arctic Monkeys!

matt's pov

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me.

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

I don't want to be here.

As I trudged through my shift at the coffee place, every moment felt like an eternity, and I was already having a pretty shit day so far.

I'd currently spilled hot tea on myself, was late to work, and pissed on by a dog.

And hungover from last night.

So, to say the least, today was a shit day.

And I was on edge. She wasn't replying to my texts. She was all that I could think about. I couldn't focus on anything today.

Glancing at the previous messages I'd sent her last night, which she'd read, I sigh, my mind in a thousand places.

y/n <3 me R U mine? 04:25 ✓✓

Carrying a heavy tray of coffee, I glance at the clock, willing time to move faster, to see the girl I'd loved for so long, but it seemed to mock me, ticking away at a snail's pace.

The dull hum of the espresso machine behind me grated on my nerves, and the chatter of customers grated on my ears.

Everything was fucking annoying me.

Before I even have the chance to turn back to my tray, I feel an elbow in my face. Caught off guard, I drop the tray, and the shattering sounds meet my ears first.

I squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth together.

I don't yell. I don't even act. I don't turn to meet whoever it was who had just pushed me off the edge.

'I'm going crazy.' I tell myself, 'being away from her'.

I'm pulled back to reality when I hear disapproving chatter, and my eyes snap open, to be met with annoyed faces.

Clenching my jaw, I almost rip my apron off my body, slamming it on the nearest table before grabbing my stuff and storming out the coffee shop, the door slamming shut behind me.

As I stepped outside, not daring to look back, as if it were planned, thunder rumbled overhead, unleashing a torrent of rain.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, mirroring my turbulent mood.

Great. Just- great.

With a sarcastic quip muttered under my breath, I quickly made my way to my motorbike, rain pelting down on me mercilessly.

But as I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, I stop in my tracks.

Without looking, I knew who it was. Her.

With my head bowed against the rain, I pull my phone out, checking the notification.

I was correct.

As I read the message, my heart jumped to my throat.

y/n <3 me R U mine? 04:25 ✓✓ y/n <3 We need to talk. mine in 10. me make it 5. ✓✓

I sigh in relief, and, not wasting a moment, before revving the motorbike engine, throwing my helmet atop my head, and steadying myself with a deep breath.

I could feel my clothes clinging to my skin, soaked through, but I hardly noticed.

I was numb.

All I could think about was the message I'd just received from the girl I couldn't even live without.

I couldn't help myself.

Even under the influence of alcohol last night, she was the only thing I could think about.

About her being mine.

And I can't help myself

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"

As Matt revved his motorcycle through the pouring rain, each drop felt like a palpable reminder of his urgency.

The rain pelted against his helmet, the sound mingling with the roar of the engine as he raced towards her house.

With each passing moment, his anticipation grew, the image of her lips haunting his thoughts.

The rhythm of the rain matched the pounding of his heart as he neared her apartment.

Each streetlight illuminated the path ahead, guiding him towards his destination.

In his mind, there was only one thing that mattered – for her to be his.

And as he approached her house, his pulse quickened with the promise of what awaited him beyond her door.

Without bothering to park the motorbike, I jump off, tearing my helmet off before making my way to her door.

I stop outside her door, staring at the white paint that coated it's frame.

The as if my thoughts spoke out loud, the door opened, revealing y/n.

Her eyes seemed to shine in the dull light of her apartment room, and the way she bit her lip left me feeling dizzy.

And the way her tiny shorts accentuated her curves...

As my eyes roam over her figure, I can feel hers on mine, too.

"What are you staring at, loser?" she teased, a playful smile gracing her lips.

My heart skips a beat, caught off guard by her words, and I look down nervously.

But as I feel her hands on my face, my anxiety disappears, replaced with desire as I look up, lips pursed about to reply.

She's a silver lining, climbin' on my desire

Before I could say anything else, she pulled me into a kiss, her hands buried in my soaked hair.

Pleasure surged through me as our lips met, the taste of rain and desire mingling in the air.

My hands roam eagerly over her body, pulling her closer to me as my hands rest on her waist.

As we pull apart, she winks with a sly smile and grabs my hand, electricity shooting through me.

Without a word, she backed into the room, drawing me with her like a magnet. I followed willingly, the intensity of her gaze pulling me closer.

Then, as soon as we were inside, our lips met once again, mine moving against her soft ones with urgency.

In the midst of our embrace, I kick the door closed behind us, the sound barely registering as we lost ourselves in each other.

I feel her smile against the kiss and we stumble backward together, willing to find the bed.

As we stumbled backward, we ended up on her unmade bed, our bodies entwined as we lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

Our breaths slowed and I turned to her, scooting closer, my lips hovering above her collarbone.

I pressed my lips slowly, trailing down her neck, biting softly as I felt her tremble against me, yearning for more.

As I make my way back up to her lips, she gently pulls away, and smashes her lips against mine again.

This time the kiss was needy, full of light moans as I prod my tongue at her lower lip before slipping into her mouth, fighting for dominance.

I detach my lips from hers, panting for breath, watching her swiftly unbutton her shirt, pulling it over her head.

''Well, that was quick.'' I smirk and she hits my arm playfully.

I admire her semi-exposed breasts, peaking over the top of her bra, I feel myself get even harder than I was when she opened the door.

I groan as she palms me through my black sweats, my erection clear.

"Fuck." I bite the inside of my cheek as I look down at her, her hair dishevelled, her cheeks flushed, the red marks on her neck stating she was mine.

She still looked beautiful.

But I needed to know one thing.

"Before I do this, I need to know one thing." I lick my lips, awaiting a response.

"I'm ready, Matt." She looks up at me through my eyelashes, her hands reaching for my belt.

I shake my head, the question floating in my head.

She cocks her head, confused.

I brush away a strand of her hair, my nerves kicking in.

"Well, are you mine?" I bite my cheek hard, prepared for the worst.

She looks up in realisation, and with a smirk she replies;

''Fuck yeah.''

"Say it." I demand, pounding into her from behind, the room full of breathy moans and the squelching of my length inside her perfect cunt.

She says something inaudible into the pillow, letting out short whimpers after I grip her hair and lift her head from the pillow.

"Want to hear your pretty noises, yeah? Now say it." I grip her hips harshly and pound impossibly deeper into her, hitting that sweet spot several times as she yells my name.

"Fuck, matt...I'm yours." She whined, bucking her hips up to mine, her knuckles turning white from grasping the sheets.

"Good girl." I grunt, "Gonna come..." I'm barely finished as I feel her release around me, her cunt squeezing around my cock as I release my load into her.

I ride out our highs, with my head thrown back in ecstasy, hips snapping against hers, never wanting to stop as I hear her cries from under me, fuelling me to go on.

Eventually, my pace slows, and I slowly pull out, patting her ass, as I sit up, pulling my boxers back on.

I lean back against the frame of the bed, my arm resting on her hip.

When she doesn't move, I gently climb over her, and lay next to her, looking up at the ceiling.

"You good?" I ask, peering over at her, concerned.

"That was the best sex i've ever had." She slowly turns around to face me, her voice hoarse.

"mhm?" I smile, running my tongue over my teeth with a slow, deliberate motion, the gesture seemingly innocent yet undeniably seductive.

My eyes locked with hers, holding her captive in the intensity of my gaze, as if silently conveying my unspoken desires.

God she looked so good right now.

She nods, a small smile plastered on her face.

I grin, momentarily placing a kiss on her cheek before jumping up to the bathroom.

"All you and that pretty little cunt." I smirk, grabbing a towel and wetting it.

Before making my way back to her, I turn the water on, and grab some towels.

When I return back to her, she's barely sitting up, her lips red, hickeys along her neck, hair a mess.

She still looked like an angel.

"Hey, beautiful." I kneel on the floor, gently prizing open her legs, settling the towel above her cum-covered pussy.

"Who said I wanted to stop?" I look up at her; She has a smirk on her face as she moves the towel aside, caressing my face.

"I want your face in between my thighs so bad," She whispers, and I feel my just soft dick get hard again in the matter of seconds.

I swallow hard, gripping her thighs,"Yeah, ma?" She nods, biting her lip and I lower my face down, not breaking eye contact, working my way up to her cunt, peppering kisses down her thighs, biting harshly as she lets out gasps and soft moans, enough to make me come in my pants, there and then.

When I finally reached my destination, I paused, taking a moment to admire the sight before me. Her thighs were spread wide, her pussy glistening.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I spread her folds apart, not being able to resist the urge to bury my face between her thighs, to explore every inch of her with my tongue.

I traced slow circles around her clit, relishing in the way she squirmed beneath me, her hands clutching at the sheets as she begged for more.

I don't need to look up to tell she's enjoying this as she begins to grasp my hair, pulling on the strands lightly, making me groan, the vibrations from my voice making her even more wet.

I lick a stripe up her wet cunt, my eyes rolling to the back of my head at how good she tasted.

"taste so good, ma."

I can hear her hitched breaths and quiet whimpers, each sound of hers edging me to go faster. I begin to swirl my tongue over wet pussy, my nose brushing over her clit.

"don't stop, matt" she whines, bucking her hips up onto my face.

I plunge my tongue into her cunt, dripping with her slick arousal, and thrust it aggressively into her, my head buried deep between her legs.

Her broken moans and sobs go straight to my throbbing erection, not helping me as I swirl my tongue in and out of her, the lewd sounds enough to push me over the edge.

Her hands find their way to my hair again, and this time she pulls my brown locks hard, the pain subsiding into pleasure, and as I hum against her clit, she presses the back of my head impossibly closer to her throbbing pussy.

"Fuck, Matt- I'm close..." She gasps, in between pauses.

I mumble something inaudible in between her thighs, flicking my tongue over her clit at an ungodly pace.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna-" she whimpered, her voice strained with the intensity of her impending release.

But before she finished her sentence, I felt her squirt on my face, and her body arched against my face as I continued to plunge my tongue impossibly deeper into her, helping her riding out the waves of her orgasm.

Slowly, my pace stops, and I reach up to kiss her, savoring the taste of her arousal on my lips. As we pull away, I lick my lips, holding eye contact.

"So, how are you?" I ask, my eyes scanning her body.

"Good," She giggles against my chest, her cheeks flustered. I straddle her, pressing a kiss to her nose as she squirms underneath me.

I look down at my pants then back up at her.

"You really do know how to make me come."

[grapejuicestyless]

I Just Want To Be Loved.

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summery: It’s been the long haul for you and Harry. You spent everyday together for years. Recently, all you’ve been doing is spending your time apart. Is it so much to ask for him to come home?

Love on tour was there full definition of love. The atmosphere was filled with warmth and a kindness that seemed unique purely for the shows within it. Friendships blossomed in every section and fans showed their appreciation with projects projecting rainbows and meaningful messages to prove it. It was everything you’d think love could be.

So it made sense as to why Harry kept adding more shows, prolonging the inevitable end of the years he’d spent away from home. He, just as much as anyone else, loved to be loved. I couldn’t blame him. If I was him, I would’ve done the same.

Yet still, even though the tour was pure fluff and happiness, it drew a bubbling sadness from deep within every time he frolicked onto that stage. A sparkly, blinding reminder that once again, he was out making a name and I was at home, holding onto the ounces of love he shared over the phone each night.

The excitement coursing through me when he announced the final shows was extreme. Though I pretended to be bummed for the sad ending, and the tough parting from the band and the fans, I couldn’t be more happy to get my Harry back.

I longed for those peaceful moments in the mornings, my hands tracing his nose and his fingers playing with my hair until our touches became lazy and we dozed back off into a light slumber. I missed those loving times that were stolen from me with every new date added.

It felt selfish, to want to take such a core memory from the fans, people who Harry adored like his friends. People I’d grown to love throughout the years of our friendship and eventually our relationship. I’d had Harry at my fingertips for years, they only had him for a night. Yet it was so hard to share him.

Thinking deeply, I fought with my inner thoughts about the delicate line that was selfish and justified until my phone buzzed in a heartbeat pattern on the kitchen counter.

Turning it over, I watched Harry’s name pop up, hearts decorated around his name, “H,” as I had set it as on my phone.

I leaned forward, forearms resting against the cold countertops and the ripped collar of Harry’s shirt twisted between my fingers while I waited happily for the image of Harry to load up on my screen.

“Hi, Baby!” He called excitedly in all his post show sweaty glory. He had curls stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were shiny and sparkling under the yellow lighting of his hotel room.

“Hi, H. How was your show?” I laughed at his exasperation. He made it obvious that he had rushed into his room to call me, the heavy breathing he tried to muffle and the quickness of his chest giving him away.

“Amazing, baby. It’s just so crazy that it’s real, you know? They all came for me and my band! It’s always so surreal seeing sold out stadiums with people who came for my music.” He rambled, the same speech every single time. How he felt so lucky that something so grand could have happened to someone so average like him, even if he was far from average in my eyes.

Still, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Seeing him happy was the greatest happiness of all, to me.

“You know you deserve it. Worked so hard these past few years and now you get to celebrate it with the people who love you. I’m so proud of you.” Our eyes met, a comfortable silence forming while our smiles turned into shy giggles and eyes averting from each other like school children in love.

“I love playing for these people. I cant believe how lucky I am to be with them almost everyday of the week.” I nodded, not feeling the need to respond.

“So, that’s why my team and I were thinking…” He led me into it with false hope. Hope that he was going to say something about coming home to throw a party where I could remain attached to his hip and love on him as he did to me.

“We’re going to add a few more shows before we finish off the tour.” I nodded, still smiling.

“Like in between? Don’t you think that will be too many shows in a week?” I asked, blinded by my excitement to see him. Silence fell over the phone call, this one heavier and more tense.

“Well, not exactly.” He tried to start explaining. The smile hurting my cheeks slowly faded into a confused gaze, proudness and glee turning into hurt and a heart breaking realization.

“We were thinking of adding a few more shows in Asia and Italy around September time. Maybe even have another Harryween in the states!” He explained, looking at the ceiling. His hands eventuated his explanation dramatically, like always.

All I could do was stay silent, heart pounding into my ears and a lump in my throat expanding into a dull ache that only seemed to rise.

“Y/n, isn’t that great?” My face was frozen, eyes widened and looking straight into the blurry green ones on the glitchy FaceTime call.

“Y/n?” He called again, his voice sounding more concerned.

Maybe it was my lack of response, or the tears welling in my eyes. Maybe it was that he thought I was frozen and couldn’t hear him, or maybe all three. But I was stuck. Stuck between wanting to support all of his decisions, trying to do what was best for him and wanting to just be selfish for just a moment.

I wanted to scream at him not to add anymore shows. I wanted to yell at him for making me wait for him for so long. I wanted to be overly emotional until I turned into putty in my own hands. Yet, even in my own conflict, I couldn’t find it in me to say no to him.

“Yeah, that…that sounds great, Harry. Really, I’m excited for you.” He nodded, not fully convinced.

“O…okay. Y/n, are you okay, you look a little pale. Have I said something?” What haven’t you said? You’ve just told me your leaving me yet again.

Stay? Just stay? Please, I want to be loved. I just want to be loved. I want to be loved by you and only you. I want you to forget about everything and just let it be us again.

“No, no. I’m just getting tired. It’s getting late over here. I’d better get to bed. Goodnight, H.” My tone was monotone, lacking any emotional depth behind it. It was obvious everything I said was a lie, but he let himself accept it halfway.

“Okay, sleep well. Call me when you wake up, okay? I love you. Goodnight, baby.” I hung up the phone, throwing it as soon as it beeped to a silence. The rage I felt was ungodly. It was pent up, having been stuffed down like a gross mass of phlegm bubbling up, waiting to be spat out.

Suddenly, the lump in my throat expanded to a broken cry, a painful rip rippling down my body. An ache that had been dull for the past few months coming full surge at me in one painful swoop.

I just wanted to be loved, was that too much to ask for?

———————————————————————-

Part 2 will be coming 🫶

[loukaiitis]

Notes and Journal Entries by Kip Kinkel

A compilation of writings by Kip Kinkel. This is for informational and educational purposes only. Post is below the cut.

Disclaimer: the majority of his writing pieces (that have been released to the public) are only available in a typed transcript format, provided by PBS. Because of this, I am only able to include a few images of the original writing. This post will be updated if any new images come out!

Journal Entry by Kip:

"I sit here all alone. I am always alone. I don't know who I am. I want to be something I can never be. I try so hard every day. But in the end, I hate myself for what I've become.

Every single person I know means nothing to me. I hate every person on this earth. I wish they could all go away. You all make me sick. I wish I was dead.

The only reason I stay alive is because of hope. Even though I am repulsive and few people know who I am, I still feel that things might, maybe, just a little bit, get better.

I don't understand any fucking person on this earth. Some of you are so weak, mainly, that a four year old could push you down. I am strong, but my head just doesn't work right. I know I should be happy with what I have, but I hate living.

Every time I talk to her, I have a small amount of hope. But then she will tear it right down. It feels like my heart is breaking. But is that possible. I am so consumed with hate all of the time. Could I ever love anyone? I have feelings, but do I have a heart that's not black and full of animosity?

I know everyone thinks this way sometimes, but I am so full of rage that I feel I could snap at any moment. I think about it everyday. Blowing the school up or just taking the easy way out, and walk into a pep assembly with guns. In either case, people that are breathing will stop breathing. That is how I will repay all you mother fuckers for all you put me through.

I feel like everyone is against me, but no one ever makes fun of me, mainly because they think I am a psycho. There is one kid above all others that I want to kill. I want nothing more than to put a hole in his head. The one reason I don't: Hope. That tomorrow will be better. As soon as my hope is gone, people die.

I ask myself why I hate more than anyone else. I don't know. But my head and heart want him dead. He only knows who I am through reputation, and I know he is scared of me. He should be. One bad day, and there will be a sawed off shotgun in his face or five pounds of Semtex under his bed.

Oh fuck. I sound so pitiful. People would laugh at this if they read it. I hate being laughed at. But they won't laugh after they're scraping parts of their parents, sisters, brothers, and friends from the wall of my hate.

Please. Someone, help me. All I want is something small. Nothing big. I just want to be happy.

End. New day. Today of all days, I ask her to help me. I was shot down. I feel like my heart has been ripped open and ripped apart. Right now, I'm drunk, so I don't know what the hell is happening to me.

It is clear that no one will help me. Oh God, I am so close to killing people. So close.

I gave her all I have, and she just threw it away. Why? Why did God just want me to be in complete misery? I need to find more weapons. My parents are trying to take away some of my guns! My guns are the only things that haven't stabbed me in the back.

My eyes hurt. They hurt so bad. They feel like they are trying to crawl out of my head. Why aren't I normal? Help me. No one will. I will kill every last mother fucking one of you. The thought of you is still racing in my head. I am too drunk to make sense.

Every time I see your face, my heart is shot with an arrow. I think she will say yes, but she doesn't, does she? She says, "I don't know". The three most fucked up words in the English language.

I want you to feel this, be this, taste this, kill this. Kill me. Oh God, I don't want to live. Will I see it to the end? What kind of dad would I make? All humans are evil. I just want to end the world of evil.

I don't want to see, hear, speak or feel evil, but I can't help it. I am evil. I want to kill and give pain without a cost. And there is no such thing. We kill him - we killed him a long time ago. Anyone that believes in God is a fucking sheep.

If there was a God, he wouldn't let me feel the way I do. ....Love isn't real, only hate remains. Only hate."

Essay about love, written by Kip

"Love Sucks

No, I don't believe in love at first sight because love is an evil plot to make people buy alcohol and firearms. When you love someone something it is always taken away from you. I also would like to add that I hate each and every one of you. Because everything I touch turns to shit. I think if you think you fall in love with someone at first sight it might just be lust. Love at first sight is only in movies. Where the people in the movies are better than you. That is why you go to a pone [pawn] shop and buy an AK-15 because you are going to execute every last mother fucking one of you. If I had a heart it would be gray.

It is easier to hate than love. Because there is much more hate and misery in the world than there is love and peace. Some people say that you should love everyone. But that is impossible. Look at our history it is full of death, depression, rape, wars and diseases. I also do not believe in love at first sight. But I do believe in hate at first sight. Therefore love is a much harder feeling to experience."

Monologue written by Kip for a homework assignment. This monologue was written for the character Tybalt of Romeo and Juliet.

"But you know me, I loathe all of them. I am no longer blind in my hatred, I can see with my hate. Blood will flow until they are all dead. This was the first moment in my life where I had taken the life of another. I loved it. It dispelled all the anger and animosity I was feeling."

Note written by Kip, confessing to the murder of his parents. This was found on a coffee table in the living room of the Kinkel's home.

"I have just killed my parents! I don't know what is happening. I love my mom and dad so much. I just got two felonies on my record. My parents can't take that! It would destroy them. The embarrassment would be too much for them. They couldn't live with themselves. I'm so sorry. I am a horrible son. I wish I had been aborted. I destroy everything I touch. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I didn't deserve them. They were wonderful people. It's not their fault or the fault of any person, organization, or television show. My head just doesn't work right. God damn these VOICES inside my head. I want to die. I want to be gone. But I have to kill people. I don't know why. I am so sorry! Why did God do this to me. I have never been happy. I wish I was happy. I wish I made my mother proud. I am nothing! I tried so hard to find happiness. But you know me I hate everything. I have no other choice. What have I become? I am so sorry"

A concerning note written by Kip on a Spanish worksheet

Another concerning note by Kip

"Respect Sheet" filled out by Kip

[fanaticsnail]

Snail I need you to know I got struck with the most heinous inspiration for a Buggy smut that I am cooking up rn but bc it will be a while let me set the scene

Picture this; Buggy so enamored with someone that he hasn't had sex with anyone else, and every time he masturbates he's imagining them.

So by the time they have sex he quickly realizes he's not going to last. He keeps trying to subtly stop and readjust without letting them know but they catch on and ask what's wrong. He confessed and they assure him that they want him - in whatever way he'll be, but he's not fully convinced.

They joke that if they are that desperate they can always just use him.

And both of them notice how much he likes the sound of that.

So they pick up again, only this time he's not holding back - he wants to cum early so he can watch them use him for their own pleasure like a sex toy. He's begging them to describe how they'd use him, and they do.

They mention his devil fruit powers and how they could always use him as a dildo, or detach his head and ride his face, or both at the same time. Just hearing them describe it makes him cum but he doesn't even let himself finish cumming fully before he's trying to talk through his moans, begging them to use him. He doesn't care if it hurts, he wants it to hurt, he wants to bring them pleasure at his own expense.

They detach his dick - still inside them - and ride his face. He's mostly just sucking their clit, he doesn't care that he's tasting himself because the more he slurps away his own cum the more he can taste them. Until they start humping his face more and he opens his mouth around the base of his dick to stabilize it for them. The image giving him fantasies of them using him another way by fucking his face with his own dick. The more he feels their frothy slit around the base of his cock on his lips the hungrier he gets to feel it himself, so he detaches his tongue and sends it up there. Shouting around himself at the overstimulating sensation of his own tongue wriggling past his shaft through the hot, tight warmth. Finally, he finds their G-spot and abuses it as they grin their clit into his nose. Not caring that the more they tighten around him the more it hurts.

When he feels them cum he does too. When all of a sudden they start squirting and he immediately opens his mouth to latch around their pussy and catch it, feeling betrayed when he realizes his tongue is still inside so he doesn't get to taste it in his mouth.

Once they stop shaking from the aftershocks his dismembered body pries their legs further apart and rips out his dick, his tongue flying to join back with his mouth before it presses tightly shut around his prize. Uncaring as his own warm spend leaks onto his face he moans as he finally gets to taste it.

"More."

The two successive orgasms plus the sudden rush of cold air on his wet dick makes him burn with overstimulation, but he doesn't care.

"Please, baby, use me more." his head tries to chase you as you collapse beside his head, legs unable to hold yourself up anymore. "Please? Take my dick with you, or take my tongue, you always say I talk too much, please-"

His makeup is so smeared.

"please, keep using me, don't leave me, don't let me go, don't care if it hurts. Want it to hurt. Wanna feel you when I walk-"

You've created a monster

Snail.

Snail.

SNAIL.

You can't just go around and say these things and expect me to go ahead and pretend that everything is fine. My goodness. SNAIL. I am absolutely amazed. Gobsmacked. This is bloody spicy. Bloody hell. Oh my gosh.

The way you've set the scene right off the bat is impeccable, truly. I was immediately left too stunned to speak. I was assembling dinner and was like: "Oh? I got an ask? Oh it's from that beautiful Snail! That sweet, beautiful, lovely Snail who always has such kind thoughts and words to share. Oh let me see what they've got to- OH, WHAT THE FUCK, OH MY GOSH, BLOODY HELL!!!"

Had to take a minute to compose myself before I got back to cooking my cassoulet 💀. I had to perch atop my kitchen counter for a bit. Heights brings me an aura of calm 👌.

When you drop the full fic, you have to tag me, love. Oh my gosh.

Everyone. Everyone. Look at what the amazing @sexc-snail is whittling. I'm still stunned.

@feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @lostfirefly @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine look at this!!!

[deandoesthingstome]

Holiday Angel

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 18K; Um. You’re welcome? Get some snacks and water.

@fvckinghenrycavill asked nicely, so I'm releasing this earlier than planned. Also, I think @mayloma might be waiting patiently?

Warnings: age difference (m 40′s, f 20′s; it’s your best friend’s dad for god’s sake), mention of cheating, mention of phone sex, masturbation (f), light!dom (m)/sub (f), praise kink, lingerie, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v sex in various positions, protected sex, light bondage, spanking and ass play; if this doesn’t sound like something you’d be into, I won’t be offended if you scroll on by

A/N: Let's be clear: I've only seen MI:Fallout once. I really only know August from Tumblr. This is an AU, where he is not a traitorous anarchist. I also am not comfortable writing a strict dom, so please take a softer August than you may be used too. Additionally, you are a US college Junior in this story (21-ish). Don't worry, I'm not 21 either. Trust me. It's okay. This is a fantasy.

I've also been extremely self-indulgent here. You're gonna see some names you might recognize. You might wonder what college you go to, where in the US you are, or what year it is. I have taken many liberties. Please absolutely enjoy them. (And if anyone was following along with this post, you may notice a scene change. Trying out my inclusivity options.)

And I have a Spotify playlist I used for various scene inspiration if you're interested.

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker (could anyone really tie him down?), but I do own these words and this story. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header by me. Dividers by the ever wonderful and giving @firefly-graphics.

You dropped the Blue Book for your last final on Professor Marshall's desk and skipped out of the room with glee, suppressing the urge to turn back and grab one more mental image of the grumpy professor for the road.

Christmas break was officially on!

Gemma was waiting in the loading zone outside McKinney Hall, her brand new Audi packed with both your bags and ready for the five hour road trip home.

"Bitch, what took you so long?" she teased, knowing you were actually a little early. You had breezed through the test and ran back to the dorms to meet her. She handed you your favorite iced coffee indulgence, a special treat for making it through the week.

"Let's hit it!" you shouted, turning up the volume on the Spotify playlist Gemma had primed and ready to go.

You swapped driving duties halfway, stopping at a drive-thru to grab french fries to supplement the cut fruit and snacks you packed for the trip.

"God, I am craving salt right now!" Gemma exclaimed.

"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.

"Yesss," Gemma groaned. "And Mikey wants to meet up first thing when he flies in on Sunday. God I hope she gets lost on the way!"

"How's that been going? Long distance and all."

You were glad you and Gemma had decided NOT to room together again after the fiascos of Freshman and Sophomore year. It was only through the saving grace of several grueling classes that kept you library or study group bound for a good portion of the time that you had been able to overcome the petty drama.

It was Gemma's father who had actually suggested she move off campus alone this year and you were pleased to find a lighter class load that allowed you to spend more quality time with your childhood best friend without wanting to rip her face off every five minutes. He was so wise, that Mr. Walker.

But living apart kept you from knowing every single detail of each other's lives, so the drive was a perfect time to catch up on the minutiae.

"It's been weird, honestly. I mean, hooking up last summer was totally unexpected. I can't believe he finally let Chelsea go, but what a fucking night that was!" Gemma squealed as you tamped down your jealousy.

Everyone in high school had the hots for Mike, and you were no exception. But Gemma caught his eye at the last hurrah before heading back to college this past September and, well, girl code. Even if your tastes in men hadn’t already started changing, he was off your list forever now. Especially because he had actually seemed hellbent on making a true go of it with her, promising nightly calls that unfortunately turned weekly as the semester dragged on.

"He's seemed a little distant lately. Distracted. That missed call on Halloween really had me questioning everything he said about giving us a shot. But he's been making it up to me. The phone sex..."

"Stop. Please. I don't want to hear about him slapping one out over the phone," you laughed.

"He sounds so sexy when he comes. Long distance or otherwise."

"Ugh, god. Stop!"

"What? Like you don't love it too! What's up with you and Charlie?"

"Fuck him,” you scoffed. “D'you know, I caught him with Brigette?"

"Your roommate Brigette?"

"Yup. Right before finals started. I need to find a new living situation for next semester, stat!"

"God, why didn't you say something??? Are you okay?"

"I'm surprisingly fine. Things hadn't been so hot lately and honestly, I just don't think he's for me."

"What, missionary all the way?"

You both laughed until the tears were running.

"You should've seen his face when I asked to be on top once. It was like I killed his dog or something."

"Jesus, yeah. You're better off. You need a real man," Gemma declared.

You laughed again, but it came out with a hitch in your throat. A real man was right.

"What was that?" Gemma asked.

"What was what?" you feigned innocence, and held your breath.

"You laughed like you're hiding something. You got a thing going with one of your professors?"

You exhaled as normally as possible. Easy enough to fib your way out of this one with an opening like that.

"God, nothing's going on. But have you seen Professor Marshall? I alternately congratulate and kick myself for choosing a criminal justice major. That man is so fine to look at," you let out a whistle. "It's distracting!"

"So I've heard. Think it's too late to switch majors?"

"Why would I?"

"Not you, silly! Me," Gemma laughed.

"Your father would be so disappointed if you didn't finish your business degree. Who's he gonna leave the company to?" You winked at her, knowing she wanted nothing to do with it. She was only playing along, hoping to find a college boyfriend that would be able to keep her in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.

You didn't think Mikey was it, but hey. Neither your circus nor your monkeys. You chatted for a bit longer before Gemma dropped into a light sleep. Girl could never last in the car as a passenger on long drives. The hum of the road put her out if she wasn’t in charge of driving.

While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker. 

When did this infatuation start? You’d met Gemma, and by extension Mr. Walker, in 5th grade after your parents had moved across town and into a new school district. Mrs. Walker had already passed and you don’t know why Gemma’s father never remarried, but you also never saw or heard about him bringing a woman home to meet her.

In high school, when you really started paying attention to boys, you began to notice how good looking Mr. Walker was. But the most you ever hoped for was to meet a boy who would grow up to be as handsome. It wasn’t until lately, when some of your college professors had piqued your interest, that you began to fantasize about him, too. This might be a long week.

You pulled up the scenic drive and parked in front of the Walker residence around 8pm. Gemma blinked her eyes opened and stretched before getting out of the car.

"You sure it's okay I stay here until my parents get back?" you leaned over the gear shift to call out the door. "I can't believe they scheduled a whole house reflooring right before Christmas and then skipped town on me to boot."

"It's totally fine. Dad's probably gonna be busy 24-7 at the office so we'll have the run of the house. And thank God for heated pools!"

You kept your mouth shut, knowing if you showed any interest at all in why Mr. Walker would be so busy this close to the end of the year your face would probably melt off from the heat you felt every time you thought about him lately. Let alone the image of him in swim trunks in the pool. Or not in swim trunks.

Gemma leaned back into the open passenger door and you snapped out of it.

"Coming?"

You turned your whole body to open the driver door, desperate to hide from her the wanton desire you were sure adorned your face. Coming, indeed.

You both grabbed your bags from the back seat and headed up the pristine sidewalk towards the stately mid-century modern mansion Gemma called a "house". The thing could host a Hollywood premiere party and was decorated with such understated glamor you wouldn't be surprised if it would play backdrop to such a party one day. Or maybe a movie set.

The tall, rich wooden door had a thin vertical metal handle stretching from a quarter of the way down the right side, stopping a quarter of the way up from the bottom. A warm glow streamed through the large panels of windows stretching across the front of the house and exposing the elegantly decorated Christmas tree in the front living room surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture.

When Gemma finally tapped in the key code and opened the door, you stepped into the flagstone entryway and smiled at the white lights nestled in the pine garland covering the banisters of the floating stairs leading up to the master bedroom and sitting area loft, then down to the basement holding several guest rooms, the fitness and media rooms, as well as Gemma's room.

Another couple guest room suites could be found on the main entry level along with the custom gourmet kitchen and pantry, dining area, mud and laundry rooms. You knew Mr. Walker's home office was somewhere on this level as well, though you'd never dared venture down the hall to find it. He’d always made it very clear it was off limits. 

You were dying to sink into the oversized conversation couch that surrounded the sunken floor of the family room in the back of the house and stare off into the fire or out the back windows onto the deck overlooking the pool but Gemma called for you to follow her downstairs first.

"I have to get out of these clothes and then we'll DoorDash."

"No need, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the deep voice call from upstairs. "I made dinner, it's just warming in the oven. I'll get plates ready for you both, so hurry settling in."

"Dad! I thought you'd still be at the office!" Gemma exclaimed, dropping her bags and heading to the landing to give her father a hug and turning her head away to accept his kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I couldn't let you two eat cold takeout. They can never keep it warm on the drive out here." He turned, letting go of Gemma and opening his arms to you in what should have been a normal welcoming gesture if you hadn’t just been fantasizing about him half the ride home. "Good to see you again."

You suppressed a flustered squeak and pressed your lips together to stifle the drool, thankful Gemma was now behind her father and couldn't see your face as you reached for the hug. But he could. Did. For sure. Fuck.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Walker. That's very kind of you," you managed to reply while trying not to inhale his scent too deep.

"It was nothing," he let go of you and stepped back, slipping his hands slowly into the pockets of his dress slacks.

Were you staring at his muscular forearms, visible below the line of his crisp, white rolled up sleeves? God, you were. Get a fucking grip.

"We'll be right back, Dad. Thanks."

Gemma led you downstairs and sent you off to your regular overnight room down the hall from hers. You were grateful both rooms had their own bathrooms so you didn't have to pass her on your way to splash cold water on your face.

How were you going to survive these next few days before your parents came back with your aunt, uncle, and cousin for Christmas? Gemma wasn't wrong about needing a real man. You'd put up with immature boys all through high school.

Once you started college, a series of gorgeous, educated older men led your lectures over the last few years and your desires had slowly shifted. It really was no problem that Charlie had cheated on you. Perfect opportunity to drop him and move on to something more meaningful. And hopefully someone more experienced.

Has Mr. Walker been in your sights all along? No. No way. But here he was now. It wasn't right to think about him this way, but fuck he looked good tonight, that fluffy curl hanging down and that porn 'stache. What else could you call it? He even had a little of the scruff you'd really enjoyed seeing on Professor Marshall. You wondered how it would feel between your... You heaved a sigh. This can not happen.

You splashed another round of cold water and then dried your face, swapped your jeans for light cotton joggers, and then climbed the stairs to join Gemma and her dad in the dining room.

"There you are," Mr. Walker announced, standing at the head of the table with a bottle in his hand. "We thought you'd gotten lost." He flashed what felt like a knowing smirk as you froze in your tracks.

"Dad, don't be daft. She knows her way around the house." She turned to you from her seat to the right of her father and motioned to your usual guest spot across the table from her, to the left of Mr. Walker.

"Oh, let me have my fun, Gemma. Would you girls like some wine?"

"'Girls', dad? Really?"

"What would you prefer?"

"Ladies?"

Mr. Walker chuckled as he picked up the bottle and poured two glasses of wine.

"Right then. There you go, ladies."

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at you as he split his arms and passed the glasses over by the stems. You did your best to grab the bowl, but his fingers shifted up slightly as he released your glass. You heated again as they brushed the back of your hand and you took a sip immediately, trying to cover the pleasure that had to be apparent on your face.

You set the glass down and picked up your knife and fork, preparing to dig into the plate of luscious looking food in front of you. You took a bite and tried to suppress it, but a groan slipped out of your mouth as your eyes rolled closed. You closed your lips and chewed the fork-tender meat, marveling at it melting away in your mouth. When you finished swallowing, you opened your eyes to find Gemma staring at you, mouth agape.

You turned your head to find Mr. Walker's piercing blue eyes trained on yours as he leaned casually against the arm of the oversized dining chair.

"Enjoying it?"

You blinked and remembered where you were, who you were with.

"Mr. Walker, these short ribs are divine!" you declared. 

"Jesus. You act like you never ate a home-cooked meal before," Gemma snapped.

"Sorry, I just," you shook your head to clear the fog. "I mean you’ve always been a great cook, I've just never tasted anything like this."

"It's good, right?" Mr. Walker asked. “I’ve been expanding my repertoire lately.”

"It really is. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed! Gemma, I'm sorry. That was..."

You stared at her across the table with a silent plea, your eyes begging her to say something, anything. You were about to give up completely when Gemma burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face.

"You absolute freak!" she laughed and you let out a breath and laughed with her.

You kept your shit together during the rest of the dinner for the most part. But Mr. Walker poured another few glasses of wine and you could feel yourself getting tipsy.

"I think I need to head to bed, but do you need any help in the kitchen, Mr. Walker?" you asked.

"No, but thank you for the offer. Be careful down those stairs." Did he wink at you?

"See you in the morning!" Gemma called, with a lightness that told you she had well and truly forgiven the awkwardness of just an hour or so ago.

You peeled off your thin sweater and discarded your bra, leaving just a lacy camisole and your joggers. You pulled back the thick pile of covers on the bed and were about to climb in, when a wave of thirst overtook you.

You opened the bedroom door and stepped softly into the hall. The Walkers always kept a mini-fridge stocked in the media room down here. You froze as you entered the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Walker! I was just..."

"I thought you might want a bottle of water for your nightstand."

You exhaled a small laugh as you both spoke at the same time, but then froze again as you watched the way he held the bottle. Low, at his hips. One hand on the base, the other fiddling with the cap.

" Wh..where's Gemma?" you practically whispered, unable to get your voice to cooperate suddenly.

"She's finishing up the dishes. I’m sure she'll be right down," he replied with a firm, confident tone. "Did you want this?"

He gave a slight nod in the direction of his hands, where you saw he was now tipping the bottle back and forth, before finally offering it to you with an outstretched arm and hand gripped firm around the plastic form.

"Here. Take it."

You nodded and reached for the bottle, once again trying to avoid his touch. Once again finding your fingers brushing against his.

“There you go.” 

Your stomach dropped along with his voice as you realized what a terrible idea staying here was. There was no way you were going to be able to hide your desire from Gemma if her father was going to keep acting like this. Time stood still while you tried to move something, anything. Your eyes away from his. Your mouth to say thank you. Your feet to head back to your room.

"Let's get you back to bed," he stepped forward, turning you with a hand on your shoulder, then sliding that hand down your side to your waist and guiding you down the hall.

He stopped at the door frame, pressing you gently into the room. You almost moaned at the loss of his touch as you stepped out of his reach and sat on the edge of the bed, finally finding your voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Walker."

"Sweet dreams." He absolutely winked at you. Fuck.

He pulled the door shut, leaving you all alone with the crazy feelings stirring inside you. This is your best friend's father. You reclined back in the bed. Snap out of it. Girl code isn't just about boyfriends. Pulled the covers over you. Besides, he's like, twice your age, at least. Stared at the dark ceiling, while your fingers shifted under the covers and down your belly. But the way he looked at you tonight. Slipped a hand past the waistband of your pants. He wasn't just being polite. Tentatively touched the heat between your legs.

He was flirting, there was no denying it. Maybe you could have written off the hand brush at dinner, but he was showing off with the bottle of water. He wanted you to look.

You swirled a finger gently through your folds, gathering the slick and spreading it around. You thought about his mischievous grin, his tailored pants, and his strong hands before plunging two fingers deep inside, pulling them back out slowly to circle your clit.

"More," you whispered to yourself, then obliged with fingers deep again, arching your back for better positioning.

"Right there," you moaned quietly, letting the fantasy circle around your head. You pumped in and out, curling deep to find your sweet, spongy spot while you toyed with the idea of letting him touch you.

"Please," you begged, pressing a thumb against your clit, twitching with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer.

You pulled your slick fingers from your clenching walls and focused all your attention on your clit, rubbing tenderly while you imagined his mouth on you.

"God, Mr. Walker!" you gasped, finally reaching your peak. "August," you whispered, rolling to your side and clasping the blanket close around you while you worked to slow your heart rate before drifting off to sleep.

You woke late on Saturday. It was 10 am when you looked at the clock. The floor to ceiling blackout curtains had really done their job.

You skipped the shower, even though you craved one after the long drive and your private activity the night before. Instead, you just washed your face and wrapped a thin robe around yourself before heading up to find breakfast. Gemma was sitting at the kitchen counter typing away on her phone, empty cereal bowl in front of her.

“Oh, good. You’re up! And you didn’t shower already, perfect. Grab a bite and then let’s hang in the hot tub this morning. I have a kink in my neck from that car ride I need to work out!”

You poured yourself a bowl of cereal and mug of steaming coffee and took a seat in a low back leather barstool next to Gemma. She let you eat in silence while she finished her text conversation.

“Ugh,” she exclaimed, slamming the phone on the counter. “I can’t believe Mike got put on shift at the end of finals week.”

“That why he couldn’t get home already?”

“Yeah, says it’s like a right of passage for all new bartenders at the club. Business is light, but they schedule you with a threat that you’ll lose shifts the following semester if you don’t stay to serve the stragglers and the few locals who pop in the bar once the college crowd clears out for break.”

“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. You done?” She watched for your nod. “Well get changed and let’s hit the tub.”

You headed back downstairs to your room and fished your bikini out of your luggage. After changing, you threw the curtains aside and pulled open the sliding door leading to the heated pool deck. Gemma must have had her suit on under her robe because she was already soaking by the time you stepped outside.

You slipped into the bubbling water, immediately grateful for the suggestion. The warmth began to work on your own tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding and you let out a little moan.

“I hear you on that,” Gemma stated. “I hate long car rides! They fuck with my spinal alignment.”

“Yeah, this water feels so good.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head back against the side of the tub, sinking as deep as you could without dipping your face in the water. You snapped up when you heard the splash and blinked your eyes open to see a figure skimming under the water from the far deep end of the pool to the shallow end closer to where you sat in the hot tub.

When Mr. Walker popped his head above water and hung on the side of the pool to say good morning, you were ever so grateful for the steam hiding any lust in your eyes. 

“Hey dad.” Gemma turned from her spot to face him. 

“Are you ladies getting in the pool this morning?” he smirked.

“No, I think we’re just gonna soak and then go veg in front of the TV for a bit,” she replied, hanging off the side of the hot tub.

“Alright, well, I’m headed out to check on a few sites this afternoon. Should I plan on you for dinner or have you made other arrangements?” Mr. Walker asked.

“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”

Gemma turned back to you as you watched Mr. Walker duck back into the water and begin a series of laps. You fluttered your eyes closed so she couldn’t see how blown your pupils were, watching him first speak with Gemma and then propel his body through the water. God, he was practically naked over there. You were practically naked over here. You leaned your head back again to pray for relief.

When you both felt loose and relaxed enough, you climbed out of the hot tub, grabbing an oversized towel from the lidded basket next to the pool to dry off. You were just bending over to reach your lower legs and feet when you heard the splash of footsteps on the pool stairs.

“Right then, that’s me done. And don’t you two load up on snacks while I’m gone. You’ll spoil your appetite.”

You held your breath as he leaned next to you to grab a towel, another mysterious smirk on his face as he rose to face you. You stood and pulled your towel up your body, pretending to wipe non-existent water from your face just to avoid any further eye contact. His body was amazing and his wet swim trunks were clinging to his thighs. If Gemma caught you staring, you were done for.

When it felt safe, you lowered the towel from your face and watched him pad up the staircase leading to the main level before entering the house. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, but luckily Gemma was already heading inside herself.

You showered finally, then donned some comfy loungewear and joined Gemma in the media room where she’d already cued up Netflix.

“Ready to binge The Witcher?” she asked. “They just released the new season last night.”

“Ugh, that man could raw-dog me all day and night!” 

“Where is the lie???!!!???” she laughed with you.

You grabbed some water from the mini-fridge, doing your best to ignore the scene from last night that popped into your head as you settled into an oversized, reclining theater seat. Gemma paused the autoplay on the third episode and asked if you wanted some lunch. You were hungry, alright. But yeah, a sandwich sounded good.

There were still at least 3 more episodes of the season left, when Mr. Walker called down around 6.

“I’m starting dinner now. It’ll be ready shortly.”

“We’ll help,” Gemma called and flipped off the tv. You both headed upstairs to the kitchen. Gemma began to set the dining table, so you sat at the kitchen counter and asked what you could do.

“You could prep that basil for me,” Mr. Walker replied. “Here, like this.”

You watched rapt, as he proceeded to show you how he wanted you to tear the leaves gently into small pieces. When he was sure you had it right, he drizzled some olive oil in a large shallow saute pan and waited for it to warm before tossing in two packages of gnocchi. 

He stirred them around for a few minutes and when he was satisfied by their state, he ladeled them out into a serving bowl. He scooped out a few and offered them over the counter to you and Gemma. You each plucked a warm, crispy potato pillow from the spoon and you sighed when you popped it in your mouth, happy that Gemma was making the same noise and you wouldn’t be called out this time. Something about food with Mr. Walker was becoming increasingly sensual to you.

He added some more olive oil and then butter to the pan, waiting for it to melt before pouring in the heirloom cherry tomatoes he’d asked you to dry off from the colander in the deep sink. He sprinkled in some salt and gave them a quick stir, then turned to the open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

He poured three glasses set on the counter and pushed two towards you and Gemma with his fingers pressed on the base of the stems. Then he raised his own glass.

“I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart,” he tipped his glass to Gemma, and then toward you. “Both of you, of course.”

You took a small sip, watching over the rim as he did the same and you held your breath while your eyes trailed along his throat as he swallowed, hoping Gemma didn’t notice you staring. 

The three of you chatted amicably, while Mr. Walker stirred the tomatoes in the pan until they began to burst, at which point he dumped the crispy gnocchi back into the pan. You watched in awe as he lifted the heavy pan with one hand and gave it a good toss, shifting it back and forth with subtle little wrist flicks that nestled the gnocchi into the simple sauce. Then he stirred in some fresh mozzarella pearls and some of the hand-torn basil, giving you a wink of thanks, before popping the whole thing under the broiler. 

He asked Gemma to carry the salad and offered you the last pour of wine before sending you off to the dining room with a fresh bottle. Seated at your usual spot, you piled a moderate amount of the bubbly dish onto your plate, inhaling the heavenly scent of basil and tomato. Mr. Walker raised an eyebrow as he held a small bowl of shaved parmesan in your direction. When you nodded, he held the dish for you while you sprinkled the cheese over your plate, eyes watching you the whole time. The fact that he simply turned and handed the bowl to Gemma to let her hold it while she sprinkled her own cheese was not lost on you.

The white wine wasn’t affecting you the way the red had the night before, so once dinner was over, you and Gemma helped clean up and then headed downstairs to finish out the season before going to bed. 

You woke yourself up in the middle of the night with your hand down your pants again, teasing your slit while you recalled the dream. 

A rugged man with long silvery hair helped you down off his horse and led you to a blanket in a clearing near a steamy pool of water. From a small bowl, he plucked a tiny ripe tomato with his fingers and gently pressed it into your waiting mouth. You sighed as the tomato burst when you bit into it and shivered when he bent over to lick the juice running down your chin with the tip of his tongue before pressing you to your back and holding you down with a heavy kiss. You whispered his name into the night once again as you came. 

“August.”

In the morning, you peeled the covers back and stretched your way out of bed. The pleasure of the mid-slumber release you gave yourself last night still tingled in your mind. You showered and dressed, then climbed the stairs again searching for Gemma and hopefully breakfast, missing that her door was still closed. You stopped short seeing Mr. Walker alone in the kitchen.

“Good morning. Did you sleep alright?” He spoke with a suspicious tone. It was like he knew. How could he know?

You swallowed and tried to find your voice. “I did. Thank you.”

“Coffee?” He held the french press up and grabbed a mug when you nodded. “I have a frittata here, too, if you’d like some.” 

“Yes, please. Smells amazing,” you inhaled and closed your eyes slowly, remembering the meals from the last few nights as well. “You’re a really good cook, Mr. Walker.” 

“I certainly try,” he winked at you. “So what do you two have going on today?”

“I don’t know. Mike gets in this afternoon and I think Gemma wants to meet up with him.”

“Will you be joining them?”

You blinked and swallowed. How do you tell a father that his daughter is probably going to be getting railed six ways to Sunday tonight, so no, you wouldn’t be joining them?

“Uh…”

“Morning!” Gemma’s cheery greeting broke the tension and you were thankful you didn’t have to tell Mr. Walker that the reunion tonight was for Gemma alone. She gave her father a peck on the cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Gemma, sweetheart, are you meeting Mike tonight?” Mr. Walker asked.

“I am!” she grinned.

“Alone?”

“Yeaahhhh…” she answered, just short of shy. “Sorry dad, I probably should have said something earlier. But you can handle a night without me, right?”

Mr. Walker stared at her for a moment and suddenly all the tension was back in the room. He had to know what was going to go on tonight. How could he not?

“I’m sure I can figure something out. But please, be safe.”

You pursed your lips and widened your eyes as you turned away from them. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Did he have no illusions about the extracurricular activities of his one and only daughter? Sure, she was of age and he had to know what she got up to away from home, but still. If you had to tell your parents you were going to be skipping a night home with them to get it on with your boyfriend, you’d probably melt into the furniture.

“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully. 

“Alright, well, I’m off. I have some work to finish up here and then a few more site visits to make today.”

“On a Sunday, dad, really?”

“We’re very close to closing this deal and it has to be done before the end of the year. I want to be sure the due diligence is correct so I don’t get stuck with a billion dollar dud when everything is said and done.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“About the things I care about, why wouldn’t I be? You two have fun today. Gemma, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not before you get home, unless you’re not going into the office tomorrow?”

“To be determined.” He gave you both a short goodbye wave and headed out.

“Awk - ward…” you sing-songed, once you were sure he was out of range.

“Ugh, I know. He’s not stupid. I mean, he knows I’m active, but it’s still a little weird being so forthcoming with him about it.”

“Has he ever had anyone…” you asked before you could filter the thought.

“I mean, you’re here all the time when I’m home. Have you ever seen him bring a woman around? I know he’s dated over the years, but no one’s ever good enough for him. They never last so he never wants to introduce us. It’s a little sad, really.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to have a swim and sit in the hot tub for a bit again this morning? Mikey’s flight gets in at 3, so I was hoping you and I could head into town for lunch and maybe some shopping and then you could drop me at his place and drive my car back here. Unless you want to meet up with anyone, of course.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m honestly just looking forward to another veg fest tonight.”

You changed into your bathing suit and slipped a robe over top, then met Gemma on the heated pool deck. 

“I can’t get over how warm it is right now! Clearly no hope for a white Christmas.”

“I know! Air’s still a bit chilly, but yeah, sucks. I’d love snow for the holidays,” you replied, dropping your towel on a lounge chair and untying your robe. You slid the fabric off your shoulders, and stepped down the stairs into the warm, salt water pool. You let your body acclimate a bit before dipping your head completely under and pushing off the bottom to glide to the far side in one breath. When you surfaced, you grabbed a hold of the side of the pool and realized Mr. Walker was standing at his office windows, staring down at you.

He held your gaze for what felt like a moment too long, then turned away, presumably toward his desk, but impossible for you to see his face. Which, to be honest, was fine because for a minute it felt like he was going to burst through the windows and eat you up.

The splash as Gemma broke the surface next to you snapped you out of your reverie and she tugged you back from the side, urging you into an easy lap race. You swam back and forth the length of the pool about twenty times before stopping back at the shallow end.

“That all you got?” Gemma called, crawling away toward the deep end again. 

You stared after her, but let your gaze raise to the windows. His window. You could see nothing inside from this far away, the light tint blocking everything. But you knew he was there. Was he still sitting at his desk, typing a memo? On the phone, arranging an international meeting? Or was he back at the window, watching you with his hands in his pockets, struggling not to touch himself? Or fuck, maybe he was touching himself. You sank under the water before Gemma could reach you again.

“Hot tub?” she asked, when you bobbed to the surface.

“Hot tub,” you agreed.

You lounged in the even warmer, bubbling water for another 15 minutes or so, sending the last of your finals week jitters packing. This semester was over. Your relationship was over. There was nothing more you could do about your performance for either scenario. So you closed your eyes and let it all go with a sigh.

“There you are.”

“What?” you opened your eyes as Gemma spoke.

“You’ve been on edge. I know you said you didn’t care about Charlie, but something’s been bothering you. You just look so much more relaxed now. You good? Still okay about the plans for tonight? I don’t mean to leave you all alone, but…”

“I’m gonna be so good, Gem. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go. I want to see if that pop-up shop is still around. They have the cutest jewelry.”

“Yes!”

You found the store you were looking for and bought a few new pairs of earrings. A long, thin drop chain pair and some geometric hoops, asking the clerk if you could wear the gold bar threaders out of the store. You also found a necklace for your mom and some jade bracelets for your aunt. Christmas shopping halfway done.

Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next. 

“I wanna get something sexy for tonight.” She tried on a few outfits and picked out a few for you to try on too.

“This is silly. I don’t have anyone to wear this stuff for anymore.”

“Oh, just wear it for yourself. Don’t you just feel luxurious in silk?”

You agreed and bought the dark blue, high cut silk romper with black lace trim and white flower print. It was maybe the sexiest thing you ever owned. And you were single. Awesome.

You and Gemma walked arm in arm to your favorite lunch spot, grabbing a table on the heated patio. You giggled conspiratorially together about how her evening with Mike would go, making sure you cut her off before she got too graphic. You did not want the details. Those were private, no matter how much Gemma liked to brag.

You hit a few more shops after lunch, nabbing a new sweater for your dad, a book from your uncle’s favorite author, and some art supplies for your cousin. You just had stocking stuffers left, so you hit up the candy shop after dropping Gemma at Mike’s.

You pulled Gemma’s car into the garage and let yourself into the basement to drop your bags down in your room, figuring you would just stay hidden and out of Mr. Walker’s way for the evening. But your stomach rumbled and you realized lunch had been hours ago. 

Before you could make it upstairs, you were distracted by the sounds of grunting and staccato smacks. You peered into the gym to find Mr. Walker throwing jabs and punches against a heavy bag. His back was to you and your mouth watered as you watched his shoulders and traps tense and ripple with each hit. From the amount of sweat dripping down his back and soaked into his tank and shorts, he’d clearly been at it for a while. He was shifting his feet back and forth in a little sparring dance and you were about to get caught out as he rotated around the bag. But you simply couldn’t move.

Mr. Walker had just pumped his arms preparing for the next hit as he rounded his target. He grabbed the bag to still it when he noticed you staring.

“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.

You cleared your throat and suppressed the urge to turn and run.

“Everything’s, uh …just fine,” you smiled at him. “I was just on my way to grab a bite and heard the ruckus in here.”

“Sorry to sidetrack you.” He trained an intense stare on you, head tilting to the side. “But I was just about done anyway. If you don’t mind waiting, I can whip up something after I grab a shower?”

“That would be amazing, thank you Mr. Walker. Anything I can do to help get ready?”

He strode toward you now, grabbing a towel from the bench to wipe the sweat from his face. You watched rapt as a damp curl bounced back into place on his brow. 

“If you want to open a bottle of wine, feel free, but no need to do any heavy lifting in the kitchen. I’ve got it covered,” he winked at you with a devilish grin. Suddenly his hand was at your neck, fingers gently caressing the chain hanging from your ear. “Are these new?”

You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.

“They’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” you practically whispered, trying not to sink to the floor before him.

You excused yourself and made your way back upstairs, wanting to simply escape his commanding presence and seek out a snack to tide you over. 

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” he called to you in the kitchen, his footsteps heavy on his way upstairs as well.

You sat with the banana you’d plucked from the fruit bowl and pondered the scene. 

Would he strip down in the bedroom or the bathroom? Would he stand under the rushing water for a bit and let the warm water loosen his muscles, hand against the wall, head hanging down? Did he touch himself? He had to touch himself, but did he use a bar or gel? Loofah? Washcloth? Or was he just running his hands all over his body now? How did he dry off? Towel over his head to shuffle those curls? Or bend over and get the legs, drying up the body first? Maybe he started with a swipe across his chest? Did he wrap that towel around his waist or just bare-ass it into the closet for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt? Barefoot? Slippers?

“Are you going to eat that?”

You jumped and dropped the banana that you hadn’t even taken one bite of to the counter.

“Oh, Mr. Walker, you startled me,” you gasped.

“You did seem rather in deep thought there. Anything I can help with?”

Why you expected him to be in a ratty pair of sweats and a t-shirt you’d never know. Mr. Walker had donned an elegant pair of loose linen pants and simple cashmere turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide the muscles he’d been training just half an hour ago. He looked delicious.

“Here,” he reached for the as yet unpeeled banana, “let’s just put this away and get you something more substantial, okay?”

You made some light small talk about your recent semester and watched as he breezed around the kitchen, pulling out packages from the fridge and heating pans on the stove. In a mere matter of minutes he had turned a burner on to boil water and chopped asparagus, tomatoes, broccoli, and yellow peppers. When the water bubbled just right he tossed in a bag of fresh cavatelli. He asked about the rest of your Christmas plans while he sauted the vegetables in a fragrant lemon sauce. After draining the pasta, he tossed it in the pan along with a bit of pasta water, stirring to thicken up the sauce before adding some lemon zest and grated parm. Boyfriends? He asked as he ladled heaping portions into two wide flat bowls and set one down in front of you at the island.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” you said as you picked up your fork. “No, not anymore.”

“Please,” he rested his fists on the counter across from you.”I want you to call me August.’

“Okay. August,” you replied, as a jolt of pleasure raced through you straight to your cunt.

“Good girl.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping it was masked as the enjoyment of the bite you took. August Walker wanted you as much as you wanted him. There was absolutely no doubt. When you opened your eyes, his icy blue stare greeted you while his mouth pulled into a sly smirk.

He lounged against the counter across from you, dish in hand, lifting bites of pasta to his mouth and chewing while he listened to you try to explain why it simply wasn’t working out with the men at college. It seemed to you that his breath got deeper with each failed relationship.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, licking an errant drop of sauce off the corner of your mouth. “It just feels like they aren’t really into it.”

“Into what?”

“Well, me. I guess. Into what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Something more…” you took a deep breath to stifle the jitters. You were about to proposition your best friend’s dad. “Passionate.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, brow raised in surprise as if he did not expect that to be your answer. He set his plate down, abandoning the last bite, and slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants. And watched you watch. Yeah. He knew. Saw it the minute you walked in the house two days ago.

You dropped your fork to your plate and slid your chair back, standing to move around the island. 

“Can I help with the dishes?”

“Are dishes what you really want to be doing right now?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest. “August.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them against your cheeks, fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck, but with no pressure at all.

“So, listen. I want you to be really sure about this,” his eyes darted back and forth as he searched yours for any hint of doubt, even as you nodded. When he found none, he bent to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a simple touch, then a swipe of the tongue to ease you open and slip in. The mustache tickled your nose and the scruff felt exactly how you imagined, how you wanted it. You let your mouth fall open and welcomed the gentle probing of his tongue.You whimpered when he pulled away.

He considered you then, for what felt like an eternity before he placed a thumb on your lips and tugged down to your chin then slid his digit into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to gather whatever moisture was available. You closed your lips around his thumb and rolled your eyes back up to him, sucking slowly on his thumb and daring him to pull it out.

He huffed and sneered and pulled his thumb from your lips and tilted your mouth back up to meet his lips crashing down on yours again. When he released your mouth, he licked his lips and then turned you so he could guide you out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs to his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of the bed and you stared up into his ocean-deep eyes.

“My god you are an angel, aren’t you?”

You shivered and gasped, then released your breath slowly. He smirked again.

“You like that? When I call you an angel?”

“I really do,” you whispered.

“Good. Then whenever you’re with me, alone, you are my Angel. Is that okay with you?”

“It is.”

He smiled at you then and pulled his sweater over his head leaving him bare chested in front of you. You raised a hand as if to drift your fingers through the bed of fur covering his chest and tapering down to his stomach. But he stopped you. Grabbed your wrist with one hand and tilted your chin to him with the other, holding your gaze steady and peering deep into your soul to confirm his observation. It was written all over your face. You wanted him to tell you. You wanted him to give you permission. You wanted to hear him say yes. So you asked.

“Can I touch you August?”

“Yes, Angel. You can.” He released your hand and face and you proceeded to touch him. You slid your palm up his stomach to his chest, your fingers snaking through his hair. He heaved a sigh, then placed his hand on your wrist again and pulled you up to standing. You peered into his eyes, bit your lower lip and slid your palm back down, turning your hand so your fingertips hit his waistband first, sneaking under the fabric.

“You sure you’re ready for that right now?” he asked, placing his hand on your wrist for the third time this evening. “I think you might want to rethink that.” He put your hand over the bulge in his pants so you could feel not only how hard he was already but how large. He was silently asking you if you’d ever had a lover whose cock was as big as his and you paused for only a beat.

You knew exactly how you wanted to start. “I’m a thousand percent sure,” you grinned salaciously up at him.

His nod was practically imperceptible, so determined not to let you see how your eagerness was affecting him. How would it look if he were losing all control?

You licked your lips and brought both hands to the drawstring tie, loosening it slowly, then dragging the fabric carefully over his engorged cock. You sat back on the bed as you pushed his pants down his legs, never once letting your eyes leave his.

Not until you were ready to take him in hand did you drop your eyes to drink him in. It was the most glorious sight you could imagine. Long, thick, hard. Jumping slightly as you touched the underside with your fingertips, then settling the weight into the palm of your hands. He had not been wrong at all. No other man you’d been with could compare to his size. And you had absolutely no doubt he knew exactly how to wield it.

You were hypnotized. Even if you’d wanted to look back into his eyes to ask permission before you took him into your mouth, you simply could not tear your gaze away. Your hunger evolved into something more now, and you leaned forward, tucking your tongue under the head while your lips wrapped around him.

You knew there was no way you’d be able to take his full length inside your mouth, but you wanted to try. Wanted to show him you were willing. You gathered your spit and let it glide your mouth over his cock, past the bulbous head and as far down the veiny shaft as you could manage. With a hand firmly gripped around the base, you held him in place while you moved your mouth up and down, letting your tongue drag and circle. You could do this for hours. He might have let you. But the minute you let his tip hit the back of your throat, causing a small gag reflex and a few tears to well in your eyes, he pulled you off.

“Not yet. I’ll have you undone, but not yet.”

You blinked the tears of pleasure quickly away, confused. Charlie had always loved to come in your mouth, knowing an early release would allow him to last longer with you.

“Was it not alright?” you questioned, unsure now if all those boys had been lying when they said you were the best.

“Oh, Angel. It was divine. Do you see how fucking hard I am for you? And you’ll do that again for me. I’ll insist on it. But I want to drink you in myself, first.”

He asked you to undress. You were suddenly reminded of your spur of the moment purchase and would give anything to put yourself on display in it for him. He sensed your cautious excitement, but mistook it for hesitation.

“What is it, Angel? Are you having doubts?” he asked in a gentler tone than he’d been using since you arrived in the bedroom.

“No, August. Nothing like that. I just, well…”

He furrowed his brows at you and urged you to finish your confession.

“I mean, I want this, but I really wasn’t prepared for it to happen. And it’s embarrassing to say, but I have something I’d love to put on for you. Can I do that?”

His relief shifted to a wolfish grin, as he nodded and shifted out of your way. “Please don’t take too long.” He took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke. “I don’t want to take care of this myself.”

You nodded eagerly and rose to stand before him. It took every ounce of restraint not to sprint from the room in an effort to return to him as quickly as possible, but that didn’t feel dignified. You weren’t going to start acting like a schoolgirl in front of August Walker.

Your legs carried you purposefully through the house to your room where you undressed, put your hair up, and quickly showered. After drying off, you fished the romper out of the shopping bags on your bed, tore off the tag carefully, and stepped into the silky piece. Gemma was right, it felt so very luxurious. 

A shock of cold rushed through you. How would you ever face Gemma after tonight? It wasn’t as if you’d been scheming for this to happen. But you weren’t saying no, either. You wanted this so badly. Another deep breath. You’d just have to deal with the consequences later. There was no way you were stopping now.

You searched through your luggage for your long, white crochet cardigan with the front tie. You decided to brush your teeth quickly and took a few extra minutes to dab some of your favorite perfume along your neck and wrists. A makeup touch up seemed useless at this point, but you did fix your hair.

You took a final look at yourself in the mirror and blew out the breath you found yourself holding. This was happening.

You climbed the stairs with purpose, noting the low seductive music drifting from the top floor. You smiled at the thought that August liked to use sound to get into the mood as well. You stopped at the door to his bedroom, just as he was coming out of his own en suite, clothed now in a pair of dark blue silk pajama pants that did little to hide his ongoing erection.

“Oh Angel. I thought you’d gotten lost again,” he teased. “Come. Let me look at you.” 

He reached out his hands as he moved across the room toward you. He grasped one of your hands and raised it over your head, twirling you around once slowly then dropping your arm as you came back around to face him and tracing his hand down your throat and chest, toying with the bow at the front of your sweater.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

You nodded, wide-eyed, hoping he really loved it as much as he seemed to.

“Well, don’t you look good for me?. It’s a pity this won’t stay on long.” He pulled on the strings and slipped a hand inside the sweater, grazing your side as he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you close for a withering kiss. He palmed a breast with the other hand, rubbing against the hard nub straining through the soft fabric. He pressed the small of your back and moved you inches closer to him, his stiff cock jutting against you.

As he released the kiss, he pushed the sweater off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor behind you, once again taking up your hand and pulling you with him as he moved back to the bed. This time, he sat, legs spread wide so you could step between them.

“This really is very pretty,” he toyed with the thin straps of the romper, sliding a finger under the lace and brushing his knuckle against the top of your breast. “Would you like to keep it on a little longer?”

“I would.”

“Very well then.”

He pulled the straps down your shoulders a few inches tempting you with a state of full undress, then replaced them and moved his hands to your hips, smoothing them around to cup your ass and squeeze. He kept one hand on your lower back, pulling the other back around to the front before pushing a hip just off-kilter. You were now on a slight diagonal to him and that allowed him to more easily slide his hand off your hip and down into the crease of your thigh before he slipped a finger under the silk to trace along your folds.

You watched his eyes darken as he discovered the moisture already accumulated, waiting for him. You bit your lip as he turned his gaze to your eyes. 

“You are already so wet, Angel. You’re hungry for this aren’t you?”

“Yes, August. I want you.”

He kept his eyes glued to yours as he dipped two fingers inside your core and you gasped.

“And I want you to fuck yourself on my hand. Will you do that for me Angel?”

Your whole body was buzzing now. No one had ever prioritized your pleasure like this. If you’d had your mouth on a boyfriend’s cock, that’s where it was staying until he came in your mouth or pulled out and slipped inside your pussy. But giving you control of your own orgasm? Exhilarating.

His fingers were curled inside you, stroking and stretching you, smoothing along your walls and seeking out the most delicate spaces as you began to shift your hips against his hand. The heat spread through your body, you relaxed and sank your weight into his hand, your cunt swallowing his fingers deeper. You swept a hand under the curve of your tit, squeezing gently at the hardened nipple while you grabbed a hold of his wrist with your other hand. Using the leverage of his grip, you rocked back and forth into his palm, tossing your head back when he graced you with another curl of his fingers. He had found your spot and was going to exploit that fact, teasing you with a gentle press before spreading his fingers wide inside you.

“Please, August,” you begged.

“Please what Angel?” he smirked. “This is all you.”

You hauled your head back to stare down at him while you undulated your hips, searching for a way to position his fingers where you needed them again.

“Would you put another finger in? Please August?”

He smiled and obliged and you shivered with pleasure, finally beginning to feel the fullness and pressure you needed to reach your peak. If you could just…You snaked your hand around his wrist, moving so you could drag your thumb down beside his and urge it up to the top of your clit. You pressed his thumb into you, guiding his motion and pulling away only when you were sure he would continue on his own.

With his thumb brushing over your pearl, you rocked harder on his fingers, shifting his hand so he had no choice but to curl up into your spot and you held his hand firm in position when he did, praying to all the gods you knew that he would remain right there for just this moment longer.

He stood as soon as you came apart, catching you with an arm around your back as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pulsing pussy.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” He kissed at the heat radiating from your cheeks, then sought your mouth and traced your lips with his tongue, opening you up to him and licking in deep. You moaned as you imagined him doing that again, lower.

“Yes, I know. You’ll get that too,” he declared, pulling away from the kiss. “What do you say, Angel? How do you feel about taking this off now that I’ve seen you so pretty in it?”

You smoothed your hands down your body, enjoying the sensual feel of the silk, still reeling from your orgasm. You nodded as he slipped the straps from your shoulders once more, this time pushing the elastic waistband over your hips and dropping the material to the floor.

August grabbed your ass then slid his hands to your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he turned to face the bed. His kiss was deep and hard as he climbed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, before easing you on your back. With your legs pinned around his waist, he ran his hands along your calves and up to the crease at the top of your thighs where he hooked his thumbs and pressed his fingertips into the flesh of your hips.

You were fully on display for him now. Nothing to stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your body, kindling the flames still licking at your skin. He eased his thumbs toward your apex, caressing your folds and massaging your slick along the edges. He let one thumb circle around your clit, pressing hard when you arched into it. He dipped the same thumb into your core, then withdrew and placed it in his mouth, licking you off his thumb like ice cream and you melted at the site of it.

You felt adored and basked in his worship, tossing your arms over your head and arching your back to press your chest out towards him. He slid his hands up your waist and over your belly to cup and knead your breasts. When he pinched, the pressure was just the other side of comfortable and you hissed with the pain. He eased up, rubbing gently for a moment before squeezing again, with the same intensity. The salacious leer on his side-cocked head sent a wave of pleasure along with the pain and you furrowed your brow and whimpered with content. Satisfied, he let you go and leaned down to kiss you again.

He unhooked your legs and directed you to the top of the bed. You eased back against the tall, plush gray velvet headboard, positioning yourself right in the middle of the California king bed.

“I’m going to eat that delicious pussy of yours now, Angel. And I don’t want you to touch me while I do. I want to try something I think you will enjoy. Will you let me?”

You furrowed your brow and nodded reluctantly, unsure what it would mean.

August climbed up to the head of the bed, knees straddling your waist as he reached behind the headboard. Your heart beat noticeably faster when you saw the thick strands of silk cord he pulled over the top. Holding them both in one hand by the plush lined leather cuffs at the ends of each, he peered down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head slowly once, chin lowered with a shyness you hadn’t yet felt this evening. August grasped your jaw to tilt you towards him.

“Never be embarrassed, sweet thing. This isn’t for everyone. Believe me, I know.” He dropped one line and your chin at the same time, holding the second cuff in front of you and caressing the line. “You have options here. Let me explain. If you want, you could simply hold onto the rope. It’s soft and won’t burn or cut your hands when you squeeze tight. But the risk here is how easy it would be for you to drop it when you are unable to control yourself.”

You blinked with anticipation for the next option, then closed your eyes when he gave you a few more.

“You could always wrap the rope around your wrists or use the cuffs with a loose buckle as well, but still…” He unbuckled the cuff. “I think your best option, the one that will ensure you are able to enjoy every minute of my mouth on you, would be for you to let me tighten these around your wrists.”

He held the cuff wide for you and waited as you opened your eyes to give him an answer. With a wave of confidence surging through your body, you lifted your arm for him.

“Good girl.” He pulled the strap through the buckle and found the right fit with ease. Firm, not too tight, but certainly not loose at all. He tugged your arm down to demonstrate how little reach you had now and raised an eyebrow again with a last chance to beg off. You met his question with an unwavering gaze and he closed and opened his eyelids slowly with a smile before attaching a cuff to your other wrist.

You tested this one yourself with a tug and another thick swallow to calm your nerves and remind yourself you wanted this. So badly.

You could leave your arms winged back toward the headboard or bring your hands in front of your face, with elbows bent close by your side, but you’d never be able to touch him while he was tucked between your legs. As he began to retreat, you reached reflexively for him, even though you were unable to catch him as the rope went taut.

As if reading your mind, he bent then and allowed you to place your hands on either side of his face while he kissed first your brow, then your cheeks below each eye, the corners of your lips.  He finally slotted his mouth against yours and you leaned into it and kissed back hard.

You let out a soft whine when he finally pulled away, but he pressed a finger to your lips to quiet you, then held it there as he eased down your inflamed body, rotating soft kisses and sharp nips.

No high school boyfriend had ever gone down on you. And Charlie wasn’t the first in college, but he’d been the best so far. August blew him out of the water.

When he arrived at his destination, he pulled his hand down your throat and over your chest, fingertips skimming your belly and lifting away right before he reached your mound. 

He stared at first, eyes devouring the site before him. He tilted his head first one way then the other, as if trying to determine the perfect approach. He pushed your knees wide again when you began to tip them in, nervous about the scrutiny. When he finally eased closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation, but the warm wet sensation never came. You felt only his hands slipping under and around your bent legs, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs and holding you in place. You opened your eyes when you heard him inhale deeply and saw his own eyes flutter shut and open again. As he exhaled, the air drifted and teased, first warming and then cooling across your delicate skin.

He turned to nuzzle into the crook of your thigh, nipping and licking lightly on first one side and then the other. When his beard brushed your skin, you shuddered. It was an exquisite tickle, prickly and soft at once and everything you’d imagined. He pulled his arms from under you then, smoothing his hands along the insides of your thighs and pressing your knees wide and still he wouldn’t touch you where you ached for him.

“Please, August,” you pleaded, head straining toward him.

“Patience, little Angel.”

Only when you placed your head back against the headboard, did he dip low again, still nuzzling gently around the edges of your desire. You felt a brush of fingertips down your inner thigh and the back of a finger running up one side of your aching cunt and down the other. Then a finger along both sides, smoothing up then drifting down. At the bottom he captured your pussy lips between the knuckles of two fingers and squeezed, gently opening and closing and finally providing some of the friction you craved. But as soon as you tried to arch into it, he stopped and pulled his hand away.

“I know what you think you need, Angel. I’m here to tell you there’s more. We’ll get there. And I should have said something sooner. It would be better for you to hear this in a less vulnerable state, but if you want me to stop, at any time, I will. Do you understand?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to articulate even the word yes properly, but he wanted to hear it.

“Say it.”

“I understand August,” you spoke softly, then cleared your throat and responded with more conviction. “If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”

He placed a hand on your belly now, heel of his palm pressing just above your clit and rocking back yet still avoiding the tender spot. Then he lifted his palm and swept his finger toward your thigh again, massaging the flesh gently between his fingers and thumb. He did the same on the other side and finally, finally, because you were being so good and laying still for him, he eased a knuckle into your slit and held it there.

And then he craned his neck closer, pulled his finger up through your folds, and let his tongue drag in the spot where his finger was. He pressed his thumb onto your clit and rubbed small circles while his tongue lapped at the slick already forming. When he pulled his mouth away, he slid his thumb down inside you, deep and then shallow as he returned to pressing at your clit.

All you wanted was to lift your hips up to meet his pressure, but you sighed out a low moan instead, trying to be good for him. As if to reward your self-control, he let the tip of his tongue meet his thumb at your sensitive nub and then pulled his hand away so he could close his mouth and suck. When he pulled his lips away, he tugged the kernel with him for a moment before letting it go, then rubbing it with his thumb again.

When his mouth met your pussy once more, it was to press his tongue wide and flat into your folds before curling the tip up and in. He repeated this a few more times, tipping deeper and deeper each time while his thumb still strummed along your button before he finally plunged the length of his tongue right into your core and just like that wrapped his lips around your clit to pull out and away.

You closed your eyes, so he couldn’t see them begging him to put his mouth back where you wanted it, but the anticipation was stoking a fire and you didn’t want to put it out just yet. You felt his fingers push up along the soaking path, tipping into the bud and then dragging back down, middle finger dipping in on the return now. He ran this finger up and down, in and out, circling, sliding, coaxing, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore and you were about to break, he pressed his other hand low on your belly and held your hips in place, like he just knew you were about to shift and search for more friction.

When he could sense you would be good for him, he moved the hand from your belly to cup under your thigh before adding a second finger and rubbing them both furiously from side to side briefly, before splitting his fingers and spreading your labia wide. He dove in to kiss your lower lips, tracing the wide opening before licking in deep and you gasped your eyes open at the memory of his earlier kiss and promise.

As if on cue, any tension you’d been holding in your body at the thought of being tied up, forced to remain still, and eaten out while you couldn’t fully participate just vanished. You sank infinitesimally further into the bed, your arms dropped by fractions of millimeters, and your legs fell open even wider. 

August knew it. And he rewarded you for it. His mouth was on you in earnest now, kissing, sucking, nibbling, licking, lapping, prodding. His fingers were inside you and on you and around you. Two fingers twisted inside, pressing down and spreading you open. One tongue laved at your core, coaxing the heat and juice from you. When it came, you thought he would stop because this is when they stop and climb up your belly and slide their cocks inside you and grind into the wet wet heat, but he didn’t stop.

No he kept going. He kissed your quivering pussy and tongued along the folds, gathering up as much of your essence as he could. He spun those two fingers up now, caressing your walls and seeking out that most favorable spot. The one he already had you coming on earlier. The one he made you make yourself come on. God, what did it matter who was doing what? 

The fact of the matter was, August Walker was giving you your third orgasm of the night with nothing more than his mouth and hands and he still hadn’t let you touch him for very long with either your fingers or your mouth. And he certainly hadn’t placed in cock deep inside your aching cunt.

But what he was doing was continuing to worship at your altar. Well past the point that you could think straight. Was this now four or five? It was all a blur and all you knew was that if August didn’t stop, you might explode. Suddenly it was a problem that you couldn’t move your arms much past your shoulders. 

August was past caring about you thrashing your hips with one aftershock after another. Didn’t mind about having to hook his arms under your thighs and tug you back down the bed each time you tried to grasp the wrist cords and pull yourself off his face. He only wanted you to stop straining so he could show you how much better it could be. He wanted you to relax just like you had right before he’d really started in on you in earnest.

You felt his hand snake up your belly between your legs, creep over the swell of your breast, and rest against your collarbone. At first you resisted the weight, but then you welcomed it. Wondered if it might not be better if he just climbed his whole body right up on top of yours and crushed you into the mattress.

But he wasn’t going to do that, because instead he was going to ensure you came one more time while he scissored his fingers inside you and licked you into oblivion. When you screamed his name, he grinned a kiss against your thigh, crawled out from between your knees, and gently, ever so carefully, eased your legs together and unbent them. 

He traced his hand back up your heaving belly and chest, wrapped his fingers around your throat and tilted your neck towards him.

“So, so beautiful when you come, Angel. I wanted it to last forever for you.”

You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue and whimpered into his mouth because you suddenly realized you wanted that too and it was too late.

“Is it too late?” you whispered and he chuckled at you. 

“You should pace yourself.” He knelt beside you and unbuckled your wrists, kissing each one as he freed you from the cuffs, then dropping to his back beside you. “Thank you, for opening yourself to me.” 

“How in the world are you thanking me after that?” you laughed, still shaking from the explosions, but moving toward your next goal. “And also... Can I get back to this now?”

You began to scoot down between his legs, dragging his silky pants with you and tossing them to the floor. 

“If you’re sure you're ready.”

You trailed your fingers up his thighs as you moved back into position on your belly. He was still hard as rock when you reached for him. You licked your lips at the sight, then sent your eyes straight to his while your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock with a smile. You worked him slow and methodically, tonguing along his length, tasting his warmth. You were salivating for this man, dribbling spit to help ease your tour of his member, and yet you knew you’d never reach the base. You let your hand twist around him, squeezing and grabbing while you worked your mouth down to meet it.  

“Your mouth feels so good on me, Angel. You like doing that, don’t you?”

You peered at him through your lashes and nodded, attempting another wide smile to agree. His hands smoothed up your arms, over your shoulders, and into your hair. You didn’t need him to hold your head against his cock, but he grunted and shifted his hips to press deeper into your mouth. You would have done this for him all night. Let him lay back and enjoy being worshiped the way he had worshiped you.

But with one hand on your nape and one right on top of your head, August helped himself to the pleasure you were offering without hesitation and began fucking your mouth in earnest. With each thrust, you felt him edge deeper until he finally found the back of your throat. 

“There you go,” he grunted. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so deep.”

You could do nothing more than open wide and let him drive, feeling the saliva drip from your mouth with no opportunity to swallow. He set a steady, punishing pace and while you were enjoying it, you also couldn’t help but imagine this must be what your aching pussy would feel like shortly. Your tears were flowing freely now, too, spurred on by the constant stimulation.

Suddenly, he pulled you off and you were confused for one brief, maddening moment until you heard him command you.

“Hands and knees.”

You pressed yourself up as he shifted to his knees as well before returning his hands to your head and dragging your mouth down his cock once again. You felt his grip on your hair at your neck tighten, his pace even faster than before. In just moments, with your watering eyes rolled up as far as they could go to watch him sneer down at you, you felt his release coat the back of your throat, hot and salty, as he came with a growl.

He hauled you up, shifting his knees forward to meet you, pressing his chest against you, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the tears from your cheeks and praised you. He settled back against the headboard, taking you with him and scooping your legs over his, nestling your head against his chest and holding you close. You could feel his heart pounding, the intensity matched only by the speed at which yours beat. His fingers traced along your spine, caressing your shoulder and at the same time he held your hip on his lap and tortured you with tender touches along the flesh of your thighs and legs.

You trailed your fingers over his chest and angled your head to nip at his neck. 

“Was that okay?” he asked, uncharacteristically soft. You bit the urge to respond with sarcasm.

“I loved every second of it.” You punctuated your response with a kiss, cupping his cheek and tonguing his mouth open to lick into the softness.

He groaned and kissed you back for what felt like forever until you began to feel a nudge at your thigh. You reached down between your heated bodies to find him, wrapping your hands around his girth and stroking him to full erection. Without breaking the kiss you began to shift, sliding a leg to either side of his hips. Just as you had raised up, ready to slide him deep inside you, he gripped your shoulders tight and pulled away.

“Wait.”

“Why?”

Without answering, he easily lifted and deposited you on your back beside him, before rolling to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled out a foil packet and bottle of lube.

“Because I care about you.” He tore the packet and pulled out the condom then squeezed a few drops of lube in before rolling it over his engorged length. He added a few more drops and pumped a few times, before dropping to his back again beside you.

“Now, where were we?” he grinned.

He slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you to him, guiding your leg over his hip again. On your knees, you took him in hand but before you could position his tip at your entrance, he pressed two fingers deep in your slit, massaging and stroking, scissoring you wide. You felt the heat building again and dropped your head back with a moan, still dragging your hand up and down his length. Your pussy was squelching with the juice he was coaxing and you felt his hand slip out then wrap around yours as you both directed him inside you.

With just the tip, you already felt fuller than you ever had and you sat with that feeling for a moment, hands still wrapped around the rest of his cock and keeping you from sliding all the way down.

Once you felt yourself relax around him, you nudged his hand away with your own and began to sink, slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation. His hands gripped your hips all the while as he gazed in wonder and concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fucking fantastic,” you replied, rocking back slightly to view the point of his disappearance inside you.

“Do you remember what I told you before?’ he asked, a little more heat and darkness creeping into his voice.

“I can stop you at any time.”

“Yes. And if you can’t get the words out, pinch me.”

You were going to nod your understanding, but remembered he liked to hear it as much as you did. “Yes, August.”

“Good girl.”

August began a slow roll of his ups, nudging up into you and shifting you off balance for a moment. You caught yourself with your hands on his chest, then sat back up to start a slow grind of your own. For several long minutes it was just you riding him slowly, like an easy afternoon stroll, completely in sync with his movements.

When he began to pump faster, you braced your hands on his legs behind you trying to hold on for dear life. He gripped you by the hips and held you in place while bucked and then he ran his hands up your sides and hauled you down to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close, kissed you so hard, rocked even deeper into you than you ever thought possible and just when you thought it was about to hit you like a ton of bricks, he flipped you to your back.

He started a slower pace now, still holding you close, still ravishing your mouth. But when you wrapped a leg around his back, he lifted himself onto his arms and looked down between you then over to the leg at his side.  With a devilish grin, he reached back and under that leg, shifting it up over his shoulder. He picked up the pace, returning to the steady jackhammering you’d experienced while on top. And while you didn’t think deeper was possible, here he was, moving your limbs around to find more space. He pulled your other leg up now, no longer leaning forward, but up on his knees, holding you open before him while he pounded away.

This was more than you’d ever felt before. This was precision fucking at it finest and you were barely holding on. 

“You can let go, Angel. You can come around my cock, squeeze me hard. I won’t break,” he commended you, letting go of one leg and reaching down to massage your clit again with his thumb. That was all it took.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!” 

“That’s it, Angel. I can feel you right now,” he growled. “Feel all the heat bursting inside you, feel your walls squeezing around me. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes. My god. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck! Please,” you pleaded, panting and feeling like you were about to pass out. “Please.”

“Please what, Angel?”

“Please…” you didn’t exactly want him to stop but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“I want you to come. Please August.”

He clenched his jaw and gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out and flipping you one more time to your hands and knees. You could barely hold yourself up, sinking to your forearms, head into the mattress. But your ass was still in the air and your pussy was still on display for him and he took you one more time. He lined himself up again behind you, sheathed himself in one long simple stroke, holding still for one moment.

“You're still coming, I can feel it. God, you are amazing. You’re taking me so good.”

Incoherent babble is all he got in return. Even if you’d wanted him to stop, you could no longer form full words, let alone sentences. And how would you ever find the strength to reach back to even graze his skin, let alone pinch it? Whatever. You were riding a wave of the longest high you’d ever been on while August resumed his magnificent assault on you.

After a few more strokes, you felt him swell even larger than he already was, filling you up more fully than he already had. With one final animal roar, he released himself with a hand pressing against your lower back, slowing stilling as he filled the condom inside you. You shuddered with an aftershock and wanted to drop to your belly with him on top and never pull that blanket off.

After just a short moment, you felt his hand at your entrance, fingers drifting lightly through your folds before he gathered himself and the condom in hand and pulled all the way out for good. He pushed against you lightly to urge you flat. You vaguely registered words of praise coming from his mouth, but you were so spun off into oblivion you couldn’t be sure what they were.

From some far off place, you heard water running, then felt a dip beside you, and the wet warmth of a tender caress between your shaking legs. Somehow, you were maneuvered to your back to receive another gentle swipe, before you felt his lips press against your mouth, his tongue seeking your own.

It took everything you had to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze.

“Is that what you meant by passion?” he asked.

“It’s a start.”

August chuckled and gently eased himself to the side of the bed, swinging his legs off and standing. He tilted his head from side to side, loosening a few kinks before he strode with purpose into the bathroom. When he returned, he held out a blue silk robe and helped you into it once you stood from the bed. He tied the belt around your waist, then reached to the floor for his  matching pants. As he stood, he gathered you in his arms for another kiss before he took your hand and led you back downstairs.

Trailing behind him, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself deposited on the deep plush conversation sofa. August flipped on the switch to the gas fireplace and leaned over to drop one more kiss on your lips, then told you to sit tight.

The warm glow of the fire mesmerized and hypnotized you, not that it was hard. You had been overstimulated and now the exhaustion was settling in. You felt high, completely spaced out. You had never felt so thoroughly and completely fucked in your entire short life. 

August returned a few moments later. Or was it hours? You had no idea. All you knew was that he placed a live edge wooden serving tray holding a few bottles of water, some fruit and cheese, a few small bowls of olives, almonds, and fig jam, some cut baguette, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of bubbly on the low ottoman in front of you, then eased himself onto the couch next to you.

“Let’s get you hydrated,” he leaned forward and grabbed a bottle from the tray.

“How did you know I’d want that?” you teased, harkening back to your first night home.

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” August opened the bottle and pulled you close, tipping the cool, sweet water into your open mouth, eyes watching you closely to see when you’d had enough.

“Only for you,” you purred, reaching for the bottle so you could take another drink for yourself. When you pulled the bottle away from your lips, August bent to steal another kiss from you.

“A little dangerous, too.” He shifted a knuckle along your jaw, catching the soft indent in your chin to bring your face back to his. He kissed you for what felt like a millenia and you could have stayed that way all night. And then it hit you.

“Dangerous how?” you asked, when you pulled away reluctantly.

August closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, still leaning forward from the broken kiss. He sat up straighter when he exhaled and opened his eyes.

“My sweet Angel. I really didn’t mean to spoil our moment, but in a million years could you ever imagine this night could happen again?”

He held your gaze, and wouldn't let you turn away. You could see the anguish in his eyes. This wasn’t a lie. 

“But why would…?”

“You deserve to know the passion you crave. I wanted to help you learn about your desire. You are a strong, intelligent, thoughtful, and gorgeous woman. I wanted you to see you are capable of getting everything you want. You only need to be sure of it. And perhaps understand you can ask for more.”

“But I want you.”

August didn’t reply immediately and in the silence you knew he was thinking of exactly the same person you now were. If you were ever going to keep this night a secret from her, you’d have to make it a solitary event with no hope of a repeat. How were you ever going to deny your craving?

“Come here.” August set your bottle of water aside and drew you into his arms, leaning back against the sofa as you relaxed onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head and ran a hand slowly up and down your back.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.

“Life rarely is, Angel. Come on, let’s just enjoy the time we do have. What d’you say, hmm?”

You nodded and sniffed away the beginnings of your tears. August gently sat you up, then prepared small bites of food from the tray and brought them to your lips. You soaked in all the attention, certain you’d never feel so safe and loved again in your life.

With some energy back, you felt your mood lighten. August was right. You should make the most of what time you have left. You reached for the champagne bottle, peeled off the foil wrap, and untwisted the thin metal cage surrounding the cork. August chuckled as he watched you struggle with the cork, so you stuck out your tongue and handed the bottle to him.

“Please?” He popped the cork with ease and poured the golden liquid for you both.

“A toast?” He raised his glass to yours and watched closely as you mulled it over.

“To one night only.”

“One night only.” He smiled with a nod and watched as you took a sip, then stole a kiss before taking a drink from his own glass. He grabbed a strawberry from the tray and held it to your lips as you took a bite. “Now another drink.”

You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth. 

“When you try this on your own, be sure to get an extra-dry champagne,” August cautioned. “Moet brut won’t work with this flavor combination.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind when I replenish my champagne cooler at school,” you teased. “What about this one?” You took another bite of strawberry and a sip of champagne, then leaned in for a kiss letting the flavors swirl in your mouth alongside his tongue. August continued the kiss, even as he set his glass aside and grabbed for yours to set it down as well.

He eased you to your back on the couch and slipped the tie loose from your robe before he finally broke the kiss.

“That’s also a good one. You’re quite the quick study.” He pushed the fabric aside, baring your chest and stomach, then appraised you for a moment before running his fingers over your breasts and down your belly, letting his mouth follow the trail.

You let out a soft moan and spread your legs involuntarily as he shifted to the floor and tugged your hips around so your ass was hanging off the sofa to give him better access. He let your legs rest over his shoulders and you sighed as he once again slipped his tongue and fingers through your folds, ravishing your core to bring another orgasm crashing over you. 

You barely had a moment to recover before you felt the belt of your robe sliding out from underneath you and in a swift heartbeat, August had you flipped over, urging you onto your knees on the cushions with your arms leaning on the back of the couch. You peered back at him, while he shifted the fabric of the robe over your back, letting it drape off to the side and leaving your bare ass and legs completely exposed to him. He watched you carefully as he rubbed a large hand over one cheek, then drew back and spanked you hard. He was already caressing the red mark before the shocked gasp left your lips. He quirked an eyebrow at you in a silent question. Again?

You pondered the feeling and decided that yes, August Walker could spank your ass. You turned your head to peer over the back of the couch and jutted your hips back towards him wordlessly asking for more, which he gladly gave. The sharp smacks were sometimes single, sometimes doubled up, but always tempered with a gentle caress before he dealt another blow.

You were dripping for him. When he dragged two fingers through your soft petals to gather the nectar, you glanced back to see him wrap his lips around his fingers and lick your taste off them. Then he reached his hand in the pockets of his pants and withdrew another foil square before dropping his pants altogether.

“You planned this,” you cried in feigned scandal.

“I hoped for it. Not the same thing,” he gently replied, rolling the condom over his swollen length. “But it’s always good to be prepared. Speaking of which…” 

August reached forward to grasp the silk belt he’d tossed aside, then drew one of your arms back behind you.

“May I have your other arm, Angel?”

You offered it without hesitation, shifting off the back of the couch so that all your weight was now on your knees. You felt him loop the belt around both wrists separately before he wrapped the tie a few more times around both. Holding the binds of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to guide his sheathed cock to your soaked pussy, gliding easily into your core. Once his hips met yours, he started a commanding pace, pumping in and out of you all the while holding you in place with your hands.

As if he could feel you losing control, unable to stay up straight any longer, August let the belt slips a few inches through his fingers before gripping tight again, giving you enough room to bend forward and rest your chest on the back of the couch while he continued to pump in and out of you with a devastating pace, the juice from you squelching around his cock.

“You fucking take me so good, Angel. Such a pretty pussy. Can you hear her talking to me? She says the sweetest things.”

He set a hand on your low back and pressed his against your stretched entrance, letting it drag along his cock as he moved back and forth and gathering some of your slick on the pad. You felt him ease his hand up, fingers pressing into the flesh of your asscheeks before he teased around your puckered rim with his thumb. When the moan escaped your mouth he knew he was on the right path and wasted no more time. He slipped his thumb right into your hole and held on while you bucked back against him.

“Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you? Fucking my cock so good. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. August, fuck yes.” You could barely form more words so moans of pleasure and squeals of delight were all he heard but they were enough to spur him on and lead him down the path of his own release just as soon as he felt yours.

With one practiced tug, he released you from the bind and eased himself out of your still pulsing pussy, then guided you to stand before him, pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck while he pulled the spent condom off his softening dick. He grabbed a napkin from the tray and wrapped it in a wad before spinning you to face him and kissing you hard.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

He led you upstairs one last time, abandoning the snack platter and half-full champagne bottle. He took you through to his bathroom, turned on the warm spray jets of the tiled shower, then disrobed you completely. You stepped into the glass cabinet and turned to grab his arm to bring him with you.

Without prompting, he grabbed a bar of the same bright citrus scented soap you always found in your guest room and lathered you up. If you weren’t about to fall asleep on your feet, you’d succumb so easily to the way his fingers danced across your skin, caressing every nook and cranny like they knew the way by heart. He spun you into the water to rinse and set to cleaning himself.

And now you had your answer. It was body wash, with a woodsy, pine scent. He rubbed it all over his body with his bare hands. He watched you watching, mesmerized at the way his muscles moved and the carefree way he gathered his own package and lathered it with suds before shifting you gently out of the way and rinsing off under the cascading water. 

Yes, he leaned an arm against the wall, but that could be just because you were with him and he wanted to encase you while he kissed you, tongue probing gently and mouths moving in unison. He groaned as he pulled away.

“We’d better get some sleep.”

The fluffy towel he dried you with was heavenly against your skin. He toweled himself as well before leading you back to his bed. 

“Are you comfortable sleeping here with me tonight?” he asked. “If you’d rather wake up in your own bed, I’d understand.”

It was uncharacteristically sweet, the way August was now wondering how you would feel in the morning, knowing you could never have him again. 

“I’d like to stay with you for tonight, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay.” He pulled the covers back and slipped in, holding them up for you to join him. Wrapped in his arms, head against his chest, you found yourself drifting off faster than you would have liked. You loved pillow talk, but supposed you’d managed that with him before, during, and a little after downstairs by the fire. Besides, pillow talk was for lovers. Which you were now assured you were not.

You woke later than you’d planned, your body still clearly recovering from the unexpected vigorous activity. August was not with you and though you knew the morning would not be a time to whisper sweet nothings, still you’d hoped to wake in his arms, just as you’d fallen asleep. The robe he’d lent you last night was draped across the foot of the bed and your lingerie was folded neatly on a chair nearby. 

You shrugged into the robe and grabbed your things, then headed downstairs where you could smell coffee already brewed but found no sign of August in the kitchen. You continued down to your room where you realized you’d left your phone all night. Shit.

When you picked it up, there were about ten messages from Gemma and you braced yourself as you opened the app to read them. Yes, in the end she wondered where the fuck you were and why you weren’t answering her but there was no urgent call to get her immediately. The night with Mike seemed like it had gone exactly as planned.

She only wanted to let you know Mike’s friends were throwing a New Year’s party and of course you were invited. Mike even had a university friend coming in from out of town for the party and Gemma wanted to set you up with him. The guy in the picture she sent looked cute enough. Apparently he sailed and had dark, wavy hair, a little shorter than Mike’s. His smile was amazing, but to your eyes, he was a boy. He would never compare, you were sure.

Just as you were contemplating how to let him down gently, your phone rang and Gemma’s number appeared. You took a deep breath and hoped nothing in your voice would betray you.

“Hey!” you answered brightly.

“Whoa, too much. Too loud. Calm down.” Gemma was hungover, for sure.

“Sorry,” you quieted. “Everything okay?”

“I think I drank a liquor store last night. Mike’s still passed out, but I need my bed. Can you come get me?”

“Now? Yeah. Of course. Let me just get my shoes on. See you in thirty?”

Gemma agreed, though she wished you’d ignore some of the speed signs along the way and you laughed, promising to grab a Vitamin Water from the fridge before you left.

You noticed another message come through just as you hung up with Gemma. August was in his office. He didn’t want you to think you’d been abandoned, but he had to get an early start for meetings and wanted to let you sleep in. You texted him you were off to get Gemma. Chat bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before a solitary frowny face finally appeared.

With no idea how to respond and not a lot of time to spare hashing it out, you dressed quickly, grateful you’d already washed off last night’s extravagance. You grabbed the keys to Gemma’s car, grabbed a water from the gym, and headed back out to the garage.

Gemma was still too dazed to inquire much about why you were absent from your phone last night and you didn’t offer any conversation about it. The whole drive was pretty quiet except for the radio. August was gone when you got back and while Gemma couldn’t care less, you were a little let down. You’d hoped you’d be able to at least sit with him a bit while Gemma slept off the rest of her hangover, but that wasn’t to be.

He kept himself pretty scarce the rest of the week, too, texting Gemma he wouldn’t be home for dinner any of the nights until you were scheduled to head back home for Christmas Eve. Four long-suffering nights and days filled with late breakfasts by the pool and dinner and drinks in town with Mike and other friends. You barely got to say goodbye to August as he breezed off to one final meeting the morning of the 24th before Gemma came upstairs to grab coffee.

Christmas was low key with just the six of you at your parents. No other relatives were traveling in and no one else nearby had invited you over for anything special. Gemma always celebrated alone with her dad, too. Your aunt wanted to take you and your mom to the sales the day after Christmas and that was an all day, exhausting affair. You were in bed by 9.

Over the next five days, you visited with Gemma and Mike, old high school friends, and your parents a few times. But never August. Gemma said as wonderful as Christmas was with him, he was stressing about the deal and spending all his time at the office since the day after. He needed to get the deal signed by the 31st at the absolute latest. And his company’s New Year’s Eve gala was set for the Grand Hotel downtown. He’d offered you both tickets, but Gemma really wanted to hang out with Mike.

Will was nice enough, if a little on the arrogant side. He was a good kisser and you could kinda imagine what he might be able to do with that mouth placed somewhere else, but then you really thought about it and decided the missing facial hair would change the feel. Nevermind. He was at least gracious about the letdown.

The drive back to school was a little somber. You were still trying to figure out if there was any possibility of a roommate swap. Gemma offered to just put you up at her place for the semester, but you didn’t want to sleep on a couch fantasizing about her father while she was in the other room. Maybe Brigette would just spend all her time at Charlie’s, like you should have.

A few days after the start of classes, a small package arrived for you in your mailbox. You’d grabbed it on the way to your Criminal Procedures lecture and stuck it in your backpack to open later. When you got back to your room after taking advantage of office hours to clear the theme for your research paper, you sat cross legged on your bed and opened the small, cardboard box. Inside, nestled in tiny, delicate packing peanuts, was an even smaller, embossed white paper sleeve surrounding a small, red velvety square box.

Inside was a thin, delicate gold chain, with a charm of black onyx arranged in the gold outline of an art deco wing. An angel's wing.

You searched the box for a card and finally found one buried under the packing material once you realized you’d opened the box upside down. There was a simple message to you.

'Angel. This belongs on the part of you I never got the chance to chain. Remember all you are worth and take it as you can. Yours for one night. - A’

Taglist (if you are crossed out I can’t tag you)

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @feelmyroarrrr @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @mollymal @summersong69  (Old times sake? @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sebbytrash @anotherwinchesterfangirl )

Holiday Angel: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings​ @plaidcat4815 @augustsprincess  @alexakeyloveloki @gofirityouguys

[cherryyan49]

Pretty girl

an isaacwhy fic

she/her prns, uses of [name]

based on the song : pretty girl by highvyn

a/n: hi ! um I've never wrote fics before, so I would like to apologize in advance c: I was listening to this song and had an idea, so I attempted to write it <3 I've also never written x readers before so erm anyways! here's isaac being a simp

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

7:16 pm

The white numbers read on Isaac’s computer. He glanced around his room after dispersing from his friends a few minutes prior. Low music played from his speakers, filling the silence, as he scrolled through his instagram seeing your newest post. It was a little camera roll dump, consisting of images of you, plants and other random things that had some significance to you. He smiled to himself, pretty girl, he thought. Isaac would like to not admit to the fact that you have a lingering effect on him, constantly infecting his brain as if you were a zombie. But in fact, you’re not a zombie, you’re one of his closest friends, one of his pretty friends. A certain notification startled his trance,

‘hii !! would you like to come over for a small dinner, just me and you? I made some really good fajitas, and I don’t want to drive :T would you please ignore the mess <3’ –[initial]

He read your texts, come over– dinner– please ignore the mess. Immediately, he sent a response and grabbed his keys. The latter couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see you, let alone have dinner with you. Your text made him more giddy than just thinking about you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

Isaac stood in front of your black apartment door, contemplating whether or not he should rip the bandaid off tonight. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider talking about these feelings to you ever. Especially not after all of his friends told him to do otherwise. He shook off his thoughts and knocked on your door. And there you were, the pretty girl, his close friend, asking him to dinner, standing right in front of him. Smiling, he followed you inside and towards her table. He couldn’t help but look around the girl’s place as if he hadn't seen it over a million times.

“What mess am I supposed to be ignoring here, [name]?” Isaac asked, carefully snooping around your mini dining room. His face softened, hearing you giggle;

“The kitchen is a wreck because I didn’t want to clean up for once. The rest of the place should be fine, but that’s why I invited you,” she teased back.

He playfully rolled his eyes, smiling at the way you smiled, gently grabbing his plate and handing it to him. Isaac admired the way you held yourself, even making a chicken fajita taco, he loved every single second of it. You turned to him, gesturing for him to make his plate, giggling once more

“You know I want someone to look at me the way you look at my lovely cooking.”

Isaac was taken aback for a moment, thinking he got himself caught staring at, uh your cooking? He made up a silly comment, defending that your cooking looks by far better than anything he’s seen at his house. The two of you bantered, with the occasional sharing of glances that made Isaac feel all giddy again. He just couldn’t explain it, you were like an angel who spawned right in front of him. You felt so close, yet so far from his grasp. He knew that you didn’t want him, he just knew. You guys had been friends for years, he didn’t want to lose you over some silly feelings. [Name] was going on about how her friends won’t leave her alone about her dating life, and the group. She was going on about multiple things, but Isaac had to confess,

“If I’m honest, I don't really like your friends. They’re obsessed. Not– not all of your friends, just the ones who struggle to listen to you when you’ve asked them many times,” his breath hitched, “That came out a little harsher than I intended.”

You looked away, thinking about what he said. He wasn’t all wrong, your friends weren’t the best when it came to these things, especially your best friend. Isaac quickly reached towards you, apologizing once more. His mind clouded with guilt, there was no way I just blew it again, he thought. 

“No, no you’re right, they are a bit obsessed with it, I just hate it. Like, talk to me about something else for once in a while, you know? I don’t want to talk about my feelings about someone all the time,” she said, giving Isaac a reassuring look.

“Yeah, I get it. It does seem frustrating having people act like lice in your hair,” he joked, getting [name] to laugh a bit. 

“Shut up,” she giggled. “Was the food good? I feel like I can talk to you for hours, sometimes I forget the main reason why I brought you here.”

Isaac giggled softly, “Yes the food was good. And I’m glad to say I guess have that impact on some people,” he began looking away, tossing his invisible long hair off his shoulder.

Isaac felt the hours go by after talking to you, getting lost into your words on the couch as it hits half past nine. He just never wanted to leave, which freaked him out at first. Him realizing that you really do have an effect on him, and he was scared. Isaac? Being scared? Yes. Nick had talked to him a few days prior about [name]; saying how you were hard to catch as you seemed to be rejecting people left and right. But Isaac knew deep down that the reasoning was because they didn’t fit you. They didn’t ‘complete’ you in the way you wanted to be completed, even despite being a more ‘independent’ type of girl. No one could really recognize it, until Isaac pointed it out. Hell, even Yumi called Isaac crazy for liking you, he understands why, but he can’t help but not be able to fathom the idea of liking one of his best friends.

After what felt like an eternity, Isaac grew some balls. Isaac brushed your hair out of your face, swiping through it gently, to fall off your shoulder. You looked at him, flushed but confused. He continued talking as if nothing ever happened, rambling about his newest video idea. [Name] sat there, still basking in what had just happened, completely wanting to ignore the slight butterflies the other had just given her.

“Woa, it’s so late, I guess I just have to stay over,” Isaac teased, carrying out his words. You rolled your eyes, “Oh nooooo, I guess you have to sleep on the couch while I sleep in my wonderful cozy bed,” she bantered, dramatically sighing. 

Isaac laughed softly, he couldn’t help but think to himself.  He thought he should just wait and explore his feelings, rather than explode them right here, right now. After all, this friendship was worth more to him than trying to complicate things for you.

[Name] looked at him, not wanting him to leave just yet despite it getting late. You could tell he was in his own world, taken over by his thoughts for a brief moment. As you smiled, you got up, offering your hand out.

“I say, we go to the gas station and get snacks, but I mean only if you want to,” she said, looking around.

“You could just tell me you wanna spend more time with me, I understand you know,” Isaac’s face scrunched in a teasingly manner as he continued, “But I guess we can do that, and maybe I could take you for a drive.”

“Oh be quiet, who wanted to stay here just a few minutes ago?” she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“And who wants me to stay here?” he pushes back, as he takes her hand and pulls her in for a moment. Isaac felt a rush of confidence wash over him, as he looks down at the girl. He leans down to her ear, smiling while whispering, 

“Last one to the car is paying.”

And he booked it. [Name] just stood there, eyes widened, realizing she might actually be insane. Her, liking HIM?? Or him possibly liking her?? Has your heart normally race around him? Or was that just now? You were in denial to say the least. You locked your door and ran after the tall one.

Thick silence filled the car as Isaac drove to the nearest gas station. The only noise that was heard was the faint singing in the radio, as [Name] looked out the window, replaying the actions from before. Parking, Isaac glanced over at you, basking in the way your face was highlighted in reds and purples from the neon signs in front of the store. He would be lying if he said his brain wasn’t getting drunk off the way you got out and waited at his door for him. You both went wandering into the store, grabbing multiple items, and Isaac insisted on paying.

After settling in the car, Isaac asked if you had anywhere to be tomorrow morning, gaining a ‘no’ in response. He nodded and proceeded to drive aimlessly. He didn’t have a set place on taking you, he just wanted to drive around the city, just to see your face light up from the way the buildings were lit. Isaac couldn’t help but smile to himself, seeing you sway around to the low music as he found an area to park and sit. Everything she did, every move, every word, every facial expression made Isaac swoon. Making a few jokes here n there, just to hear your laugh, and vice versa.

[Name] laid her head down on his shoulder, looking at the view of the city in front of her. She grabbed his hands, messing with his fingers as he giggled. Isaac’s phone vibrated, causing [name] to sit up and look around nervously.

“Who was it,” she asked curiously.

“Just some dumb tiktok link Larry sent me, I don’t think any of the guys know I’m here with you actually,” he replied. 

You slowly nodded, “Secretive I see.” Isaac laughed lowly, “Yes, but only because I jumped up so fast when I saw your message earlier.” 

She smiled to herself, sharing glances with him. Isaac knew better, but he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned in a bit, smiling softly causing [name] to look at him.

“This may be a mistake, but I really wanna make it,” he says inaudible as he glances at her lips to her eyes back to her lips. She kisses him. Isaac was taken a bit surprised, but he most definitely didn’t complain. Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, and she moved back to look at him, hands still placed. 

“You were pining too much, I was getting impatient,” she apologized. 

“Well sorry I wanted to be a gentleman,” he replied. 

“Okay gentleman, you’re not allowed to stay the night anymore,” she teased, removing her hands from the other, and moving back. 

“That’s not very nice to someone you just kissed,” he faked being hurt, putting his hand on his heart as if it got ripped out. 

“I don’t have to kiss you in order for you to stay the night, of course.” 

“Oh but you should,” he egged on. 

“I knew kissing you would make your ego implode,” she teased back, playfully rolling her eyes. Isaac kissed her this time, resulting in a very defeated whine from the other. 

“So I can stay the night again? Your couch is quite comfortable you know.” 

[Name] closed her eyes and sighed, “Sure you can stay the night. BUT just the couch, we can talk about this in the morning.” 

Isaac smiled, "Whatever pretty girl. "

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

a/n: hi again, I hope you enjoyed that and if you didn't, don't tell me :] I hope it wasn't tooo bad, as I literally never write so aaaaa, who knows maybe I'll write more often idk !

[filmofhybe]

Smallest among Millions - Jake Sim - PT1

synopsis : you know you aren’t well known in your company, but when your company is having a celebration of their 50th anniversary, you went all out, coming out of your comfort zone. Causing your boss - Jake, to admire you more than just you in the office building.

Pairing : jake sim x fem! Reader

genre : Boss x employee AU! , fluff

word count : 815

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

a/n: listen I know this boss x employee typa story is so overused but I really like these type of story and Jake would fit the boss role sm so yuh🤭 and I’ll be posting part 2 soon! Also my requests is now open! Feel free to drop your ideas and confessions, maybe even some enha pics🫶

part 1 | part 2

“Oh y/n, since you’re still finishing off those papers, maybe you should finish them for me as well. Thank you so much. I will see you tomorrow!” One of your colleague said, as she places another stack of paper onto your desk before walking out. You sighed, staring at the almost finished stack of paper in front of you. Well not anymore because now you have another stack.

And that’s your life, you were always doing your colleague leftover work. It was because you’re too nice to say no. And because they know you’re the smallest among millions of them. Of course, if you have a lower status than your them so you will automatically take over their leftover work as a sign of respect. Don’t want to lose the job now do we?

You continue finishing off their work before handing it to your boss - Jake Sim. Jake was the boss every women in the company falls for, imaging themselves having a little office love with him. Greeting him politely with their hands on their chest if he passes them. Sometimes even messing up their work just to enjoy the little scolding from him. (But ending up throwing you their work to finish off.) But to you, he was just a normal man. A normal business man that’s trying to get all his employees to perfect their work. And you were always the one who perfects it, which makes him admire you.

“Y/N, you should know how much I want to promote you. But if I do, my department will fall apart, I hope you don’t mind staying here a bit longer.” Jake exclaimed while maintaining eye contact with you. You shock your head suggesting you don’t mind staying in the department longer. His eyes lit up from your answer before handing you back the stack of paper.

“You should come to the party tomorrow. I hope to see you there so I can tell others how good you are at working with me.” He smiled  sweetly to you. “I’ll think about it sir.” “Is Jake to you, y/n.” He noted you before sending you off. You grabbed your bag as you left the now dim office. So ready for the weekend. And also the party.

“Mimi I really don't know what to wear.” You particularly yelled into your phone. The day of the party is probably 9 hours before you have to arrive at the exact venue.

“Right so stop stressing out, what about that white dress with sparkly heels? How does that sound?” Mimi asked, hoping to finally get your approval.

“Are you insane? I’m not getting married.” At this point, you want to rip all your hair out from stress. Staring at your closet blankly.

“Oh my god how about that black long dress, with a split hem and black heels. Is the most classic thing on earth. And I know you will devour that fit so hard!” You can tell she threw her hands into the air as she said the last line. So you took out the dress she described and some black heels you spent your whole savings on. The dress fit you so perfectly, it clings to your curves and the heels gave you some height, making you look tall and confident.

You walked into the hotel, thanking the security for holding the door for you. You held onto your purse tightly trying to find the venue.Realizing it was on the top floor, you pressed the elevator button that would take you there. As you stepped out of the elevator door. You told the registrar who you were before stepping inside the venue.

It was such a luxury place, with tall ceilings and big chandeliers. Huge windows allow you to look straight down at the city. Small bar on the balcony as well as in the middle of the venue. You grabbed the champion that was offered to you before walking around the place, not realizing how many people had their eyes on how gorgeous and angelic you looked.

“Y/n!” You turned around, breaking your thoughts, realizing it was Jake who called for you. He was surrounded by a lot of people, who’s now staring at you. This was way out of your comfort zone. But nonetheless you walked over because your boss called you.

You smiled at the other people sweetly as you stood beside them. He put his arm around you before introducing you to them.

“This is y/n, one of my best employee, she is the reason our sales are so high.” He took a chance to praise and brag about his amazing employee. The others were super surprised by his comment.

"Jake, not only do you have a good employee, you even have a pretty one.” One of the women said, flashing you a sweet smile. You thanked them for all their compliments.

Jake was really flattered by the amounts of compliments thrown towards you. Because he knows what they said was true. Your beautiful, smart and hardworking. Getting butterflies everytime he sees you walking into his office with his other employees work in your hand, making him fall for you more. But other than that, he is finally relief that you’re comfortable around more people who works in the office.

Part 2 coming soon🫶

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids

To be on my taglist, please comment or reblog to be added :)

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt 4

Hiiiiiiiii! Sorry this took a minute, It's midterm season and I just adopted a new cat because I can. It's been busy. Hope you enjoy :p

Word count: 4.7k

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3

Lae’zel tilts her head, eyes closed, as she listens to the distant shouting. You open your mouth to ask her what’s happening, but even with her eyes closed she somehow senses what you’re about to say and holds up a hand, silencing you.

Patience has never been a virtue of yours.

You bite your tongue and bounce on the balls of your feet while you wait. A glance at Astarion reveals a similar image. His head is inclined in the same direction as Lae’zel’s, his eyes unfocused. It seems that you and Gale are the only two with inferior hearing. He at least seems much less frustrated by that fact. You watch as he draws some sort of glyph in the dirt with the toe of his boot.

In his defense, after the day you’ve all had, some shouting isn’t all that alarming compared to abduction and mind flayer parasitization. 

Still, you can hear the differences in the voices even if you can’t quite discern what they’re saying. There are at least half a dozen people not far off from you, people who might be able to point you in the direction of a healer.

“We were right,” says Astarion after a pause that felt as if it spanned centuries, “There is a civilization up ahead.”

“Not for much longer,” Lae’zel drones in a bored voice.

“What?” You ask at the same time a horn sounds somewhere in the distance, followed by a rallied war cry.

“Goblins,” Astarion mutters.

Because why not?

You bite down on your bottom lip until you taste blood, weighing your options.

If a band of goblins takes whatever camp they’re attacking they’ll kill the only people you’ve managed to find after an entire day of walking. Your days are numbered now, and you don’t have many left. There doesn’t seem to be a choice to make. You turn to start down the path leading to all the noise when Astarion catches your arm.

“Wait.”

You try to pull out of his grasp but his grip only tightens. 

“What?” You snap.

“Why do we have to play hero for every sad soul we come across? This will make what, the fourth life or death altercation of the day?”

“Those people will die without our help!”

“People die everyday! Your inability to accept that fact is going to get us all killed alongside them.”

You rip your knife from its sheath and flip it up, holding the blade an inch from his throat. A normal person would have let you go and backed away from the weapon aimed at their jugular. Astarion only raises an eyebrow in a silent dare. Not the response you expected, but it is nice to see him on the receiving end of a knife to the throat for a change.

Lae’zel, who seemed to be regarding your disagreement with a cool disinterest, perks up at the sight of a weapon drawn. She unsheathes a blade of her own and begins cleaning her nails with it, watching you and Astarion with a sort of wicked approval. 

Gale, who appears to be the most reasonable one of the group, takes a step back. He eyes you both warily, but you get the impression that he's mildly satisfied to see Astarion in the same position he himself was in just a few hours earlier, a weapon aimed at his head. 

As a group you are rather dysfunctional.

“Those people currently being slaughtered may know something about the tadpoles in our heads, or at the very least may be able to point us to the creche. We’ve been wandering the wilds for hours. We have days before these parasites rip us apart. If you want to leave the best chance we have stranded to be murdered by a pack of goblins, be my guest, but I’m not taking that chance. Let. Me. Go.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow, but he drops your arm.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Tav.”

“I hate to agree with him” Gale chimes in, “But it seems rather reckless to jump into battle without a plan.”

Lae’zel flashes the men a feral smile, gleeful at the prospect of bloodshed.

“The plan is to eliminate the goblin scourge. If that is too complicated for you, remain here until we return” She drawls 

She turns and stalks away, following the sounds of screeching goblins and howling wolves.

Astarion tilts his head back and sighs deeply as you follow her, muttering something under his breath.

Still, as you pass him you feel him silently fall into step behind you. Gale reluctantly trudges along, lamenting about how much he misses his library.

The noise of the battle grows louder with every step. Swords clang and wolves snarl loud enough to shake the ground under your feet. You break the treeline and find yourself at the narrow entrance to a small clearing in the middle of the dense woods.

To your left is a large rocky hill that overlooks the clearing. To your right, a cliff that connects to a massive wall split by a heavy wooden gate.

You stand in the bottleneck, watching chaos unfold in the field ahead. A horde of goblins- stout little creatures with razor sharp teeth and a bloodlust that probably rivals Astarion’s, are throwing everything they have at a human scouting party. A few tieflings stand on the wall, frantically shouting for back-up and returning fire when they aren’t being pelted with arrows. 

The air is heavy with the smell of blood and smoke.

Astarion takes a deep breath through his nose and hums a low, pleased sound that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Lae’zel observes the carnage and laughs, a sound you admittedly didn’t know she was capable of making. 

In a flash her greatsword is in her hands and she’s diving into the fray with all the murderous enthusiasm of a rabid displacer beast. 

She blocks the swing of a bugbear’s club and throws it off balance, but misses her next attack on the creature as it throws itself to the side. She hisses in rage and stalks after it as it scrambles away on its hands and knees.

Her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed, and several goblins turn, redirecting their murderous rage towards your group.

You hear Gale begin muttering the sleep incantation and do your best to provide cover as he chants, launching magic missiles at any creature that comes too close. You do a decent amount of damage, knocking more than one goblin clear off its feet, but they don’t seem to notice the pain. They only seem to get angrier as they charge the humans at the gate. You could use an archer right about now.

Where the hell is Astarion?

You whip your head around, scanning the battlefield, but he has disappeared completely. Disappointment fills you when you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. You didn’t take him for a coward but it’s possible you misjudged him. You don’t have time to dwell on it now. 

A flash of silver catches your eye in your search, and you’re momentarily distracted by a strange newcomer cutting his way through a throng of goblins. He’s not dressed like the other humans, his clothes are dark and well armored as opposed to the brown leather outfits woven with leaves the scouting party are wearing, presumably for camouflage. He’s brandishing a blood soaked rapier, and you can’t tell exactly what from here but you think there’s something off about one of his eyes. 

He laughs as he cuts down a snarling goblin. There’s something so distinctly familiar about him, but now is neither the time nor place to find out what it is.

A goblin whose arm was singed by one of your missiles turns and locks eyes with you, smoke curling up from his burned flesh. The smell has bile rising up from your stomach. It lifts its scimitar above its head and screams a battle cry, sprinting for you with a promise of death in his eyes. 

Time itself seems to slow as you raise a shaking hand. Your power recoils when you reach for it. Your vision swims. The strain sends a spike of pain through your skull. You’ve used all the magic you can. 

The goblin is a few steps from you now. The rusted blade he holds above his head is dripping black blood, and so are the pointed shark-like teeth he bares at you in a snarl.

You suppose this ending is slightly preferable to becoming a mind flayer, though not by much.

You brace yourself as the goblin lunges for you, but a brief flash of light slams into it mid-air, and it drops like a stone at your feet. 

You stare at it in stunned silence for a moment before an unexpected sound rattles its small frame.

Is it… snoring?

You whip your head toward Gale, whose eyes are glowing with pure white light. He nods at you and continues casting, launching magic missiles of his own at one of the goblin’s wolves. 

You take the rescue for what it is and plunge your knife into the sleeping monster. It twitches once, and the snoring stops.

You’re out of spells. You have firebolt as a cantrip, but every time you use it your vision blurs and vertigo wracks your body. You wouldn’t know how to shoot a bow even if you had one. If you want to continue fighting the goblins you’re going to have to get a lot closer.

You leave Gale to his casting on the outskirts of the battle and cut your way towards the center, forgetting that you’re opening yourself up to fire from the archers positioned somewhere on the hill above you.

You realize far too late that you don’t have a shield, but you also notice that somehow the arrows that were previously raining down from the top of the hill have inexplicably halted, and you have a clear path forward. 

You spot Lae’zel, who is battling a bleeding one-armed bugbear and a snarling bare-faced wolf. The wolf lunges for her, and she’s forced to dodge backward toward the bugbear who uses his one remaining hand to slam his metal club into the back of her head. She blinks dazedly and sways on her feet for a moment.

The wolf leans back on its haunches and prepares to lunge for her throat.

You won’t reach her in time. 

You sprint for the creature anyway, fear for your companion fueling you, when an arrow sinks into the wolf's side. It yelps and frantically gnaws at the arrow, attacking the source of its terrible pain, ripping its own flesh in its panic. It provides just enough of a distraction for you to change course and leap onto the back of the bugbear, burying your knife in its throat. It gurgles for a second, choking on blood, and drops to the ground at Lae’zel’s feet. She turns with a shout and beheads the yelping wolf in one swift strike. 

Panting, she turns to you. One of her pupils is blown wide, the other just a slit.

“I didn’t ask for your assistance” She growls.

“You’re welcome” You reply, which earns you an unfocused bleary-eyed glare from the concussed Githyanki.

An agonized scream pierces through the clang of weapons and the crackling fire. You turn just in time to see a human archer a few yards away staring down with horrified eyes at the grinning goblin who’s scimitar is buried in her stomach.

Fuck.

You change directions and lunge for the girl, hurling a firebolt at the goblin’s head in the process. It screeches, dropping the scimitar to swipe at the flames engulfing it's pointed face. Vertigo almost takes you to the ground, but you manage to clumsily catch the girl as she drops to her knees, her skin pale and clammy.

She babbles frantically as you lower her slowly to the ground.

“I can’t- please I’m only t-twenty I d-don’t wanna die” 

Her hands are slick with her own blood and they clutch at your shirt as you assess the damage. The only healing spell you know is lesser restoration, and while that may buy her a few seconds of relief from the blood loss, the wound is still open. Even if you did know a healing spell powerful enough to save her, you couldn’t cast it in the state that you're in. You can do nothing to solve the issue of the blade protruding from her belly. 

You apply pressure to the wound. There are only a few goblins left alive, the battle will soon be over, but every second the fight drags on feels like an hour as you hold this girl together with your bare hands.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” You try to assure her, your voice shaky.

She swallows dryly and shakes her head.

“It doesn’t”

That can’t be good.

“That’s good. A healer is on their way. You’re going to be al-”

Before the last word can leave your lips something launches into your side, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. Your vision doubles and a formless black blob sways above you. You blink a few times and your eyes clear. The goblin you lit on fire smiles at you as best it can with the skin of its face crisped black and melting off. Your eyes shift sluggishly to the dagger raised above its head, just in time to watch it fall. You hear the wet squelch of the dagger ripping through the flesh of your shoulder. 

It doesn’t hurt at first, it almost feels as though your arm has fallen asleep. A riot of pins and needles shoots down all the way to your fingertips and back up again. Then comes the explosion of pain so intense your body jerks under the goblin that still sits on top of you. It cackles as you tense in a silent scream, twisting the blade until your vision darkens around the edges.

It happens so suddenly you almost miss it. One moment the goblin is twisting the blade and laughing, the next it’s gurgling and choking on the arrow protruding from its throat. You reach up with your uninjured arm and yank the arrow free of the creature’s neck, watching the life fade from its yellow eyes as it pitches to the side and slides off you, leaving the dagger buried in your shoulder.

Your gaze snaps up to the top of the hill, where you see Astarion, his bow raised, eyes trained on the dead goblin that fell to your side. At his feet, two more goblins lie dead with their throats slit, their bows still clutched in their hands. 

That’s the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

~

You fall through an endless black void. The wind rushing past your ears and whispering over your skin is the only indication you’re moving at all. The darkness is so potent you genuinely can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed.

You spread your limbs out as far as you can, hoping to feel something, anything, but you’re falling through open air.

Oh. You’re closer than I thought you were. I wasn’t expecting you so early.

A voice that is not your own bounces around inside your skull. 

There’s a blinding flash of light, your eyes were open after all, and reality shifts. You don’t land but suddenly you aren’t falling either, you’re standing on a rocky island floating in an endless purple sky. In your cursory glance you find a shadowy figure sitting on the edge of the island, legs kicking over the vacuum of empty space below them.

You freeze, unsure where you are or how you got there.

“Come,” Says the same voice you heard in your head moments ago, “Sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

The voice is soothing, gentle, and you take a step forward.

~

With a crack you're suddenly yanked from the dream world and back into your body. You find yourself still sprawled on your back on the battlefield. There’s a sharp burning sensation in your cheek, and a shadow leaning over you, haloed in sunshine. It looks almost like…

“Astarion?”

The shadow sighs in relief.

“Yes! Thank the gods. This would have been really awkward to explain if you had amnesia.”

“I-” you reach up to rub your stinging cheek and groan when pain lances down your arm. You can’t move it.

“Did you slap me?”

You feel yourself fading away again, consciousness slipping out of your grasp.

The shadow that is actually a rather blurry vampire nods solemnly.

“I did. I’m about to do it again.”

“S’not nice.” You mumble.

“Tav, if you can stay awake for a moment longer I can get us out of here. I need you to look into my eyes. Can you do that for me?”

You aren’t entirely sure, your eyelids are so heavy, but you do try. Slowly, you manage to pry them open enough to meet Astarions eyes. Once your gazes collide, you wonder why you ever thought it was hard to keep your eyes open at all. It would pain you to look away now. His eyes are such a hypnotic shade of red. You think it might be your new favorite color.

“That's it Tav.” His voice is low- enticing. It satisfies something deep within you, and you find yourself holding your breath, hanging onto every word. 

“You aren’t going to sleep anymore. You’re going to stand with me and walk through the gate.”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished speaking.

Vaguely, you know what this is. Vampires, and apparently vampiric spawn, have the ability to compel creatures. Some are better at it than others, and some creatures are harder to compel than others, but you make it easy. You don’t even try to resist, knowing this compulsion might just save your life.

That is until you accept Astarion’s lended hand and stand, looking down to see the glassy, lifeless eyes of the human girl you were trying to save before the goblin stabbed you.

Her arm is stretched toward you, a look of despair frozen on her face, as if she reached out to you in her final moment.

You reach for her, praying to anyone that will listen that she’s not actually dead, when Astarion catches you with an arm around your waist.

“There’s nothing more that you can do for her. Walk.”

Your resolve is weaker than it’s ever been, and the compulsion takes you completely. Your legs move on their own accord. Astarion keeps an arm around your waist and pulls your good arm over his shoulder, bearing the brunt of your weight as you make slow progress toward the gate that everyone is fleeing for. You see Gale and one of the tieflings carrying an unconscious Lae’zel on fabric stretched between two long branches. They place her on the ground just inside the entrance and rush to find a healer.

You stumble inside after them. Every heartbeat triggers a fiery explosion of pain that leaves you gasping. Astarion half-drags you to a wooden stump and sets you down on top of it, his compulsion fading along with the rest of your energy. He crouches in front of you and inspects your shoulder, tsking softly.

“Go'head” You say, your words somewhat slurring together.

His expression turns wary as he motions something over your shoulder.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.”

“Say it.” 

He shakes his head in confusion, and you try again, pushing the words out through shallow huffs of air.

“Say ‘I told you so’” 

“Ah” he smiles “As much as I would love to, it’s beneath me to kick a lady while she’s down”

“I’ll show you who’s down.” You attempt to threaten, but when you lean forward a wave of nausea hits you, and you double over, pressing the hand you can move to your mouth as if you can push back the rising bile.

Astarion positions you back upright with a hand on your good shoulder, something resembling concern in his voice as he calls for a healer. It’s becoming very hard to breathe.

You hear someone rush to his side, but you don’t even have enough energy to turn your head to see who it is. 

“Is she ready?” The stranger asks.

“She’ll have to be. She’s losing a lot of blood. I can hear how hard her heart is beating to pump what little she has left.”

He taps your face as you begin to nod off and you open your eyes, unsure of when you closed them.

“This is going to hurt.” Is Astarion’s only warning before he rips the dagger out of your shoulder.

You open your mouth to scream, but someone presses a large bottle full of thick red liquid to your lips and you drink instead, desperate for the relief a health potion will provide. You grimace both at the metallic taste of the potion and at the itchy sensation of your muscles knitting themselves back together. The wound closes and the pain subsides, but your shoulder still tingles savagely with pins and needles.

Some of your energy returns to you, and you glance up at the stranger that gave you the potion. The dwarven druid returns your nod of thanks with one of her own before turning her attention to an unconscious Lae’zel, who you notice was moved to a cot sometime between when you stumbled through the gate and now. You peel your bloodstained shirt off your shoulder and see for the first time the angry red scar that remains despite the magic of the healing tonic. You cringe and pull your shirt back over it. 

When you look over at Astarion, he is staring at the bloody dagger he pulled from your shoulder with an intensity that unnerves you.

“Astarion?” 

He startles as he’s pulled out of his thoughts and drops the dagger on the ground at your feet. He bares his teeth in an expression you think was meant to be a smile, but doesn’t quite make it past a grimace. He stands fluidly, and you scan him from head to toe for injuries. He doesn’t seem to have a scratch on him. 

Relief and annoyance battle it out in your head as you follow suit, standing on shaky legs.

“Thank-”

He turns and glares so angrily you shut your mouth with an audible click.

“I don’t want your thanks. We had a deal, Hero, all I did was hold up my end.”

You remember the deal you made with the vampire.

You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.

Interesting.

“I don’t think I like that nickname” You frown.

“Oh? I can think of a few more you might like better.” He winks, and your eyes widen in genuine fear as you imagine what he could possibly mean by that.

“No no, hero is good- great even.”

Astarion chuckles in sadistic delight and ushers you further inside the grove toward Gale, who you see also looks mostly unharmed other than a gash above his eyebrow. Upon closer inspection however, you see the same bone deep fatigue you feel mirrored in his eyes. Magic takes energy to cast, and the toll exacted on a caster for pushing their limits is merciless.

“Glad to see you’re okay Tav,” He says by way of greeting. He gestures at the older tiefling man he was speaking to when you approached.

“This is Zevlor. He’s offered to allow us to make camp inside the walls of the grove until we recover from the battle.”

The tiefling nods and places a hand over his heart bowing his head at you and Astarion. In your current state, drained of magic as you are, the tadpole seems to have more control than it did before. Your mind is drawn to Astarion’s like metal to a magnet, and when the connection clicks into place, you feel his awkward uncomfortability with Zevlor’s gesture. It seems Astarion is inept at accepting thanks from everyone, not just you. 

“I cannot thank you enough for your assistance out there.” Zevlor begins, “There surely would have been many more casualties if you had not done what you did. Your friend Gale of Waterdeep-”

A pulse of sadistic amusement bridges the gap between yours and Astarion’s mind and you watch his mouth twitch as he suppresses a smile. Gale’s lips press together in thinly veiled annoyance. Zevlor continues on, completely oblivious, “-tells me you’ve been searching for a healer. Our main healer left with the scouting party you saved today and hasn’t returned, but his apprentice Nettie is more than capable of healing most ailments. I’m sure she’d be happy to counsel you in the morning once all the wounded have been tended to. We’ll point your Gith friend your way once she wakes up.”

You nod gratefully and Zevlor is called to help someone else before anything more can be said. The link between your mind and Astarion’s buzzes with energy and he turns to you with a horrified expression as he’s suddenly bombarded by everything you’re feeling. 

“How are you standing up right now?”

“I have no idea. I can’t feel my legs.”

Gale flashes you an alarmed look. He notices your shaking limbs and holds out an arm. You consider his offered help for a moment before shaking your head. You don't want to be a burden to this man you've just met. You'll be fine as long as you can sit down sometime in the very near future. Gale drops his arm but not his concerned expression.

“A healer I am not, but I don’t imagine trembling with every step is a sign of anything good.” He warns

You wave off his concern with a weak smile and continue walking. Astarion and Gale follow, a little too close for your liking, as if they're waiting for your inevitable fall.

Astarion responds to Gale's warning for you.

“If I didn’t pity whoever's waiting for you back home before, Gale of Waterdeep, I do now.”

Gale’s face scrunches in annoyed confusion.

“I don’t have a partner... anymore.”

“I bet I know why.”

"You most definitely do not."

“Would you two shut up for a second?” You hiss.

You're passing a merchant’s table littered with armor, camp supplies, magical artifacts, dyes, and weapons. A crossbow catches your eye, and you remember earlier on the battlefield wishing you had a bow that you knew how to shoot. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had more than a puny knife to fight with. You stop in front of the table. Astarion and Gale nearly crash into the back of you.

“How much?”

You ask the dwarven merchant digging for something in a box behind the table, pointing at the crossbow.

Astarion raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.

The dwarf’s head snaps up and his eyes widen as he takes in your blood-soaked ragged appearance. He sees the pale elf and the human wizard behind you and something clicks.

“I know you. The other druids won’t shut up about you. You saved the grove.” He says with a certain measure of awe.

“Tell ya what. I need to get rid of most of this stuff before the grove gets sealed shut in a few days, and we do kind of owe you our lives. Take whatever you want. On me.”

You feel guilty accepting gifts from this kind stranger, but you are in desperate need of camp supplies. Astarion doesn’t seem to share your hang-up. He begins grabbing things to stuff in his pack. Another dagger, two small hand-held crossbows, Black armor of some sort. Gale peruses the magical scrolls lined up on the other side of the table. You take the crossbow you originally asked about, intending to take it and it alone, when an amulet catches your eye. A simple black metal chain holding a small silver medallion. Ferre procul is engraved neatly along with a rune you vaguely recognize on the pendant. Upon closer inspection you realize it’s emitting a faint silver light. You think it's a magic storing item, one that would grant its wearer the ability to cast misty step. You pocket the amulet, and thank the merchant profusely before you follow Astarion and Gale toward your new camp. You nearly weep with joy at the sight of a fire already made, and the bedrolls laid out around it. You don’t even spare a glance at your companions. You toss your bag to the ground and collapse onto the nearest bedroll. Sleep claims you before your head hits the pillow.

----

Tag tiiiiiime.

This list is getting long 0-0

@aoirohi

@tamwritesstuff

@smaranshakthi

@perseny

@stronglycoffeescented-blog

@hadesbabygurl

@y2cade

@screechingphantommaker

@whoopsitsloobis

@coratatum

@rando-no-5

@usuallyunlikelyfox

@kamartsu

@yaimlight

@h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333

@vulgarfuckinvirgo77

@ellie1725

@skittleabyss

@nari1837

@bitchyzombienacho

@otayz

@yggiboo

@alexandritgreylock

@grimissleepy

@raygunny

@thedevilssinner

@mythoughtsofinsanity

@olitheghost

Okay I think that's it. Lemme know if I missed ya.

[stargazedmona]

Here is a request if you have time please :)

Smut with fem reader that is large chested and self conscious about it but childe or xiao comforts her about it and “shows” appreciation for it 😋

Childe hates it when he notices how insecure you get about your large chest. He’s vocal about it too; he tells you everyday that you’re beautiful and that your chest doesn’t make you any less than that. But when you persist, saying that you don’t believe him and that you just can’t help but feel that way, he takes a different approach.

Childe would knead your supple breasts in his hands, squeezing and caressing the globes before touching and swirling the tip of his thumb over your pretty nipples. He’d whisper praises about how wonderful they feel and how beautiful they look when they’re swelling from his touch.

“Fuck, if only you could see how amazing you look from my perspective,” he says. “Do you see how hard you and your breasts get me? Look at me, sweetheart. Look at how much I want you.”

You squeeze your thighs together at the sight of his cock, long, hard, and swollen. The red bulbous tip of his dick is beading with precum, showing exactly what he said: he wants you—and your breasts don’t make you seem any less beautiful.

To further show his appreciation, Childe fucks between your breasts. It’s wet, sticky, and messy—it’s everything that makes Childe much more turned on. Your breasts drives him crazy. With every thrust, his breath goes ragged from his efforts to try and not cum instantly. He’s sweating, his neck and ears red from the heat of his arousal. You can practically see the cloud of breath he lets out as his pink cheeks swell with every puff. The image is so fucking lewd and it makes you believe him.

It’s even harder not to when he cums all over your chest only to groan a long “fuuuck” with his head thrown back and abs flexing from his intense orgasm. And then right when his breathing slows and he looks back down at your pretty face and cum-stained tits, he’s hard again and ready to show more appreciation.

Xiao doesn’t really say anything when he notices how insecure you get about your chest. However, he subtly hints at it and random times of the day after he notices. He makes a comment about how your chest looks incredible in a dress your wearing. Sometimes, he sneakily brushes your hair away from your chest and say that it looks better that way.

You don’t really pick up on these clues, but you eventually recognize them at the end of the day when Xiao is pressing you tight against his chest while his hand gropes at your tits when you both prepare to sleep. But you don’t say anything. You wait until his hand squeezes softly. Once, twice, before he eventually flips you on your back and rips apart your top.

You’d gasp and cower before his eyes but he’d rip your arms from covering your chest and stare at you—staring at your breasts. Then, he licks his lips and swallows. With a dark look in his eyes, he dips down and captures a nipple into his mouth and licks and nips and tugs at it until it gets hard from the moistness getting hit by the cold air of the night.

“Beautiful,” he pants. He kisses your chest, sucks and bites at the fat until there’s an obvious mark. “So beautiful. I love you. These. I love these too.”

He’s not a man of much words but those words were enough to make you understand.

He spends majority of the night sucking and kissing and biting at your breasts until your clit is throbbing with need. You beg for him to just touch you somewhere else, but Xiao’s adamant about making sure every inch of your breast is worshipped.

And when you finally cry and squirm, he shuts you up with a long, hot kiss to the lips then giving you what you’ve been asking for. However, his appreciation for your large chest doesn’t stop. As he fucks you hard and deep, he continues swirling his tongue around your nipples and making sure that your boobs are too sensitive to have covered up the next day.

[hotluncheddie]

✨hello✨ I’m havin thoughts again and now you bear the brunt of them (I’m so sorry it’s because your writing makes me feral 😈)-

Just thinkin about how Steve would be the service top to end all service tops- like that man would be *so* invested in his partners pleasure yk, like that man gets off on getting his partner off

So enter Eddie- and maybe Eddie’s never had a relationship like this before, where they’re properly dating and all that. And then maybe for whatever reason, Eddie gains weight, gets chubby, a belly, thicker thighs n all that sexy shit,

And Steve is just like 👹🥵😍🥰😘 because now there’s more?? For him to discover??? About Eddie??? And he just gets so invested in seeing how different parts of Eddie get more sensitive, how different positions work better for them, and basically just Steve having the absolute time of his LIFE because all he wants is for Eddie to feel good and it’s like every wet dream he’s ever had:

someone allowing him in and discovering everything they like *with him* and he likes Eddie soooo much and he’s just so happy that the person who’s letting him in is Eddie!! And he gets to do this with Eddie!! And Eddie likes Steve so much too, and he just feels so comfy with Steve because Steve always makes him feel so good about himself✨

Anyways this started as something smutty and then I had to insert schmoopy ass shit into it at the very end because I’m literally incapable of having any other thoughts??? So now I’m leaving this here I’m so sorry

AAAAAAAAAAAAA  *goes outside* *rips all my clothes off* *fucking howls at the moon* 

dude!! don’t apologise!!! thank you thank you for sharing such big brain JUICY thoughts with meeeee!!!! 

i’m just obsessed with like service top steve, service mouth steve, service dom steve like feeds into his praise kink SO well. just wants eddie to feel GOOD. steve just loves hearing it and seeing it and making it happen, just makes him so HARD, fucking LEAKING over the noises and faces he gets eddie to make. 

and like i just have this image of newly chubby eddie wearing his leather jacket, maybe going to steves work to talk to him. but his new belly is peeking out the front, pushing the flaps of the jacket apart and steve just sees it and in his head he’s going crazy. because this eddie is so hot and still so confident and so happy because everything's over and he can relax and god his jeans look so good now with all the meat eddie has on his thighs and steve is just a blushy stammering mess.

like steve who’s just obsessed with being able to bury himself between eddie’s newly thick thighs, them squeezing his head and he’s just able to open his mouth and taste and feel. and maybe his hearing has gone a bit but its okay because eddie is SO loud all the time so steve can always hear what feels good. and eddie never stops taking never stops telling him how good he is, how amazing and perfect it feels. 

maybe they’ve not been dating that long and steve’s just still fixated on the fact that he fucking loves sucking dick. but maybe eddie gets kinda insecure. ‘i barely ever even to touch you stevie’ and steve goes so red because he didn’t really realise it was so noticeable but, like, he just doesn't need eddie to do anything back, because he always gets off on eddie’s moans the feeling of eddie around him and it just the perfect environment for him to rut against the mattress and finish. mind and body foggy and gooey and delicious. he’s ruined so many pyjama pants that way. 

and when he tells eddie all that, eddie just gets gooey and calls him cute and kisses him silly. but then eddie makes a point of spending some nights on just steve, making him moan, whispering the praise right in his ear so he really gets it, knows how good eddie feels with him, how much he thinks about steve when he's alone with just his hand (oh and steve would just LOVE that, getting eddie off even when they’re apart). eddie making them switch positions so eddie can see the look on steve face when he finally tips over the edge. 

or maybe eddie’s had like a little experience with a couple random guys just from like parties here and there. but it always felt like he was performing, like he had to put on a roll, like he couldn’t really enjoy himself. he always had to pay to much attention to if the other guy still liked him, was still into it. so he had fun, got off but it was never a space where he could really let go. but with steve, with steve its like his fucking soul is being bared.  

because steve is just so obsessed with eddie loosing himself and just enjoying it. like steve has to spell it out a bit but eventually eddie gets that steve gets most turned on by eddie being truly in it. just thinking and moving in whatever way feels good. and eddie leans into it. same way he leans into his weight gain. he likes how it feels, how his body has changed, likes eating and doesn’t wanna stop. and steve is SO SO into that, eddie being happy and comfortable and it’s just makes everything hotter. so eddie gets naked way more, wants to try different positions, see what feels best. finds out that he has all these new sensitive parts, all these bits that just light up where steve squeezes them with his big, massive hands. likes slipping into sub space sometimes because he just knows steve will always take care of him. it just feels good, makes them both feel so good. 

like they are the ultimate switch couple, you KNOW they’re trying out every dynamic under the sun, just for the fun of it. pushing matching kinks and playing around to find more kinks and it would just be so fun and gooey and full of love. like so many nights these set ups and bits of foreplay just turn into one sinking into the other, holding each others hands and looking into each others eyes and just making love. 

and i feel like i mention this all the time but i’m obsessed with chubby stoner eddie who just likes snacking on the couch with the tv on and steve under his arm. and i think steve would get a little hot just watching eddie be comfy and indulging and the way him getting full makes his t-shirts fit and i just know that steve would sink to his knees and suck eddie off while eddie just keeps doing what he’d doing.

full horny stoner bf meets sometimes stoned oral fixation bf who loves giving head and loves feeling a belly press against his forehead while he’s doing it. match made it fucking heaven. 

and like chubby whiny eddie who just wants to get looked after because he’s worked a letting these walls he’s built down. knows now that he has someone he can be loved by and he needs to accept it and keep it. because its special, steve is special. and steve who just so so wants to do that for him. has all this love in him that he’s never had reciprocated until now, and he just want to give and look after and be good. so when eddie is full and sleepy and squirming on the couch, just begging steve to fuck him. steve so happily obliges because when eddie wants to get fucked steve is at his fucking service. and its always so good and so hot and so full of love. 

(this was so many tangent parts aaaaa sorry!! and sorry the reply took to long i kept just getting little lines in here and there until i felt like i kinda answered it???)