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#i've been trying to make this post for a week rip
emhm · 1 day
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Coffee? Please?
Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.
[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]
I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.
-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.
-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]
-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.
-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.
-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.
-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]
Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.
I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.
But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.
But anything helps.
I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.
I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr
My Paypal is attached to this old email address - [email protected]
I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory
I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf
And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-
"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."
I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.
-Doc
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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 months
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and baby makes three
(the reboot)
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 11.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.
a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)
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The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…
It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.
And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.
You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.
Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.
Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.
It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.
The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?
...Yearning?
No. Definitely not. Nope.
There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.
Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.
It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.
Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.
You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?
It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.
And god, do you even want a baby?
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.
Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.
It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.
You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.
This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.
***
You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.
It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.
You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.
“You could knock,” you grouse.
“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.
You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”
He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”
You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.
“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.
Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.
Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.
He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”
You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”
“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.
“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.
“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.
He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.
You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.
Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.
Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”
“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.
Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.
“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”
He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.
Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.
Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.
There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.
“So… You’re serious.”
You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”
He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”
“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.
You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”
You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.
After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”
“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.
He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.
“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.
“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”
“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.
“Absolutely not.”
“Let me see!”
“It’s private!”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.
You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.
“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”
Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.
“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“What?” he asks innocently.
When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.
“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.
“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”
You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.
“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”
He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.
“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.
You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”
“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”
You frown, not following.
“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.
“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“
“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”
Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.
You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.
For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.
“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”
He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”
He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.
And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.
Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.
“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.
It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.
***
With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.
Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.
You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.
And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.
Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.
“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.
“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”
He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”
Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.
“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.
“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”
He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”
“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”
“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.
“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”
You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.
***
The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.
Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.
A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.
His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”
“Hi,” you return.
He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”
You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”
Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”
“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”
“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.
“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”
Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”
Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.
“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”
Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.
He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.
This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.
Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.
“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.
A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.
“You okay?” you hear through the door.
“Will you come here, please?” you ask.
He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”
“I did it,” you whisper.
He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.
“Congratulations,” he says softly.
“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.
“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”
He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.
“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”
It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.
Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.
“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.
“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.
***
Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.
But nothing happens.
All of your tests come back negative.
When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.
Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!
***
The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.
But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.
You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”
Bucky frowns. “Why not?”
“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?
“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”
You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”
“Why not?”
You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”
When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”
You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”
His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.
“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”
“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”
His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”
You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”
“But you haven’t been doing… that.”
“I didn’t think I’d need to.”
Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.
“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”
“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”
“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.
He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.
Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.
Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.
“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.
This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.
Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.
The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.
You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.
Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.
Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.
He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.
When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.
Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.
Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.
That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.
***
You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.
Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.
And wait.
You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.
It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.
The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.
Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
“What do I do, Bucky?”
At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.
When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.
“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”
“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.
Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”
“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.
“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”
Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.
“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”
“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”
“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”
“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.
His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.
“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”
You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.
Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.
“Okay,” you allow, softly.
Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.
You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)
***
Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.
It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.
You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.
“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.
He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hi.”
You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.
“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”
“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.
“It’s not gonna be weird.”
“Nope.”
His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.
“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.
Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.
“May I?” he asks.
Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.
Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.
The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.
He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.
It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!
When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.
“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.
He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…
He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.
Oh.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.
He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.
His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.
He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.
“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.
Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.
Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.
Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.
“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.
“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.
He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—
“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.
He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”
“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”
The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.
He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.
You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.
His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.
“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.
The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.
Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.
He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.
Stop it, you scold yourself.
He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.
“O-Oh,” you whimper.
The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.
“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.
He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.
“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”
You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.
Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.
It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.
“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.
“That was…”
“Mhm,” you mumble.
Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”
You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.
You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.
“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”
He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”
His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.
“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.
Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.
“Right.”
Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.
You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.
Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.
“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”
He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”
You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.
As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.
***
It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.
Honest.
You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.
Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.
That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.
More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.
You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.
I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.
***
Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.
His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.
“Hey,” you say after a pause.
He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”
You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”
It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.
“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.
You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”
“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.
“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”
He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.
“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.
Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.
***
Another week passes.
Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.
When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.
Positive.
Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.
“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.
You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.
The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.
Every single one of them… Positive.
A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.
He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.
“Did we…?”
Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.
“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”
“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.
He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.
“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.
“What?” you question distractedly.
“I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.
“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”
You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…
But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.
“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”
He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”
Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.
He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.
When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.
“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.
His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.
“Bucky, please,” you beg.
“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”
You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”
“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”
“Oh god,” you mumble.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.
His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.
“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”
He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.
“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”
You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.
He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.
He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.
You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.
He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.
“So good, did so well,” he mutters.
Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.
“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”
Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.
“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”
He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”
He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.
“Hi.”
You crack a smile. “Hi.”
“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.
“Interesting,” he muses.
Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.
“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.
You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.
“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”
He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.
“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.
You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”
Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.
“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.
“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.
His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.
You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.
“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.
Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”
“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”
His smile goes soft at the edges.
It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.
For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.
***
Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.
“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”
“What about—”
“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.
You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.
Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).
You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.
It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.
Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.
He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.
“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”
Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.
“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”
Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.
He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”
The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.
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blkkizzat · 8 months
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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals
Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.
A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.
Enjoy!
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“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”
Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.
Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!
Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.
Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 
A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 
Choso breathed in deeply. 
A wave of calm washed over him. 
Peace. 
Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 
It was beautiful. 
Blood was beautiful.
The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.
Like a painting. 
A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 
This was his art.
Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 
He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.
Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 
Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 
It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 
From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 
He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  
Choso was meticulous in his process. 
Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 
His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 
Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 
Almost midnight. 
Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.
He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 
In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 
The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.
No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 
You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 
“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”
“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 
Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.
With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.
“Ladies–” 
However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 
Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.
“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    
Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 
They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.
“Choso!”
You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.
“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 
Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.
Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 
If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.
“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.
Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 
You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.
You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 
This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.
“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.
“Duh Choso–” 
You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.
“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”
Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 
Of course he knew about the party. 
The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 
However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 
He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.
“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”
“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 
“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”
Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.
“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.
But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 
“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”
You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).
Choso swallowed. 
On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 
The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 
Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.
“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.
He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.
“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 
The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 
With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 
He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.
He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.
“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 
You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.
You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 
“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 
Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.
“But I’m not alone silly!” 
You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 
They looked absolutely miserable. 
“I have my pledges!” 
Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 
“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.
Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.
“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.
“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”
You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.
As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.
“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.
It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 
You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 
You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 
Shit. 
Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.
You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.
Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 
His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.
Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 
Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.
He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.
Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.
“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”
“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 
Really don’t. 
Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.
He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.
“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 
He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.
You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 
Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.
“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”
Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 
Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 
‘Thank God!’’ 
‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’
‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’
‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’
‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 
‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 
–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 
You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 
Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 
He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 
He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 
You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 
Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 
You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 
Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 
He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 
Also you did have a boyfriend. 
An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.
Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 
He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.
Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.
Twice. 
The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 
Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.
It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.
He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 
You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?
You would make a beautiful death painting too.
Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 
The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 
Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?
Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.
Fuck. 
He was hard again. 
He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.
God, he was pathetic.
The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 
You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.
He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 
You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.
Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 
You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 
You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 
Surely you had the wrong classroom.
“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.
“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.
He looked at it and back at you twice.
“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”
Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 
Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 
You didn’t look like you would last.
Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.
You proved him wrong though. 
You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 
You were also a hard worker. 
It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 
You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 
The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.
Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 
Choso put a hand over his face. 
He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.
Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.
It was making Choso a bit reckless. 
Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 
He had to move more carefully. 
Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.
“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 
You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 
Speak of the devil.
You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.
This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.
“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.
“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”
How could he forget?  
However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 
See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 
But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.
“Oh and sorry!” 
You interrupted his thoughts once again.
“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”
Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 
At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.
He would never know any peace.
“Keep it as long as you need.”
“Kay!”
You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 
“Oh Crap!” 
You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.
“Y/N, Watch out!” 
Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.
“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 
You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.
Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 
He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  
“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.
You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.
“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.
“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 
“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 
“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 
Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 
Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 
And so he does.
Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.
You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 
Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  
You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 
You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.
Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 
Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 
You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 
Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.
“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.
Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 
Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 
“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 
No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.
“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 
You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 
You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 
“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 
Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.
“I- that is.. I meant-”
Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 
“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.
“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.
“Hey!” 
Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.
You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 
You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.
Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 
You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 
“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.
Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 
You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  
Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.
If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–
“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 
“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.
“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.
Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 
Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?
“Uh hey, Dean I..” 
You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 
His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.
“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”
Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 
Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 
Tch. 
With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 
This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.
Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.
Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 
You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 
You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.
The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.
“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 
“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 
Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 
You could not let this turn into an incident.
“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”
A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 
Just her T.A.
Right.
Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.
He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 
Not anymore.
“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 
Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.
You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 
You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.
“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”
Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 
Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 
Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 
“W-wait Cho–”  
You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.
“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 
Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 
Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 
However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.
The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
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A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13
comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories
Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!
PART 2
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Text
Straight from the heart (Lando Norris)
It takes a bad race for Lando to notice how much he has neglected your relationship, and he can only hope he can fix it
Note: english is not my first language. I was fighting the other piece I was writing so I jumped to this one and I did something a little bit different (* cough cough * longer) and see how it goes! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me), but I promise this has a happy ending!! 🥹🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: relationship struggles, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Lando had a wonderful race, but a mixture of bad strategy calls, dark rain clouds appearing on the sky with only a couple of laps left to finish the race and the wrong tire compound made him lose a good number of places, cars overtaking him in the last seven laps.
"Is the race over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.
"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, darling", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got out of balance.
"Are you going to call Lando?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the position he had finished in. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when he was over.
"I'm not, I don't think - he's flying back tonight and the timezone is so different, I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews, and I'm sure the debrief will be long and torturous - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appel, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".
The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.
The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.
A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked. Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak.
"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.
"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Lando is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so profound, but it seems he only cares about racing and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know the triple headers are intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Max where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".
Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and have you talked about this? A long, grown-up and serious conversation?", she mused.
"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat.
"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think me and your father was all smooth sailing?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".
You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.
You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Lando would work through a look back on with a sense of accomplishment.
This wasn't how you and Lando end, is it?
.
Max and Lando headed for the plane as soon as they left the race track, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Max was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting his girlfriend to let her know they were leaving.
"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Lando mumbled, "didn't she watch the race? Doesn't she know that I need her?".
Max weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his best friend to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.
"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Max rambled off.
Lando was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Max, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.
"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Lando, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Max declared as Lando only grew more confused.
"What am I missing Max?", Lando snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.
"Mate, think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Max offered.
Lando wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.
The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.
"Fuck!", Lando shouted, punching the arm rest.
"Glad you figured that one out almost all on your own", Max tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N? Thought so", Max muttered. He didn't like the situation his friends found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Lando, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.
"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Lando mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".
He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.
"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than solving the world's problems -, but P and her talk here and there", Max reasoned, "she obviously won't tell me all the details but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, P is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Max offered. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Lando, the last couple of time Max's girlfriend couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the McLaren driver.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Lando groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".
"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Max asked and Lando nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about racing, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", Max offered.
McLaren had a one hundred and eighty degree turn lately. From struggling to get their cars in the points, the team had managed to turn things around to the point where P5 and P8 was considered a bad weekend for them.
With the new signings, Quadrant had grown exponentially and it had naturally drawn him to spend more time on it, and it seemed to have alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.
It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Lando loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.
They both sat in silence as the British drive thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the podium was a common feature for him, and the race win was there, up for grabs and he wanted it. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.have always been important to me.
"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Lando asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".
"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Max tries to comfort Lando.
"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Lando voicesd his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?
"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Max states.
"I hope you're right", Lando sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.
"I wouldn't do that", Max chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.
With his head on the headrest, Lando went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.
What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?
.
Lan 🧡
Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?
It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.
To Lan 🧡
Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?
Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.
We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.
Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.
Do you want me to pick you up?
No, I'll walk.
Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.
Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.
Lando chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.
When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.
"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.
The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.
"Hello, hi", Lando cleared his throat, "how have you been?".
Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.
"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.
"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.
The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.
"We really need to talk, Y/N", Lando says.
"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.
The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it - Bon appétit!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.
"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Lando was cut off by you.
"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".
If the ground could sink him into it, Lando would've accepted it gladly.
"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself like that, Lando. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.
Lando gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Lando added all in one go.
"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.
"When I lost all of those places in the race", Lando gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Max was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".
It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.
"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Lando. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your cornerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best driver out there and that a bad race doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".
"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Lando asks desperately.
"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the last season - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always a Quadrant video to film or a meeting or some event. You, Max and Martin went to Bali, and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when P showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Lando. I never felt so humiliated. Max had his girlfriend and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.
"I'm sorry", Lando murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.
"I don't need you to apologize now, Lando. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet glued to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or the McLaren social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took Max to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.
Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.
"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself.. Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Lando's swollen and tear-filled eyes.
The tears Lando has been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.
"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be our year - my year - and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Lando confessed.
"I needed you, Lando", she bit back.
Lando couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Lando was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.
"Can we walk along the marina?", Lando asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.
You both get up, Lando paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.
Lando wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.
"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Lando voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.
"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for croissants, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where that lady asked if Mila was our daughter when your brother visited. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.
"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Lando pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Lando mumbled.
As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.
"You're making it so hard", your groaned rubbing your temples, "It would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".
"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Lando assured you.
"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Lando got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.
"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Lando nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow, "I know you just asked me for some time, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".
"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.
"Is it still the case?", Lando picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".
"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.
.
Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Lando was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Lando still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.
So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Lando sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who it was from.
You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Lando. The sunny day invited you to go out and Lando seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.
"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".
"Lando invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.
"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Lando", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the racing ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her daughter would fight for them and for her. For you.
"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.
You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Lando's offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Lando under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.
"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.
"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.
"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your small backpack on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Lando's apartment.
"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "Jon did give me the recipe, but I made them! He says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".
"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.
"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocolate", Lando shrugged.
You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, Lan - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.
Lando's heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.
He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very posh and very proper and she was trying to cut in line! Then she started saying something in French and I was like 'no can do, madam! I need to get these croissants for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.
"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.
"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but for someone who eats pre-prepared meals, this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.
For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good, Lan! You should make granola bars more often - might even make a side business out of it!", you smiled.
"Charles has some ice-cream, there's alcohol from the other guys too - me? Granola bars", he smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted. Never ever.
The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park or the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Lando had definitely put some effort into this.
"Thank you for this, Lando", you smiled after you helped him clean up the supplies, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.
"It's alright, really", Lando mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.
The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.
"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.
"The day after tomorrow, we're going karting - Max and P are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.
"I'd love to go, Lando", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour", you pointed out.
"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.
"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, Lan, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".
"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.
As Lando walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.
Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.
.
"Why are we going this way?", Max asked as Lando took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the track that way?".
Lando couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".
Max and Pietra exchanged a look before rhe blonde woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".
"P!", Max scolded.
"It's alright, Max - she's not wrong", Lando added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Lando turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, P. I know you have been a good friend to her, so thank you for that", he added.
"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.
"Excuse me?!", Max dramatised, "what did you just say?".
"Did I lie, Max? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Lando realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.
Lando chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.
There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black jeans, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.
"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Pietra's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.
"Why don't I get a kiss?", Max pouted.
"Because you stink, that's why", Lando chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.
Blushing, you nodded before looking at Pietra again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the track, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before they raced eachother since you and P would happily drive around in the karts just to pass the time.
For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready.
"How have you been, Y/N?", Pietra asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.
"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Lando is home", you offered.
"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.
"He's... Goodness, he's Lando again, my Lando", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.
"Y/N", Pietra cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Max did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Lando was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.
Once the boys were done, Max waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to get your equipment ready.
"Come here, I need to make sure you don't fly out of your kart this time", Max called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped to go on the single seater.
You finished the makeshift hairstyle before you looked for the helmet, finding it in Lando's hands, "come here, big head, I'll help you put it on", he smiled.
As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, hands setting the helmet on top of your head and then pulling in on, "Look who's talking", you mumbled quickly before it was all the way in, his fingers gingerly touching your neck as he did the strap buckle.
"All good for our speed daredevils?", Max joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.
"Does it feel safe, Y/N?", Lando checked with you, making you wiggle a little to make sure you were strapped tightly enough, making you flash his two thumbs up.
"Ready, set, go!", Max yelled before you and Pietra went off, happily driving on the track despite not extracting the full potential out of the kart.
"You and Y/N seem well", Max offered as him and Lando took a break before they joined you back at the track.
"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Lando explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".
"I'm proud of you, man", Max tapped his back.
"You're what?", Lando asked, a little flustered at his bestfriends words.
"I'm proud of you, Lando - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what P said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.
"Thanks, mate", Lando replied earnestly.
After a couple of laps from you, you saw the boys joining you in the track, making you assure that whenever they lapped you, you made a Mario Kart like noise, always managing to get a smile and a headshake from Lando and Max.
Once you were done, Max and Pietra volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.
"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Lando asked as he approached you.
Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.
"I'm glad", Lando uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I could fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".
"Lan...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.
"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that it is coming straight from my heart - everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.
You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling, "two Bryan Adams references in the same sentence from the guy who used to DJ? You impress me, Lando Norris", you giggled and teased him playfully, feeling the rubble from his own laugh on his chest.
"I'll make sure to impress you everyday that we're alive, Y/N Y/L/N", he promised.
And he intended to keep it.
.
Lando invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.
The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.
The whole apartment was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.
Your acceptance to come to his place made Lando feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else, and he was sure he would always be in love with you until his last breath.
A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.
Lando assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Quadrant hoodie.
"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.
"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.
Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Lan", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.
"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.
"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.
"Is this going to be like the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Just try it, Lan!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Lando's mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.
Lando chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "is it good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.
Once you finished eating, you helped Lando bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.
"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Lando nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.
"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.
"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.
You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.
Once the movie was playing, Lando's arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.
"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.
"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually! He's also Mila's favourite character, at least he was last week", Lando chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.
"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.
"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Lando reflected out loud.
"Lando, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.
"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.
"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.
"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it or that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".
"Lando, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Lando".
"You're right", Lando agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.
Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.
You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.
Lando was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him.
"I love you, Lando", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.
"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Lando stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.
"Hey, hey! Lando, baby", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".
"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Lando added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.
"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.
Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".
"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.
"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.
"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".
"My love, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.
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grandlinedreams · 3 months
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|| notes: soft screaming I accidentally posted this one before it was done. Was going to just make this two parts but hey i like pain and pining. Sequel to this
|| warnings: angst, mention of nightmares, I like putting reader Through It, pining
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"You're avoiding me."
Azriel watches the way you still, the tension in your shoulders before you turn towards him. You'd been busy with target practice, the soft rhythmic sink of sharp edged blades into the dummy keeping your mind blissfully blank. Until Azriel had approached.
"I'm not avoiding you," you tell him, plucking a rag from your belt and making to polish the dagger in your hand. "I've been busy."
Azriel's eyes narrow. "Rhysand doesn't send you out as often as you've been gone."
You shrug, wiping at already spotless metal. "I'm proactive," you answer as you move to walk away, halted by the black wrap of shadow around your wrist. "What do you want, Azriel?"
"Talk to me," he presses, and your chest aches at the look on his face, the uncertainty that glimmers in his eyes. "Did I do something?"
It would be easy to end things here and now. To confess how you feel, to rip the bandaid off and allow yourself that rejection. But the idea of losing him entirely hurts more, and you swallow hard.
"No, Az. You didn't do anything."
Azriel stares, expression unreadable. And when you try to tug your wrist free of his shadows, Azriel lets you go.
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You don't know why you're here.
That's a lie — you do know, because it's the only reason you would ever be standing in front of Azriel's door at this hour. You shift from one foot to the other, sighing softly before looking up as the door opens.
Having been prepared to knock, it takes you a minute to register that he's in front of you, though you don't know why you're surprised. His shadows must have alerted him that you were out here.
"Nightmare?" His voice is low and far from unkind, hazel eyes probing. When you nod, he steps back.
Though your nightmares are nowhere near as frequent as they'd been when you first came to Velaris, they're still often enough that the two of you have found a routine since the first time they'd sent you scrambling for the shadowsinger's room.
Azriel's bed is far wider than your own to accommodate his wings, extended space of soft sheets and blankets that envelop you in his scent. He smells of pine and something murkier but all together familiar, soothing the frayed edge of your nerves.
He joins you once you've settled, tendrils of incorporeal black slinking over your wrists, your cheeks, your hair. Assessing you silently, then reporting their findings back to Azriel.
You wonder what they tell him. That your nightmare had been about him? About losing him, of having to shift your entire existence to his absence? It feels impossible, as intertwined as your life has become with his.
Fingers skim your skin as Azriel reaches for you, and you let him. You close the gap between you, fling one leg over his, feel his hand settle at the back of your head. It's as if nothing has changed between the two of you. "Want to talk about it?"
You study the barely visible curl of ink against his neck, let your eyes drift up to the curl of black hair that frames his face, then back down to his lips. "Not really."
You don't have to look at him to know he's watching you, can feel the weight of his gaze on your face. Probing, just as his shadows did. You wonder what answers he finds there, if he finds any at all.
"What's going on with you?" He asks instead. As if you're a misbehaving child rather than fae. And you know he means well, Mother above, you know — and it still rubs you the wrong way.
"Why do you insist on being like this?" He'd asked in your bathroom, now two weeks ago. Two weeks of skirting around him, trying to distance yourself from that ache, the words on the tip of your tongue.
"Talk to me," Azriel insists. Fingers, gentle despite their scars, graze your cheek. Your heart (wretched, selfish thing) lurches in your chest, off kilter tempo that you've gotten so used to when Azriel is involved.
This was a mistake. To think you could seek his comfort the way you always have, pretend that you aren't as helplessly in love with him as you are — that you haven't watched him look at everyone but you.
That he'll always look at anyone but you.
"I love you." The words slip clean from your mouth, a soft whisper — the way Azriel stiffens says he still heard you. You keep going, digging invisible claws in the festering wound of your chest, ripping it into something fresh and bleeding. "I've been in love with you for the last two hundred and fifty years, Azriel."
It's cathartic in a way, though it's tempered by the way Azriel is simply staring at you. You pull away from him, sliding off the bed before he speaks. "[Name]—"
"It's okay, Az." He doesn't have to say it, because you already know. You move towards the door, pausing just enough to look at him and offer him a soft smile, at odds with the mangled pulp you've made of your heart. "Good night, Azriel."
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brighteuphony · 3 months
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I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹
Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke
I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go
And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku
But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START
And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️
Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual
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Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?
As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....
Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.
Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.
So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.
I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.
But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.
Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.
And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.
I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!
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Text
Here's a reminder that ADHD is a disability. Sure, I poke fun at myself and I make the jokes about the "shinies" and whatnot, but it's still a disability. It still sucks. It still makes me want to rip my hair out. It still affect EVERY aspect of my life.
Over the past two weeks I've been struggling a lot. I have been having a really hard time getting out of bed to go to school or work. I sit here and I feel so dead, so empty.
I'm frustrated with my mind and how I perceive things, I'm frustrated with the fact that I can't focus, I'm frustrated with the fact that I physically cannot force myself to do something. I don't get to have habits. I don't get to not feel drained after leaving my house for an hour. I don't get to feel rewarded for a good grade, or for just doing something.
Trying to explain some of this stuff is a nightmare and sometimes I want to give up. Then I remember that there's kids actively going through this and beating themselves up for it, not knowing that there is something different about their brain. I keep posting things like this so that I can help people. So that someone might just kind of understand.
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swordsmans · 7 months
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oh shit! i made a book.
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remember back in september when i said i was going to learn bookbinding. well! weeks of trial and error later, i've finally finished my very first bind! as some of you might have seen in past posts, i decided to focus on my 90k zolu mermaid/mafia au the sea makes bones of bodies and now here we are!
the bind itself is a relatively simple 320 page cased-in flatback with a fabric spine and lotka paper covers and endsheets, but i decided to use it as a "test book" to learn a little bit of everything. so! it features hand-traced gold foil on the cover and spine, a hand-beaded bookmark tipped with a genuine shark tooth (iykyk), and what im calling "cookies and cream" speckled edges (lol)
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ive posted some screenshots of the typeset already so i wont go too crazy, but im actually pretty happy with how it looked all put together!! i sewed my signatures together too tightly, i think, so it kind of wants to flop closed (rip) but i tried to take some pictures of how it turned out!
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i have a ton of pictures of the text body itself (and fun things like the playlist page, the title pages, etc) but this post is already long enough, haha.
the absolute best, best, best part of this whole project was a huge, wonderful, amazing surprise from @fluffyartbl0g that brought the whole project together!!! they were sweet enough to send some incredible art (!!!!) that i sewed into the front and back!!!
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!!! AAA!!!!
overall, i learned so much and i took a ton of notes so i'll (hopefully) avoid some of my beginner mistakes when i do this again. i already have three more versions of the text block printed out and pressing right now! >:3c im going to keep practicing with this story for at least three more binds (because i want to get my technique down and i have some new ideas i want to try), and then switch to typsetting ocean theology and attempt a thinner 40k bind.
shoutout to renegade publishing for their wealth of technical help, and a big huge thank you to the dumbass zone for watching blurry videos of me flipping through printer paper at 3AM and just generally being so, so supportive while i learned all these new skills. you guys are the best!!
now... on to the next one!
EDIT: i've been asked for the typeset, so if you are interested in binding this yourself, you can find all the files here!! :D if you do make your own copy, i would love to see!!! PLEASE TAG MEEE!!!! :DDD
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salford-blues · 3 months
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The origins
A/n: It's been a couple weeks since I last wrote anything. I've been really busy and I'm burnt out :( Also this is my first proper written fic. I've mainly posted SMAU's, so if it's not good... I'm sorry. Would love to hear your critiques etc! Pairing: f1 x driver!reader Summary: The origins of our driver!reader - snippets of her growing up Warnings: butchered german??? Italics are the thoughts!
2008 - 5 years old
GROSSER PREIS SANTANDER VON DEUTSCHLAND 2008
The stands were crowded with energetic fans waiting for their favourite drivers to come out. Roars of laughter between friends and families. Piercing screams of devoted fans. In the middle of it all, a 5-year-old girl wrapped in the arms of her father with her hands over her ears trying to block out the deafening noise.
''It's too loud Papi. When's it home time?'' the girl pouted.
''Not just yet Spatzi (little sparrow). The drivers should be out any minute now.'' her father sighed. The child frowned and buried her head into his shoulder and neck.
Instantaneously, the crowd began to yell. Names were shrieked left, right, and centre. People pushing and shoving trying to get a picture or an autograph with their favourite driver. Luckily, the child and her father had managed to make it to the front without too much effort. They now had a perfect view of the track.
One by one the cars came out of the paddocks and lined up at the starting line.
''Who do you like Papi?'' the girl questioned, intrigued by the cars and their colours.
''I like Williams, do you see the navy blue and white car over there?'' her father pointed towards the middle of the grid.
''Uhhuh,'' she nodded, eyes lighting up at the car.
''That's the one that I really like. Which one do you like Schatz (treasure)?'' he questioned the child.
''Hmmm, I liikkeee... I think I like Williams too! Just like you Papi. I think I like the red car too.'' the girl's eyes shone as she spoke. Excitement now lacing her voice. There was a look of adoration on her father's face. Oh, how he loved his little bundle of joy.
''You can like whoever you want. The red car is a Ferrari.'' her father exclaimed.
''F-Fir-aa-r-ee? Ferrari! Yeah, I like that one too, but that one goes second!'' she said adamantly.
Suddenly, the cars were off, speeding down the track.
There was a glisten in the youngster's eyes. The screaming of the crowd was long forgotten. All she could hear was the vrooming of the cars. Wow, they're really fast. I want to do that.
''I want to be a race car driver when I'm older Papi! I'm gonna go really fast like vrrrrooomm." she held out her hands and acted as if she was driving a car.
2009 - 6 years old
''Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Spatzi! (Happy Birthday, little sparrow!)''
The young girl stirred in her bed.
''Wakey wakey sleepy head... you don't want to miss out on opening presents do you.''
At that comment, the girl shot up in bed. Her wide eyes glanced up at her father, excitement running through her body.
''Please can I have waffles for breakfast? Can we go see Oma? Can we see Mami? Oooh can we make those doughnuts with the sugar on top for dessert? Plleeaassee?'' she gave her father her best puppy dog eyes.
''Okay, okay. How about we open your presents first and then see where the day takes us? How does that sound?'' her father queried.
A swift nod of the head gave her father all the conformation he needed and with that, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her down into the living room. The room was decorated with brightly coloured banners, balloons stuck to the wall via sellotape and streamers hung from the ceiling. On the living room table, 6 presents stood tall and were screaming to be opened by a certain birthday girl.
Once set down on the ground, the birthday girl ran over to the presents. She picked the first one up, inspecting its size before placing it down and ripping open the wrapping paper. Inside a box of Lego with an image of a Ferrari. The girl giggled with excitement moving on to her next present.
The small child was down to her last two presents. Both were small and sat on the corner of the table. Small hands picked up the thin present that sat on top, tearing open the wrapping paper. A signed driver's card sat inside. Shock spread across the young girl's face. A signed piece by Kimi Raikkonen. This just might be the best present ever!
''Oh wooooow! Danke Papi! This is the best present ever.'' She ran over wrapping her small arms around the man's neck.
''You're very welcome. But how about opening up your last one.'' he smiled at her.
She curiously looked back and took the present into her arms. The present was squishy under her touch. Possibly clothes? Carefully, the wrappers ripped open. A blue and white race suit sat inside.
''Do you like it, Schatz?''
''I love it! I love it! I love it!'' the girl twirled around with the race suit in hand.
2015 - 11 years old
''Hallo Logan!'' The girl ran up to the young lad. ''Do you want to get ice cream after the race? I'll ask Oscar if he wants to come too."
The blonde boy nodded his head and smiled. ''Yeah, I'd like that.''
''Okay, bye Logan.'' The girl waved before heading in the direction of her Aussie friend.
''Hallo Oscar! Do you want to come and get ice cream after the race with me and Logan?''
''Sure. Let me ask my parents.'' He ran off towards his parents.
Alone she stood listening to her surroundings. Loud chatter coming from children and parents. Birds chirping in the trees.
Hearing the latter she skipped towards the trees before noticing a small bird hopping around. Approaching the bird slowly, she scooped the animal into her hands and held it against her chest.
''I will help you little birdie! Papi, Papi look what I found. Can we help it get better?''
''Sure, we'll take it home with us.'' he smiled.
Strolling over were Oscar and Logan.
''What'cha got there N/n?'' Logan asked curiously.
''It's a bird... We're gonna take it home and look after it.'' She exclaimed.
''We are still up for ice cream though aren't we Birdie?'' Oscar peered a the girl.
''Of course we are Osc... birdie?? Why that??''
''Oh y'know... you've got a bird in your hand, so your new nickname is birdie,'' he uttered as if it was obvious.
''Ahh okie.'' A blush spread across her cheeks in embarrassment.
A whilst blew signalling that the race was about to begin.
''Papi, will you take care of it whilst I race?'' She turned back.
''Of course I will Spatzi. Now run along. The quicker you go the quicker you can get ice cream.''
yourusername
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landonorris, georgerussell63, liamlawson30 & others liked
Ice cream dates just like old times. @oscarpiastri @logansargeant
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oscarpiastri Birdie delete this. This makes it out like we're all dating
> yourusername WAIT... WE ARENT????
>> logansargeant now look what you've done, you've made her cry...
>>> oscarpiastri We're not dating though???
user.1 why is Logan acting like a third wheel??
user.2 are they dating though? or is it two of them and then the third just tags along?
> user.3 I think they're just really weird friends
>> user.2 yhhh checks out
liamlawson30 annnd where was my invite?
> yourusername you weren't invited because you beat me at connect 4
>> user4 lmaaooo. Didn't realise y/n was a sore loser
>>> liamlawson30 you should see her when she plays monopoly
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ninyard · 18 days
Note
Heyy! You said someone should ask you about Kevin under this post about Kevin's struggles from the nest of which we don't know enough... So I'm asking you about Kevin! Please tell us your Kevin thoughts! You always make very good points and I like reading your thoughts!!
cody my friend I am so glad you asked but you might regret it. i hope you're prepared from an unorganised huge convoluted MESS of a ramble
i've been thinking for a few days about this one like... what would a kevin POV look like? what is he hiding? how does he cope? WHO IS HE?
the kevin we ""know"" is a "coward", an insufferable bitch, an asshole and a hardass. other people's opinions and view of him makes up the entirety of our impression of who he is. but that's not who he is. that's just who we're supposed to believe he is.
kevin, born and bred to have this... borderline psychopathic lack of empathy, who can look his teammates in the eye after being told seth is dead or andrew is being committed and say, "what about the game?"
but when the raven's are switching districts; his sense of danger and fear is paralysing. he's three steps ahead trying to figure out how to please riko, how to keep himself safe, willing to put himself back into the centre of his abuse just to stop riko from finding him and killing him. he has to get blackout drunk to deal with any amount of riko. he's frozen with fear by being in the same room as him.
kevin knows where jean's mind and body goes to when hes panicking, knowing his worst place is right back in the nest being drowned by riko. kevin telling neil "do you know what he'll do to you?" and "he'll break you" when neil asks for his ticket. kevin's text to him before he goes into the nest, and staring at neil like he'd seen a ghost when neil returns after the nest (when he looks like the butcher). his comforting "i know what he's like" or "i know how he sees you, i know it means he did not hold back,".
kevin nervous breakdown panic attack day vs kevin smile for the cameras one track exy mind day
im so intrigued by him. how does he cope? his mother is dead, probably killed by the mafia family he was raised by. he grew up into a cult, he was only a child watching neil's father cut a man into pieces in front of him. how many other's had he seen?
how many other injuries cover his body, in places where the cameras can't see? how many rapes and assaults was he forced to watch in the nest? how many beatings was he forced to participate in? what did he have to say to jean in french that he didn't want riko to hear?
he needs someone with him all the time because of the nest. he's a "health freak" because of the nest. his sleep schedule, his anger, his anxiety.
did he say "what about the season?" re: andrew after drake because he doesn't care, or did he think "i've seen this happen too many times. and they've always kept playing,"? did he think "andrew is the strongest person i know. andrew is stronger than me. he would never let this destroy him," knowing that it has?
nobody has protected him in his life apart from the cameras and andrew.
he's scared. he doesn't know what love is supposed to look like.
he's only been a human for a year.
his scars are healing for the first time in his life and they're not being replaced by new ones, but every day he's afraid that that's going to get ripped out from underneath him. his entire life already got flipped upside down when he left the nest. of course exy is the only thing he "cares" about.
because it's the only thing that's been certain in his life, and even for those few weeks or months where he thought he would never play again, he trained and trained, and learned how to use his non-dominant hand because he can't lose this. he can't lose exy like he's lost everything else.
kevin has never had anything stable in his life except for violence and exy. now he has people he's supposed to care about, and he has to change his priorities. he has to learn how live a life that isn't fueled by self-preservation for the first time ever.
jean was only in the nest for five years; and look at him. look at what the nest has done to his social skills, his view of himself, his self esteem. look at what it's done to him, how he expects violence and contrition, coach and always waiting and waiting and waiting for the punishment to come.
kevin might not have had the same level of physical abuse that jean had, but he was there far longer. the ravens existed before him; their mindset and their abuse and their violence and their poison.
he's been drinking the raven poison since his childhood. the only difference between him and jean other than those things above is that kevin had more pressure to hide it, because he was half of the face of the ravens, half of the face of Exy; media trained or PR trained or a master at being a fraud and faking the way he speaks when he's being recorded.
kevin knows how to hide his abuse because he has always had to, and he's had quite a lot of practice at it.
kevin has only been a human for a year. kevin has only been kevin for a year.
so who is he? does he even know?
or is he just Kevin Day, Raven Fox starting striker, number two, six foot two, left handed right handed left handed, heavy racquet, stick size five? is that all he will ever see himself as?
anyways. or something like that. maybe he is just an insufferable bitch for no reason at all. who knows!
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worldsover · 6 months
Note
Will we ever get a sequel for Heejin's birthday fic? Just asking btw
Sorry. I am allergic to completing tasks to 100%. For example, as I mentioned in its author notes, there was never even meant to be a sequel since this was supposed to be one story, but instead I posted the incomplete version because the alternative was no story for her birthday. That being said, I do at least have a bit more written, so the same thing applies here: it's unfinished, but at least it's something?
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Heejin Birthday Fic cont.
~2.5k words, incomplete draft of the continuation to Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
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This wasn't fun. Well, it's a little fun. All the games the two of you play.
The best/worst part are all the videos she sends. She starts with the typical: eating an ice cream cone, having cream drip on her fingers; covering herself with oil and rubbing it over her entire body; holding a vibrator to her clit, waiting for your text about what position you want her in; showing her sopping pussy from various angles, and you can tell exactly which angle she sent you and why.
And then her videos get dirtier. There's Heejin on a vertical video, sitting on her bed, dildo deep inside her pussy, just talking. She talks about how she imagines your cock sliding in and out of her pussy, ramming her g-spot and fucking her senseless, while your fingers rub her clit and your mouth suck her tits. You would fill her up with your cum, dripping out of her pussy, down her legs. Then she would get the taste of your cock as she cleans it with her mouth, and how the cum mixing with her juices would taste even better as she slurps it all up. Heejin has a gift for describing things with vivid detail. You never realized just how eloquent her tongue could be. You can't wait until it's on yours again.
There are the times you meet and end up making out and nearly fucking, but you manage to stop. You keep each other on the brink. Sometimes you want to rip each other's clothes off and ravage the other right then and there, and your hearts would race at the thought of all the consequences and dangers involved with doing it outside. But you had to be patient; you were the one who suggested waiting, after all.
But the weeks pass, and you grow restless. You can't wait to claim Heejin as yours, in the most intimate way possible.
And finally, October 19 arrives.
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The restaurant is a small, cozy establishment, with warm lighting and ambient music. You and Heejin are dressed in semi-formal attire, and you admire how beautiful she looks in her black dress, with a slit up the thigh that shows off her perfect legs. You're both a little giddy with anticipation. You feel like it's Christmas, ready to open the ultimate present, even if she's the birthday girl here.
As you sit at the table, Heejin's phone lights up with birthday messages from her friends, and you can't help but wonder what they would think if they knew about you two.
"Wow, you're popular."
She giggles. "I know, it's silly. But, it's kinda sweet."
You take a sip of water. "You know, Heejin, it's been fun, these last couple of weeks, edging. I've never gone this long."
Heejin scoffs. "You're one to talk. It's been hell for me."
"I believe you."
You start to eat your food. The flavors are rich and savory, and the portions are generous. The two of you chat about the usual stuff, like work and your family and the newest set of anime coming out, but no matter how you try, you can't resist being glued to her every touch. Her finger absentmindedly twirls around a strand of hair. Her thighs shift in her seat. A napkin wipes the side of her mouth. The candlelight, and the warmth of the establishment makes her glow, and you're hopelessly under her spell.
Of course, her heel brushing against your inner thigh doesn't help.
"You seem tense," she says.
"Great observation."
"You know, for some reason, I don't feel that full, even after all I ate."
"You wanna go to another restaurant or something?"
Heejin rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm hungry for."
Your mouth rounds to a circle.
She rubs her heel on your pants. "What?"
You throw the napkin on the table and stand up. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."
Heejin bites her lip as you walk away. You enter the bathroom. It's its own individual room, fancy and well-kept. You walk up to the sink and splash cold water on your face, sighing.
You use the toilet. Then, you use your phone to find the nearest hotel and its nearest vacancy. Can't even wait to bring her home. You text her your plan for the night.
Seems even that is too much waiting. A knock. She texts you back.
> open the door.
You gulp. You do, and Heejin steps in, her breathing erratic, her smile mischievous. She pulls you by your tie for a kiss, shoving you against the door. Your tongue and hers are tangling, and you reach for her breast. Your knee is lifting her skirt, and she's grinding against it.
"Heejin," you say, "we gotta, we gotta go somewhere else."
"I can kneel here." And she does just that. "We can make this quick."
She unbuckles your pants and frees your cock, your limp-cock instantly hard in the warmth of her mouth, instantly in the back of her throat.
"Heejin, no, wait, we were saving..."
Pop. "Oh, what, like you don't wanna blow your load down my throat and cum all over my tits and face?"
She's pumping, her fingers slick and tight around your shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her face. She sucks on your balls.
"I bet you'd absolutely ruin this fucking dress with your load."
In the next five minutes, Heejin proceeds to slather your cock in her spit while sucking you down with best blowjob you've ever received. Her lips and tongue are tight, and the heat of her mouth and the vacuum of her suction feels so divine around your cock. And her moans, oh, fuck, how you missed her moans around your shaft. The vibrations tickle your skin and your nerves. You're thankful for the door and the weight of your body preventing the two of you from collapsing, because the pleasure is making your knees weak. And if that wasn't enough, Heejin is relentless in her dirty talk and her sucking.
"God, your cock is fucking amazing. I wanna drink your cum forever. I wish you could shoot your cum deep in my pussy, fill me up. I can't wait to get your cock in my cunt."
She bobs faster, deeper, sucking more intensely. You're about to burst. She knows. Heejin reaches between your legs and squeezes your balls.
Then, she pulls back. Pop. "So, where's the hotel?"
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You pay for your meals, and then you're on the way to the hotel. It's a short taxi ride away, and the two of you keep your hands to yourself.
Once you're in the elevator, you hold Heejin's waist, and she faces you, giggling.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," she says. "Just… happy."
You lean down to kiss her. "Have I told you enough that you're the prettiest girl on the planet?"
"A couple times." She kisses back. "I don't mind you telling me more."
You brush strands of hair away from her face. She puts her hands on your face. Your hand slides up her waist to cup her cheek. She runs her thumb across your bottom lip.
Ding. The elevator doors open, and you step into the hallway. Your room is a few steps down, and you unlock the door.
It's a basic suite, and you don't waste time, dropping your stuff, locking the door, and moving to the bed, pushing Heejin down and kneeling to her height.
She giggles. "Gotta catch up, huh?"
You slide her shoes off her feet, then your own. Then, you slip your hands under her dress and hook a finger on her panties, moving them down her legs. All the while, she takes off your suit jacket and undoes your belt. You move Heejin's panties completely off her ankles. They're soaked. She lies down on the bed.
Your cock is throbbing, but you can't stop staring at the view.
She blushes. "N-no, no more edging. Please. I need to cum, so, so fucking bad. I need you in me, right fucking now."
You swallow. "Don't worry. I'll be inside you soon enough. Just, lemme get a good look of your body first."
Heejin smiles. "My body, huh? What, what's so special about it?"
"Everything."
You're on top of Heejin now, caressing her face.
"Everything," you repeat. You lower your head. "Especially your eyes." You lower your head again. "And your lips." You kiss them. "And your neck." You kiss. She moans. You continue kissing downwards, licking along her collarbone, nibbling on the side of her throat, biting her shoulder. Then you lick the valley between her breasts, pull down the neckline of her dress, and lick circles on her nipples. You hike up the hem of dres to reach a hand to her pussy. "And, this." You rub her lips.
She moans. "What… about that?"
You crawl lower, your face between her legs. You spread her lips, already wet, and you stick your tongue inside her hole. "The prettiest pussy I've ever seen." You lick up her slit.
Heejin grabs your hair and pulls you. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait anymore. Fuck me."
You wipe your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."
"Just… put it in me already."
You get on your knees and rub your cockhead against Heejin's lips, smearing pre-cum. You rub it around her clit, and she shudders, whimpering.
Heejin pushes on your chest. "Wait, hold on, sit up. I wanna watch. Please. Your cock… entering me. I can't wait to see it."
You nod. Heejin sits up too. You grab Heejin's thighs and spread them. Your cockhead rubs against Heejin's entrance again.
"Holy shit, holy shit," she says.
You lick your lips. You push your cock into Heejin's hole, and your head is swimming in her heat, her wetness. Her pussy is already sucking you in, and Heejin is already moaning, and her whole body is already trembling.
"Shit, Heejin, you're already going to cum?"
She nods. "Yes! I'm sorry, it's just, you're finally, finally inside me. I've dreamed about this, so many times, and now it's happening."
"Me too. It's fine, it's fine." You pull back, and then you thrust again, a bit deeper, and Heejin shudders again. "Holy shit."
You pump slowly, Heejin moaning louder and louder, her pussy squeezing you tighter and tighter. Your grip on her thighs is tight, and you push her down, burying your cock deeper. Her back arches, and you start thrusting faster. You grunt. Heejin's pussy is milking your cock, sucking you deeper, and you're pounding her cunt, her moans and your grunts filling the room, until she lets out a scream, a high-pitched, satisfied noise, and her walls are convulsing. And just as you said, you empty your load deep inside her, rope after rope, a thick batch of semen pooling in her hole and leaking past your shaft.
"Holy… shit," she says. Heejin's trying to catch her breath. She looks up at you, a slight smirk on her face. "You're still hard, right?"
You look down. You're still hard.
Even though her legs writhe and her toes curl, she fucks herself into your shaft, covering it in more and more cream.
"Fucking, hell, Heejin, just like that?" You clench your jaw.
"Yeah. Yeah, we just started. I love watching you pump your cock in and out of my pussy, seeing it get all sloppy."
You chuckle. "Slut."
"For you." She wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your back. "Wreck me."
You can do nothing but comply. Heejin's eyes roll back, her lips tremble, and her nails dig into your back, and you fuck her, you fuck Heejin, hard. Using your own creampie as lube, your cock plunges and slams inside Heejin's pussy, over and over. You pick her up from the bed and pound into her as you carry her around the room, making loud wet slaps fill the air. Then, you set her down on the desk, gripping her shoulders, and the room shakes with your thrusts.
Heejin screams and babbles. You're about to cum again already, and so is she. You love her expression, like she's completely drunk to your cock as she loses herself to the pleasure of it stuffing her, pushing your first creampie out just to fill her up again. You're sure she can feel your heartbeat from how far your cock is in her womb. You slow down, then you pull out. Heejin's pussy is drooling cum, and she lies flat on the desk. Your head is so light that you only just now realize you're still cumming, so you jack off onto her body, mainly covering her dress in cum, though some of it reaches her chin. Heejin promptly licks that clean.
"Why," she says. "Why'd you stop? You're, you're still hard. Please."
"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees."
She obeys. "Yes, sir," she says, and you like the way she says that.
You grab Heejin's waist, and then you slam into her pussy. Your pace is just as brutal as when you started the night. Turns out that edging for weeks, then cumming inside a woman's tight pussy, then pulling out and painting her in your cum is more than enough to keep your cock rock hard, and Heejin is more than eager to have your cock pounding her hole as many times as you want.
After the fourth round, your fifth climax, Heejin is a mess on the bed, and so is your cock. It's covered in her cum and your cum and some of her saliva, and her tongue is lazily circling your cockhead while she rests her head on your thighs.
"Do you, do you want to keep going?"
Heejin nods. "Why? Are you tired?"
"I mean, I'm pretty sure I have another few in me. But my abs are killing me."
"Oh yeah? You should try doing planks."
"The way you do them? Yeah, ri—" You're interrupted when Heejin climbs up your body and grabs your cock. You flinch. "No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, Heejin."
"Are you afraid?"
You gulp. "Very."
"I promise it won't hurt. It'll be fun."
When Heejin says it, you believe her. "Fine. Go for it."
Heejin grins. "Awesome." As she positions herself over your shaft, the creampie you filled her with starts to leak onto your stomach, and she holds your cock to point it up towards her hole. She lowers her pussy, and your cock enters her again. She rides you, holding your cock by the base so that the entire time, you feel the entirety of her tunnel envelop you, and your cum is squishing all over her insides.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
If I do get around to finishing the story, I will probably delete this and the initial version of Transcendence, post the full version instead. Big if.
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whorediaries-09 · 4 months
Note
girl here's ur request again bc you probably lost it in the amazing algorithm of tumblr. i still do it for you, babe 🩷 sirius black x reader fic with somnophilia and choking? pretty please with a cherry on top? also, WE MIGHT JUST GET AWAY WITH THIS RELIGION'S IN YOUR LIPS EVEN IF IT'S A FALSE GOD
i didn't loose your previous request(s) my love, i was planning to post them on the valentine's week. anyways that is quite beside the point because imma write this one too. enjoyy.
streets;
pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- set during ootp, cause i CANNOT resist dilf sirius 😔. sorry not sorry haha.
the slut club
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no final fantasy, can we end these games though? you give me energy, make me feel light weigh
it was a nefariously lustful dream. you grinded against the hard object that provided you the friction against your pussy. a sinful sleepy groan left your mouth. you could feel the hotness creep under your skin as you felt your stomach tug with the familiar coil of ecstasy. you felt yourself arch against nothing, trying to let the coil boiling inside you snap, drive you to an edge of insanity.
it the fire in your nerves felt more real than a dream. it was like a consuming blue flame. you could feel the warmth of the musk infused breathe on your neck. you could feel the rough callousness of his hands across the skin of your thighs. you could feel the cold metal of his rings slide across your hot skin, rubbing over your inner thighs. it felt too real to be a dream.
'open your pretty eyes for me love, i need to see your eyes when i make you cum,'
your eyes fluttered open, when it finally dawned upon you. you met the gray eyes you'd been dreaming about. you met the warmth of the body you'd been wanting. you met the touch you'd been dreaming about. you met the one who's name rolled off your tongue with the sweetest sin of pleasure.
'sirius?' you asked, fazed, as his fingers roamed on your clit through your underwear. he leaned closer to you, simultaneously pulling you closer, shuffling on your sheets, barring his pearly white teeth. his knees locked themselves on the either side of your waist, keeping you in place. he took out his fingers from between your thighs, sucking his digits off your arousal. that earned him a guttural moan from your mouth.
'i've heard you moan my name so many times before. when you get your pretty mind dumb with dirty thoughts and play with yourself,' he said, a glimpse of malice in his stormy gray eyes. your heart burned in anticipation. the line between your dreams and reality crashed, when he wrapped his hands around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him, your knees on the either side of his hips.
you felt his growing erection through his pants on your wet core. his well defined pectorals had intricate designs of tattoos inked upon traced thin lines of healed wounds. the thin strands of gray hair hidden between raven locks reflected under the moonlight.
heinously, he grabbed your throat, his fingers pressing lightly on your arteries. he pulled you closer, so your mouth was in line with his lips. he smiled coyly, as if mocking you.
'tell me what you want,' you whimpered as you felt him buck his hips your clothed core. hotness of euphoria lust crept under your skin. he brushed his lips with yours, increasing the force on your artery with each passing second.
'i need you to fuck me,' you whispered. the embarrassment of the situation had dissipated. it was just the bubbling covet of bliss which simmered into every inch of your body.
so when he captured your lips with his teeth, dissolving you into his very soul, devouring you while ripping apart your underwear, your head was fazed. your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, freeing out his cock. he pushed himself inside you, stretching you out perfectly, causing a broken moan for him to swallow. he increased the force on your throat, blocking your supply of oxygen.
he thrusted into you, blurring the lines between the real and the fake. the summer air cooled upon your hot skin, as the hair on his pelvis rubbed on your clit. you felt yourself melt with his touch as he thrusted into you. he left your lips, a string of saliva connecting your kiss bitten lips.
you chanted his name like a fucking mantra, your moans and whimpers broken by the force of his hand around your throat. the cool metal of his rings contrasted against your hot skin. you lost yourself into cloud nine, in his heaven like eyes. he was a drug, a dream an overdose of sinful heaven.
it was sweetness and danger, when you felt the coil of orgasm bubble inside you again. your mind was dizzy with the lack of oxygen. you rolled your hips, as his cock hit your sweet spot just right. the scream got caught in your throat, and you rolled your eyes. you felt your toes curl, and thighs shake as your euphoric pleasure hit you. you clenched your walls around his cock, releasing your juices on his stomach.
he pounded into you, his hand leaving your throat, as you came down from the high, your lungs savoring in the supply of air. you hid your face into the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. you heard his soft gasps and felt his cock twitch inside you. you rolled your hips, urging him to release himself inside you. he bit your shoulder, as he came, painting your insides with hot ropes of cum.
the final fantasy had melted into a reality, as you fell beside his heaving body, your thighs slick and sticky.
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peanutpinet · 4 months
Note
haii! I saw that you request is open. i want to request with mafia!jaehyun x wife!reader. Jaehyun and your brother (johnny) are known have died, killed by their rivals. unknowingly you're having a child years later, and when the other group saw, they wanted to kill both of you.
suprisingly, you were saved by nct and you mad at them being shadows and hide themselves from you for years especially jaehyun and johnny. so, (especially) jaehyun and the others regaining your trust back and want to be a dad in your child live, you're slowly trust him and others again (maybe there's an incident or something that jaehyun almost being killed cause he saved you and/or child(?)). thank you
Back For You - Mafia! Jaehyun x Wife! Fem Reader (ft Older Brother Johnny)
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HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE!! I HOPE THAT EVERYONE HAD A GREAT JANUARY (jokes on me for saying happy new year but posting this at the end of January) I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA BUT I was away for a 2-week holiday which took a lot out of me. Don't worry, I've tried to write a bit and while this isn't my best writing since I'm still trying things, I hope that the anon who requested this and those who are reading will still enjoy it!! Manifesting a better year for everyone!!
A/N: hi anon, thank you for requesting, it means a lot that you like my writing :(( coincidentally, I have been reading a few nct fics about the reader having the neos’ child but the neo never knew that they had a child. I do want to point out that this specific mafia story won’t be included in the mini mafia universe that I’ve made as the timeline doesn’t really match but I will make another Jaehyun mafia fic in the same mafia universe that I’ve created!
Also, to the anon who requested the Johnny & TY mafia, Jisung mafia, thank you guys for being patient but I am going through my requests (actually shocked I have several of requests because I didn't think my writing would be enjoyable without a smut sometimes). Also, also! TY's girl is making an appearance in the next two mafia fics and her name is Kim Eunji because I used this name for my translated version of TY's first mafia fic over on my Wattpad. Okay, onto the story!
Warnings: suggestive, angst, mentions of pregnancy and child birth, gunshots, blood, lil fluff
It took 5 years of trying to heal yourself from your loss. 5 years to finally be able to accept that it was now just you and your son, Yuno together. 5 years since your husband and brother, Jaehyun and Johnny respectively were reported to have died in a car accident. But those 5 years of acceptance and peace were soon ripped in a matter of seconds.
You were just picking up your son from daycare who was one of the last kids there because you had to finish your shift but when you had just arrived, you saw several black SUVs that came from around the corner.
At first you didn’t think much about it because you have never been associated with anything illegal nor have you done anything wrong in your life.
But right when you picked up your son and headed out, there were several men who came out of the SUVs and stopped in front of you and your son.
Instinctively, you held your son tighter to you as one of the men came towards you, mentioning a name that you have not heard in the past 5 years of your life.
“Are you Jung (Y/N), wife of Jung Jaehyun and younger sister of Johnny Suh?” one of the men questioned which made you wrap your arms around your son, your motherly instinct moved him behind you
“And who are you to ask?” you hissed but the man just chuckled until you noticed the other men surrounding you and your son
“We’d just like to ask you several questions about your husband and older brother. So if you would come with us and have a little chat…” the man mentioned, looking at your son. “We wouldn’t want the kid to see something that he wouldn’t want to see, now would we?”
“Mommy…” your son called out to you but you wouldn’t let him come out from behind you
“I don’t know how you know my name, my deceased brother and husband’s name but as far as I know, none of us have any association with people like you. And plus, like I’ve mentioned, my brother and husband are both dead. If there were any debts that they may have, their lawyer would’ve said something to me years ago” you tried your best to sound brave but in reality you feared what may happen to you and your son; especially when some of the men came closer
“You should come while we’re being civil” the man scoffed as he commanded the other men to take out some of their weapons as you shielded your son from the scene he might witness
But somehow, as if your husband has been protecting you even before your marriage, there were other men who came and took down all the men that were surrounding you before they could even do anything to you or your son.
Amongst the men who helped you, there was one with white/silver hair and black tint underneath. He walked past everyone and stood in front of you, his eyes was big but his eyebrows made him have a more strict look.
What he did next was what you didn’t expect. The man kneeled to your son’s level and even called him by his name. “Hey, you must be scared, aren’t you? I’m Taeyong. You can call me uncle Tae. I know your father very well. You have his dimples and eyes but have your mom’s smile. You’re a brave boy like your dad”
“You know Jaehyun?” You asked as Taeyong looked at you, his eyes turned soft and even looked like he was sorry when he stood back up to face you
“I think he and Johnny should be the one to tell you everything. I have no right to get in between family business” Taeyong mentioned while you stood in shock
“W-what do you mean that he and Johnny…” you stuttered but Taeyong continued before you got to finish your sentence. “They’re alive. Both of them. We found them 5 years ago, barely breathing and they were both in a coma for almost a whole year but enough of that, how about I…”
“How do I know that you’re not using them to get to me or something? For all I know you could be working with those people from before or something” you questioned, making Taeyong sigh until you heard the very voices that you thought you would never hear ever again
“(Y/N)!!!” You heard Jaehyun shout and turning around, you saw Jaehyun, your husband and Johnny, your older brother; both of whom you thought were dead were now in front of you
“H-hey, hey” Jaehyun came and held you in his arms, pulling you to his chest as you sobbed whereas Johnny came to hug his nephew
“Sssh, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m alive. We’re alive” Jaehyun tried to calm you down but you broke down even more and hit his chest, pushing him away as your tears covered your vision
“How could you! Both of you!!” You screamed at both men who lied to you for the past 5 years. Both men whom you cherished close to you and mourned hard when you heard about their car crash and no bodies were found 5 years ago
“I cried for both of you. I mourned you both. I had to go through pregnancy and birth on my own. I did everything alone for the past 5 years. Y-you both don’t get to just waltz back in as if nothing happened” you cried, even falling to the ground as your son rush to your side, hugging you
“Sweetheart. Little flower” both Jaehyun and Johnny said at the same time, both coming closer but your son stood in front of you
“H-hey lil peach…” Jaehyun uttered, about to kneel down to your son’s height but just like Jaehyun, your son was overly protective of you ever since he was just 2 years old
“Go away” your son shouted as you tried to calm him but he kept on going. “Don’t make my mom cry”
“Lil peach, I’m not gonna…” Jaehyun tried to reach out to his own son but he was rejected. “No!!”
“You made my mom cry! I don’t want mommy to cry anymore!” Your son shouted but you quickly hugged him, calming him down. “Hey, hey. Jeong Yuno, what did mommy teach you?” you mentioned your son’s name, making Jaehyun tear up a bit because you named your son after his name
“Don’t shout at anyone. Don’t shout to your elders, okay? Especially your dad and uncle” you stroke your son’s head who looks at you with the same worried eyes as Jaehyun’s
“I don’t want you to cry anymore mommy. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t mommy sad. I want mommy happy” your son mentioned, making both Jaehyun and Johnny’s hearts clench
“Mommy’s not sad. Don’t worry, mommy’s okay” you cooed your son, hugging him close to you as you lift him up
“(Y/n)…” Jaehyun uttered, trying to reach for both you and your son
“Don’t…I, I can’t deal with this. I want to go home” you mentioned, your voice was clearly tired
“It’s not safe for you to go back home” Jaehyun mentioned. “Then where am I supposed to go Jaehyun?!” You argued back, Jaehyun clenching his fists
“We’ll take you back somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can find nor touch either of you. Somewhere I should’ve brought you to a long time ago” Jaehyun mentioned, directing to you one of the cars
“Little flower…” Johnny breathed but you walked past him, carrying your son tightly and protectively in your arms
“Know that I’m only going with you guys for my son’s safety and not because I’ve forgiven either of you just yet” you uttered, going into the car as Taeyong closed it before it went off
“Get some rest. Both of you. You can talk to her tomorrow” Taeyong mentioned, heading to his own car
“Hyung!” Jaehyun called out to Taeyong
“I told you that you both that you should’ve gone back to her back then. I kept my side of the promise and took care of her when you both went on that mission. But you broke your side of the promise to go back to her” Taeyong stated, looking at his two members
“I understand during the first year because you both were brutally injured from the accident but afterwards?” Taeyong reminded. “I don’t mean to butt into your family business but if either of you forgot, your wife and sister was pregnant and about to give birth when you guys were already awake from your coma. Regardless of your reasoning, both of you should’ve gone back to her. Losing two of your loved ones during pregnancy and birth is not easy and the fact that she went through all of that alone makes me respect her so much”
“I suggest you both discuss on your own. I can only do so much by ensuring her safety. You both already lost the past 5 years with her. Don’t lose her as well” Taeyong advised
Throughout the ride back to NCT’s penthouse, both Jaehyun and Johnny discussed how they were going to try and approach you. Johnny saying that he wants to approach you first because he is your only related family member left and he wants to make sure that you know he will always take care of you somehow.
But Jaehyun wanted the three of you to just sit down and talk so none of you misunderstood one another. Both Jaehyun and Johnny kept debating until they reached the room that Taeyong provided for you and your son.
Softly, Jaehyun knocked on the door, worried that he might accidentally wake you and your son but luckily you were still awake and answered the door.
Upon opening the door and seeing Jaehyun and Johnny, your first instinct was to shut it close but knowing both your husband and brother, you might as well talk it out with them and get it over with.
“What do you guys want?” you questioned, your voice coming out strong and rough, your eyes and nose were still red from all the crying
“Can we talk? The three of us. We owe you a full explanation about what happened and everything” Johnny mentioned, hoping that you’d give him and Jaehyun a chance to explain for themselves
“Not in here. I just put Yuno to sleep. He wouldn’t sleep until I fall asleep” you replied and hearing your reply, Jaehyun wanted to hug you and let you know that he never meant to leave you alone but he restrained himself until you finally accepted his apology and allowed him to be back in both you and your son’s life
“Let’s go next door then, it’s my room” Johnny suggested and you nodded in agreement
You came to find out that your room was situated between Johnny and Jaehyun’s room with Johnny being right next door and Jaehyun across your room.
Inside Johnny’s penthouse, you were welcomed with the modern but minimalistic interior with several additions of rare collectables which you knew your brother had been very fond of since young. You took in his entire place until you saw several framed pictures of him, Jaehyun, some of their other friends and even with you framed in the center amongst the other pictures.
“Do you still like your tea with 90% milk and sugar?” Johnny asked, already at the pantry, brewing up your favourite tea for you
“Yea, I can’t have too much caffeine during the night anyways” you replied, accepting the tea from your brother
“So, you guys going to explain yourselves on leaving me for the past 5 years?” you questioned, looking down at your husband and brother who sat across you
To say you were speechless was definitely an understatement because as much as you tried to understand their point of views, you became angrier than before. Ever since your brother was in high school, he had already been in the mafia and as for your husband, Jaehyun officially became apart of it when he almost graduated high school.
Not only were they able to keep this secret life from you for the past 10+ years, but the fact they also hide themselves for the past 5 years all because they were scared to face you when they were still injured just didn’t make sense to you.
“What the fuck do you mean that you were scared to face me?!” you shouted, standing up from the sofa, angry at both your brother and husband
“Flower, we wanted to back to you, I swear. We were just caught up with other things…” Johnny tried to reason. “We were both badly injured and barely able to process anything…”
“But you got back up. You could’ve come to me. Your friends could’ve said something. I want to understand you but I can’t. Do you know how hard it was when I found out I was pregnant but before I could tell either of you, I saw your car crash on the news. I almost lost my baby. I almost lost my son that day too if it weren’t for your mom coming over to visit me early in the morning” you rambled on, making both Johnny and Jaehyun even more guilty
“Does your mom even know, Jaehyun?” you asked but received no answer from him
“I’m leaving” you let out which made both Johnny and Jaehyun immediately stood up, blocking your way
“I mean I’m leaving this room and going back to see my son. I can’t be in the same room with either of you right now” I pointed out, about to head to the door but a hand grabbed my wrist and from the touch, I knew that it was Jaehyun
“(y/n)…dimple…” Jaehyun let out that nickname he used to call me those years ago
The nickname that he gave me because he would always mention how he consider me as his dimple because his dimple is a part of him and he would always consider me as a part of him. I believed it, until he disappeared and reappeared back.
“Don’t call me that, Jeong” I hissed back, tears were threatening to spill again
“I swear I wanted to come back to you. Both me and Johnny. Me especially. I know what we did was horrible towards you and I’m not asking you to forgive and accept us back immediately but I just hope…” Jaehyun sighed. “I hope that you would at least let me into Yuno’s life. Let me be the father and husband I should’ve been all those years that I was gone”
Immediately, you ripped your arm away from Jaehyun and looked at him with anger and frustration. “You both got badly injured during and needed a year to fully recover fine. Your friends/members not coming to tell me anything about you because it’s classified, fined. But not telling your own mother and letting her, me and our son to believe that you were dead is beyond me. I don’t need words, Jeong. Neither does Yuno. All we wanted was for you to be there but you weren’t. You’re basically 5 years too late”
“I know” Jaehyun let out a shaky breath. “I, we, didn’t mean to lie to you and not come back sooner. We wanted to tell you but we were just waiting for the right time because we wanted to protect you long enough until we weren’t heavily involved anymore”
“Protect? Protecting me from those who were against you or protecting yourself from what might happen if you had told me before you disappeared?” you sighed
“You know what hurts more? Not when I lost both of you and almost lost Yuno that day. But the fact that I can’t hate either of you. I want to hate you both but I can’t. Because I know what it feels like growing up without a parent figure. I tried so hard to be that parent figure for Yuno but I could never replace his dad” you said, making Jaehyun more hopeful
“Don’t think that I’ve forgiven either one of you just yet. But I’m not as cruel as you to not see Yuno or try to be the father and uncle he should’ve had since he was born” you opened the door, ready to go back to your son. “I’m saying that you both can try your best to come back to our lives, but I can’t guarantee that either one of us would accept you. You might be the father Jaehyun but I was the one that took care of him the past 5 years and from what you’ve seen, our son doesn’t even consider you his dad even when I’ve told him and showed him pictures of you. Good night, Jaehyun, Johnny”
You left both men to the quiet and chill room with the loud noise of their own thoughts and guilt.
Despite leaving both Jaehyun and Johnny on a bad note, the two accepted your anger and instead, hearing you let out your own emotion fueled them to try their best to do whatever it took to get both you and Yuno’s apology.
The next morning, right when you were about to leave and bring Yuno to daycare, both Jaehyun and Johnny were right in front of your door as you came out with your son.
“Geezus, can you guys not this early in the morning?!” you sighed as your son gripped your hand tighter
“Sorry. We didn’t want to disturb your morning so we waited out here. But we got some breakfast sandwiches for both of you and caramel latte for you” Jaehyun mentioned, handing you the bag which you accepted
“Thanks. If there isn’t anything else, I really need to go and take Yuno to daycare and I also need to go to work” you mentioned, about to walk past both men but they stopped you before you could take another step
“What is it this time?” you asked, raising your eyebrow
“Sorry lil sis, I don’t think you should be going to work anymore” Johnny said, making you scoff. “You might be my older brother but you don’t have the rights to tell me what I can or cannot do”
“Johnny’s right (y/n). Those men the other day know who you are. It would only take time before other people would find you or Yuno and neither me nor Johnny wants that to happen again” Jaehyun replied, looking at you with those damn worried eyes
“If I don’t work then how am I supposed to afford a living?” you argued, challenging both Johnny and Jaehyun
“We’re both here now. We’ll fund everything. Especially me. I’m going to fun for both you and Yuno. I want to be the father that Yuno deserves to have. You can push me or Johnny away as much as you want but we will still try to squeeze ourselves back into both of your lives” Jaehyun mentioned and hearing his tone, you know how stubborn Jaehyun is going to be
Sighing, you agreed to not go to work and let your boss know that you have to quit so suddenly because of a family issue.
“Fine. I won’t go to work. But I’m not going to let my…”
“Our son” Jaehyun mentioned, making you roll your eyes. “Our son not go to school” you finished your sentence while Jaehyun kneeled down to Yuno’s height
“Of course not. I’ll take him to school and wait until his school ends” Jaehyun mentioned, smiling at Yuno, his dimples showing
But when Jaehyun took his hand out, trying to convince Yuno to come with him, Yuno shook his head. “No. I want to go with mommy”
“Lil peach…your mommy and uncle need to have a chat and I want to get to know you more” Jaehyun tried to convince him but Yuno stood his ground, gripping onto your leg
“Hey, hey lil bud” you mumbled, kneeling to your son’s height, holding his small hands in yours. “What did mommy tell you before?”
“Give daddy a chance” both you and Yuno said at the same time, making Jaehyun want to tear up knowing that despite what he did, you still taught your son to give him a chance
“That’s right lil bud. What happened to mommy shouldn’t be the reason for you to not give your daddy a chance. Also, it’s a good way to know if he’s actually making an effort. Plus, mommy needs to talk to uncle Johnny, okay? When you come back, mommy is going to make your favourite food, braised beef with toppokki” you mentioned, Jaehyun almost choked on his saliva hearing his son’s favourite food being the same as his
“Okay mommy” Yuno mumbled, looking over at Jaehyun who still offered his hand and slowly grabbed it
“I promise that I’ll keep him safe” Jaehyun mentioned, standing back up, softly holding his son’s hand
“On scratch on his body or any drop of blood, I will end you, Jeong” you threatened, kissing your son’s cheek as he kissed yours before letting Jaehyun take your son to daycare
Jaehyun’s POV
On the way down to my car, Yuno didn’t say a word and even when we were in the elevator, out of (y/n) and Johnny’s sight, Yuno let go of my hand which confused me.
“Lil peach…” I let out but Yuno’s reply shocked me. “Yuno. That’s my name. Not lil peach. Only mommy gets to call me other names”
“Okay, Yuno. Can you tell me why you let go of my hand?” I asked as the elevator opened to the car park and I directed him to my car
“Because even though mommy says you’re my daddy, you’re not” Yuno mentioned, getting into the car without my help
After closing the door to Yuno’s side, I went into mine and saw that he already put his seatbelt on his own. “Damn, this kid is too smart for a 5-year-old,” I thought to myself as I drove off
“Why would you say that I’m not your daddy?” I asked
“Because you hurt mommy. You made mommy cry” Yuno mentioned. “You might be my daddy but if you hurt mommy, you’re not my daddy. Wait until I grow up and I will be the only guy that mommy needs”
“You should know that without me, you wouldn’t exist. You can try all you want but I will win your mom back and then let’s see who the guy will come out on top” I scoffed, disbelieved at my own son’s words to me
“You can try but you’re no one to mommy. You’re not related by blood unlike me. You don’t know mommy like I do. You don’t know how hard mommy tries to be strong to take care of me. You don’t know that mommy likes to talk about you. You don’t know that mommy talks nice things about you but to me, you still hurt mommy. Especially when you came back” Yuno mentioned, making me grip the steering wheel harder
“H-Has your mommy been seeing someone else? Another guy?” I asked, being selfish and hoping that (y/n) hadn’t seen anyone else
“No. Though lots of guys have been trying to talk to her but when I ask mommy, she always mentions you” Yuno admitted, making me sigh with relief
“I won’t leave you both again. Especially your mom. I love her so much that I want to come back and take care of her. And you” I mentioned, parking by the daycare, looking at Yuno
“Why are you looking at me?” Yuno asked
“Because I need your help” I mentioned
Your apartment - Your POV
After Jaehyun left with Yuno, Johnny wanted to immediately talk but I told him that I wanted to grab several things from my previous apartment. Johnny agreed and he drove us to my old apartment.
“What actually happened since you found out that we were involved in an accident?” Johnny asked, his voice sounded nervous as we walked into my apartment
“Lots of things happened, John. I almost lost Yuno. I had to sell our old house to have enough money to live for a year or so since both of your accounts sacred and I only had the joint account with Jaehyun but even that, somehow, the account was frozen so after Yuno turned 1, I had to look for a job since I didn’t want to burden Jaehyun’s parents who were both already at old age” I explained, recalling one of the most traumatic moments in my life
“I’m sorry sis. We both are, really” Johnny let out
“I was lucky Jaehyun’s parents were still around. We were all sad at what happened to both of you. Did Jaehyun ever go back to his parents?” I asked but Johnny shook his head
“He was scared. We both were. When Taeyong and the others couldn’t find us, they froze our accounts, everything linked to us. Of course not your or his parents’ personal accounts. That’s how your joint account was frozen” Johnny explained
“What could have possibly scared the two of you more than me and Jaehyun’s parents getting angry at both of you?” I questioned, about to blow a fuse at my confusing brother for his reasoning but Johnny sushed me
“What is it now, John…”I let out but we both hear unfamiliar voices
“I thought you said that you saw that clueless bitch and somehow alived brother walking past here just now” an unknown man stated, making you worry and looked at Johnny who looked pissed
“(y/n), go into your room” Johnny looked at me, his hand was by his waist and I could see him holding a gun. “Now”
I didn’t need to be told twice and rushed to my room, locking it and as I was about to get under my bed, I heard a loud gunshot followed by several grunts. Not wanting to listen to all the noise outside, I decided to call the only other person that could manage to calm me down.
“Hello? (Y/N)” Jaehyun’s voice was a bit taken aback that I called him
“Jae…” I let out
“Where are you? Where’s Johnny? What happened?” Jaehyun asked, his voice was worried
“I’m at my old apartment. Johnny…” I was about to reply but heard another gunshot. “Johnny’s outside, there are some people that I don’t know of”
“Dimple…I’m sorry that you have to go through this two days in a row but one things for sure, we won’t let you be alone anymore. Talk to me dimple, tell me how you’re feeling” Jaehyun replied
“How are you so calm? What if something happens to Johnny and…I can’t lose either one of you again” you replied back
“It’s part of our job, dimple and you’re not going to lose either one of us again. What happened 5 years ago is a one time only. It won’t happen again. Me and Johnny will make sure of it” Jaehyun ensured me
“How’s Yuno? Did he cause any problems for you?” I asked, trying to get my mind off what was happening outside
“No problems at all. He just told me some things, that’s all. You really taught him well, didn’t you. He even stood up against his own father for his mom” Jaehyun joked
“That’s because he didn’t know you like I did” I replied
“And how did you know me, hmm?” Jaehyun teased, making me roll my eyes
Luckily, before I have to reply him, I heard Johnny called out to me. “(y/n)? Are you alright in there?”
“Johnny’s calling. I’ll um talk to you later then Jae. Don’t forget about Yuno” I told him but heard giggling. “Don’t worry about him. Go, Johnny’s going to get worried”
Turning off the call, I opened the door and saw Johnny who looked a bit tired but relieved. Immediately, I hugged him as he hugged back. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. You’re okay, right?”
“I’m okay. W-what happened out there?” I asked but Johnny shook his head
“Nothing you should worry about. Come on. I’ll help you grab the things you need and we can head back” Johnny mentioned
It didn’t take long to take almost all the things because apparently, Johnny had called some of his friends to come and help us bring some of mine and Yuno’s things back to the penthouse.
Arriving back at the penthouse, Johnny and his friends helped me unpack some of my things and during the tidying up, we heard a ring to the door and Johnny opened it to let Jaehyun and Yuno in. Yuno immediately went up to me and I hugged him.
“Did you have a good day today?” I asked as Yuno nodded and took something out of his backpack, which was a drawing
“My teacher told us to draw something that makes us happy and I draw you being happy even if it’s with daddy and uncle” Yuno mentioned and I looked at the drawing he did
It was a simple kids drawing but knowing our history, it meant a lot that Yuno somehow is slowly accepting both Jaehyun and Johnny in his life even though they have been absent in both our lives for the past 5 years.
Sometime during the rest of the day, you and Jaehyun decided to cook together and after dinner, the two of you were doing the dishes together; reminiscing the times you both were in college and cooking in the small tiny dorms whilst Johnny and Yuno were getting to know each other.
“How did you manage to get Yuno to talk to you and actually like you?” you asked, waiting for the water to boil as Jaehyun was leaning on the counter after washing some of the dishes
“I wouldn’t say that he has completely accepted me but we managed to talk. He’s very smart for a 5-year-old” Jaehyun mentioned
“I know. I worry about him. I don’t want him to mature quickly just because of the situation. I want him to have a normal childhood where he’s loved and can have fun for as long as he can” you mentioned, looking over at Yuno who was actually having fun with Johnny
“(Y/N)” Jaehyun called out to me, making me look at him as he grabbed my hands in his; an act that he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something serious
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for both of you the past 5 years. I’m sorry I was a coward for not going back to both of you sooner and I’m sorry that I can’t turn back time to change all that because I know I would do anything to go back and be with the both of you. Especially you. I should’ve been there to take care of you. I should’ve been there to protect you. I should’ve been there to feel the pain you’ve felt because it was nothing compared to mine” Jaehyun mentioned, kissing the top of your hands, another habit that he likes to do to calm your nerves
“Jae…” you breathed out but Jaehyun didn’t let you continue. “Would you allow me and Johnny back? I know that it’s going to take a lot more to make up for the times we’ve lost but I’m willing to do anything for the both of you and…”
Kiss This time, you were the one that didn’t let Jaehyun continue and landed a soft kiss on his cheek, whilst caressing his jawline with one of your hands.
“You know that I hate all the bullshit talk. You might as well show me how sorry you are” you challenged Jaehyun who felt a sense of relief wash over him
But before you and Jaehyun could continue anything, both Johnny and Yuno came up to both of you. “Umm, sorry to disturb but I’m gonna take the lil guy back to my place” Johnny mentioned and Jaehyun was internally screaming thank you because he finally got to have some alone time with you after 5 years
“Do you need anything or any snacks bub?” you asked your son who just shook his head
“I’m okay, mommy. I wanna play some games with uncle Johnny!” Yuno exclaimed, making you giggle
“Alright. But don’t stay up too late. Go grab your pyjamas and backpack. Johnny, I trust you won’t be irresponsible. He has school tomorrow” you mentioned, looking up at your brother who just shrugged whilst your son rushed to his room
“I won’t. But I’m not so sure about you both so that’s why I’m offering to take care of the lil guy while you both sort things out together” Johnny snickered making you smack his arm while your son comes back, already wearing his backpack
“Bye mommy!!” your son greeted you as you went down to his height and he kissed you on your cheeks
“You behave alright. Don’t trouble uncle Johnny” you reminded as he smiled
“I promise don’t worry” your son replied and he went towards Jaehyun who also kneeled to his height. “Don’t make mommy cry!”
“I won’t lil peach. If she cries it’s because of a movie or something else” Jaehyun mentioned, making you smack his head. “You see. Your mom will kill me before I hurt her anyways”
Shaking his head, your son went over back to you and hugged you before going to grab Johnny’s hands, the two bidding both of you and Jaehyun goodbye.
“I should really get you and him to have more father and son outings before he really rebels against you” you mumbled while Jaehyun went behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on the crook of your neck, giving it light kisses
“It’s alright. You’ve taught him well enough. He’s looking out for his mom anyways” Jaehyun murmured, sucking on your skin, making you moan as you let your head fall back
“I’ll teach him more though. If you’ll let me. I know that you’re worried but I’m more worried if something were to happen to both of you and I wasn’t around” Jaehyun sighed but you turned around, your hands wrapped around his neck
“I trust you Jae. You maybe a dick for leaving us for 5 years but you promise to make up for it. Then do it. Make up for your lost time with us. Treat us how you’re supposed to treat us those psat 5 years” you challenged him again
Without warning, Jaehyun lifted you up, forcing your legs to wrapped around his waist as he turned you around, making your back hit the wall as he captured your lips to his; one of his hand cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss between you.
When the two of you pull away and looked at each other, the two of you giggle just like when you were in college, sneaking around to make out with each other.
“Shall we continue it here or do you want the bed?” Jaehyun asked but you kissed him instead
“Anywhere Jeong. Just proof to me that you’re not leaving us again. I can’t deal with another loss” you cried but Jaehyun quickly shushed you
“You won’t. I’m promise. I came back for both of you and I’m staying for both of you. I’m sorry, dimple. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed you so fucking much” Jaehyun kissed your temple, each of your eyes, the tip of your nose and then your lips
Each kiss makes you bring him closer to you as you cried on his chest while he cradles your body. “It’s okay. Let it out” Jaehyun knows that he can make up for all the intimate and sexual needs later and what’s important is to make sure is to tend your needs. Whatever you want or need, Jaehyun will do it.
When you finally relaxed in Jaehyun’s arms, you looked at him again with glossy eyes but to Jaehyun, you’re just as adorable as he remembers. Smiling and flashing his dimples, Jaehyun leaned down to give a softer kiss to your lips but you were the one that craved more.
“Someone’s eager. Bed?” Jaehyun asked but all you could do was nod
Immediately, Jaehyun carried you bridal style just as he did the night of your wedding when Jaehyun carried you to your bedroom.
Because of your motherly sense, you woke up earlier than you would have liked and went to the kitchen, slowly removing Jaehyun’s big arms. When you got to kitchen to make breakfast and check your phone, Johnny already texted you that he already took your son to kindergarten and told you to just rest.
Johnny: I took the kid to kindergarten already. We got some breakfast sandwich along the way and I’m gonna wait for him. You have fun with Jae ;)
You smile as you read the text, not realising that Jaehyun was eyeing you from the corner until you turned to see him leaning towards the wall with only his sweatpants, his chest was still bare from last night’s activities.
“Geezus. Can’t you at least knock. You’re going to make me have a heart attack” you exclaimed, making Jaehyun chuckle as he went next to you, kissing the side of your temple before backhugging you as you attempt to make breakfast
“I wouldn’t dream of it” Jaehyun murmured
The two of you just enjoyed each other’s company whilst making breakfast together until Jaehyun asked you a question that he wanted to ask. “Dimple” Jaehyun called out, making you look at him
“Why didn’t you get mad at me? Why didn’t you make me suffer more and longer? I deserved it you know. 5 years is a long time and not to mention for 9 months you were pregnant and had to raise Yuno on your own with my parents for the next few years. You could’ve made me beg for the next 5 years but you didn’t, why?” Jaehyun asked, making you blink a few times before going to stand in front of him, cupping his jaw in your small hands
“I’m disappointed. Not angry. There’s a difference. I’m still disappointed in you and Johnny but I know that there’s no point in staying angry for too long. Yes, I still don’t fully understand the world you guys are in but I know that it’s not easy at all and you both tried your best to take care of me and Yuno however you can. Let me ask you back. When Yuno turned 3 and I received an email from the bank that our joint account was not frozen anymore, it was you, wasn’t it? When I was struggling to pay the bills and suddenly the landlord said it was all cleared for the next year, it was you, right? When Yuno was sick and there was medicine in the mail, it was from you, wsn’t it?” you asked, and Jaehyun held your hand, rubbing it
“I was a coward. I helped you but I didn’t have the strength to face you. You should hate me” Jaehyun mentioned
“But I don’t because I know that when it comes to family, you would never forget us no matter what. I’m still hurt and need reassurance but I want us to be a family again. Only if you promise to be better” you replied and Jaehyun immediately kisses you
Pulling away for a moment, Jaehyun caresses your face and lets his forehead rest on yours as both your noses touch each other. “I fucking love you, you know that? I promise I’ll be better for you and Yuno. I’m officially back for both of you”
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deandoesthingstome · 1 year
Text
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.
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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.
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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.”
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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!”
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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.
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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.
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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’
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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
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rubystatic · 9 months
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Asking For Trouble
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I wasn't sure what to write for my first post here. I haven't written for Hazbin Hotel before, but I figured what better introduction to the fandom than a literal introduction between Alastor and the reader? I've had this scene rattling around in my head for a few weeks, so I hope you enjoy it.
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Contents: demonic summoning, Alastor being an eldritch horror, hints of gore, blood, minor self-injury (not sh)
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The red paint glistens like fresh blood in the light of the candles. A dozen or more of them, scattered around your living room, resting atop the coffee table, the TV stand, melted onto the top of the bookcase and the windowsill. Thick, black candles you bought from the Halloween clearance sale at the local big box store. You don’t think colour matters, but it felt right for the occasion. If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right. 
A clear space dominates the centre of the room—all the furniture has been pushed aside, crowding up against the walls to make room. You’ve rolled up the living room rug and propped it against the stairs. 
When you first moved into your basement apartment, you were dismayed to discover that it had a poured concrete floor, and that the landlord hadn’t bothered to put in carpet or laminate or even cheap lino. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the rent price was such a steal, you didn’t dare question him on it in case he decided he wanted a less whiny tenant. 
You have reason to be grateful for it now, though. A red pentagram painted on a wooden floor or carpet would be a quick way to make sure you never got back your security deposit. A bit of turpentine and it’ll be like this never happened. 
Assuming that you’re still alive. If this even works.
The thing that started it all, a simple black notebook—some Moleskine rip-off—sits open at the edge of your circle, along with a whole mess of measuring implements. A simple protractor wasn’t good enough for something like this. You’d had to buy some stuff off the internet, and now your Amazon recommendations looked like a geometry professor’s wet dream. 
And there I was, thinking 10th grade math would never get me anywhere in the real world. 
You pick up the notebook, glancing between the scrawled diagrams and measurements and your own summoning circle. It looks right. It had better be, since you spent all afternoon hunched over, painting it with dollar store acrylic paints. Oh, and your life depends on it. Can’t forget that much. 
The notebook is a journal of sorts. You found it behind the bookcase when you first moved in, wedged there and forgotten. The pages are covered in the feverish scrawl of a previous resident. At first you felt a little weird about reading it, but curiosity overcame any moral quandary you had in the end. 
The journal outlines the three month period it took for a young writer to seemingly descend into madness as his work was rejected, over and over. As his girlfriend left him, his father died, and his life fell to pieces. He became more and more desperate, his writing growing erratic. His writing research had already led him down some occult paths, but it seemed he’d decided to pursue them even further.
Which was you’ve come to be kneeling on your living room floor, trying to summon a demon.
Taking a deep breath, you flip to the last page, where the invocation is written, the pen almost tearing through the paper in some places. It’s the last entry. 
You reach out, and use your fingertips to push a plate of venison over the boundary line, into the centre of the pentagram. The meat is a dark, pinkish red, practically pulsing with blood and vitality, as the journal instructs. 
Getting it necessitated a trip outside city limits to a questionable butcher in the countryside who specialised in game meat. The journal is very clear—it has to be fresh. Supermarket meat won’t cut it.
Everything is in place. There’s nothing left to do but begin.
You take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you lift the journal, holding it open. You have a strange feeling of duality, that you’re both at once powerful and ridiculous. Someone tearing open the veil between worlds to seek higher (or lower) power, and someone playing pretend. 
You force yourself to ignore the latter, pushing it aside and holding onto the image that what you’re doing is going to work. Faith is important, even if it isn’t invested wisely. 
“Let—”
Oh, shit, you’ve forgotten a step. 
Dropping the journal in your haste, you reach for the small pen knife lying at the edge of the circle. Gritting your teeth, you tighten your grip on the wooden handle, and make a small cut on the side of your thumb. Holding your fist out over the circle, you let a few beads of blood, looking almost black in the candle light, splatter the venison. 
You open a bandaid and slap it over the cut, pleased you haven’t completely sliced your palm open like they do in movies. Don’t they know how long that takes to heal? 
Anyway, back to the demon summoning. 
“Let this offering of flesh and blood open the veil between the earthly realm and the depths of Hell,” you read aloud, your voice becoming stronger with every word.
No wonder that writer guy couldn’t get his shit published if this is how he wrote everything. Despite the stilted prose, you keep reciting it aloud, just glad it’s not in Latin, or worse, rhyming. 
“I summon you, o’ Deal Maker, Keeper of Bargains, Purchaser of Souls—” 
Seriously? Writer of Bullshit, more like. 
“I summon you, Alastor!” 
You hold your breath as the last echoes of your voice fade from the walls, waiting for something to happen. The candles continue to flicker gently, and you can hear the muted hubbub of voices from your neighbour’s TV upstairs. Your knees are starting to hurt from sitting on the floor. 
Sighing, you let the journal drop to the floor. It hasn’t worked. Of course.
Why did you think this was going to work? Summoning a demon of all things—
The candles ripple as if stirred by a breath, then their flames spike upwards, rigid. The light throws shadows across the walls, but the shadows don’t move in the right way. They sway back and forth, almost in a trance, as if the room is tilting side to side. 
The candle flames stretch up and up, thinning out into streamers. The golden glow dims, before blooming a bright, venal red. Your ears fill with the sound of static as the painted lines of the summoning circle begin to glow crimson. Smoke boils up from the centre into a plume of pulsing fog, backlit by the red light and twitching shadows. 
Something very old, buried and half-forgotten in your DNA screams at you to run, but you’re frozen to the spot, gaping as a figure takes form within the smoke. A tall, thin silhouette, long limbs distorted. Ice seeps into your gut.
The smoke clears, leaving an apparition, a demon, in your living room. It is not the monster you expected. No red skin, no black pits for eyes, no fire and brimstone… But whatever he is, he’s definitely not human. 
Stretching from floor to ceiling, he must be seven feet tall or more, with a thin, attenuated form and an inhumanly narrow waist. The demon is a vision in red, from his hair to his suit to his eyes, red on red, his pupils black slits in a sea of glowing crimson. 
It’s his smile that truly terrifies you, though. 
His teeth gleaming, the colour of aged ivory. Two rows of sharp, dagger-like points, ready to sink into flesh, designed to rend and tear. Whatever this creature is, death sustains him. 
Red hair, tipped in black, frames his face in a short bob, and tufts up at the top in what you think might be ears. Two small, black antlers jut from the top of his head. 
The static in  your ears crescendos like a wave crashing over your head, and the demon’s smile widens. He hums to himself, his voice a crackle, and looks around your meagre apartment. Finally, his gaze comes to rest back on you, the most interesting thing here.
“My, my,” he says, a strange, Transatlantic twang to his voice, “it’s been a while since someone summoned me. You really know how to set the mood, don’t you? Summoning circle, candles, and what’s this?” 
He leans down to pick up the plate of venison. Your blood has seeped into the meat by now, indistinguishable from the dead deer’s blood. The demon uses his gloved hand to pick up a morsel of the meat, his red eyes widening in pleasure, before popping it into his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre. 
“Delicious,” he praises. “Not a bit of fat on it, either. How did you know venison is my favourite?”
Before you can answer, his gaze lights upon the abandoned journal. He lets out a chuckle that’s half radio static. 
“Oh, that old thing. I should have known!” He slaps his knee in an over-the-top display of amusement. “You’re all so eager to throw yourselves into the Abyss! Humans, lemmings, what’s the difference?!”
The demon pretended to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye, before finally paying attention to you again. His grin cranked up a notch, practically splitting his face in half, and his hooded red eyes gleamed at you. 
“I haven’t introduced myself. How remiss of me. The name’s Alastor. A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”
The static in his voice fuzzed out, leaving behind a raspy baritone.
“Now, what can I do for you, darling?”
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Buddie: Eddie's 'Vertigo'
This makes me stand by my "Buddie Crack Theory" even harder than before.
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I've been posting for weeks about how off this season has been and the release of this poster leads me to believe my "Buddie Crack Theory" holds even more weight (for me at least) since TM the showrunner had to go to this extreme and post another late night cryptic message to Buddie Shippers. Please understand the GA doesn't follow social media in this manner to pick up his "Buddie clues" so he's doing this specifcally for those who 'ship Buddie.
ALSO, THERE'S NO MENTION OF BUCK’S CURRENT LI AND THAT'S F~CKING HILARIOUS! 🤪😜😁
BT bones incoming!
Now that I've had my LOL moment, I'll explain how I'm not going to get into the similarities between the original movie and TM's wacky depection of it since it's been done multiple times on 911blr, TikTok and other platforms. But I will say it's extremely suspicious that he's doing this now following everything that's happened since 7x7 aired.
Additionally, it's very interesting that he made a whole "movie" poster about this to help viewers understand what's in his mind🙄. He didn't do this for "Poseidon" or "Speed" or any of the other storylines he ripped off from blockbuster movies so there's that.
IMO, TM has been reading comments since Thursday (I think he's been doing it all season) about how much most veiwers f~cking hate this storyline for Eddie and he's trying to do something to corral Buddie shippers since a lot of them gave up on Buddie after the episode aired and they read the latest interviews.
If a storyline is this complicated then maybe TM should have reconsidered it. Based on the comments left on post mortem articles, not even the GA liked the cheating arc for Eddie so this is even more telling (something similar happened in season 5 with the introduction of Lucy D. after she kissed Buck in 5x11 and it's been speculated they cut her scenes in later episodes). Reminder, TM said it himself that he has to produce a show for everyone including the network executives and the GA not just Buddie shippers but he ships them too so... what's his motivation here? Apparently, he doesn't want Buddie shippers to give up but is he too late for those who already have? Possibly but only time will tell. Furthermore, IIRC, he's been wanting to include Devin K. back into the series since he killed off Shannon's character and now it appears he has his chance.
Finally, I'll say this... if you follow me you know that I've been posting since the season began that I believe Buck’s still in his coma dream. It's my "Buddie Crack Theory" and I haven't elaborated on it yet because I wanted to wait until the season progressed. But now I'm even more convinced it holds merit and I might elaborate on it with CANON proof now that TM has released this poster. Possibly later this week if I feel up to it.
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