#if you recognized her name inspiration you might notice

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 1

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

[sugawarassoulmate]

someone else tries to get with them

feat: bully!osamu, best friend!iwa, and rich bf!sakusa inspired by

part 2

cw: fem!reader

bully!osamu

you wanted to be anywhere but here right now, listening to this girl act as if she was your friend. you'd much rather be home, or at work, or at the library—quite literally anywhere but in front of this person you barely knew.

"i just think that osamu is a bit more extroverted and you might be too shy for him!" she said in a shrill, condescending voice. "he's always going to all these parties and i always see him talking to people...maybe he should date someone that's a more like him, you know?"

she must not know osamu all that well. he only goes to those parties because his brother or one of his friends drags him there and he spends the entire night blowing up your phone. as for talking to people, osamu can barely remember the name of his own lab partner, so it wouldn't surprise you if he got into meaningless conversations with people just to pass the time.

but on the surface, it looks as if one of the most popular guys on campus decided to date his weird, quiet childhood best friend and some people appeared to have a problem with that.

you tried to walk away from the conversation but the girl was persistent, not letting you leave until you vowed to leave osamu alone.

"don't you think it's selfish to stay with him when the two of you are so different?"

before you could respond—what you were going to say, you still had no idea—you were yanked into a solid figure, one you immediately recognized as your boyfriend already huffing in annoyance.

"been lookin' everywhere fer ya, jesus christ," he chastises, planting a quick kiss on the side of your head. "c'mon, let's go home—"

"samu! hiiii, i was actually just talking about y—"

osamu doesn't pay the girl any mind, rolling his eyes as he continues talking to you. "who the fuck is that? this is why i can't leave ya alone, babe. yer always talkin' to weirdos, let's go."

osamu pulls you away to talk about plans for dinner, leaving the strange girl dumbfounded by what she just witnessed.

best friend!iwa

"do you know if iwaizumi is seeing anyone?" the girl asked as she approached you on campus. it wasn't uncommon for random girls to come out of the woodwork to ask you about your best friend—he's a sweet, respectful, incredibly handsome man.

most of these girls figured that if they could get on your sweet side, they could get closer to their dream man. little did they know you were judging them every second they spoke to you.

when was the last time she even bothered washing her hair? or ew, her voice is annoying, haji would hate that. you let them get through their whole spiel, how they've liked iwa for ages but didn't know how to approach him and how they have a whole date planned, only for you to throw down the proverbial hammer.

"i'm sorry, haji isn't actually interested in dating anyone right now. he's really focused on his studies," you said confidently, watching the light in their eyes die.

"oh, but—"

"yeah, i would really give up if i were you," you shrugged, walking away before she could get another word in.

if anything, you were doing iwa a favor. there was no way he'd be interested in a girl like that. besides, if he got into a relationship now, he'd be too distracted to spend time with you.

"who were you talking you?" iwaizumi asks a bit later, noticing the weird interaction you had with a girl he didn't recognize.

"ugh, just another bimbo asking me about oikawa again," you lied so easily, throwing your legs over iwaizumi's lap as the two of you sat in the campus lounge. "you'd think they'd give it a break already."

iwaizumi doesn't question it. why would he? as far as he knew, you had nothing to gain by lying to him.

rich bf!sakusa

sakusa told you he had to take an important phone call and stepped away, leaving you in the shop. though, you weren't left alone for long. a few moments later you could hear incessant giggling behind you and after a while, you got the feeling it was about you.

turning around, you see a face that you're sure you've seen before but couldn't exactly place where. she must have known you, though, as she had no issue judging you with her eyes. "so kiyoomi does leave his little pet unattended. it's hard to recognize you when you're not in his shadow."

she was flanked on either side by one of her equally pompous, identical-looking friends, who both laughed at her cruel joke.

"excuse me?" fully turning around, you finally got a good look at the woman and realized that she was the daughter of a colleague that sakusa's father knew. you vaguely remembered your boyfriend complaining about having to entertain his father's guests during a boring gala a few weeks ago.

it wasn't uncommon for women to flaunt themselves at sakusa. he was the son of a prominent ceo, the heir to a successful company, and is absolutely breathtaking when he bothers to put his face mask down.

"it's just cute that kiyoomi still bothers to keep you around but he's always loved doing charity work." you weren't sure what was worse, her pathetic attempts to get a rise out of you or the shrill laughter of her air-headed friends. "our fathers are very close so don't be surprised when i'm the one on his arm whenever he gets tired of you."

"i'll be sure to remember that," you shrug your shoulders, turning your attention back to the rack of stupid clothes sakusa wanted you to try on. another day, another stupid business dinner with more spoiled brats of his father's stupid colleagues.

you tried to ignore the constant snicker, how they loudly wondered if you could even afford the clothes you were looking at—of course, you couldn't but sakusa loved to spoil you despite your attempts to dissuade him.

the teasing gets the better of you and you're about to snap back at them when the noises finally stop. you weren't sure when sakusa walked back into the store but he's by your side, staring daggers at the girl and her clique.

"and you shouldn't be surprised if my father never does business with yours again," he says curtly. his features soften the second he locks eyes with you. "here, babe. this gown will look perfect on you. go try it on for me."

the other girl tries to get a word in but she's stopped dead in her tracks by sakusa's harsh gaze returning to her. "you can go. i don't associate with trash."

the trio of mean girls drop the pieces they were looking at and scurry out of the store before they could embarrass themselves yet again. "do we still have to do this dumb business dinner?"

sakusa snorts, pushing you towards the dressing room. "of course, love, don't be foolish. you're going to be the most beautiful woman there.”

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[thatdammchickennugget]

Smoke Slow

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

warnings - fluff, mention of an argument, smoking

wordcount - 2.5k

a/n - I was looking through my concert videos from this year and it made me listen to Smoke Slow by Joshua Bassett again (still kinda obsessed with this song because he looked me in the eyes and touched my hand while singing it) and I couldn't stop thinking about Enzo while hearing it. So here's a little Enzo songic inspired by it :)

“She asks for a light As our secrets spill on the window sill We're buying more time While we kill ourselves as we both inhale”

Enzo was wondering what was taking Theo this long. The other boy had asked him to join him and then instantly left him, telling Enzo to wait and throwing his pack of cigarettes into his lap. Now Enzo was awkwardly sitting in the designated corner of the Ravenclaw common room where the smokers perched on the windowsills during parties, all by himself and trying to look like he belonged there.

Sure, he has had the one or other cigarette before, but he had never really understood what exactly it was that his friends found enjoyable about the little cancer sticks. He was not really a fan of the way they were carelessly polluting their lungs, but unfortunately, he was also an enabler. So, of course he had agreed to keep Theo company.

He was so focused on the crowd of students dancing and milling about the room, trying to find a familiar face to wave over and keep him company, that he did not notice the girl climbing on the windowsill next to him.

"Can I borrow a light?" Your soft voice startled him, as he turned his face to realise he had company. You were sitting facing the opposite direction, your legs dangling off the edge of the sill, a cigarette tucked behind your ear. You reached for it, taking in between your pointer and middle finger as you shot him a wry smile. "I left my wand in my jacket and I can't be bothered to get it right now."

The way the moonlight reflected in your eyes made his heart skip a beat. Noticing he had not actually responded to you yet, feeling like a creep sitting there and staring at you, he quickly nodded. His fingers hurried to open Theo's pack of cigarettes he was still holding, knowing his friend always kept a lighter in there.

Passing it to you, he used your moment of distraction while lighting your cigarette to take another look at you. Dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a sweater, you seemed a little out of place. Not that Enzo thought there was anything wrong with your choice of outfit, but the girls he usually talked to at parties loved to take every little opportunity to dress up.

His eyes wandered back to your face only to find you already looking back at him. "Keep staring and I might do a trick," you told him with a grin, taking a drag from your cigarette.

“Making believe there's a future Is it naive to think we could work? The second it's out, then I lose her We're already here, so one more won't hurt It won't hurt”

Enzo felt his face heat up at being caught, clearing his throat as he averted his gaze. "S-Sorry," he stuttered out, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the pack in his hands. "I was just trying to figure out if we've met before. I don't recognize you." 

He heard the awkwardness in his own voice and frowned. Why was he acting like this? Normally he had no problem talking to people, no matter who it was. But you had to be the most beautiful girl he had ever seen at Hogwarts. It was apparently throwing him off his game quite a bit.

You let out a small laugh, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. "It's okay," you said softly. "We haven't, at least not officially. You're a year above me so we don't share any classes. I would have been surprised if you knew my name."

"So, how do you know what year I'm in if we've never met?" Enzo adjusted slightly, drawing his legs up and turning to face you, Theo completely forgotten by now.

You let out a breath of smoke, watching the cloud dance out into the windy night. "Well, everybody knows who you are. Your group of friends has quite the reputation actually. Also, you're on the Quidditch team which means every person in this castle has heard your name before."

Enzo chuckled lightly, leaning his head back against the windowsill. "Okay then, I think if you already know who I am, I at least deserve to know your name?" he said, his signature charming smile spreading across his face.

You told him your name after blowing out another cloud of smoke, feeling slightly guilty about the flutter in your stomach when he repeated it. Your name sounded perfect coming out of his mouth and you could not help but hoping he would say it more in the future.

Enzo was about to ask you more questions about yourself, when he spotted Theo's tall frame break through the crowd. He caught his friend's eyes over the top of your head, trying to convey the silent message to make himself scarce and leave him alone with you. Theo's eyes slowly wandered from Enzo to your smaller frame, understanding crossing his face.

Enzo's face flushed again when Theo sent him a cheeky wink before turning to get himself a drink, leaving the two of you to talk.

“But all that we are is all that we'll ever be 'Cause he's the one waiting at home She holds my guitar as I pluck out a melody There's only so far we can go Next to you, but I'll never be close So take your time while you're mine And smoke slow”

Enzo scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of you at the next party. His heart skipped a beat when he spotted you, but his excitement turned to disappointment as he noticed you were with your boyfriend. 

He had done his homework throughout the week following the Saturday he had met you for the first time. By now, he knew what house you belonged in, who your friends were and that you could be found in the library as soon as you had free time to yourself. Unfortunately, he had also learned that you were in a relationship.

Enzo couldn't help but notice the lack of joy on your face, and a pang of concern tugged at his heart. He watched from a distance, observing the interaction between you and your boyfriend. Enzo couldn't shake the feeling that you deserved more happiness than what he saw in that moment.

He had been keeping an eye on you all week and was already confused about why you were with the guy. When the two of you were together, the look on your face dampened, the bright smile he had seen on that windowsill gone as if it never existed in the first place.

As the night went on, Enzo found himself unable to focus on anything else but you. He discreetly kept an eye on your interaction with your boyfriend, noticing the subtle signs of unhappiness as your boyfriend's grip on your hip tightened as he talked with his friends, you standing by as if you were merely there to observe.

“Breaking away For the hell of it Started innocent I'm telling you things that I've never said Hope I don't regret this”

Finally, an opportunity to talk to you presented itself when your boyfriend excused himself to go get a drink, you immediately starting to make your way to the smoking area. Enzo had been sitting on the same windowsill all night, sometimes joined by Theo or Mattheo who both made fun of him acting like a lovesick puppy over a girl he had spoken to once.

A bittersweet smile played on your lips as you spotted him there, almost as if he had been waiting for you. Enzo's heart swelled with hope, but he remained composed. Maybe you had been looking forward to seeing him as well? 

"I wasn't expecting to run into you again," you greeted, your hand resting on the stone window frame, your fingers tracing the smooth surface. "But I'm glad. Seems I don't have my wand on me once again."

He happily reached into his pocket, pulling out the lighter he had bought in Hogsmeade just that morning, hoping you would ask him for a light again. You thanked him with a smile, settling into the space beside him, cigarette held between your pointer and middle finger.

"Want one?" you offered him your pack. Even though he would not enjoy the scratch of smoke in his throat, he found himself accepting, taking back his lighter, skin tingling where your fingers brushed against his. If it meant you would stay here at the window with him for a while longer, he would smoke as long as you wanted him to. 

“Making believe that we're clueless One little spark that we won't put out Makin' a million excuses 'Cause isn't it fun just for now?”

Enzo's heart sank as he watched you and your boyfriend engaging in a heated argument at the party. He could see the pain etched across your face, and it was evident that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. 

From the look on your face, you had no idea what had set your boyfriend off in the first place and Enzo shared in your confusion. From where he was once again sitting at the windowsill, waiting for you to come over to have a smoke, it had looked as if everything was perfectly fine a moment ago.

You covered back from the guy as he got closer into your face, his words too quiet for Enzo to hear but he was jumping to his feet anyways. Before he was able to reach you, your boyfriend was gone already, leaving you behind in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room with tears in your eyes.

With empathy in his voice, Enzo approached you, gently asking, "Hey, would you like to get out of here?" His eyes conveyed his sincere concern, offering you an escape from the prying eyes and judgmental stares of the other partygoers.

You looked up at him, your tear-stained cheeks reflecting the soft glow of the party lights. Grateful for his offer and more than ready to get away from all the stares, you nodded. Enzo extended his hand, a silent but much appreciated gesture.

As you took his hand, a sense of relief washed over you. The two of you moved away from the party, leaving behind the noise and chaos, as he led you through the silent castle hallways and out into the courtyard.

Finding a quiet bench nestled beneath a tree, Enzo sat down beside you, creating a safe space for you to gather your thoughts. He didn't pry or ask any questions, instead offering a comforting presence as you allowed yourself to finally release the tears that had been building up inside.

“But all that we are is all that we'll ever be 'Cause he's the one waiting at home She holds my guitar as I pluck out a melody There's only so far we can go Next to you, but I'll never be close So take your time while you're mine And smoke slow”

Enzo's gentle understanding and compassionate nature provided you with the support you desperately needed in that moment. With him by your side, the weight of the argument and the judgement of others seemed to lift, leaving only a sense of solace and understanding.

Sitting outside, the gentle breeze caressed your face as Enzo began to tell you about how Draco fell down the stairs earlier that day, the image of Malfoy falling on his face finally bringing back the smile on your face. Enzo's witty storytelling skills effortlessly lifted your mood, making you forget your troubles for a moment and allowing laughter to fill the air.

By the time the tears on your cheeks had dried, Enzo's curiosity got the better of him and he asked about the argument he had just witnessed. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him as you spoke. "I just asked him to dance. He didn't want to, so I said I would go back to my dorm then and that I don't understand why he always drags me to these parties if he's just going to ignore me the whole time."

"That's why he was screaming at you?" Enzo asked, surprised. By the look this guy had on his face, he had assumed something seriously bad had happened. "Because you wanted to dance with him?"

"Well, he called me childish and embarrassing. But I just wanted him to pay some attention to me. But it doesn’t matter, he just broke up with me anyways."

Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Enzo quickly got to his feet. "He's a dickhead and he doesn't deserve you. If you were my girlfriend my attention would never not be on you."

This time it was your face that turned red when he offered you his hand again. "Still up to have that dance?" he asked.

“Addicted to illusions of a love that never was And never will be anyway, ooh And nicotine don't taste the same If I'm not with you, savoring every breath we take Play with fire, take me higher”

At first, you hesitated. "There's no music, Enzo," you told him, letting out a small laugh. 

But you stood up anyways, taking his hand in your own. He led you a couple steps away from the bench, gently placing his other hand on your waist. In the absence of music, he whispered lighthearted melodies, creating an imaginary rhythm that only you both could hear. With each step, the weight of the hurtful words lifted, replaced by a fluttering warmth in your stomach.

You twirled and spun, lost in the moment, as Enzo's infectious laughter filled the air. The world around you blurred, leaving only the warm shine of the moonlight and the sound of your laughter intermingling with Enzo's. 

As the dance came to an end, you found yourself smiling genuinely, feeling lighter and more uplifted than you had in a long time. A comfortable silence fell over you as he stopped humming, his bright eyes meeting your own as you looked up at his face.

Slowly, his face leaned closer to yours, not breaching the space entirely yet. He was leaving the decision to you, afraid of reading this wrong and pushing too far. With his thumb tracing patterns into the skin of your waist, you made up your mind, breaking through the little space left between you and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“All that we are is all that we'll ever be 'Cause he's the one waiting at home She holds my guitar as I pluck out a melody There's only so far we can go Next to you, but I'll never be close So take your time while you're mine And smoke slow”

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[morgana-larkin]

Ok so I had an idea, it might be stupid but here’s the summary: one of Melissa’s first students became a teacher and got a job at Abbott as a first grade teacher. Melissa becomes interested in her right away.

On another note: dudes, I’ve noticed I don’t get as much notice on my Chessy fics and I’m not understanding, she the original gay icon from Lisa Ann Walter. Also almost no notice on my Marilyn Thornhill x reader fic. I’ll be doing worth it then a sexy Mel firefighter prompt😉

Playing Favourite

Warnings: smut, Mel being a tease

Words: 2.9k

You walk into the doors of Abbott Elementary and you stop to take a look. Been awhile since you last step foot in here, last time was when you were graduating grade 8, about 10 years ago. You’ve gone from graduating from Abbott to teaching there, full circle as they say.

You got your teaching badge and classroom key and then you head to the staff lounge. You open the door with a smile and look around in amazement. You never saw this room, the one place students couldn’t enter. You look and see a few teachers staring at you confused. You just walk in and go to the fridge to put your lunch in and you freeze.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” You say and she looks at you even more confused.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Oh sorry, I guess I look a bit different. My name is y/n y/l/n. You might not remember me actually, I was in your class when you first started working here.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Of course, I remember you now. What are you doing here?” She asks.

You showed her your teaching badge. “I work here now.” You tell her proudly and walk over to her. “You actually inspired me to become a teacher. I just saw the way you loved teaching and I thought it’d be great to love your job so much and I always loved helping people out.” You tell her. “Ms Howard, you’re both still here. I don’t recognize anyone else here.”

“They all left dear.” Barb tells you. “And you’re a fellow teacher here now. Call me Barb.” She tells you.

“Barb…wow, that felt weird.” You say with a chuckle and she smiles at you. You then go and put your lunch in the fridge and then make a coffee. “Anyone else want one, I’m making a new pot.” You ask the room. Melissa gets up and stands next to you with her coffee mug.

“I’ll take one hon.” She tells you and you smile at her. “I’m proud of you, I knew you’d make a great teacher.” She tells you while you put coffee in her mug.

“Really?” You ask her and stare at her with wide eyes and she nods. “You might not have known but you were my favourite teacher.” You tell her and she rubs your shoulder.

“Thank you, it makes me happy to hear that.” She tells you and goes to sit down. When you’re done making your coffee, you get invited to sit with the trio and they all introduce themselves when you do.

“So y/n, what was Melissa like when she taught you?” Janine asks you.

“Well… she was always caring of all her students. And every year I was here, I saw that never changed.” You tell them and then go on and recall more moments that you remember from second grade and Melissa.

When it was close to 8am, you all make your way to the gym for the welcome back presentation. You walk in and see Barb and Melissa going to sit down somewhere and the trio going to get good seats near the front. The trio invited you to sit with them but you saw Melissa and Barb sitting in one of the middle rows and you make your way over there. You go in from the other side and walk over and sit down beside Melissa and she looks up from her phone to look at you.

“Hope it’s alright that I sit beside you.” you tell her and she smiles.

“Of course not hon.” She says and takes a candy from her bag, unwraps it and plops it in her mouth.

“I knew you had a candy stash.” You tell her and she looks over at you confused. “Whenever one of us was crying, you always gave a piece of candy to make them feel better along with a small pep talk.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Want one?” She asks and hands you a piece of candy. You take the candy with a smile.

“Sure, thank you Ms Schemmenti.” You say and she rolls her eyes as you pop the candy in your mouth.

“Hon, I’m not your teacher anymore, I’m your co worker, you can call me by my first name.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “Do you not know what my first name is?” She asks you and you shake your head. “It’s Melissa.”

“Melissa… that sounds weird.” You say and she tilts her head at you and you mentally facepalm. “Not that your name is weird. Just that I’m used to knowing you as Ms Schemmenti.” You rush out and she chuckles.

“I get it. When you’re used to something a certain way then it’s weird when it changes.” She tells you.

The presentation starts and you see that Melissa and Barb aren’t really paying attention. Barb is mostly focused on crossword puzzles, and Melissa on eating candy and her phone. She does keep offering you some during the 2 hour presentation, to which you always accept.

When Ava was showing selfies of her summer vacation, Melissa leaned over to you. “So where’s your classroom?” She asks you.

You look at your papers and see. “Ummm…” You look and she grabs one of the papers and sees.

“Oh, you’re right next to mine.” She tells you. “You’re a first grade teacher?” She says and you nod.

“You know we end up doing some things with the first graders during the year. I don’t know if you remember.” She tells you and you think about it.

“I remember doing some project with a bunny…or was it a rabbit.” You say and she grins.

“Peter rabbit.” She says and you smile and nod. “I still do that project.” She tells you and you smile.

“Really? Oh I would love to collaborate on that if you want. It’s a cute story.” You say while looking at what Ava is saying and she blushes.

A few hours later you’re decorating your classroom when you hear a few curses from next door. You walk over and knock on the door. A few seconds later Melissa opens the door and smiles when she sees it’s you.

“Everything alright in here? I heard, what I think is cursing.” You tell her and she sighs and nods.

“Ya, just having some trouble hanging something up. It’s a bit wide and everytime I go to hang up one side, the other one comes off cause it can’t support the weight.” She tells you.

“Do you need some help?” You offer and she smiles.

“If you don’t mind then I would appreciate it.” She says and she lets you in.

“Wow.” You say as you walk in her classroom. “It’s changed but still some things are the same.” You say as you look around the room.

“Was I really your favourite teacher? I mean you aren’t just saying that?” She asks and you look at her.

“Ya of course. I don’t really remember my other teachers that much, but I remember you. I sorta remember Barb but you don’t see me telling her that she was my favourite.” You joke a bit and she laughs.

“Well you could have without me knowing.” She tells you and you chuckle. You go over to one side of the poster that she needs help with and pin it up and then hold it while she pins the other side. “Well thanks for the help, I can’t wait to see you with the students. And it’s been great seeing you again.” She says to you and you smile.

“You as well.” You tell her and then go back to your classroom.

*2 months later*

Melissa opens her door and sees you there with a bag and a frustrated expression on your face. “Hey y/n.” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I need your help with my Halloween costume.” You say, straight to the point and she giggles.

“Alright come on in.” She says and steps aside to let you in her house. “Who are you going as?” She asks.

You and Melissa have gotten closer over the past 2 months. She didn’t give you the cold shoulder even though you’re new since you were one of her first students. She’s gotten to know who you are and the both of you have been slowly falling for each other. Neither of you will admit it though since you’re both stubborn and don’t want to possibly ruin the friendship.

“Ok well you know how you said you’re going as Penelope Featherington?” You start and she nods her head. “Well I thought I’d go as Eloise Bridgerton.” You tell her and she laughs.

“And what exactly are you having trouble with?” She asks you sigh.

“I can’t figure out how to put on the clothes.” You tell her with a pout. She giggles as your pout and walks up to you.

“Alright, well we can both get ready and help each other out.” She tells you and you smile.

You both get your costumes ready and laid out. You begin to put the corset on and she comes to tie it up. She sees all your skin on display and since you’re standing in front of the mirror, she sees a good amount of cleavage as well. She loops the string in the last few holes before beginning to tighten it.

“Is that too tight?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, that’s perfect.” You tell her and she ties it together. She then helps you put the dress on and accidentally brushes one of your breasts and you gasp.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s- it’s ok, just surprised me is all.” You rush out.

You then help her with her corset. You both really should have accounted for her chest, as when tightening it, one of them slips out and you both freeze. You stare at it through the mirror and your brain stops working. She tucks it back in and you’re still staring at where it was and your cheeks are redder than her hair. She sees your reaction and she turns around to face you.

“Did you like what you saw?” She asks, with a bit of a teasing tone and you nod.

“It looked perfect.” You breathe out and she can see your breathing has gotten heavy. She takes a step towards you and she’s right in front of you, it wouldn't take much to lean forward and kiss her.

“Y/n, are you attracted to me?” She asks cautiously. You widen your eyes and you don’t know what to say. All you have the brain function to do is nod. “Well that’s perfect because I’m attracted to you too.” She tells you with a smile.

“Really?” You say in disbelief and she nods.

“Ya, and I just want to say that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a couple weeks now.” She tells you and you lean forward a bit and she closes the gap. She puts a hand on the back of your head and you put one on her cheek. You both pull back after a few seconds and you stare at each other before going right back and make out. She walks forward a bit while still kissing you and your back hits a wall. She puts both her hands on the wall, one beside your head and the other beside your waist. You have both your arms wrapped around her neck to keep her where she is and open your mouth a bit to let her tongue slip in.

At one point she puts her hand on your waist and gives it a small squeeze and you moan. You pull back when you need to breath and look at her as you try and bring oxygen back to your brain.

“Do you kiss all your former students?” You tease and she smiles.

“Can’t say I have, you’re the only one.” She tells you. “Do you kiss all your former teachers?” She teases back.

“Only my favourite teacher.” You say and she lunges forward to capture your lips again. She moves her hands downward near your ass and cups it when she gets there. She then gets you to hop up and wrap your legs around her and you do just that. She then pins you against the wall harder and goes for your neck.

She then gets some of her control back and she pulls back to look at you. “Do you want to continue with this or do you want to stop here? Cause I’ll tell you right now that if we continue then I’ll want to go all the way.” She tells you bluntly.

“Then let’s go all the way.” You tell her and she carries you to her bedroom and lays you on the bed and continues kissing you. You then get an idea when she goes back to kissing your neck. You get her to pull back and look at her. “I know you said to call you Melissa, but right now I just want to call you Ms Schemmenti.” You tell her and she smiles and shakes her head.

“Oh, do you want to be disciplined then?” She asks, playing along.

“Perhaps.” You say.

“I mean you have been bad. Having dirty thoughts about your teacher, showing up in sexy clothes to get her attention.” She tells you and blush. “Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed your wardrobe change in the past few weeks.” She tells you.

“So it worked then.” You say proudly.

“Oh, it definitely worked.” She says and kisses you again. She then reaches under your dress and pulls your underwear down and throws it somewhere. She then goes under your dress and connects her mouth with your pussy.

You feel her tongue on you and you gasp. You can’t see her, all you do is feel her and she definitely knows how to please a woman with her tongue. You grab the headboard behind you and you buck your hips. She then moves her mouth to your clit and you moan and buck your hips again. She then slips a finger in and you gasp out. She pops her head out from under your dress and looks at you with wet lips.

“How should I discipline you?” She asks you and you just whine as she’s still fingering you. She adds another finger and your eyes are shut closed. She expertly takes her underwear off and goes in her nightstand to get her strap on. She somehow is able to put it on with one hand and then she pulls out of you, much to your reluctance. She pulls your dress off and then she pulls one of your breasts out of the corset top and wraps her mouth around the nipple. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks at you. “I’m going to get in a sitting position and you're going to settle yourself on my strap and ride it.” She tells you and you look down and realise that she put a strap on and you nod.

She goes to sit and you climb on her lap and then slowly go down on the strap, taking the whole thing in you. You then start to go back and forth on it, riding the strap and wrap your arms around her neck and look at her. She grabs your hips and helps you ride her and she feels it rubbing her clit.

“Yes, ride my strap, take your discipline like a good girl.” She tells you and you moan.

“Yes Ms Schemmenti, I’ll be good.” You tell her and she groans. She slips a finger down to your clit and applies pressure and you gasp out and pull her body closer to you. She pulls you in and kisses you and you feel yourself close to coming. “Omg, I’m so close Miss.” You gasp out and she moans.

“I’m close as well, go on baby, come with me.” She says and seconds later you come and she comes right after you. You stop riding her strap and you get off of her. She holds you to her and you’re both trying to catch your breath. While doing that, you hear a knock at the door and you look at the time and realise it’s probably some of the early trick or treaters. “Ignore them, I’m more interested in this treat.” She says and points to you and you giggle.

“I do have to get ready though. I have a Halloween party to get too.” You say to her and go to get up.

“Nooo, but I want you here and don’t want to let you go.” Melissa says to you as she holds you tight and you giggle.

“Well how about you come with me, and then I can come back here with you.” You suggested and she smiled as she accepted your offer.

“Ok deal.” She tells you and then the two of you get ready and go to the party.

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Suffer Pt. 6 | Lucifer x Reader

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

A single anon request and a 56-page Google doc later, this is the last part, my friends. Thanks to everyone who's been so invested in this, this turned into a bigger project than I thought it would lol But! I'm so glad everyone's been enjoying it, and I hope y'all like the ending! I'm sorry for all the cliffhangers along the way haha (not really)

An extra thank you to the anon who requested a simple babysitter fic and ended up inspiring this whole deal!

♡♡♡

It’s almost been a year since you arrived to the hotel. You arrived when the building was in less than pristine condition, and just a few new guests had arrived. It was a few days after you saw Charlie’s interview on the news, that being what brought you in, despite it’s failure. You were just happy to see her face after all that time. Yet, above the cluttered space and the holes in the walls, there was a more malevolent scheme being hatched.

Any soul who might pass the princess’s room would be bombarded by curses, screams, and growls that sounded less than human. So, most the hotel residents decide it best to avoid that corridor. But not our trusty hotelier. His hand reached for the handle, after deciding that making a bold entrance might not be the best idea. His motion was put to a quick halt by a flurry of curses coming from the other side of the door. Alastor didn’t realize Charlie held such a..colorful vocabulary. Despite that, he went on.

He was greeted with a sight that, unfortunately, wasn’t new to him. An intricate web of red thread connected to pins, all scattered across a once pristine wall. It all connects a collage of images, some that he recognized, some that looked like nonsensical scribbles. The view is obstructed by a furiously pacing princess of Hell. Mumbling completely incoherent complaints, she doesn't notice the opening and closing of her bedroom door.

Alastor, being the sadist he is, props his stance with his microphone, his forced smile unmoving. He enjoys the view for a moment before finally clearing his throat to bring her attention to him. She nearly stumbles over her own feet, ready to scold him for materializing into her room, despite the fact that she was just too out of it to see him walk straight in.

“Al! Good! I need another pair of eyes, come here, come here, look!” She approaches him faster than he expects, and he’s ready to reel away, but is unfortunately hooked around the neck with Charlie’s disturbing strength. With an arm around his shoulders, she drags him forward to examine the wall, as if it made sense to anyone other than her. She starts talking nonsense, again. Something about friendship and Heaven, things he never really cared about. Things he usually tuned out whenever they came up. He only seems to partake in the conversation once he heard your name.

“Alastor.. She’s one of our first guests. I honestly can’t believe anyone showed up after that terrible interview I had earlier, I’m worried i’ll mess things up, again! I mean, all of Hell already thinks i’m a joke.. I just- really need this to go well.” Her mood seems to calm, but to a state of despair. Alastor let’s out a symphahetic awe, patting the top of her head.

“Aw, our poor princess. I understand your concern, my dear, this hotel must mean quite a lot to you.” He faines a sympathy that only convinces Charlie because of her state of disarray.

“Of course it does! And she’s already so kind, I’m sure she’s close to redemption! Maybe this will be a quick one! A-and we don’t even know it, right? That has to be it!” She seems to be reassuring herself, only to be met with an unresponsive radio demon. She groans. Dragging her feet as she walks to the edge of bed, She sits down and lets her head fall into her hands. 

“I really need this to work. I’ll do anything for this to work..” It was a quiet mumble, muffled into her palms, but Alastor heard exactly what he wanted to hear. His grin twisted, something Charlie didn’t see, as he sits at her side. He gives her a quick pat to her back, in some form of comfort.

“Charlie, dear, I understand how much this little project means to you.. I do. And I want nothing more than to witness you trying as hard as you can to keep it up.” Even if it fails. Charlie looks up to him, the bags under her eyes suddenly very apparent. “How would you feel about a little deal? Just a small one, no souls on the line, I guarantee.” 

She’s been warned by Vaggie in the past. Actually, his entire reputation is enough to make her uneasy by the idea. but… 

“I-I don’t know. What did you have in mind..?” She asks reluctantly. He let’s out a chuckle that almost sounds sinister.

“Believe it or not, our little guest and I have a bit of a history.” You can barely call it a history. You served him and Rosie on occasion when you were working in cannibal town. “I’d be delighted to oversee her safety and process to redemption! It’s just as you said, she’s already a gem, Heaven is waiting for her, I can feel it. This will be a breeze for the both of us.” His offer comes off as sincere and touching to Charlie. It wasn’t like him to openly mention his relationships with other demons yet, the idea of you having a close friend throughout this process might just be what you’re missing.

“That’s so sweet of you, Alastor, but.. What do you want from me?” She has to ponder a moment before even considering letting this go on any further.

“Well, you’ve given me a roof over my head and.. A tower for my broadcasts.. Hmm..” He taps his chin, as if he’s in thought. “I’m not quite sure I’ll need from you at the moment, since you’ve just been so hospitable already.” He places a hand to her shoulder, the kind words causing her eyes to well with tears a bit in her weakened state.

“There has to be something.. Well, maybe we can both think this over, once I have a clear head.” She sighs her words, standing from the bedside. Alastor takes her hand and brings her to a halt.

“Oh, but I’d love to get to work as soon as possible, if I may be so bold.. I’m not quite sure what you could offer me in this moment… How about we work out the details, later?” He speaks as if he’s coming up with these words on the spot. He’s had this planned since day one, though. Any chance to get a favor from the princess, he’ll take. Charlie turns to him and sees the strange green glow surrounding their hands. She attempts to pull away, but his grasp is tight.

“Well.. I mean…” She’s still hesitant. He watches her rub her eyes. The still relevant exhaustion gives him a bit of hope.

“It’s simple. I’ll do everything in my power to keep our little guest comfortable and on the path to redemption, no acception. In return, I’ll ask of you one single favor when the time comes.” The glow only continues to swell with his words, and it's clearly making her reconsider. “It’s not as serious as you may think, Charlie. Just a favor between friends, really.” Friendship seemed to strike the right tone.

“I guess.. If it’s for the hotel… Okay, Alastor. It’s a deal.”

-

Back to the dreaded fight just a few months later. You're seeing red.

“Charlie! You made a deal with Alastor?? What were you thinking?” You’re scolding her at this point. The situation barely had time to cool down before your worries began to kick in. Her horns and ruby eyes are still present, she hasn’t even had time to calm herself from the previous display. Lucifer is essentially holding you back, a hand across your front as you try to approach her. It hurts you a bit. Does he think you’re some kind of danger to her?

..Are you putting her in danger?

Alastor is still propped on the ground. He holds a hand around his neck, in hopes of soothing the aggressive collar that had materialized around it just moments ago. You’re all keeping your distance from eachother.

“I-I wasn’t! I wasn’t thinking! It was after the interview! You saw it, you know didn’t go well! I-I had all of Hell laughing at me, laughing at the hotel- He was offering help, I have no idea why he’s acting this way, I swear..! I.. I-” Charlie’s demonic features start to recede when she feels a hand on her back. With heavy breaths, she looks over to Lucifer, who was standing by her side now, ready to comfort her. With a small hiccup, she falls into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly as she did. Her head fell to his shoulder, thoroughly staining his vest with her tears.

The room is uncomfortably filled with her silent sobs. Your heart aches too much looking at the touching display between father and daughter, and your guilt from snapping at her is making you fidget. That’s when you got to thinking.

The deal was for Alastor watch over you until you got to Heaven. For him to do anything in his power to keep you on the path to redemption. To prevent any behavior that might stunt that process..

“Oh.. oh, my god. You’ve been buttering me up this whole time.” You turn to face a still recovering Alastor. The realization grabs the attention of both Morningstars, they raise their heads to look towards the commotion. “The gifts, all the time we spent together.. Was because of this deal? Did.. did you ever actually care about me?” You grip at your heart, ready to rip it straight from your chest. He stands, brushing debris from his entirety.

“I doubt you’ll believe me after such a display of violence, but.. Yes. I did enjoy our time together, despite the requisite of being under my protection. It was quite entertaining before it was… tainted.” His hisses out his final words, contrasting the sweetness of it all. Tainted?

He was kind to you as soon as you arrived in the hotel. Despite the drama, you’ve been inseparable since. Things only got convoluted after.. 

“Under your protection..? Is that why you’ve been turning me away from Lucifer?! Fuck- it is! You’ve been playing games with me for months! Getting in my head..! H-How could you..” He hasn’t just been physically keeping the two of you apart. From day one, your mind was manipulated into thinking Lucifer never wanted you.

“Well.. not to defend myself, dear, but I was merely considering your redemption. I believe there’s some sort of sin in worshipping the Devil.” Oh, now he’s just trying to make more trouble.

“Oh, fuck you Al, I don’t worship him, I love him!” Your comical response seems to drive a shocked expression or two towards you. But you’re too upset to elaborate. You want to tear him apart. You want to see him experience as much pain as you’re feeling now. Luckily, you weren’t the only one. In a blur of a movement, Alastor was brought back to the ground with a thud.

A foot to his chest, Charlie has him pinned to the ground. Her fists are clenched, the aura surrounding her creates a suffocating heat.

“You took advantage of me, Alastor. You betrayed my friends, my family.. My trust.” Despite the demonic tones underlying her voice, it still sounds pained. You didn’t know she could do this, but her clenched fists become encased in fire. Just like her fathers’.

You’re surprised to see him lurking behind, but not attacking. After all you’ve seen, you were sure he’d have ripped Alastor’s head off at this point. His eyes widen, a display of fear you werent expecting. You follow his gaze to see Charlie holding a familiar angelic spear to his neck.

You hear an unearthly growl come from her chest, and before you can think, your arm is wrapped around hers. You can feel the resistance, realizing you had stopped her right as she was about to put an end to it all. Put an end to him.

“Charlie! Stop!” You yell out. You have to do it once or twice more, your words not quite reaching her yet. Once she turns to you, her eyes are still dripping with tears. “Charlie, don’t. This isn’t you. You’ll regret it, I know you will.. I know you.” You’re begging her to stop. As you feel the muscles in her arm start to relax, you reach for the spear and pull it gently from her hands. She releases her grasp without a fight.

You usher her off, glancing back to Alastor for a moment to see his wound had reopened from that. He had an obvious slash across his neck. You gulped, realizing how close she was to actually killing him. She places her hand over yours, where your arms are still linked.

Charlie let’s out a sigh, looking to her shaking hands, then clenching her fists. She looks to you, then back to Alastor.

“But.. everything he’s done to you… It’s not right, I’m not sure I can forgive him..” She’s speaking quietly to you.

“Well.. You don’t have to forgive him. But he doesn't deserve to die, Charlie.” You state the obvious and it makes her flinch. “And.. you should let him stay.” You hear a collective What? from the room.

“I know I know.. but… this whole place is about second chances. I.. think he can change. And even though, he is being such a dick right now-” Your voice is cracking, as if you can hardly believe your own words. “-I still believe it. You taught me that.” You smile up to Charlie. After a moment you turn your head to Lucifer, meeting his eyes. He looks more in shock than anyone, almost hurt by your act of mercy. You’re surprised by his expression, not realizing Charlie had slipped from your side to approach Alastor.

“She’s right, you know. I can’t forgive you, Alastor. Not yet, at least.. But you’re welcome to stay here, considering all the help you’ve done for the hotel.” She sounds stern, still not entirely convinced this is the right call.

“Yeah, some help you’ve been, you prick..” Those are the first words Lucifer has muttered in awhile. You approach his side to jab him with your elbow and shush him. Despite your scolding action, your presence only reminds him of your previous confession. He crosses his arms and continues to curse quietly, despite his flushed cheeks. Charlie steps closer to Alastor.

“You’re still here, because of her.” Charlie’s voice goes dark as she gestures to you. “That favor I owe you? Is letting you live. This deal is done, Alastor.” She hisses her words out. The intensity and anger radiating from two of the most powerful creatures in Hell is enough to leave even Alastor a bit weary. He nods, still gripping his wound that has been repeatedly opened these past few days. Other than that, he slinks away with barely a scratch. Lucky him. 

Once he’s out of sight, Charlie let’s out a groan and falls to her knees. With a unison call of her name both you and Lucifer rush to her side. You place a hand on her back, attempting to keep any displaced hair from her face. She leans into Lucifer’s chest, a heartaching sight of sniffles and apologies.

Before long, she seemed to exhaust herself. Curled up to his chest, Lucifer smiles, despite the circumstances of their closeness. He lifts his eyes just slightly to see yours. You look embarrassed. Before he has a chance to question you, you rise from the ground.

“You should take her to bed.” You say in a hushed tone, gripping your arms and making some distance. “She needs some rest after.. all that.”

“Sure, but.. are you-” He speaks just as softly, opening a portal behind him silently.

“I’m fine. I’m-” You let out a sigh, beginning to move towards the stairs. “She needs to rest, Lucifer.” You remind him.

“Oh- Oh.. Right, yeah.” He rises to his feet, effortlessly lifting Charlie into his arms and stepping through the portal. You try to keep moving. You try to not meet his eyes as the portal shuts, but you find yourself unable to go on. Once they’re gone, you cover your mouth, only making your labored breaths worse, but you’re desperate to muffle any cries. You feel yourself wobble in place, before seeing a portal open to your side. It leads to your room.

After stepping through, you silently approach your bed. Your legs suddenly turn led, and you're hitting your bed with a gasp. Your exhaustion is enough to keep your sobs to a minimum at least.

-

The feeling you have when you wake up is worse than any hangover you’ve had. With alcohol you can at least forget your troubles. But on this morning, you can vividly remember the previous night. You sit up, your body aching. You only wonder why for a moment, before realizing you had fallen asleep sideways across your bed, your legs still dangling off the side. You still need sleep.

You remove any uncomfortable clothing or accessories that had pressed marks into your body and return to bed. The right way, this time. Your pillows feel like heaven after all that’s happened. Heaven..

You try your best to sleep, you really do. Your body is essentially begging you to empty your thoughts just for a few more minutes. But your mind is sending you tossing and turning, any times you close your eyes, all you can imagine is everything you've done wrong. Your eyes drift open after trying to force them shut, and your eyes spot the radio on your nightstand. You sit silently for a moment, maybe try to close your eyes again..

Nope.

Before you have a chance to process every movement, you’re opening your door and thoughtlessly throwing the radio outside. You don’t care where it ends up, clearly. You were waiting to hear it break, into multiple pieces hopefully, before shutting your door. You’re met with a startled groan instead. Taking a moment to process that you had thrown an old-timey radio at someone, you stand at your door with a yawn.

The panic hits you. It could’ve been Alastor, assuming he stayed. It could’ve been Charlie, who doesn’t need any more conflict. You could’ve taken out Niffty as far as you know. Swinging the door open, your eyes see the radio first. They’re wrapped in your victim’s arms.

“Good catch.” You let out hoarsly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to clearly see Lucifer.. It could've been worse. He let’s out a breathless thanks, clearly having the air knocked out of him. You definitely didn’t hold back with that throw. And it wasn’t exactly a lightweight radio.

“Er.. Sorry. I meant to say sorry.” You try to recover, your words are followed by another yawn. You watch him drop the radio into a small portal he conjured below his grip.

“Good morning to you, too. I was, uh.. about to check on charlie, but-” He’s ready for a conversation that you aren’t. You quickly shake your head, pulling your door in.

“Nono, I need some time.. To wake up. I’ll see you around, though.” You didn’t expect him to perk up from his words, but he does. His smile is infectious. You watch him give you a little wave before shutting your door. You lean against it, your smile that you had been presenting to him, leaves you almost immediately.

There’s so much on your mind. You scan your room, memories of Alastor popping up no matter where you looked. Every chat you’ve had in here, every moment you’d call him in for advice for clothes or accessories, all the nights you’d fall asleep listening to his voice. Your eyes stopped at your vanity seat. Draped across the back is a bittersweet sight, your gifted red sweater. You finally rise to your feet, quickly reaching for it and holding it tightly in your hands. You hesitate before bringing it to your nose. You’re not sure why. Why would you want to remind yourself of anything involving him? Did you think that same scent that’s brought you comfort so many times would have the same affect? You give it a shot.

Hesitantly breathing in, you’re immediately reeling back, throwing the sweater down to your ground. Your hand covers your nose, that sickenlingly sweet honey scent now smells like rotten flesh. Like road kill. You need some air. Digging out a different sweater, one you haven’t had to use in months, you decide you just need to walk around for a bit. The hotel was big enough that you could safely avoid any unwanted attention. Plus, you were sure Alastor’s pride was too wounded to freely roam the hotel. And his other wound.. You hope he’s okay.

You groan out loud, mentally cursing yourself for your sympathetic thoughts. You make your way down to the lobby, and are met with a surprisingly clean lounge. You scan the walls that were previously cracked, the carpets that should be stained with blood, then wonder where Vaggie’s suddenly conjured spear might have gone. What would have possessed Charlie to choose such a weapon.. an angelic spear? She didnt really want him dead, did she? She's emotional. And extreme. Like her father. You decide not to question it any further. It’s not like you were upset by the erasure of the previous night's events.

-

A day or two passed. Your mind seemed unwilling to accept the reality you're currently in. You're anxious, and paranoid to any sentence thrown your way. You're constantly looking around corners, checking all parts if your room before locking it for the night. Yet, if someone were to ask what was making you so nervous, you wouldn’t have an answer.

You found yourself taking those little strolls often, though. Keeping your body in motion, with only the sounds of your breathing keeping you company, seemed to clear your mind. It never helped come to terms with any seething pain you felt, but it cleared your mind at the least.

You'd pieced together a few things in the meantime. After passing the bar, where Angel and Husk were chatting, they would smile and wave, ask you join them form a drink, but you’d decline. Neither of them seemed to know about anything. Maybe Niffty cleaned the mess. Maybe Alastor asked her to. Before anyone could see the outcome of his mistakes.

You passed Vaggie in a hall, and she immediately looked concerned. She opened her mouth, an Are you okay? sits on the tip of her tongue. But then she looked at you. Your body only mirrored the fog of your mind, baggy eyed and wrapped in some blanket as you roamed the halls like a damned ghost.

“Hey, um- it's.. it's gonna be-" you held your hand up to her.

“I know. Thank you.” You smile, the action stiff, considering you hadn't used those muscles in awhile. Vaggie knew. That was fair, though. You were glad Charlie had someone to confide with. You walked on after she gave a hesitant goodbye wave.

One night, when your body had taken over and you were wandering aimlessly, you realized where you ended up. Not only were you standing in front of Lucifer's workshop, he had already spotted you through the window on the door. He opened it before you could fully take in your surroundings.

“Hey..” You let out softly. What else are you supposed to say? You didn’t come prepared. You feel embarrassed standing in front of him, realizing how much of a mess you must look. You're not even sure what part of your mind made you end up here.

He doesn't respond at first, another speechless moment letting your mind wander. He opens the door more, offering his space to you. You look at him and he smiles before you shuffle inside. You take in the sight. You haven't actually seen it, considering your circumstances after the hotel was renovated.

“It looks nice in here.” You say quietly, your voice cracking just a bit. You walk through, tracing your fingers along desks and tables, stopping and looking at family photos on occasion. You looked to Lucifer’s smiling face in a picture where he was lovingly holding his wife and daughter. How did you end up like this?

“Oh- um.. thank you, it's more than enough space for me, but, uh.. it's nice.” His voice sounds unfamiliar as it snaps you from your mindset. He moves to his main bench, which is slightly elevated by a platform that connects to the windowed wall. You eventually make your way around, standing near him.

“Are.. you… How are you..?” You listen to him struggle to form such a simple question, and yet you have an equally hard time trying to respond. Obviously, you were crushed. devastated by the betrayal and overwhelmed by everything else.

“I'm okay.” You reply thoughtlessly. It was your go-to answer. You hear a muffled chuckle and look over to him. He's blocking the laughter with his fist in front of his lips. Is he laughing at you?

“Sorry sorry, I just.. know that you're lying. You've done this before, don't forget how much time I've actually spent with you.” You want to scold him for acting so bold, for saying he knows you better than yourself, but..

You're leaning against the table in one moment, and before you know it, you're hoisted to sit on its top. You felt like a relief you didn't realize. Your feet were aching. How long were you walking the in the halls today? The sensation of his hands planted on your waist. to steadily bring you to the counter, lingered after he had removed them.

“I used to see you wandering around back home- at the mansion, I mean. usually after a tough day. But it's been a few days, so I just thought you might be-”

“Why are you so calm?” Your sudden question made him visibly finch. "You were tricked, too, you know. He tore us apart. How can you be handling this so well?” Your voice starts to turn agitated. You weren't sure why you were taking it out on himm, but you both knew in the moment that this was the first time you’ve let any emotion out since the fight.

“It's like some.. malevolent force is constantly tearing us apart. One moment I'm happy, I'm in love, I'm smiling- then the next, you're just gone. and everything else that keeps me sane goes with it.” You feel a flood of tears beginning to well. Tears that you should've been letting out days ago. “Is this some kind of fucking curse? Why can’t things just be easy..? A-Are we just doomed?” You're wiping your face clear, your words becoming sloppy and hoarse.

“Maybe.” Your head lifts to see him, still calm as before, but with a solemn look on his face. “But, we keep finding eachother, right? And all the good times.. they'll stay good, won’t they?” You nod your head reluctantly.

He approaches you, with a hand on your shoulder, he's wiping away tears with the other.

“Honestly? I'm not handling this well at all. You're right, the universe has done nothing but tear us apart and hurt both of us. And I’m just about ready to tear Alastor limb by limb. I want Charlie to be okay.. I want to keep you by my side and never let you out of my sight this time.” You see his emotions range throughout his words, his eyes flashing red for a moment. He calms himself down, running his hand down your arm to hold your hand. You don't resist.

“But, you made some good points back there. And I just thought.. if you're strong enough to let that prick live, after everything, then.. Maybe I-I.. I'm trying to be strong.” He sounds almost embarrassed to admit it, and the comment on your strength leaves you a bit red in the cheeks. “You've always been so strong, darling. I just wish you'd tell me how you're really feeling.. I miss talking to you. Not this.. empty shell.” His words stung and he knew it as soon as they slipped from his lips.

“W-wait, no, I mean..”

“It’s fine, you're not wrong.. Jerk.” You share a little laugh with him, the mood lightening for just a moment. “Lucifer, I'm.. I'm so tired.” You let out weakly. That barely scratches the surface of everything. It's as if your mind was boiling over, with all the thoughts of Alastor turning sour, and the thoughts of redemption suddenly in question, not to mention all those feelings of Lucifer that were repressed until just recently. You want Charlie to be okay. You want things to be normal, but.. you're not quite sure what normal looks like. You wish you could say all this to him.. it’s hard to put it to words. But you're trying. He makes you want to try harder.

You feel a gentle hand holding your cheek, bringing your blurred thoughts to clarity and meeting eyes that left you breathless. When was the last time you've looked in his eyes? A blush forms across his cheeks, your gaze seems to fluster him. He clears his throat, getting his mind back.

“You're not okay. But.. You will be. I promise.” With a wry smile, you let the weight of your head fall into his palm.

Your eyes meet. He leans in and you feel his arms snake around yout waist. Looking back, you're almost embarrassed by the way you leaned towards him, eyes shut, head tilted, your lips just slightly parted. You were startled by the feeling of his head resting on your shoulder. He only pulls you closer after he feels your breath start to deepen, his hands gentle across your back. You finally return his touch, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and gripping tightly at his shirt.

It used to feel like, if you let go, you'll never hold him again. God, how the possibility scares you. But.. it feels a little different this time. You weren’t worried about him disappearing, this time.

You’re so comforted by his presence, you let yourself fully relax to him. You open your eyes just slightly, blinking out some tears that still remained, thoroughly ruining his top. You pull away, meeting his eyes again.

You feel as if you were close to forgetting this side of him, but you recognize this face. You saw it the night you first kissed him. You saw it after seeing him at the hotel for the first time, then when he decided to sweep you off your feet for a little date. You saw it after every little date that followed. You realize he's never stopped looking at you this way.

“I love you, too.”

-

I had to put that worship the devil in there it just made me laugh so sorry if that seemed out of place lol

And not to fear my friends,

I plan on making a little epilogue about how everyone's recovering, and some sweet, yummy, fluffy goodness to top it off.

Again, Thank you all so much for your support! :)

I'll be working on some requests next, and some more vamp Luci! Kind of in love with that guy ngl

Taglist! (good lord I hope I got everybody )

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness

@misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @wendigonamecaller / @chirimeimei / @sapphireravensworld / @sillywormtrixareforkids

[itsgrimeytime]

I Told You Now || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Part 2

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: I've Told You Now by Sam Smith or "But what the hell, why do you think I come 'round here on my free will? Wasting all my precious time... Oh, the truth spills out and oh I...I've told you now."

Summary: You were in love with Rick, not that he knew. You weren't sure you were ever going to tell him. What could you say, you loved the kids and didn't want to lose them too. It was too risky. But finding out he was chasing after some married woman was just the last straw.

TWs: angst, jealousy, yelling, anger, crying, cursing, mention of fainting, not really unrequited love (you just don't know that yet) and vague references to infidelity (Jessie to her husband).

[[A/N: This song came up on my old playlist, and let me tell ya... I had some thoughts. This might be a two-parter, we shall see. Enjoy <3]]

"Hey, Mags," you hummed -Judith bouncing on your hip, "-where's Rick? I've been trying to find him all da-"

Maggie froze for a second, and you stilled -tightening your grip on Judith. Was there danger? Was everything okay? Your eyes swung around to see if there was anything unusual, anything dangerous-

Your eyes caught on something.

It was Rick, wearing his constable uniform (which you blindly noted suited him really well), and talking to a woman. You knew her name, Jessie, he'd talked about her before -said her husband was a real piece of shit. Everyone within Alexandria apparently knew that, but Rick was the only one to do anything about it.

At the time, you thought it was heroic of him, something Rick would do.

But now...

Your eyes skimmed across his face, across the intent of his blue eyes. There was something there, something you knew. You're not sure if it's the way he stood, or the smooth smile slipped onto his lips, or the way he looked down when he laughed at her -whatever she said, but-

"Why don't you just come inside?"

You barely heard it, something in your chest sinking -heavy. Your heart was pounding in your chest, it felt like every breath took everything out of your lungs, like your whole world was teetering on an edge. And Rick Grimes held it in his hands.

And he was... he was throwing it around, he wasn't even careful-

"Y/N," she continued, and you could hear her but there was something in you that couldn't move.

How long had this been happening? A married woman, really?

You knew her husband was terrible, scum of the Earth-

"Y/N," she warned, gently.

But her?

Why hadn't he ever told you? Why did you ever think that it was different now?

What were you to him? Just a goddamn babysitter?

The hope that had gathered up in your chest was snuffed out, just like the crumbling of your heart. You'd always knew it would come to this, you just weren't ready.

"Y/N," she stressed -trying to gain your focus, "-come on-"

Something in your stomach twisted, sour.

Tossing like a tide, you swayed in place. Your head was getting fuzzy and your eyes were bleary. Your ears felt like they were stuffed, all the voices so far away-

You took a languid blink.

With a breath, you pushed Judith into Maggie's arms -ensuring her safety. And with that, your knees buckled underneath you.

You fell to the ground.

You remember hearing Maggie scream, hearing the rush of footsteps -slapping along the ground. You remember hearing him then too, but something in you soured -you tried so hard to block it out. Ignore it.

"What the hell happened?"

It made your head pound again, made your brain swim. You squeezed your eyes closed like it would bring you some relief, anything-

"Y/N?" A voice offered, you recognized it to be Maggie's, "-are you awake?"

You shifted ever so slightly, eyes blinking open. The first thing you noticed was the bandage along your head, had you hit your head? Your fingers shifted to touch it-

Maggie grabbed your wrist, stopping the motion, "That'll hurt. You hit your head when you... Doctor says it might give you some headaches for a while."

You realized then, you were in a bed -distinctly not yours. You knew the woody smell anywhere, your eyes darted along the nightstands, almost to confirm -an old picture of him, Lori, and Carl. Something in you winced, and not because of your head.

"Told 'im to give us a minute," she revealed, "-I said you'd want to be in your own house, but he insisted."

The apology went unsaid.

"'S okay," you slurred a little, you weren't sure if it was from the pain or the sleep, "-not your fault, Maggie."

"Still," she echoed -something in her protective, "-I won't leave 'im alone with you, I promise."

You laughed a little, "Grimes is gonna do it anyway, we both know that. Hell, maybe I'll finally tell him."

"Because of..."

It again went unsaid, you weren't sure you could say it out loud either.

"How-" you cleared your throat, "-Do you know how long...?"

Maggie sighed -picking at the white comforter, "A few weeks at most, me and Glenn only caught onto it that long. But I don't... I don't know."

"How can I be so pissed-" you cried -tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-I don't deserve to be pissed. How would he even know?"

"Y/N, you can be pissed," she interrupted, wrapped your hands into hers, "-It's not just you. Everyone thought- You aren't delusional. He was... There was something."

"Apparently not," you retorted -bluntly.

"Don't," she frowned, getting something to wipe at your eyes, "-Don't do that to yourself, you couldn't have known better."

"I should've known better," you echoed out -sniffling, "-I'm so stupid. I told myself to n-"

The door swung open.

Rick stood there -less composed than you saw him before. You inwardly flinched at the notion of... before. His hair was a bit unruly like he'd been running his hands through it -he did that when he was worried. You knew that. His jacket (constable jacket) was tossed off, a frown creased on his lips and worry on his brow. He looked at you -unflinchingly.

"I thought I 'eard ya cryin'," he spoke, seemingly to confirm to himself, "-does it hurt? Do I need to go get some medicine? Doc said-"

"No," you interrupted -plainly, wiping at your eyes, "-I'm fine, Rick. Actually-"

You pulled yourself out from under the comforter, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. It felt like you were suffocating in here -all you could smell was him, all you could see was him, all you could feel was him. It wasn't fair.

You needed some air, like now.

"-I'm gonna go home," you finished, looking to Maggie to help you get onto your feet (you were still a little dizzy).

"You can't-" he seemed to respond, in disbelief, "-You ain't supposed to be alone, right now. Doc said-"

"I'll go to Maggie's then," you offered -grabbing your shoes which were placed neatly by the bed. Something in you stung that he had thought to do that for you.

"Why?" He asked -genuine.

You wordlessly walked through the door past him -Maggie trailing you. You padded down the hallway, cursing the familiar walls -the baby toys scattered in the corner, the picture frames hung up on the wall, and the little trinkets from his time on the road.

"You'll tell me if the kids need me, yeah?" You spoke, finally -hand turning the doorknob.

"Will ya just talk to me?"

You stuttered in your step, you could feel Maggie behind you. Your heart twisting in your chest, you just wanted to go. But something in you stopped; god, you loved him so much. It wasn't fair.

"Fine," you answered -clipped, "-Maggie, give us a minute? I'll be over in a few."

She looked at you a moment, trying to see if she should leave maybe. Eyes darting over your face, reading your eyes -she seemed to be satisfied, "Okay."

You spun to Rick, taking a deep breath in through your nose.

"What do you want to talk about, Rick?"

He laughed -in disbelief, you could tell, "What do I wanna talk 'bout? Seriously? Like you don't know?"

You stared at him -wordlessly.

"Y/N," he started -stepping toward you, you almost immediately stepped back and he noticed, "-you fuckin' fainted, you're hurt. We don't even know why and now-"

"I know why," you interrupted.

He seemed to look at you in curiosity, "Why?"

"Haven't been eating," you lied with the ease of the wind.

He seemed to process that a second -concern flitting through his face before settling somewhere else, "'At's bullshit."

"How do you know-"

"You ate dinner at mine last night," he explained, "-an' ya cleaned your plate."

Shit.

"Look Rick," you mended, "-I really don't want to talk about it."

"Why?" He offered, and he stepped forward -you stepped back, "-and now you're... you're avoidin' me? What the hell happened? You were fine, yesterday-"

"Can we not get into this right now?" You interrupted again, "-My head hurts like hell, and I just want to go and rest, like I imagine I was told to do."

Rick leveled a look at you, "Why not 'ere? Why Maggie's? You're always 'round 'ere anyway-"

It slipped out before you could think about it -venomous, "And why do you think that is?"

He stuttered to a stop, "What?"

Regret spilled into your stomach, "Rick, let's not get into this. Seriously. I'm tired-"

"No, no," he echoed, "-you brought it up. What do ya mean? What are you talkin' 'bout?"

"I can't," you swallowed, tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-Rick, not now, okay?"

He looked at you surfing over your eyes, insistent, "Why are you 'round 'ere so often?"

"Rick-"

"I thought it was 'cause ya loved the kids," he listed, "-or 'cause we were friends. But you... 'Ere's another reason."

"Rick, I don't want to."

"Want to what?" He asked, something in his voice teetering, "-Tell me? Talk to me? We used to know everythin' 'bout each other, and now you're sayin'-"

Something in you snapped. You don't know if it was his tone, or the words, or the implication that you had been lying to him while he was so truthful to you-

"God, Rick," you nearly shouted, "-I'm in fucking love with you!"

Rick froze -unmoving. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"Are you happy now?"

He didn't say a word.

"So, yeah. I have been lying to you," you hissed, "-if you wanted to put it that way. If you wanted to say that I'm an asshole for protecting myself, then yeah, I am."

Rick was much different in his stance now -gentle like you'd run at his first motion toward you, eyes flickering between so many things, "Y/N..."

"No," you spoke -steely, "-I'm not. We're not doing this. I already know..."

Your words trailed off, and you swallowed -pushing down the tears. You weren't going to cry now.

"I saw you with Jessie, okay?" you explained -something in your voice softer, fragile, hurt, "-So I know. It's why I fainted. I just... I wasn't expecting it."

"Y/N, I never-"

"Seriously, Rick," you nearly begged -your voice cracking, "-I know. You don't need to drag this out longer. Did you not hear me the first time?"

His mouth snapped shut, even though he looked like he had a lot to say. Words urging to be uttered from his lips. But he didn't say anything, maybe out of respect to you. You were grateful.

"I'll be back by later to see the kids," you echoed out -something in your voice hollow.

"Will ya just let me-"

"Just let me know when Judith's up, okay?" You interrupted, deflecting, "-I said I'd watch her today."

And with a final look (maybe your last ever full look at him), you walked out the door.

[gaysindistress]

Never Love an Anchor

Pairings: gn!Tav x Zevlor

Summary: a ship can never love an anchor so Zevlor cut you loose but kept the love he held for you in his heart, hoping that maybe that might change.

Warnings: talks of cannon violence in bg3

Word count: idk man I wrote this in my notes and it’s more than a Drabble but not a fic so somewhere between? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I highly recommend listening to ‘never love an anchor’ by the crane wives. I read something from @gnomishcunning awhile back about the things that Zevlor deserves and that’s what inspired this so give them love too 💕

Bg3 mastlist

The great Hellrider Commander. The new leader of the exiled Tieflings. An old and broken paladin with no faith to draw strength from. A man who’s been charged with the protection of his people and expected to do right by each and every one without fail.

Commander Zevlor.

Or simply Zevlor as many of his people call him.

You’ve heard many stories about this famed man but never have you laid eyes on him. Elturel isn’t far from Baldurs gate so it wouldn’t be completely unimaginable to say that he somewhat of a hero to you. What happened to the city struck both fear and sorrow into your heart. The worst part, however, is knowing that the tieflings would be the ones to suffer the consequences of actions they had no part in. It takes a selfless soul to take on the duty that Zevlor has and this only adds to the respect you have for him.

The first time you meet is during the fight in front of the Grove. Arrows and spells are flying around as you battle the goblins with people you don’t even recognize. One goblin in particular has evaded your attack almost every time and has moved into a lethal position. Their arrows are landing successfully every time on the tiefling guard above the stone door, nearly sending him to an early grave.

Vaguely you hear someone shout his name as he stumbles backwards when an arrow lands in his shoulder,

“Zevlor!”

Shadowheart is doing what she can to protect you as your world seems to slow. Lae’zel ’chk’s at you when she notices your faltering movements and cuts down a worg coming for you while Astarion sneaks behind the remaining 2 goblins. The one that shot at Zevlor and has been dodging you also notices this and makes to attack you next. Your blade is faster than their bow.

They fall to the ground as you throw your last healing potion at the fallen tiefling and order Shadowheart to use her last spell to heal him.

The battle is won soon after and you’re finally able to meet this hero of yours for the first time. Rather than reducing to a star struck mess, you keep yourself composed as you approach him arguing with Aradin. Somehow you manage to convince them to stop fighting before yet another battle breaks out. You direct Aradin back with a simple point of your finger before turning to the Hellrider. It’s then that you realize there was one important detail missing from his legends; his striking beauty.

His horns stretch and bend far beyond most tieflings indicating both his age and wisdom. The infernal ridges that line his cheekbones and forehead bring attention to his entrancing eyes. Glowing like the enteral torch, Zevlor’s eyes study you with caution as you marvel at his appearance. Moving from his face you take in the worn but cared for chain mail armor that sits upon his strong shoulders that carry the burden of thousands. His chest, board and equally strong as his shoulders, seems to move in time with your own breath; adrenaline filled but calming all the same. It’s a testament to the seasoned paladin that lives within him, his reassuring strength that does not waver in the face of danger. It’s proof of the well trained commander within him that strategizes his every move as well as others.

Whatever words you thought might aid you in introducing yourself seemed to disappear and all you can offer is a half smile. Zevlor thanks you for your help but it’s not without a lingering gaze that cuts through your confidence. It seems he’s mistaken your shyness for indifference towards his people. Regardless he still asks for your help in getting his people to Baldur’s Gate. Your immediate acceptance causes several of your companions to be upset with you. Frankly Shadowheart is the only one who has an inkling about what’s truly going on. That night at camp, she brings whatever wine she could find to your tent and slowly drags the truth out of you.

“I couldn’t help but notice your fascination with Zevlor,” she muses from behind her chalice before adding, “well I could but there’s no fun in that.”

You chuckle at her as you take a sip of your own wine. It’s bitter and foul but it’s something to sooth your nerves no less.

“My fascination? And what exactly did I do for you to notice such a thing?”

“You stared at him as if he were the most beautiful piece of art work you’d ever seen. That or he was a feast after starving for weeks on end.”

“I did no such thing!” You try to defend yourself but it fails horribly when neither of you can stop laughing. “Fine maybe I did but can you blame me? He is a beautiful man.”

Rolling her eyes, Shadowheart finishes her chalice and turns to face you. It’s startling to have her full attention on you like this but the wine has lessened your concern.

“Tell me truly; do you have feelings for him?”

You stare back at her and hope that her goddess might have mercy on enough to smite you where you sit. Alas you have no luck and are forced to answer.

Your eyes find the empty chalice in your own hands as it dangles from your fingers between your knees.

“I think..,” you start with a sigh, “I think that my feelings are irrelevant in our current situation. A relationship, a romance has no place among the fight we’re facing. Matters of the heart have no relevance when making decisions the lives of many.”

Your strangely beautiful yet sobering confession renders the cleric speechless for once. She glances to between the moon and you before nudging you with her shoulder.

“Do not be so quick to cast your feelings aside. You never know when matters of the heart may take precedence.”

Some months later after the nether brain fight, everyone has settled into their lives and gone their separate ways. Wither’s gathering has already passed and this would be maybe a few weeks later. lakrissa and alfira have gotten married and theres to be a small reception in the city at the Elfsong. Of course the heroes of baldurs gate are invited seeing as without your party, the couple wouldn’t have survived this far.

Zevlor and the tieflings have made amends following the finale battle so he’s in attendance as well. He’s still cautious and honestly probably a little scared that they will change their mind and shun him for what happened at Moonrise so he’s a wall flower. He makes his rounds and keeps up polite conversation but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome so he plans to leave pretty early on. The rest of the party has arrived; Karlach and Wyll are the current stars of the hour as they tell fabulous tales of their time in Avernus. Gale and Lae’zel have sent their regards while Astarion and Shadowheart keep their chalices full and their gossip hushed. The only ones missing are you and Halsin.

Everyone knows that the two of you had something special but no one could ever figure out what. Shadowheart swore herself to secrecy and Astarion charmed the conversation to something entirely different. As for the others, no one knew why you chose to follow Halsin to the former shadow lands, only that you had and seemed to be content. Zevlor hasn’t seen you since the last fight and it created a deep rift within himself to think about it.

On one hand, he had nothing more than your conversations and the one near kiss to use as evidence of your affection for him. On the other, he remembered your tears when you found him the mind flayer colony and how you whispered a promise of forgiveness to him before you left to fight Thorm. He recalled in excruciatingly vivid detail the feeling of your tear soaked lips pressing to the corner of his as you pulled away and the utter devastation that filled your eyes.

“They will understand and they will forgive you if you give them the chance, Zevlor. You are their commander, their leader, their champion. You are not at fault for this and they will see that if you let them. Promise me that you will try. Promise me that you will not forsake yourself.” You whispered to him in a cracked and pleading voice, “promise me you’ll try. You deserve it.”

His heart pounded against his ribs as he forced himself to look at you in the eye. His knees buckled as your lips brushed against his. His voice wavered as he agreed to your promise. His strength cracked as you smiled at him and left to face almost certain death.

Zevlor isn’t so foolish to believe that you would’ve chosen to follow him after the finale battle but his heart yearned to think about that possibility. The chance, no matter how small, still felt real even as he anxiously waited for your arrival.

Like a goblin’s arrow, the sight of you walking into the Elfsong arm and arm with Halsin pierces Zevlor’s heart. You do in fact look content; your skin is glowing from being able to eat your fill and sleep as long as your desire. Your hair has been released from its strict hairstyle; bouncing around your face back in soft waves and shines in the pale evening light. Your eyes, while they’ve always been stunning, have a new spark of warmth and joy. No longer are you clad in armor but instead you’re wearing a white and blue patterned outfit that flows around you like water. Your figure has also changed but in this new attire, it becomes even more apparent that you are healthy, happy, and a feast yourself. The smile that blesses his dreams widens as you begin to notice your companions and former allies.

Zevlor casts his gaze to the ground when Halsin presses a kiss to your hairline. This confirmation is too much for him to bear and he finds anything to occupy his mind.

As the gathering quickly turns into a celebration, Zevlor attempts to make his exit. He quickly bids the couple farewell and congratulates them before trying to slip out without being noticed. A deep sigh leaves him as soon as he’s outside the doors and it’s not one of relief.

Frustration maybe.

Anger perhaps.

Or is it shame that forced him to leave without even acknowledging you?

“I knew you were not one for crowds but this I did not expect.”

He halts and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s been caught.

“The city has been treating you well, I take it. You look…” you trail off as you allow the tavern doors to close behind you, “good. Not that you didn’t before but… a life of ease agrees with you.”

Zevlor doesn’t face you, a choice that pains you more than you’d like to admit. He’s almost frozen in place as you approach him.

Coming to stand just beside him, you murmur his name and all but beg him to look at you.

With great effort, he does. A hint of blood woven pain flashes in his infernal eyes as he gazes down at you.

“But how have you been treating yourself, hm? Have you forgiven yourself or have you forsaken yourself to a life of solitude?”

He says nothing but it’s an answer enough; he’s not kept his promise to you. He crosses his arms over his chest and attempts to look more casual about the whole situation.

You begin to say his name but he cuts you off, “go on and enjoy the celebration. There are many people who have been waiting for a chance to speak with you.”

“what about you?”

His thick brows knit in confusion, “me?”

“Is there anyone else out here?” You tease for a moment, “I did mean you, Zevlor. What about you? Were you one of them?”

He wants to pretend that he wasn’t but he can’t, not when he’s been agonizing over this moment for months now. A particularly loud shout draws your attention back to the tavern and when you’re not looking, he can’t help his gaze. Almost immediately he finds himself staring at your revealed chest and the way your shirt does little to conceal the vast plains of your torso. A lump grows in his throat at the thought and he barely swallows it before you look at him again.

“I’ve thought of little else but what it would be like to see you again these last few months,” you say after taking a deep breath, “Halsin finds it difficult to not tease me about how ‘preoccupied’ I seem most days. On our way here, he told me that I better say the words I’ve been pondering all this time or he would do it for me.”

At the mention of Halsin, Zevlor unintentionally stiffens and looks over your shoulder towards the tavern. You follow his line of sight and step in front of him once more. It’s a bold move but no bolder than what you’re about to do.

You place your hands on his folded arms and gently pull, asking him to step closer and to give his attention.

“I know of the rumors about Halsin and I. I’d hoped that you hadn’t heard of them but it appears that you have and now I fear you won’t hear what I have to say.”

Zevlor stares at your hands for a moment before letting his eyes flutter closed. “Speak plainly, y/n.”

His words are uncharacteristically short and cold, a stark contrast to the person you’d come to know. You go to drop your hands and step back but one of his shots out and grabs your wrist, keeping you in place.

“I need you to be clear and precise right now. There cannot be any doubt or confusion from this moment forward.” he tells you in a low tone, one of authority and of a Hellrider Commander.

The hand on your wrist shifts to grip your bicep and pulls you impossibly closer. Your own breathing quickens when your feel your chest press against his and you find yourself leaning into his grip, relying on his strength to keep yourself upright.

Your voice, usually strong and confident, wavers as you whisper, “Halsin and I….we are no more than friends.”

Zevlor stays silent, only searches your face for any tell that you could be lying. The hand on your bicep flexes and his claws press into your skin. You hold back a hiss from the sting, pushing aside the pain to become fully absorbed in his presence. He goes to apologize however your lullaby words silence him, “He is not the one I’ve longed for since we first met.”

His hand tightens and tries to hold you in place but his strength fails him. Your hands drift from his arms to his chest and come to rest on his jaw. The tiefling’s eyes flutter closed at the contact and he takes a deep, sharp breath.

“Y/N,” he warns.

“I’ve admired you from the moment I first heard your story. I’ve known that you were going to be someone deeply important to me from the moment we fought side by side in the grove. I’ve yearned to learn everything about you since you reject my advances at the celebration, claiming that I could have anyone I desired. I’ve cared for you since learning of your fate in the Shadowlands. I realized that I loved you when I found you in moonrise in that awful colony but I’ve loved you far longer. I’ve loved you all of this time but yet I couldn’t find it within myself to tell you for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same.” Tears begin to flow from both of you as you whisper your confession to him and he keeps his eyes closed, “Zevlor I’m in love with you and I want nothing more than to be with you if you’ll have me.”

His tail wraps around your waist, keeping you close while his hands slid up onto your neck and tilt your head up. With a shaky deep breath, he musters the strength to open his eyes and look at you. The old paladin has forsaken his forgotten god many months ago and promised to live in your honor. He’s swore an oath to you that you know nothing about but it would seem that you have done the same.

“My love for you knows no bounds and no rivals,” he whispers as his lips brush against yours, close but not close enough. “I’ve waited long enough to hear that you feel the same. Promise to me that this is not some cruel joke, a drunken confession but the truth. Promise to me that you truly mean that you love me.”

“I love you,” you hastily whisper before finally capturing him in a passionate kiss. A groan slips from him at the feeling of your desperation to convey your feelings but it’s returned tenfold.

It seems that Shadowheart was right all those months ago.

[harryisourlover]

Erotic painter 🧑‍🎨 part 1

*Explicit content

Smutt, oral, p in v, squirt

Harry loves oral sex, especially giving it. He can't understand men who say that only penetration is pleasurable; he finds it absurd! He started his sexual adventures very early. Having had many older partners definitely helped him become an expert in oral sex.

The year was 2019, and he was finishing an album about the end of a relationship. However, he already had almost a whole song in his head about female oral sex and couldn't finish it... there was a natural block. His studio mates, who were writers and producers, just laughed at him! They said he needed to find extra inspiration because his ex-girlfriend wasn't enough!

Harry was annoyed by this teasing, but deep down, he knew it was true. He was able to write about everything he felt in all aspects of the relationship with that person. Even though he enjoyed pleasuring her orally, it wasn't the most passionate moment when he was with her for some reason, and he didn't know what that reason was.

Frustrated to know he had a song almost ready before starting to record an album, and already in the final days of recording without having completed it, he decided to leave his partners there alone and walked through the city.

He arrived in front of a very beautiful and old building with the main gate open and the inviting entrance hall. Without a second thought, not even considering the fact that someone might recognize him, he went inside to see those paintings up close.

The artworks were absolutely incredible to Harry because they were clearly a mixture of orchids and vulvas! He spent a long time there, fascinated at first thinking, "Who posed for these paintings?" Then after a while, he went to look at the signatures and saw that it was a woman. He started imagining, "Was it a self-portrait, or did she bring other people to pose for her?" But there were only two figures, and they were very similar. Did this artist have a collection?

Finally, he saw a man in a uniform enter the reception area and went to ask him: "Excuse me, I'm a bit confused here. Is this a residential building because it looks like it, or is it an art gallery? I'm confused because these paintings are on the wall with prices."

The man replied, "Yes, this is a residential building, and the owner, or rather the heiress who lives in the penthouse, insisted on putting up these hideous things, thinking someone will buy them."

"Interesting," replied Harry, stroking his chin. "Could you take me to her?"

"Certainly, but I need to announce it first. What's your name?"

Harry hesitated but chose not to lie. "Styles, Harry Styles."

The man left to make the call and then came back, saying, "Follow me."

Harry followed the man to another elevator further back, and he explained that it was a private elevator. They went up, and he said, "You can wait here in this hall!" Harry thanked him and stepped out of the elevator, enchanted to see more artworks. He stood there studying them and realized that it was the same vulva in all the works, just changing the positions of the open and closed lips, dry or wet, etc.

*just a real life picture of H hard in his shorts* #sorrynotsorry

After a few minutes there, he didn't notice someone observing him, but he certainly noticed that he was hard and excited, dreaming of tasting that flower.

"Are you really interested in buying a painting, or are you just going to masturbate here in my hall?" a voice said.

"Excuse me?" Harry said, turning around indignantly but obviously hard, unable to hide his situation in his sweatpants.

*boner H

Now face to face, she looked at his erection, salivated, but then looked into his eyes without saying anything else. Just a sassy smile.

Harry continued staring at her, and after two minutes, he leaned in to kiss her, passionately, and dragged her to her apartment door.

(Y/N) responded and dragged him, still kissing, into the apartment. She pushed him onto the couch and said, "If you kiss my lips down there as well as you do up, maybe I'll let you fuck me with that dick in the end..."

"You will never regret it!" said Harry.

They started changing positions on the couch. He lay her down completely and slowly savored every part of her that was revealed as he removed each piece of clothing. With each piece he took off, he gave a kiss or a nibble in that spot.

(Y/N) had never felt so desired, and it had been a long time since she had felt anything except the complete excitement that the eyes of this young man sparked in her. She had been a widow for three years and had not been with anyone since. Usually, her paintings repulsed high society, especially men. Among women, she was constantly praised and flirted with.

There was Harry, a handsome young man with green eyes, a charming accent, a dimpled smile, and clearly a wonderful cock right at her feet. Before he even touched her genitals, she warned: "Please go slowly, it's been years since my last time, and I'm already on the verge of climaxing just from your kisses."

Harry let out a groan when saw she was hairy and gently, with his two hands holding the sides of her large lips, opened her up. He looked inside and saw how wet she was, also noting how tight and small that hole was, almost like a virgin. He said, "Darling, I know you're not lying. Just by looking at your beautiful pussy, I know it's true. I won't lie to you either; I'm almost coming without even having tasted you!"

This time, it was she who let out a moan and said, "Please, prove it! Let me come in your mouth!"

And so he did, delicately approaching first, she feeling the warm air of his mouth close to her clitoris, and then finally the tip of his tongue. In that same second, they both moaned, and Harry continued delicately sliding his tongue down to the tiny hole while still firmly holding her lips open.

He repeated this motion, going up and down a few times. He decided to match it with his lips and everything as if giving a deep kiss, everything inside his mouth, their lips moving, both his and hers amid a lot of saliva, moans, breath, all together. It didn't take long for her to climax in his mouth, trembling violently, trying to close her legs, and he came without even touching his own penis, which was still in his pants.

Her taste was sensational, like orchid nectar, sweeter than anything else. In that moment, he only thought, "This is the taste of summer, of strawberries, watermelon, everything I've always dreamed of finding, the taste I needed to experience to finish the song."

A few minutes after they composed themselves, she asked if he had a condom, and he quickly searched for one. Harry recovered so quickly that just by looking at that tight, wet, pulsating pussy, he was ready again, and he was happy because he didn't have to ask or beg for it, she wanted it just as desperately. But she made a request that surprised him...

"You inspired me to make the first painting of a male genital, may I take a photo of just yours?"

"But... I'm famous, this could cause me problems."

"No one will know it's you, I promise, and you know I'm a millionaire heiress, I don't need to sell anything to the paparazzi when I have a horror of them myself, and I run from them, and look, I'm not as famous as you..."

"Alright, if you promise me that I'll take one of those paintings with me as a keepsake, and you'll allow me to be inspired by you for a song."

"Deal! And when your painting is ready, well, I would have to make one for me, one for you... I'll send you one too."

"Deal! Oh, but just one more thing... I'm going to fuck you now, let's take a photo another day because honestly, I don't know if I can wait to have you."

"No, my love, I can't wait either. Next time we'll take photos!"

And with a grin from ear to ear, like a boy who just received the best gift in the world, Harry finally positioned his penis at that entrance and stared intently, hardly breathing from so much excitement, but also struggling with the difficulty his head was having to enter.

“It's hurting a bit."

"I'll go slow, don't worry. Breathe deeply, relax..."

Harry, still only at the head and very carefully, began to rub her clitoris with his thumb, feeling her relax more and more until he finally slid inside. He stayed still for a few seconds, looking to make sure everything was alright.

"Move, please! I'm fine, I need to feel you, please."

Harry didn't need to be told twice and started to move in and out slowly, not only to not hurt her but also out of self-control. He felt himself almost climaxing again and didn't want it to be so quick.

The night was not about wild sex but about rediscovery for her, feeling all her dormant erogenous points for over three years, and he savored every time she squirted that sweet nectar that left him intoxicated, enraptured.

And so he was very happy to find his muse, his Sweet Watermelon Sugar, and she found the perfect Adonis for her exclusive series of two paintings, but that's a story for another encounter...

[deandoesthingstome]

Holiday Angel

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas break was officially on!

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh, god. Stop!"

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

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

"Your roommate Brigette?"

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

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

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

"What, missionary all the way?"

You both laughed until the tears were running.

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

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

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

"What was that?" Gemma asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Why would I?"

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

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

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

While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Coming?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Girls', dad? Really?"

"What would you prefer?"

"Ladies?"

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

"Right then. There you go, ladies."

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

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

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

"Enjoying it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here. Take it."

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

“There you go.” 

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

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

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

"Thank you, Mr. Walker."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“August.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you be joining them?”

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

“Uh…”

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

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

“I am!” she grinned.

“Alone?”

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

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

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

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

“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully. 

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

“On a Sunday, dad, really?”

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

“You’re obsessed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hot tub,” you agreed.

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

“There you are.”

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.

“They’re pretty.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to eat that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

“Into what?”

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

“And what do you want?”

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

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

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

“Can I help with the dishes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really do,” you whispered.

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

“It is.”

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

“Can I touch you August?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

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

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

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

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

“I would.”

“Very well then.”

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

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

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

“Yes, August. I want you.”

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

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

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

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

“Please, August,” you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Patience, little Angel.”

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

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

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

“Say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’re sure you're ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hands and knees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.”

“Why?”

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

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

“Now, where were we?” he grinned.

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

“I can stop you at any time.”

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!” 

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

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

“Please what, Angel?”

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

“Do you need me to stop?”

“I want you to come. Please August.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a start.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why would…?”

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

“But I want you.”

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

“Come here.” August set your bottle of water aside and drew you into his arms, leaning back against the sofa as you relaxed onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head and ran a hand slowly up and down your back.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.

“Life rarely is, Angel. Come on, let’s just enjoy the time we do have. What d’you say, hmm?”

You nodded and sniffed away the beginnings of your tears. August gently sat you up, then prepared small bites of food from the tray and brought them to your lips. You soaked in all the attention, certain you’d never feel so safe and loved again in your life.

With some energy back, you felt your mood lighten. August was right. You should make the most of what time you have left. You reached for the champagne bottle, peeled off the foil wrap, and untwisted the thin metal cage surrounding the cork. August chuckled as he watched you struggle with the cork, so you stuck out your tongue and handed the bottle to him.

“Please?” He popped the cork with ease and poured the golden liquid for you both.

“A toast?” He raised his glass to yours and watched closely as you mulled it over.

“To one night only.”

“One night only.” He smiled with a nod and watched as you took a sip, then stole a kiss before taking a drink from his own glass. He grabbed a strawberry from the tray and held it to your lips as you took a bite. “Now another drink.”

You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth. 

“When you try this on your own, be sure to get an extra-dry champagne,” August cautioned. “Moet brut won’t work with this flavor combination.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind when I replenish my champagne cooler at school,” you teased. “What about this one?” You took another bite of strawberry and a sip of champagne, then leaned in for a kiss letting the flavors swirl in your mouth alongside his tongue. August continued the kiss, even as he set his glass aside and grabbed for yours to set it down as well.

He eased you to your back on the couch and slipped the tie loose from your robe before he finally broke the kiss.

“That’s also a good one. You’re quite the quick study.” He pushed the fabric aside, baring your chest and stomach, then appraised you for a moment before running his fingers over your breasts and down your belly, letting his mouth follow the trail.

You let out a soft moan and spread your legs involuntarily as he shifted to the floor and tugged your hips around so your ass was hanging off the sofa to give him better access. He let your legs rest over his shoulders and you sighed as he once again slipped his tongue and fingers through your folds, ravishing your core to bring another orgasm crashing over you. 

You barely had a moment to recover before you felt the belt of your robe sliding out from underneath you and in a swift heartbeat, August had you flipped over, urging you onto your knees on the cushions with your arms leaning on the back of the couch. You peered back at him, while he shifted the fabric of the robe over your back, letting it drape off to the side and leaving your bare ass and legs completely exposed to him. He watched you carefully as he rubbed a large hand over one cheek, then drew back and spanked you hard. He was already caressing the red mark before the shocked gasp left your lips. He quirked an eyebrow at you in a silent question. Again?

You pondered the feeling and decided that yes, August Walker could spank your ass. You turned your head to peer over the back of the couch and jutted your hips back towards him wordlessly asking for more, which he gladly gave. The sharp smacks were sometimes single, sometimes doubled up, but always tempered with a gentle caress before he dealt another blow.

You were dripping for him. When he dragged two fingers through your soft petals to gather the nectar, you glanced back to see him wrap his lips around his fingers and lick your taste off them. Then he reached his hand in the pockets of his pants and withdrew another foil square before dropping his pants altogether.

“You planned this,” you cried in feigned scandal.

“I hoped for it. Not the same thing,” he gently replied, rolling the condom over his swollen length. “But it’s always good to be prepared. Speaking of which…” 

August reached forward to grasp the silk belt he’d tossed aside, then drew one of your arms back behind you.

“May I have your other arm, Angel?”

You offered it without hesitation, shifting off the back of the couch so that all your weight was now on your knees. You felt him loop the belt around both wrists separately before he wrapped the tie a few more times around both. Holding the binds of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to guide his sheathed cock to your soaked pussy, gliding easily into your core. Once his hips met yours, he started a commanding pace, pumping in and out of you all the while holding you in place with your hands.

As if he could feel you losing control, unable to stay up straight any longer, August let the belt slips a few inches through his fingers before gripping tight again, giving you enough room to bend forward and rest your chest on the back of the couch while he continued to pump in and out of you with a devastating pace, the juice from you squelching around his cock.

“You fucking take me so good, Angel. Such a pretty pussy. Can you hear her talking to me? She says the sweetest things.”

He set a hand on your low back and pressed his against your stretched entrance, letting it drag along his cock as he moved back and forth and gathering some of your slick on the pad. You felt him ease his hand up, fingers pressing into the flesh of your asscheeks before he teased around your puckered rim with his thumb. When the moan escaped your mouth he knew he was on the right path and wasted no more time. He slipped his thumb right into your hole and held on while you bucked back against him.

“Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you? Fucking my cock so good. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. August, fuck yes.” You could barely form more words so moans of pleasure and squeals of delight were all he heard but they were enough to spur him on and lead him down the path of his own release just as soon as he felt yours.

With one practiced tug, he released you from the bind and eased himself out of your still pulsing pussy, then guided you to stand before him, pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck while he pulled the spent condom off his softening dick. He grabbed a napkin from the tray and wrapped it in a wad before spinning you to face him and kissing you hard.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

He led you upstairs one last time, abandoning the snack platter and half-full champagne bottle. He took you through to his bathroom, turned on the warm spray jets of the tiled shower, then disrobed you completely. You stepped into the glass cabinet and turned to grab his arm to bring him with you.

Without prompting, he grabbed a bar of the same bright citrus scented soap you always found in your guest room and lathered you up. If you weren’t about to fall asleep on your feet, you’d succumb so easily to the way his fingers danced across your skin, caressing every nook and cranny like they knew the way by heart. He spun you into the water to rinse and set to cleaning himself.

And now you had your answer. It was body wash, with a woodsy, pine scent. He rubbed it all over his body with his bare hands. He watched you watching, mesmerized at the way his muscles moved and the carefree way he gathered his own package and lathered it with suds before shifting you gently out of the way and rinsing off under the cascading water. 

Yes, he leaned an arm against the wall, but that could be just because you were with him and he wanted to encase you while he kissed you, tongue probing gently and mouths moving in unison. He groaned as he pulled away.

“We’d better get some sleep.”

The fluffy towel he dried you with was heavenly against your skin. He toweled himself as well before leading you back to his bed. 

“Are you comfortable sleeping here with me tonight?” he asked. “If you’d rather wake up in your own bed, I’d understand.”

It was uncharacteristically sweet, the way August was now wondering how you would feel in the morning, knowing you could never have him again. 

“I’d like to stay with you for tonight, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay.” He pulled the covers back and slipped in, holding them up for you to join him. Wrapped in his arms, head against his chest, you found yourself drifting off faster than you would have liked. You loved pillow talk, but supposed you’d managed that with him before, during, and a little after downstairs by the fire. Besides, pillow talk was for lovers. Which you were now assured you were not.

You woke later than you’d planned, your body still clearly recovering from the unexpected vigorous activity. August was not with you and though you knew the morning would not be a time to whisper sweet nothings, still you’d hoped to wake in his arms, just as you’d fallen asleep. The robe he’d lent you last night was draped across the foot of the bed and your lingerie was folded neatly on a chair nearby. 

You shrugged into the robe and grabbed your things, then headed downstairs where you could smell coffee already brewed but found no sign of August in the kitchen. You continued down to your room where you realized you’d left your phone all night. Shit.

When you picked it up, there were about ten messages from Gemma and you braced yourself as you opened the app to read them. Yes, in the end she wondered where the fuck you were and why you weren’t answering her but there was no urgent call to get her immediately. The night with Mike seemed like it had gone exactly as planned.

She only wanted to let you know Mike’s friends were throwing a New Year’s party and of course you were invited. Mike even had a university friend coming in from out of town for the party and Gemma wanted to set you up with him. The guy in the picture she sent looked cute enough. Apparently he sailed and had dark, wavy hair, a little shorter than Mike’s. His smile was amazing, but to your eyes, he was a boy. He would never compare, you were sure.

Just as you were contemplating how to let him down gently, your phone rang and Gemma’s number appeared. You took a deep breath and hoped nothing in your voice would betray you.

“Hey!” you answered brightly.

“Whoa, too much. Too loud. Calm down.” Gemma was hungover, for sure.

“Sorry,” you quieted. “Everything okay?”

“I think I drank a liquor store last night. Mike’s still passed out, but I need my bed. Can you come get me?”

“Now? Yeah. Of course. Let me just get my shoes on. See you in thirty?”

Gemma agreed, though she wished you’d ignore some of the speed signs along the way and you laughed, promising to grab a Vitamin Water from the fridge before you left.

You noticed another message come through just as you hung up with Gemma. August was in his office. He didn’t want you to think you’d been abandoned, but he had to get an early start for meetings and wanted to let you sleep in. You texted him you were off to get Gemma. Chat bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before a solitary frowny face finally appeared.

With no idea how to respond and not a lot of time to spare hashing it out, you dressed quickly, grateful you’d already washed off last night’s extravagance. You grabbed the keys to Gemma’s car, grabbed a water from the gym, and headed back out to the garage.

Gemma was still too dazed to inquire much about why you were absent from your phone last night and you didn’t offer any conversation about it. The whole drive was pretty quiet except for the radio. August was gone when you got back and while Gemma couldn’t care less, you were a little let down. You’d hoped you’d be able to at least sit with him a bit while Gemma slept off the rest of her hangover, but that wasn’t to be.

He kept himself pretty scarce the rest of the week, too, texting Gemma he wouldn’t be home for dinner any of the nights until you were scheduled to head back home for Christmas Eve. Four long-suffering nights and days filled with late breakfasts by the pool and dinner and drinks in town with Mike and other friends. You barely got to say goodbye to August as he breezed off to one final meeting the morning of the 24th before Gemma came upstairs to grab coffee.

Christmas was low key with just the six of you at your parents. No other relatives were traveling in and no one else nearby had invited you over for anything special. Gemma always celebrated alone with her dad, too. Your aunt wanted to take you and your mom to the sales the day after Christmas and that was an all day, exhausting affair. You were in bed by 9.

Over the next five days, you visited with Gemma and Mike, old high school friends, and your parents a few times. But never August. Gemma said as wonderful as Christmas was with him, he was stressing about the deal and spending all his time at the office since the day after. He needed to get the deal signed by the 31st at the absolute latest. And his company’s New Year’s Eve gala was set for the Grand Hotel downtown. He’d offered you both tickets, but Gemma really wanted to hang out with Mike.

Will was nice enough, if a little on the arrogant side. He was a good kisser and you could kinda imagine what he might be able to do with that mouth placed somewhere else, but then you really thought about it and decided the missing facial hair would change the feel. Nevermind. He was at least gracious about the letdown.

The drive back to school was a little somber. You were still trying to figure out if there was any possibility of a roommate swap. Gemma offered to just put you up at her place for the semester, but you didn’t want to sleep on a couch fantasizing about her father while she was in the other room. Maybe Brigette would just spend all her time at Charlie’s, like you should have.

A few days after the start of classes, a small package arrived for you in your mailbox. You’d grabbed it on the way to your Criminal Procedures lecture and stuck it in your backpack to open later. When you got back to your room after taking advantage of office hours to clear the theme for your research paper, you sat cross legged on your bed and opened the small, cardboard box. Inside, nestled in tiny, delicate packing peanuts, was an even smaller, embossed white paper sleeve surrounding a small, red velvety square box.

Inside was a thin, delicate gold chain, with a charm of black onyx arranged in the gold outline of an art deco wing. An angel's wing.

You searched the box for a card and finally found one buried under the packing material once you realized you’d opened the box upside down. There was a simple message to you.

'Angel. This belongs on the part of you I never got the chance to chain. Remember all you are worth and take it as you can. Yours for one night. - A’

Taglist (if you are crossed out I can’t tag you)

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @feelmyroarrrr @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @mollymal @summersong69  (Old times sake? @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sebbytrash @anotherwinchesterfangirl )

Holiday Angel: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings​ @plaidcat4815 @augustsprincess  @alexakeyloveloki @gofirityouguys

[livlaughloveluke]

Hey!! Can u write a story inspired by “Snow on the beach” with Taylor and Lana ofc bc they r the music industry. Love ya!!

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you and ethan fall for each other, a new feeling that only can be described as snow on the beach emerges

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none

𝐚/𝐧: i love lana and taylor so yk i had to fill this request! if you requested something earlier, i am working on it now! also this should be gender neutral, but its my first time writing for a gn reader so I might have messed up! 💗💕

you walked down the dimly lit street with your friends, while having an amazing time. however, something inside you still felt empty. you wanted someone you love you the way you had loved others. you had a couple partners in the past years, but most were hookup buddies or toxic, if we’re being honest.

unbeknownst to you, across the empty street, was a man who had been craving love, the same way you did. he walked behind his friends, who were in seemingly perfect relationships. his roommate chad was laughing with tara, while mindy was holding hands with anika. sam was absent from their meetup, probably with her boyfriend, danny.

as fate would have it, the two strangers would see each other again in the near future.

tara and you had met through a shared class, and quickly became good friends. one friday, during study period, she invited you to a frat party that she was attending with her friends later that night. you agreed, and soon you were laughing your asses off, half drunk, while walking to the house it was hosted at. 

chad had seen you around campus, and your kind-hearted personality and gorgeous looks made him think you and ethan were a perfect match. once he heard you were showing up to the party with tara, he knew he had to set you and ethan up. 

the two boys waited for you and tara’s arrival. chad had told ethan about you, and ethan immediately recognized your name. you were extremely intelligent, and he had plenty of classes with you. he doubted that you would even look his direction, but chad begged to differ. he spent the next few minutes hyping ethan up, until you arrived.

tara looked around the crowded rooms of the building, searching for her boyfriend. once she spotted him, she grabbed your wrist and dragged you with her. the house was filled with drunk, sweaty college students, and the aroma made you gag. 

“chad!” tara exclaimed, letting go of your hand to enthusiastically hug him. “this is my friend y/n!” 

you look at the boys, and are immediately caught off guard by the taller ones beauty. you quickly introduce yourself to them, before meeting eyes with ethan.

“ethan, right? i think we have econ together.” you say, eagerly awaiting his response. he was surprised you knew his name, let alone recognized him. 

“uh, yeah! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen you around the school before.” he nervously responds, fidgeting with his hands. 

“mhm! if im being honest, I literally have no clue what we’re doing in that class.” you reply, trying to start a conversation. chad and tara look at each other with a smile, knowing you and the boy would be getting along well.

“oh, i could totally help! not to flex, but im pretty good at econ. i could help tutor you or something, i mean maybe if you wanted to.” he offers, and you smile and agree. you exchange numbers and begin studying together every tuesday and thursday. 

after a few weeks of strictly schoolwork, you start to hang out together more, as friends instead of tutor and tutuee. it started off as going out with the group, but you slowly began spending one on one time with each other.

you were currently having your first sleepover together, as friends of course. you and him were attempting to make homemade cookies, and lets just say it wasn’t going well. 

“eth, how much sugar did you pour into the batter…?” you ask, noticing the extreme sweetness while tasting.

“I don’t know, like four cups? thats what you told me.” he continues mixing, unaware of the situation.

“ethan!! i said two cups you dipshit!!” you say, now laughing at his silly mistake.

“what?! you did not!! i mean, it cant taste that bad, right?” he dips his finger in the sugary substance, and immediately regrets tasting it. he starts laughing too, to the point of tears. it really wasn’t that funny, but seeing you laugh just made him fill with joy.

truth was, he was falling for you. and he had a sneaky suspicion that you felt the same. however, this state of your relationship was heavenly, and he wouldn’t dare to ruin anything by attaching a label. 

he had never fallen in love with a person who truly loved him back, so this was very new to him. it was an ethereal experience, and he lacked the words to describe it.

if he had to however, he would compare it to snow on the beach. god it was weird, and yet somehow so beautiful. it was like watching a romantic movie, and he was the star. 

little did he know, soon you would start dating, and this unique feeling would never go away. in other words, the snow on the beach never seemed to melt.

taglist- @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome, @imkillmyselfxoxo, @lumaxstans-blog, @ilovejackchampionnn, @hyeyulove, @jackchampiongf13, @sebastiansallowsgf, @michaelangdonsslut, @1212valee, @teenagedramaqueenlisa, @fherlima, @kate4katie, @itsb3a2, @maybankfr

some names wouldn’t let me tag :(

[cottagedeer]

So uh, I just… did a thing on Janitor AI that I’m just gonna make a little tldr of it.

Betty is reincarnated as a more humanoid hybrid/fusion of Betty and Golb (“Gordana the path witch” somewhat Inspired by Elen of the ways.) emerged from a large cocoon that landed on Ooo like a comet in a hidden butterfly meadow deep in the woods.

Memories of being Betty are somewhat hazy for her, with her only memories of her past life was with Simon before the crown took hold of him. With her witch-like appearance, she pass off as a wizard because of her destructive and chaotic abilities. She lived in Wizard City for some months just existing and trying to find a name for herself. One day she is out hunting for live ingredients for a magic shop she works at and runs into Simon on his route back to the Human City.

Long story short of ‘act 1’, Simon instantly recognizes her and tries to convince her that she is Betty. Mentioning her past life of her dreams and ambitions in vein, Gordana simply couldn’t comprehend anything Simon said, apologizing that he must have confused her for someone else. Simon felt embarrassed as he started to feel doubt in his gut feeling until Gordana mentioned about Simon’s book about artifacts, something that he has not done in such a long time, faith in his gut feeling returned, vowing to her that he will find some way to return her memories of her past life. (He might have had too much to drink that evening when he bumped into Gordana.)

Skip a few of angsty plot revolving around Simon getting close to Gordana and slowly able to bring some memories back thanks to BMO’s regression simulator game.

It had only partially worked, enough for her to remember being Betty in her past life, but still had hazy memories when after Simon put the crown on for the first time. Simon didn’t give up on his mission to help Gordana remember her times with him as Betty Grof, but he had also slowly come to fall in love with Betty’s incarnation, over time, Simon had come to accept the lady before him as her own individual.

So cute.

Now onto the mpreg shit you have been probably waiting for, hehe.

Because Gordana is a fusion between Betty and GOLB, she carries on both masculine and feminine features. So one thing lead to another (Reason for this post.) and the two end up expecting.

Simon could not keep his hands off of Gordana’s abdomen and was super dodie on becoming a father, however he started to notice gaining weight and having similar pregnancy symptoms around the same time Gordana started showing. The two chalk it up to something called ‘sympathy pregnancy weight’ and thought nothing of it, sometimes even joking of who is the one expecting and who is just getting the golden dad bod.

But sometimes Simon can’t shake the feeling that something is off about the weight gain.

[abybweisse]

Ch213 (p3), Barnabus Fairchild III

A bellhop greets them upon arrival, and he asks for their names.

Before they can get out their aliases, they are interrupted by a voice belonging to someone they don't initially notice.

This guy is the hotel manager (a member of the Aurora Society) and has been waiting for them, and his name is Barnabus Fairchild III. Still looks like Milburn Pennybags to me. 😆

He knows they traveled all the way from London (initially, despite the major detour they made).

And then he calls them by name, making their aliases useless.

Of course, they really should have realized they couldn't walk into that hotel not even trying to disguise their appearances. Random people along the way might not recognize them or even care, but this is real Ciel's and Undertaker's territory, if you will. If Blavat knew them immediately when they went to Sphere Music Hall -- and he did -- so is anyone who is in charge of this hotel.

And yet... he welcomes them.

Instead of feeling welcomed, they should be very worried; I should think they are.

Idk when ch214 will be released, but I'm sure looking forward to the promised climax of the series after Yana-san's hiatus. 😃

Best wishes to Yana-san on her long-deserved vacation and travels. I hope she gets all the inspiration and research she needs to finish out the story in grand style.

[anniebeemine]

Thank you again to @i-live-in-spite for the inspiration for this sister series!!

Spencer never imagined he'd end up where he was now. Dating had never been high on his list of priorities, not because he didn’t want companionship, but because his life was so full of books to be read, killers to be caught, and coffees to be drank that he couldn’t fathom making room for anything else. The thought of balancing a relationship on top of the demands of his job seemed impossible, and, truthfully, he didn't think he was any good at it. His few attempts had always been awkward at best, disastrous at worst.

And then Naomi came into his life.

He hadn’t planned for her—no, she was a surprise, a beautiful, unexpected surprise that turned his world upside down. Naomi was unlike anyone he had ever known. With her came responsibilities and joys he had never imagined he could handle. Suddenly, his priorities shifted. Dating, which had once been a distant thought, became even less of a consideration. How could he possibly think about going on dates or forming a relationship when he had someone as precious as Naomi to care for?

Spencer poured his energy into her, every waking moment spent ensuring she had everything she needed. He was meticulous in his efforts, seeking out the perfect books to nurture her curiosity, often losing himself in the shelves of libraries and bookstores. It was in one of those libraries that everything changed. He had been so focused on finding just the right book for Naomi, his legs burning from hours of squatting to reach the lower shelves, that he didn’t notice when she quietly wandered off, her tiny fingers brushing along the spines of books as if mimicking what she'd seen in movies.

Naomi’s tiny fingers danced along the spines of the books, her touch gentle but purposeful, as if she were an old soul lost in her own world. She wandered between the shelves, her bright eyes recognizing the occasional word. It was a small library, but to her, it felt like a kingdom of endless possibilities.

She spotted a thick book on a lower shelf, something about the cover drawing her in. She reached for it with determination, and after a bit of a struggle, she finally had it in her hands. Remembering what they had taught her at school, she fished a little wooden paint stick from her pocket—something she had picked up at a craft store with Spencer—and carefully slid it between the pages to hold her place. She was so engrossed in her task that she didn’t notice you watching her until you spoke.

“How old are you?” your voice was gentle, curious.

Naomi looked up, startled, finding you towering over her. She narrowed her eyes slightly, as if assessing whether you were friend or foe, then confidently replied, “Five. Names Naomi.”

You smiled, gently plucking the book from her hand before she could protest. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you saw the title. “I think ‘Twilight’ might be a little out of your age range.”

Naomi crossed her arms and pouted, her bottom lip jutting out defiantly. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh,” you retorted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You immediately felt a little silly, realizing you had just argued with a five-year-old. But Naomi seemed undeterred, her expression only growing more determined.

“It’s about vampires,” you added, trying to justify your point.

Naomi didn’t miss a beat. “I watch Vampirina on Disney Junior,” she countered, her voice full of the confidence only a child could muster.

You couldn’t help but laugh, charmed by her spunk. “Touché,” you conceded, handing the book back to her.

Naomi accepted it with a triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with victory. She turned on her heel and walked back toward the shelves, clutching the book to her chest like a prized possession. It was at that moment that Spencer finally caught up to her, his breath a little ragged from searching.

“She’s a handful, isn’t she?” you said, smiling as you watched Naomi carefully place the book on what you assumed to be their pile.

Spencer sighed with a mix of exasperation and relief, his eyes softening as they landed on Naomi. “You have no idea.”

But as he turned to you, his expression changed, something in your presence grounding him, making him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t in this alone. And in that moment, something shifted in him—a spark of connection, a flicker of hope that he hadn’t felt in years.

Spencer adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit that only seemed to kick in when he was truly flustered. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he stood there, searching for the right words to say. You were still smiling at him, that same kind smile that had sent his heart into a flutter moments earlier. He wasn’t used to this, to feeling so tongue-tied.

“So, um…” he began, shifting on his feet, “I, uh, I really appreciate you finding Naomi. She, uh, she can be quite adventurous.”

You waved off his thanks, your own cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh, it was nothing, really. She’s a sweetheart—very independent, I can tell.”

Spencer nodded quickly, eager to agree. “Yes, she’s… she’s definitely independent. A little too much sometimes,” he added with a soft chuckle.

The two of you stood there for a moment, each of you wanting to say something more but unsure of how to begin. The silence stretched on just long enough to make it awkward.

“So—” you both started at the same time, then stopped, laughing as you realized it.

“You first,” Spencer said quickly, gesturing for you to go ahead.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand as if to shoo his words toward you.

He shook his head, still smiling. “I insist, really, you—”

“Please,” you cut in, “I’m sure what you have to say is much more interesting.”

Spencer’s smile grew wider, his nerves melting away a little as he realized you were just as flustered as he was. “I highly doubt that,” he said, his tone playful. “But, okay, um… I just wanted to say that I think it’s really great how you… how you, uh, inter-“

Naomi’s groan cut him off, loud and dramatic, as she flopped onto the floor and rolled into a somersault. “Can we go now?” she whined, clearly unimpressed by the adult conversation.

You both turned to look at her, and then back at each other, trying not to laugh. Spencer, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, was the first to break the silence. “Right, of course… I should probably get her home.”

As you hurriedly scribbled your number on the back of a blank coloring sheet, you felt a rush of nervous excitement. You weren’t usually the type to make such bold moves, but something about Spencer—and maybe a little about Naomi—made you want to take a chance. You folded the paper carefully and called out to him just as he and Naomi were starting to walk away.

“Hey!” you said, catching his attention.

He turned, surprised, and you stepped closer, holding out the paper. “In case Naomi needs any more book recommendations,” you said with a smile that hinted at something more.

Spencer hesitated for a second, then took the paper from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in the process. “Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of gratitude and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name.

With a final nod, he and Naomi headed toward the checkout counter. As Spencer helped her place her chosen books on the counter, Naomi chattered away, completely unaware of the significance of the small piece of paper tucked into Spencer’s pocket.

The librarian rang up their books, and they were soon on their way, stepping out into the warm afternoon sun. Spencer’s mind was still buzzing from the encounter, the folded paper feeling like it weighed a ton in his pocket, even though it was light as air.

Naomi skipped beside him, her usual curiosity bubbling up as they walked. After a few moments of silence, she glanced up at him, her big eyes full of mischief. “Dad?”

He looked down at her. “Yes, Omi?”

“Are you in love?” she asked suddenly, her voice matter-of-fact, as if she were asking about the weather.

Spencer nearly tripped over his own feet, startled by the bluntness of the question. “W-what?” he stammered, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep shade of pink.

Naomi giggled, delighted by his reaction. “You’re blushing! That means yes!”

Spencer tried to regain his composure, shaking his head. “No, Naomi, it’s… it’s not like that. I’m just—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just—uh, it’s complicated.”

Naomi tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. “You like her,” she stated with the certainty of a child who had seen more than she let on.

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to deny it. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Naomi grinned, pleased with herself. “I knew it! You were looking at her all funny, like in the movies.”

Spencer sighed, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice. “Naomi, remember when we talked about inside thoughts?”

She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. “You’re no fun. Uncle Derek would find me funny.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Uncle Derek would have you running laps around the block if you kept that up.”

Naomi giggled at the thought, clearly imagining herself sprinting in circles while Derek cheered her on. “But then he’d take me for ice cream after.”

“Only if you promised not to spill the beans about his top-secret missions,” Spencer teased, knowing how Derek always framed his workouts as undercover ops to make them more exciting for Naomi.

Naomi stayed quiet for just a moment, thinking it over. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she looked up at Spencer. “So… are you gonna take me for ice cream?”

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief at how quickly she’d turned the tables on him. “Nice try, Naomi. We’re going home.”

“Rats,” she muttered, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But her disappointment didn’t last long. Naomi looked up at Spencer with a sly smile. “But maybe next time?”

Spencer chuckled, giving her a gentle nudge. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep all inside thoughts to yourself.”

Naomi grinned, a twinkle of mischief still in her eyes. “Deal.”

Spencer finally looked down at the stack of books in his hands, his brow furrowing as he noticed one of the titles. “Did we just check out Twilight?”

Naomi beamed up at him, completely unfazed. “Yup! You were too busy being in love to notice.”

Spencer groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Naomi, this is definitely not age-appropriate.”

“But I told you, I like vampires!” she protested, her eyes wide and pleading.

Spencer sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “Fine, but we’re reading it together, and I’m going to skip anything that isn’t suitable, okay?”

Naomi nodded eagerly, already imagining how much fun it would be to read with Spencer, even if he did skip the “good” parts.

[cure-orchid]

So I know the show recently ended, but I ended up binging through TGAMM and loved it! The Ghost Friends are all mood and the Mollie ship is adorable. Then I learned about the Chairman Ollie arc for the scrapped third season and IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO COOL TO SEE!

I ended up writing down how I would imagine the story arc going down, and I headcanon that several of the planned season 3 eps (minus the ones that would clash with the finale) happened between JVTHM and The End (Ollie knowing about the wraith memory loss and how he says it could have hinted that it already occurred.)

My Chairman Ollie plotline: It starts with what was outlined in the already written scripts, and Ollie keeps spending more and more time in the Ghost World rather than on Earth. He’s becoming a little more forgetful as the episodes pass and has noticeable headaches. Things like his parents having a Root Beer Bar or the plot of the latest Country Pumpkin movie seem to surprise him when he should already know about them.

He’s missed a few dates with Molly and slipping on schoolwork so she takes an episode trying to talk to him at school but he keeps getting pulled away to fix something as the Chairman. The episode would really drive in how his human memories are failing even when he reconnects with his body and there’s a whole musical number on how Molly feels he’s growing distant. She finally catches up to him in the end and he looks partway between normal and being an empty shell(his hair is even losing the swoop!). She asks him out for ice cream but then we get a wham line “Sure, but… who are you?” Molly’s heart literally breaks as she discovers Ollie has lost all memory of her. He excuses himself and leaves Molly crying with Scratch and Libby coming to console her.

Next episode the remaining Ghost Friends are trying to figure out what’s wrong with him when June comes to Molly’s house trying not to panic. Ollie’s shell came home yesterday but not his wraith and he’s still not back. Molly, Libby and Darryl go to the Chen’s while Scratch goes to the Ghost World to see what’s keeping him. He finds Ollie still obsessively trying to engoodify the Ghost World and his orange glow is much more faded. Worse, when Scratch calls him by his name he asks who Ollie is. Libby manages to discover a page in her pop-up book that was stuck to another and reveals wraiths can lose their memories the longer they spend away from their body and without the will to live they cannot fully rejoin the two halves. Scratch arrives and with all they know they make a plan. Molly, Scratch and the Chen’s go to the Ghost World while Darryl and Libby keep an eye on their bodies. They get to Ollie and he doesn’t recognize anyone but Scratch, but has no emotional attachment to him. Big musical number as they all try to help Ollie remember but it doesn’t work. Everyone is devastated and it seems like Ollie might be gone forever.

Molly doesn’t give up, she pulls down his hood and cups his face, (this is where the drawing is) telling Ollie that she loves him and gives him their first kiss. Her yellow sparks course through him and his orange glow regains it’s color… and he regains his memories. When they pull away, Olly says her name and he’s pulled into a group hug as he says everyone’s names. He leaves the robe and hurries back into his body. A few hours later it’s just him, Molly and Scratch when the ghost council arrives. I haven’t come up with what happens to the robe but Ollie does relinquish his title as chairman and Scratch pulls the council away. Now alone, Ollie didn’t get to say it back in the ghost world, but he loves Molly too. They have another kiss and lean their foreheads together afterwards… and then Scratch comes back complaining that they already sucked faces once today already.

Update 5/27: Yep, I’m turning this into a fanfic. I said I wouldn’t but I got the inspiration on how to do it! It’s called ‘Record of an Engoodifier’

Also bonus doodles:

[allisonbaelfire]

Amethyst. - PART 1

I heard a soft knock, followed by a cheerful “Wakey wakey,” and immediately recognized the voice of my older sister, Fuyumi. Despite having been awake for hours, my mind was still clouded with swirling thoughts, and the night patrols certainly didn’t help me get enough sleep.

I wasn’t in the mood to match Fuyumi’s chipper energy this morning. I lay there silently, listening as she cautiously peeked her head through my bedroom door to check if I had heard her. “Sleeping in today wouldn’t make a good impression, Y/N,” she said softly as she stepped into the room and noticed that I was already awake.

“Nervous?” she asked, sitting down beside me on the bed, her smile as gentle as ever.

I knew Fuyumi only had good intentions. She was a light in this house, and I was convinced she had never had a malicious thought in her life. At least, she never showed any outward sign of anger or bad moods. Fuyumi was the heart of our family, always there to try and keep us together. But despite her warmth, I could never bring myself to engage in deep conversations with her. She was everything I wasn’t: open, optimistic, and always willing to talk about her feelings.

I lay still, silent as usual, my mind too heavy to find the words. Fuyumi sensed my mood and chose not to press further. She stood, walking over to the heavy purple curtains hanging by the window, and pulled them open. Soft morning light spilled into the room, casting a warm glow that did little to lift the weight I felt pressing on me.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, just because Shoto might be,” Fuyumi said, her voice soft and understanding, with that same trace of concern she always had whenever Shoto’s name was mentioned.

Her words made my heart sink a little, but I appreciated the sentiment. Fuyumi had always been the anchor of our family, the one who kept us from completely falling apart when chaos loomed. She had this ability to see the good in everyone, even when the rest of us couldn’t see it in ourselves.

I glanced at her, and she gave me a small, knowing smile. There was a quiet pause, and I could see her hesitation. She wanted to say more but was wary of the delicate nature of the relationship between Shoto and me. Everyone knew it was a sensitive subject in the family, especially with our father constantly fanning the flames of rivalry between us.

Still, Fuyumi stepped closer and gently placed her hand on my head. Her touch was soft, reassuring. “You’ve saved and inspired so many people, Y/N. Maybe you could do the same for Shoto if you spend more time together—” she hesitated briefly, searching for the right words, “even if it’s just starting with going to school together.”

I felt the warmth of her hand, and for a moment, I let myself lean into it. Her words, as always, were filled with care and concern. She had so much hope for us—for Shoto and me—hope that things could get better. I wasn’t sure I shared that hope. Still, I couldn’t

help but think about what she said. Perhaps going to UA would give me a chance to get closer to Shoto, even if the idea of trying again made me anxious.

“Thank you,” I murmured, forcing a faint smile onto my face. Fuyumi returned it, but her expression shifted slightly when she noticed something in my eyes, a sudden realization dawning on me.

“Fuyumi!” I exclaimed, panic creeping into my voice as I hurriedly sat up. “I’m not a Pro-Hero anymore—I can’t put on my uniform… I don’t have any clothes!” My voice trailed off in frustration.

Fuyumi tried to suppress a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “You can borrow some of my clothes,” she said, amusement clear in her voice. “And if you don’t like them, I’m sure Natsuo can help,” she added with a grin.

Despite the ridiculousness of my outburst, I still felt uneasy. The thought of starting school again, after having been a Pro-Hero, felt strange and unsettling.

As though reading my thoughts, Fuyumi reassured me. “Y/N, at UA, you wear uniforms. I’ve already laid one out for you,” she smiled, pointing to the neatly folded outfit placed on the chair in the corner of my room.

I stared at the uniform, feeling a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. It was strange—after spending so long as a Pro-Hero, wearing a school uniform felt foreign, like I was taking a step backward. I had spent years fighting villains and working night shifts, far from the world of teenagers and classrooms. The idea of slipping back into that life, of being a student again, made my skin crawl. How was I supposed to fit in here?

“However, you’ll still need casual clothes. Looks like we’ll be going shopping together after school.” Fuyumi’s voice brought me back to the present, and though the thought of shopping wasn’t exactly appealing, I felt a small sense of relief knowing that she would be with me. I hadn’t kept up with what people my age wore, and I certainly didn’t know what I liked anymore. Her help would be a welcome guide through the confusion.

__________

After Fuyumi left the room to give me space to get ready, I slowly got dressed, slipping into my UA uniform. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me.

“What should I do with my hair?” I muttered, running my fingers through the strands. “Should I even bother doing anything with it?”

I rolled my eyes at myself, frustrated that I was stressing over something so trivial. I had faced down villains, saved lives, and yet here I was, standing in front of the mirror, worrying about my hair for school. How had it come to this?

In the end, I left my hair down, letting it fall naturally, and applied a light touch of makeup before deeming myself ready. As I stepped out of my room and made my way downstairs, I spotted Shoto by the door, already putting on his shoes. He didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge me, and that familiar sting of his coldness hit me again. I wasn’t sure why I expected anything different.

Fuyumi stood by the door, holding out my school backpack. “I packed some snacks for you,” she said with a smile. “But Shoto mentioned there’s a cafeteria too.”

I nodded in thanks, taking the bag from her hands. Fuyumi’s constant kindness was something I had come to rely on, even if I couldn’t always show it. I appreciated her efforts, even though the tension between Shoto and me was always a painful reminder of the broken pieces of our family.

We were lucky that the UA school bus stopped right outside our door. As Shoto and I boarded the bus, I overheard Natsuo’s voice from inside the house.

“Do you think those two will be okay?” Natsuo asked, his voice soft with concern as he watched us from the doorway.

I didn’t turn around, but I could feel his gaze on us as we boarded the bus. Shoto, as usual, chose to sit as far away from me as possible, taking a seat at the back.

_________

I sat near the middle, resting my head against the window. The city passed by in a blur as the bus moved along, but I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was too preoccupied. The reality of returning to UA after living the life of a Pro-Hero weighed heavily on me.

What am I even doing here?

The thought gnawed at me, louder with every passing second. I had worked so hard to earn my Pro-Hero license, and now it felt like I was starting over. Sure, it was a new rule that heroes had to attend school, but part of me couldn’t help but feel like I had failed somehow. Failed to live up to the expectations my father had set for me. Failed to maintain any real connection with my family—especially Shoto.

The ride was quiet. I could feel Shoto’s presence in the back, but it was like we were miles apart. I stole a glance over my shoulder, watching him as he stared out the window, completely distant. He hadn’t spoken to me once.

Maybe it’s better this way, I thought, turning back toward the front. What could I possibly say to him that would change anything?

We both carried the weight of our father’s expectations, a shadow that loomed over everything. I knew he resented it, just like I did, but breaking through to him felt impossible. Shoto had built his walls, and I had no idea how to tear them down.

We arrived at UA sooner than I had expected. The sight of the school gates brought back memories, but this time, things felt different. I had been here as a Pro-Hero before, fighting alongside others and working missions. Now, I was just a student again.

_____________

Klick here for: Amethyst. - Masterlist

[frostedfaves]

Stay the Night

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda came to Westview for a fresh start, but meeting someone new brings back old habits.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, magical mental manipulation (courtesy of Wanda), a bit of forced submission, implied masturbation and sex toy mention, other insinuated things (no questions please 🤠), kidnapping and blood mention, WandaVision AU that completely disregards Endgame to give WandaNat a real happy ending

A/N: it’s been literal months since the last time I posted anything, but I was determined to at least get this first part out eventually even if I only had 3 followers left. no idea what I’m doing going forward because so much has changed with me that I’m not even sure what I want to write, I just know I want to. anyway here’s the ask that inspired this

-

“Where are you headed, love?”

Wanda stops with her hand on the doorknob, the other gripping the handle of a can of paint with a brush resting on top. She carefully turns so as not to drop the unsecured item and acknowledges her wife from across the room.

“I’m going to fix the paint I chipped, Natalia.”

“You mean you aren’t going to wave your magic wand this time?” Natasha’s eyes are narrowed but her playful smile gives her away. “I never knew you were such a handywoman.”

“As if you’re so surprised about what my hands can do.”

The front door is closed behind Wanda, muffling whatever comeback Natasha was beginning to make, and she makes her way over to the corner of the house that didn’t match the rest. With careful strokes, the damaged area is covered in a brilliant shade of red, glistening in the sun as it begins to dry. She’s just about to head in when she hears a voice she doesn’t recognize followed by her neighbor’s door slamming closed and footsteps. Wandering across the lawn to get a better look, she notices a young woman sitting on the porch wearing shorts that are very similar to her overalls and a loose T-shirt with extra fabric that gets trapped between her stomach and thigh when she bends over to fix her shoe.

“Hey.”

You look up from your seat on the porch and notice a woman with reddish-orange hair studying you with hands slightly stained red resting on the fence. Her eyes glance between you and her hands and she quickly catches on, removing them with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m an artist…if you count repairing a scuffed wall as art.”

“Let’s see.” You stand and look over at the spot she was working on. “Yeah, I’d pay to see it in a museum.”

Her laugh causes you to grin as you approach her from the other side of the fence, placing your own hands just an inch or two from where hers used to be as you introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Wanda.” She makes a movement to shake your hand and quickly changes her mind when she catches sight of her own again. “I’m not usually this forgetful, dear. Anyway, I was wondering if you were new to the neighborhood. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Technically, although I don’t live here. My friend just moved in and I thought I’d visit her now that she’s all set.” You lean in just a bit closer and slightly lower your voice. “She wouldn’t even let me take off work until she had every room unpacked and organized. I made a joke that she wanted to set up her sex dungeon first so I wouldn’t accidentally find any of her tools and she didn’t like it very much.”

“She probably shouldn’t come to our house then,” Wanda teases but your brows raise slightly.

“Our?”

“Yes, I live with my wife. Actually, we haven’t met your friend either. Would the two of you like to come over for dinner later? We’d love to welcome her to the neighborhood properly.”

“I think I can talk her into it.” You turn toward the house when you hear your name called through a cracked window and quickly face Wanda again. “I have to go but I’ll–we’ll–see you tonight?”

“Anytime after 7 works for us. I might go a bit overboard but I promise it won’t be anything fancy. You could even wear pajamas if you want,” she offers and you laugh.

“Be careful or I might take you up on that. Okay, see you then!” You disappear into the house again with an enthusiastic wave as Wanda supervises before heading into her own home to share the news with her loving partner.

“So you invited this anonymous new neighbor and her friend over for dinner…tonight?” Natasha repeats and Wanda nods in response. “May I ask why you suddenly want two strangers in our home?”

“One of the strangers is really cute,” Wanda pouts as she grabs Natasha’s hands, allowing herself to be led over to the sink to have the paint washed off her skin.

“Meaning?”

“New pet,” she admits, growing nervous when Natasha freezes mid scrub.

“No.”

“But Nat–”

“Don’t ‘but Nat’ me, Wanda,” the redhead mocks as she continues scrubbing. “I let you try this already and it didn’t work.”

“I think you’ll like her too.”

“I doubt it.”

“But what if she’s really good? Really obedient? I heard you like that.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve never experienced it.”

“Rude.” Wanda lightly nudges her away with her hip and reaches for the paper towels. “I’m just saying…don’t let one bad apple ruin the bunch or whatever that saying is. Don’t you think it’d be fun to have something new to play with?”

“I’m assuming you’ve already given her a test run then.”

“Not yet.” Wanda returns to Natasha’s side with a paper towel for her hands and drops her head onto her shoulder. “I figured you might want to help me.”

-

You ring the doorbell at exactly 7:01, hoping Sheri will take your subtle but constant movements as nerves and not excitement to see Wanda again. You had no idea what her wife was like or if she’d even like you, then again you barely knew Wanda either. What you were hoping to get out of this gathering was also still a mystery.

“You’re here! Welcome to our home!” Wanda greets you cheerily as she opens the door and you go to respond with the same level of excitement, instead driving an elbow into Sheri’s side when you notice her staring at the older pair.

“Sorry…No one told me I was having dinner with two Avengers.”

“Technically we’re not Avengers anymore,” a woman replies behind Wanda and she steps aside to reveal her wife, you’re assuming. “Natasha, but I’m guessing you knew that already.”

“So why did you leave the team?” Sheri inquires as she follows Natasha to the dining room and Wanda closes the door behind her, and you don’t miss the way she subtly guides you for a second with a gentle hand on your back.

“I don’t know. Something about half the world disappearing for five years really just…”

“...wears you out?” Wanda suggests as she pulls your chair out for you and Natasha shakes her head.

“I was going to say it makes me want to isolate myself from everything and everyone I’ve ever known, but yes, that too.” She takes a seat and begins pouring wine into a glass. “I wanted to go a bit further than New Jersey, but I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed my time here.”

“Do you mind telling me more about this place?” you ask once Wanda is done serving everyone and takes a seat across from you. “If it sounds good, maybe I’ll move too.”

You were partially joking but something about Wanda’s eyes suddenly brightening and even Natasha’s sudden interest in your statement made you want to consider the possibility.

“What would you like to know?”

-

Two hours later, the room is filled with laughter in response to the latest joke passed around the table. Dinner was even more enjoyable than you imagined it could be, the four of you talking nonstop between bites of food. The atmosphere was so energetic that you were genuinely surprised when Sheri yawned and stood up suddenly.

“I just want to say that I’ve had so much fun over here and I’m so glad you were the first neighbors I met. I hope you won’t be mad if I head home now, though.”

“So soon?” you pout and she sighs.

“I know, but I’m exhausted from all the preparation I did before you came. You’re welcome to stay here though, if you both don’t mind,” she adds with a glance at the hosts, and they both grin.

“Of course we don’t mind!” Natasha speaks up before Wanda can, rising to a stance as well. “After all, we did promise her a movie night. Who says that can’t be tonight?”

“We’re also still in the process of convincing her to move,” Wanda adds.

“Okay, well…You know where the spare is but if you forget, my ringer will be on.”

You all exchange goodbyes with Sheri while Natasha walks her out, even making sure she’s inside before returning to the table. Wanda waves off your attempt to help her clear the table in the meantime and Natasha takes a seat next to you.

“So…how about that movie?”

“Sure! I just have to run to the bathroom and then we can start.”

“No, you can wait.” You raise your brows with a laugh that’s cut short when her hand on your thigh stops you from getting up. “If you think I’m joking, you’re wrong. You’ll go when we say so. Got it?”

After a couple seconds you silently nod. She clears her throat and you almost immediately realize what she wants from you.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver travels down your spine as her fingertips lightly drag across your thigh before she stands, offering the same hand to you which you accept instantly. She leads you into a different room with a couch sitting in front of a projector aimed at the only wall that’s completely empty. Wanda appears a minute later with glasses of water and a blanket that she spreads across your laps once she’s settled. After the projector is set up, each woman scoots closer and rests her head against her hand, elbows pressed into the couch behind you as the movie is played.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since the movie started, but at some point you notice your bathroom need has become a little more urgent. One of your legs begins to bounce under the blanket and shortly after, Wanda grabs your chin and turns your head toward her, pushing the rim of a glass to your lips.

“Open,” she quietly commands and you obey, reluctantly swallowing the water she carefully pours in. “Good girl.”

The water only touches the halfway mark of the glass now but you feel twice as full. Your attention strays from the movie as your leg bounces even faster now, and you’re practically holding back whimpers with the effort of trying not to piss your pants on the couch. It’s almost to the point where you think that might be your only option when Natasha leans just a bit closer to whisper in your ear.

“Go. You have our permission.”

Wanda throws the blanket aside before you can try to unscramble your thoughts to figure out how to do so yourself, and you follow the path you remember Sheri taking earlier in the night down the hall to the bathroom. You finally sit down and let out a sigh of relief that turns into a gasp when you feel a bit of cum slipping out of you as well. This is a sudden development that you don’t think you have the time or clarity to explore.

Instead, you return to the couch to finish the movie, releasing a very real yawn as the credits roll that prompts the two older women to call it a night. Natasha begins to clean up as Wanda walks you home, that same guiding hand resting on your back the whole way there.

“Thank you so much for coming over tonight, lovely,” she speaks quietly in the still air of the night, a warm smile appearing under the porch light. “Promise to come back soon?”

“Of course,” you answer pretty quickly, surprising yourself. “Although I don’t want to just abandon Sheri. She’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“She’s welcome too, sweet girl. We loved her company as well.” Wanda squeezes your hand and places her palm on your cheek for just a moment, admiring the way you lean into her before she pulls away. “Now get inside and rest for me, please.”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight, Wanda.”

You grab the spare key from its hiding spot and let yourself in, locking the door behind you and watching through one of the front windows as Wanda makes her way back home. Sheri’s loud snores are easily heard over whatever show she fell asleep on, and you carefully close her bedroom door to muffle the sound a bit as you make your way to your room. After changing into something more suitable for bed and grabbing your favorite toy from your suitcase, you turn on your own TV and settle under the covers with thoughts of your temporary neighbors helping you get off.

“You were gone so long I thought you tucked her in for the night,” Natasha greets Wanda as she comes in, and she laughs.

“Not yet, but we’ll get there.” Wanda approaches Natasha slowly and places her hands on her shoulders, taking her time until she can lock their fingers together. “I’ve never known you to be jealous before.”

“Well I did want a bit more time with her but she can’t be rushed. You’re right; she seems very sweet and…obedient.”

“Does that mean we can keep her?” Wanda blinks rapidly with a little pout and cheers when Natasha nods. “You won’t regret it, I promise. We’re going to train her so well.”

“I’m guessing that means you already have a plan to get her to stay.”

-

The next morning, you head into the bathroom to shower and go through your whole routine while replaying last night in your head. You finally resurface once you’re fully dressed, genuinely surprised when Sheri isn’t plating breakfast or waiting with her car keys in hand to go pick something up.

“Sher-bear, you’re the early riser in our duo,” you tease as you head toward her bedroom. “And you’re always hungry in the morning so why aren’t you–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as you open her door, met with the startling scene of glass covering her twisted bedsheets, knocked in from the broken window. What scares you even more is the couple of spots on the carpet stained with either smeared or drops of blood. You run back to your room and grab your phone to call the police, deciding you’ll feel safer doing so in the presence of two Avengers. You’re banging frantically on their front door in less than a minute, not caring how crazy you look with tears streaming down your cheeks and staining your sleeve as you attempt to wipe them away.

“Sweet girl, what’s going on?” Wanda immediately questions as she pulls you through the doorway, giving a quick look outside before locking the door behind you. “Are you alright? Where’s Sheri?”

“She’s gone,” you begin sobbing at the mention of your best friend’s name.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Natasha inquires while entering the room, placing her hands on your shoulders as Wanda rubs your back in an attempt to calm you. “What did you see?”

“I think someone broke in and kidnapped her. The window was smashed in and there was blood on the carpet and a few things knocked over too. I was going to call the police but I thought I should come here first in case someone was still there.”

“You did the right thing by coming to us, love.” Natasha walks out of the room for a second and returns with a gun in hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” Wanda offers, though her arm is wrapped around your shoulders now.

“No, I’ll be fine. She needs protection here in case there is still a lingering threat.”

“Be careful.” Wanda locks the door behind her, adjusting her robe as she returns to you and you can’t help glancing once at her partially covered bare chest. “Come on, let’s get you some tea to calm your nerves a bit.”

Natasha hides her weapon until she’s inside Sheri’s home, approaching her bedroom and assessing it for a moment from the doorway before closing it up again. She pulls on a pair of gloves and unlocks the basement door, heading down the stairs and silently approaching the soundproofed room.

Sheri’s head is leaning back against the same wall that the chair she’s in is resting on, her arms and legs tied to it, eyes and ears covered and mouth gagged. Natasha quickly pours a glass of water and watches a pill dissolve into it before approaching Sheri. She carefully removes the gag and forces her jaw open with a gloved hand, using the water to muffle her panicked cries and shushing her when she chokes slightly.

“We’re gonna need you to stay quiet for just a little bit longer if this is going to work.”