#so I've decided to do an extremely on-brand one

[cryptomiracle]

more creepypasta headcanons

(+ marble hornets)

WARNINGS:

Ooc? Idk

I started this at 2 am and you can tell

Cursing

I write on my phone so the format may be a little weird

Any brands, games, or characters mentioned in this do NOT belong to me, nor am I sponsored by them in any way.

This is very unserious, I've noticed that a lot of my other hcs usually take a "dark" turn and so I decided to make some that didn't.

You could even say they're a bit... silly.

You should totally check out my masterlist for more hcs (it's pinned)

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Characters: masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, and BEN DROWNED.

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Jeff:

he's extremely hard headed, he WILL argue/fight with someone over the dumbest things and he'll never stop arguing, even if he knows the other person is right.

He has an "emo accent"

He likes to start drama between people, and then leave the crime scene.

He is so ashy you could strike a match off of his elbow

He's been wearing the same beat up converse since 2012, them things are being held together by duct tape and a prayer.

His favorite animal is a raccoon, he says they're sneaky and nocturnal like him.

He refuses to get a new phone, he won't even steal one.

He curses all the time just cause he can, sometimes he'll even jumble random curse words together.

BEN:

He listens to vocaloid and he doesn't play about miku

He runs one of those "rage bait" accounts that are painfully obviously bait

Still quotes old memes and refuses to let them die

Example: yeet, t-posing, and "sanic the hedgehog"

He scams old people on Facebook and e-daters, he doesn't feel bad about it either.

He uses the money he gets from scamming to buy v-bucks and overwatch coins

He once doxxed someone for dissing miku

slender had to take away his mic privileges because he was keeping everyone up at night by yelling bloody murder at people on fortnite/overwatch

once showed up at someones house because they emoted on him after killing him in game

Toby:

He vapes, and thinks he's so cool cause he can do "vape tricks" and he makes people watch him while he does them

Someone once gave him apple cider, told him it was alcohol, and he pretended to be drunk.

His phone gallery is filled with random photos, like there'll be a low quality picture of a tree and then right beside it a picture of a ceiling. Just random stuff

Mint chocolate chip ice cream enjoyer

He's really flexible, although he has bad posture he can do back bends, the splits, etc

more on his terrible posture; when he sits he literally looks like this: ) )

When he first started working for slenderman, he REFUSED to live in the manor and lived outside. While he lived outside he became friends with a lot of the wildlife, slender eventually made him move into the manor because there was a rumor that toby was going to make a "possum army" and try to overthrow slender

He will fight anyone and anything he really doesn't care about his, or their well-being.

Had a "weeb" phase when he was in middle school and he still has nightmares about "naruto running" away from his bullies.

Hoodie:

He can make a killer sandwich (lol) he's not the best at cooking other things, but if you get him to make you a sandwich, he'll bless your taste buds.

He loves karaoke, he can't sing for shit but he still does it anyway

He acts like a millennial (I'm sorry) not to the point where it's completely unbearable, but he will send people "relatable memes" every now and then

He enjoys online arguments, he'll never participate but he will scroll through different threads of people arguing for hours on end

He likes for people to say stuff like "GO WHITE BOY GO" to him

He blushes when he lies, he's a scarily good liar but if you ever want to catch him in a lie, point out the fact that his cheeks are red.

Whenever he has a drink with a straw, he holds the straw in-between his tooth gap.

he sends streaks.

Masky:

He has a NASTYYY side eye, and sometimes he'll scrunch up his nose while side eyeing someone just to make it sting even more

Contemplated getting a mullet once, he never went through with it though.

He coughs like someone's grandfather who smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for 40 years

If someone says a word that reminds him lf a song he likes, it'll automatically get stuck in his head and he'll hum it all day after that.

he isn't weak when it comes to stinky smells, but if it's stinky enough to make him gag he's extremely overdramatic.

he learned how to sew because of how much he ripped his jeans, shirts, etc.

Sleeps so hard sometimes people think he's dead, he'll just be laying there looking casket ready but everyone is too scared to check on him cause he gets super grumpy when woken up.

he always keeps a little money hidden somewhere, even if it's just a 5 dollar bill.

he's superstitious, if he sees you attempt to walk under a ladder he will physically drag you back and make you walk around it.

he has a pair of brass knuckles which he only saves for "special occasions" they're his favorite things ever, he even named them.

he only uses his phone to call, text, or search something up, and that's it.

he doesn't even have YouTube installed.

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I will be reading over this to check for any errors, ty for reading - M

[hidefdoritos]

Patch on a Pocket

Hello everyone! I'm back with my latest DIY: fixing a cargo pocket that tore out.

I had my work ID badge in this pocket, and I caught it on a truck door. It's a messy tear! When I was brand new to mending, I would've given up. But I have two options: unpick this pocket and use it as a template for a replacement, or try a patch. I tried the patch.

Step one: Clean up the fuzzy edges.

Hmm. Yeah, since chunks of the original fabric are missing, I can't whip the edges back together. I need a patch.

If I'd actually torn the shorts fabric, I'd have put a patch on the inside and another patch on the outside, so the raw edges would be encased in a "patch sandwich." However, this is just the pocket. The inside of the mend doesn't have to withstand the washing machine. I decided instead to...

Step 2: Whipstitch around the tear.

I don't like the look of a whipstitch on a tear, and in my experience, when done on the outside, it disintegrates in the wash. But for the inside of a pocket, it's actually fine. I used marigold thread because I hate the color and have too much of it.

Step three: Prep a patch that's bigger than the tear.

I measured a 4-by-4 square-ish and pinned it flat onto the moving box that's protecting my carpet. Then I used my nail polish brush and my white mystery paint to paint a spiderweb. I've been inspired by goths lately, I guess.

Step four: Hem the patch.

This one isn't necessary--you can do it while you affix the patch--but I just got my machine back from the shop and wanted to try it out.

Step four point five: Pin the patch to the pocket.

I didn't measure well for the patch, and I'm extremely lucky that it just barely covers all the tear. Also I stuck scrap cardboard in the pocket so I couldn't actually sew it shut.

Step 5: Sew on and admire!

Here's the finished look! It took me a few hours (longer than making a new pocket would've taken), but I like it a lot. I did a few tiny stitches on the inside to keep that big corner of the tear anchored to the patch. I also put a few studs on the shorts because why not!

[bloodylullaby]

Pairing: Noah x Reader

Word Count: 1886

MasterList

Author's Note: A continuation of If You're There ALSO - Let me know how you like this; I've been battling whether to keep doing cute things like this (I don't see as many cute things) or try to branch out to other things.

It’s finally happened. Noah finally realized that he was extremely burnt out and running on fumes, which led him to cancel his highly anticipated European tour. You had seen this coming for months but couldn’t convince him to take time for himself due to his relentless work ethic and a one-track mind. Despite your best efforts, his hard-working drive kept him pushing forward until he could no longer ignore the exhaustion.

Even though Noah is finally home, you haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks and have barely heard from him, which is unusual and increasingly concerning. You start to worry more and more, as you have never seen him in such a state before. His silence and isolation are alarming, making you realize just how serious his condition might be. With all the times Noah has gone out of his way to help you out of a rut, you know deep down that it's time to return the favor and be there for him. Today, you decide that you are going to go over to his house and show him so much love and support that he has no choice but to get better. You are determined to help him through this challenging period with your unwavering presence and care.

You pack two giant tote bags of things you know he enjoys, hoping to lift his spirits. One of the bags is stuffed with his favorite sweets, treats, and drinks, from gourmet chocolates and artisanal cookies to his preferred craft soda brand. You even include a few savory snacks that he always raves about. The other bag is filled with items that hold personal significance, things of yours that you know will help him feel more comfortable and connected. Among these is the stuffed animal he won for you at a carnival last summer, a cherished memento of happier times. You spray your signature scent on it, ensuring it carries the comforting fragrance that reminds him of you. Additionally, you include a cozy blanket you've often shared on movie nights and a couple of your favorite books he has shown interest in. You hope these familiar items will create a sense of warmth and closeness, even in your physical absence.

On your way to his house, you stop by the store and pick up a video game that he’s been wanting but has always been too busy to grab and play. Once you secure it, you continue to his house, hoping this small gesture will brighten his day. When you walk up to the house, you are greeted by Nicholas with a warm smile. He steps aside and lets you in, welcoming you with a friendly, reassuring nod. As you go to Noah’s room, you exchange greetings with the others in the house, receiving sympathetic looks and encouraging words. The familiar surroundings and friendly faces bolster your resolve as you approach Noah’s door, ready to offer him the comfort and support he desperately needs.

With a gentle knock, you enter his room and are greeted by a messy space, clothes strewn about, and empty bottles scattered on the floor. Closing the door behind you, you step further into the room, spotting Noah lying in bed, his hair gently poking out from the cocoon he has rolled himself into. You carefully set everything down by his gaming chair, ensuring not to make too much noise. Quietly, you walk over to his bed and gently sit on the edge next to him, trying not to cause too much of a stir as the bed dips under your weight. You rake your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness under your touch, and he begins to stir slightly, a faint sign of awareness.

“Baby?” he murmurs slowly, sleep evident in his voice. You gently hum in response and watch as he slowly turns toward you. Your heart breaks a little when you see his face—heavy bags under his eyes and a look of brokenness that makes you want to cry. But you hold it together, giving him a small smile that he tries to return. Without warning, he pulls you down so that you are lying beside him, placing his head on your sternum and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso. You feel his grip, desperate and seeking comfort, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, hoping to provide the solace he needs.

As you hear sniffling, your shirt starts to feel damp. You rub little circles on his back and let him cry, offering silent comfort. His body trembles with each sob, and you can feel the weight of his sorrow pressing against you. “Why am I like this?” he asks, his voice cracking with pain and confusion. Your heart shatters at his words, the anguish in his question tearing at your soul. You hold him tighter, wishing you could somehow absorb his hurt and make it disappear.

"It's okay, baby," you whisper, your voice soothing and steady. "Everyone goes through tough times. It's not your fault." You continue to rub his back, the repetitive motion a small but comforting gesture. His grip on you tightens as if he's afraid you'll vanish if he lets go. "You're not alone," you murmur, kissing the top of his head. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He cries harder, the dam of his emotions entirely breaking, and you can feel the full force of his despair. You just hold him, knowing that sometimes words aren't enough, and the best thing you can do is be there, offering your unwavering support and love. "We'll get through this together," you promise, your voice filled with conviction. "One step at a time."

As time passed, his sobs lessened, gradually becoming soft sniffles. You continued to hold him, your fingers gently caressing his back, until he finally calmed down. Once he was done crying, he lifted his head and looked at you with red, tear-stained eyes. “I love you to the moon and back,” he murmured, his voice tender and filled with emotion.

You leaned down and gently kissed him, pouring all your love and reassurance into that moment. "I love you more than anything," you whispered back, your words a heartfelt promise. He nestled back into your arms, and you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, both finding solace in the shared silence.

“What’s in the bags?” he asked, his curiosity piqued, causing you to giggle.

"I brought you some surprises," you say with a smile. You gently extricate yourself from his embrace and reach over to the bags you had placed by his gaming chair. "One of these is full of your favorite sweets, treats, and drinks," you explain, pulling out a bag of his favorite candies and a bottle of his preferred soda. "I know how much you love these."

He watches with a faint smile as you continue. "And in this bag," you say, lifting the second tote, "are some things to make you feel more comfortable." You pull out the stuffed animal he won for you at the carnival, now freshly sprayed with your signature scent. "I thought this might help you feel a little better," you say, handing it to him. 

You also pull out a cozy blanket and two books you love. "And I made a stop on the way here," you add, pulling out the video game he's been wanting. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "You always know how to make things better."

You smile and give him another kiss. "That's what I'm here for," you say softly. He sits up entirely and stretches, the tension in his body starting to ease. Getting up, he pulls you into a warm hug, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

Eventually, Noah lets go and turns his attention to the bags. With a newfound energy, he starts pulling everything out, his eyes lighting up with each item. "This is amazing," he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he inspects the sweets, treats, and stuffed animals.

When he gets to the video game, his excitement is palpable. "I can't believe you got this!" he exclaims, looking at you with gratitude and joy. "This is exactly what I needed."

You smile, feeling a warmth in your heart at seeing him so happy. "I thought we could have a fun-filled night," you say. "We can play the game, eat some snacks, and relax together."

Noah nods eagerly, his earlier sadness starting to fade. "That sounds perfect," he says, and you can see the spark of his old self returning. 

As he sets up the game, you both make yourselves comfortable on his bed, surrounded by the remnants of the snacks you brought. After a little while of playing together, you decide to take a break and opt to watch him for a while. Grabbing the blanket you brought over, you drape it over yourselves for extra coziness. You also grab one of the books from the bag, intending to take turns between reading and watching him play. As he navigates through the game, you find yourself engrossed in the story, occasionally glancing up to see his reactions to different challenges or victories.

You offer verbal support whenever he encounters challenging situations, your words of encouragement ringing out in the room, echoing his determination to overcome obstacles. When he finally manages to defeat a particularly demanding boss, you can't help but join in his celebration, the room filled with shared laughter and triumphant cheers as you revel in his success together.

As the night wears on and the hour grows later, Noah decides to take a break from gaming and suggests transitioning to a movie instead. With a smile, he guides you to the bed, where you both settle in comfortably amidst the plush blankets and pillows, sinking into a cocoon of warmth and relaxation. Noah orders a pizza, ensuring it's topped with all your favorite ingredients, and arranges an array of snacks and drinks within arm's reach, creating a cozy haven for the two of you to enjoy. The room is enveloped in the comforting aroma of freshly baked pizza, and the soft glow of the screen casts a warm light as you snuggle up together.

Observing Noah's mood shifting more positively fills your heart with relief and happiness. The weight of his earlier struggles seems to dissipate, replaced by a lightness and ease that brings a genuine smile to both your faces. In this moment, surrounded by superficial pleasures and each other's company, you find solace in the shared moments of peace and contentment. As the movie plays softly in the background, you both sink deeper into the comfort of the bed, the warmth of each other's presence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. The worries and stresses of the outside world fade away, leaving only the tranquility of the present moment.

Eventually, the day's fatigue catches up with you both, and you find yourselves drifting off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. The soft rhythm of your breathing syncs harmoniously, creating a symphony of peace that washes over you both, carrying you into a restful slumber filled with nothing but serenity and love.

[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

[aragaki]

Darlin/Guy thoughts

I've read all of domini_moonbeam's Darlin' content and it's widened my scope for non-canon Darlin' pairings more than ever before. So, Darlin' x Pizza Guy, yeah?

I see their meet-cute being by a dumpster and I'm not kidding. Guy is working a closing shift with Rosa, long into the night and when Rosa seems nervous about going by herself out in the dark Guy volunteers to take the trash out himself.

Darlin' had been fighting again that night, as they often do. They found some vamps they recognized as Quinn's friends and shifted to take them on. They ran off after a short scrap, they got a few bites off Darlin' and they decided to duck into some alley to recover their stamina before making their way home - and ended up passing out.

This is how Guy finds them, passed out and bleeding, and is terrified he just stumbled on a crime scene but Darlin' wakes up and when they catch his eye, he just freezes. It's like being a rabbit caught in the sight of a predator. A very, very, extremely hot predator, but a predator nonetheless.

Darlin' brushes off his offer to call the police and tries to stand, wanting to get the hell out before they fuck up and break covert but Guy,,, isn't letting them run off. He makes them come inside, whips them up something to eat while assuring Rosa that everything is fine and she can head out. Something about the way the Darlin' is acting, hunching their shoulders and making themselves smaller, is hurting Guy. Like they don't know how to let themselves accept the smallest bit of kindness.

He makes them promise to keep coming back. He gets the feeling they don't feed themselves enough and even though pizza hasn't been formally inducted into the basic food groups it's gotta be better than nothing. And to his surprise, they do!! They come back randomly, without a pattern, but he never goes long without seeing his odd new friend. Darlin' is even more surprised than he is that they keep coming back.

Darlin' can't help but wonder if they're projecting their unempowered friend onto him. A friend that they can't see any more after Quinn's attack. Their memories were wiped and they can't risk them resurfacing and breaking covert. But Guy is nothing like their friend so that theory dies out quickly. Really, there's no one like Guy in Dahlia. He's his own special brand of chaos.

David is expecting to have the same problems with Darlin' that he did with Asher. He's fully expecting Darlin' to avoid the courses, break covert, and just shift for their human to get it done. But they don't. They attend all the classes, they do all the boring paperwork that they hate, wait for the confirmation, they do everything perfectly to Department standards. Darlin' has had so much in their life go wrong, constantly, they want this to go well. Just once. They want to have something good, this one time.

But once all the awful desk work is done, they do just shift for Guy to get it over with. Their patience has hit 0 and they just want to have him know them already, to share this part of themselves with the first partner they've had that makes them feel safe. And Guy reacts the exact way you'd expect but he adjusts fast. Absolutely makes an omegaverse comment and does psychic damage to Darlin'.

The pattern of unempowered human mates to powerhouse wolves also isn't lost on David. First himself, then Ash, now Darlin'. It feels like the Shaw pack's strongest wolves can't help themselves much to his begrudging amusement.

Darlin' is worried about having someone unempowered so close to them again. They weren't able to protect their friend, only save them after Quinn had already hurt them. They don't want that to happen to Guy, it would break them to fail a loved one again. They can't help but spiral but Guy is there to wrap his arms around Darlin' and remind them that this time is different.

They have a family, their pack, there to help them, they know what Quinn can do this time. They can help. They will help. He's safe and he trusts Darlin' and the pack so much.

Guy makes Darlin' ugly laugh. Not amused huffs or chuckles, full teary-eyed belly laughs that they can't control no matter how hard they try. If he's lucky, he might get them to snort and he'd brag about it for the rest of the day.

The first time the pack heard it, it almost brought everything to a standstill. Darlin' has never laughed like that. Not even before Quinn. No one knew that Darlin' was even capable of sounding that happy, as bleak as it was to realize. That simple fact wins Guy a boatload of points with the pack.

Guy recognizes Asher at his first pack meeting as one half of the couple with the huge dog and connects the dots instantly. That's how David ends up finding out that Ash let an unempowered human see him shifted, didn't report it, all to get out of answering the door.

Despite revealing his secret to the big man, Ash and Guy get along like a house on fire, and Darlin' and Babe always feel like they're third-wheeling when they all get together.

Once the term "mates" has been established for their relationship, Guy says it more than anyone else in the pack. It's always "my mate", "I'm Darlin's mate" and so on. Using that word makes Darlin's core light up, it gives them a spoonful of euphoria and he knows that. He basically has a dopamine button for his grumpy wolf and has no shame in using it and the bitten-back smile and duck of their chin lets him know they don't mind it either.

Angel, Babe, Sweetheart, and Guy are all menaces. This is established in their personalities by Mr. Erik Redacted himself so when they're all in the same place??? At the same time??? Together??? Their mates are taken for a ride, except for Asher who is on Team Menace. Which leaves poor David, Darlin', and Milo to weather their combined shenanigans.

Guy takes care of Darlin' especially when they move in together. In the same place, Guy can do better for them than pizza, which he finds out they eat way too much of. Darlin' can't cook, and hardly thinks of themselves worth the effort to try, so they order in way more than they should. Luckily for them, Guy is anything but helpless in the kitchen and before they know it, almost every meal they have is homecooked. Even leftovers are stored away in the freezer for the moments that Guy doesn't feel like cooking or Darlin' doesn't wanna wait.

Loving Guy is easy. He makes them feel happy and safe, something they didn't even know they were capable of experiencing. Darlin' makes Guy feel heard and appreciated, in a way he wasn't expecting.

[justmeinadaze]

Hi! I’m 23 but requesting anonymously because this is a similar situation I experienced and wished someone would have been there for me.

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Steddie x reader story where the reader recently lost her grandma who she lived with in a two bedroom apartment. It’s left the reader financially strapped and she posts an ad for a roommate. Steve and Eddie are looking for a place and sees the ad. Steve is a nurse and Eddie is a mechanic or masseuse (two extremes but I feel like Eddie is always a mechanic lol).

The reader is really withdrawn and struggling with grief because her grandma was all she had. She is working two jobs and not taking care of herself. She wears herself out and gets sick. She’s really resistant to letting anyone take care of her. And she doesn’t talk to Steve and Eddie much because she’s trying to hide her struggles and doesn’t want to bother them. And it’s an adjustment to living with other people. Steve and Eddie have a huge soft spot for the reader and want to take care of her.

There can be smut or no smut in this or if it would happen to turn into two or more parts! You’re a talented writer so I have no doubt you will write this beautifully!

A/N: It took me awhile to get to this because it struck a cord with me. I get this. I am this minus a Steve and Eddie.

I think I've mentioned it before but my father suddenly passed away 10 years ago and it destroyed me. I still deal with the aftermath of that to this day. Not only do I struggle with that grief but I struggle with how I was and have been treated which is why I am a big advocate on taking the time to feel what you feel and no matter what anyone says THERE IS NO TIME LIMIT ON GRIEF.

The doctor experience I write in this story happened to me and the chaos of that...I can't even... But yeah...more than anything I want anyone who's grieving a loved one to know, you are not alone, you are not broken, your feelings are valid, and I love you <3.

The title of this comes from "Guernica" by Brand New. I was thinking of this song when I got the request because the lead singer wrote it for his grandfather who was sick in the hospital.

P.S. I am more than willing to write another part to this. I wanted to focus on the emotional aspect more than a smutty aspect for this first part.

Warnings: Topic of Grief and loss of a family member, panic attack mentioned in slight detail, Steve and Eddie have an established relationship here.

"I submit no excuse

If this is what I have to do

I owe you every day I wake

If I could I would shrink myself

Sink through your skin to your blood cells

Remove whatever makes you hurt

But I am too weak to be your cure

Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?

I am the watch you always wear but you forget to wind."

“So, um, yeah the rent is $1300 including utilities and it’s due on the first of the month. You can leave it on the counter here and I can take it down to make the payment.”

Watching them go through her room was like being stabbed in the chest. When your grandmother passed, a part of you died with her and it killed you even more when you had to slowly begin removing things from her room to make space for a new roommate. Your grandma was your everything basically being a mother to you when everyone else disappeared. When she got sick it, it was no brainer to have her move in so you could look out for her with as much love and care as she had you growing up. 

For four years, she fought her disease until heaven decided it was time for her to go home. After that you began to spiral and not just personally but within life. When did everything become so expensive? Even in your rent-controlled apartment, you could barely afford the bills because everything else around you escalated to the point where now you couldn’t even take out a small loan to get groceries because your credit was so fucked up. 

You didn’t want to get a roommate and avoided the notion as long as possible but when it was becoming harder and harder to live day to day, you finally gave in. 

You were surprised when a boy answered your ad you had placed in the paper but when he told you their story, you couldn’t help but sympathize. 

“Yeah, my boyfriend and I are looking for a nice, safe place. The small town we were living in was already harassing him for the way he looks but when they found out we were together… I knew I needed to get us both out of there.”

“We can take it if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of everything.”, the pretty boy who introduced himself as Steve responded as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“I mean it’s no problem. I work a couple of jobs so I usually leave pretty early anyway.”

“Me to. Well, it’s more like me coming in early because I work overnights from time to time. I’m not sure if the hospital over here is the same but… yeah. What, um, what do you think, babe?”

The longhaired boy who told you his name was Eddie beamed widely your way.

“I love it. Are you sure we won’t be bothering you, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, we swear.”

“No. No bother.”

Both men glance towards each other at your sullen tone before Steve extended his hand towards you with an equal large but soft smile of his own. 

“We’ll take it.”

***

You didn’t anticipate how hard it was going to be having someone in the apartment again let alone people that reminded you of her. Before she retired, your grandmother was a nurse and when the scent of hand sanitizer and hospital lingered on Steve’s admittedly beautiful hands, your mind shifted to the stories she would tell you about her late nights talking with patients in her care. 

Through smell alone, you learned Eddie got a job as a mechanic at the shop down the street and the first night when the aroma of gasoline lingered you cried at the memories of being a little girl with your grandparents, sitting by your grandfather’s truck as he attempted to fix it for the 400th time. 

Loneliness began to set in almost immediately after they moved in. They never actively displayed affection in front of you but there were moments when you were leaving for work and you’d pass by their open bedroom door to see them cuddled together. Sometimes at night when you would come home from your second job, you would hear Eddie talking to Steve over the phone while he was at work and he would giggle at something the man said on the other line before telling him how much he loved him. 

You missed having someone care about you…

Your grandparents had always been there for you through everything; every breakup, rough patch in life, or just to have someone remind you that you were loved unconditionally…they were there. 

When your grandmother lived with you, you laughed harder, smiled wider, and loved waking up in the morning. Now that all seemed so far away, so unattainable. You couldn’t ever picture yourself being happy like that again. 

To avoid that pain, you ran around constantly. It’s not like you could stop anyway with how hard things got around you. Life moves on…you can’t stop just because you’re numb. You suffer through it just like everyone else. 

“Y/N?”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice, you jumped shattering the glass in your hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. That was my fault. You seemed lost in thought. Don’t move, I can clean this up here.”

Nodding, you stood still as you watched him run to grab a broom before your brain caught up with you.

“Wait! Wait, um, don’t…don’t throw away the glass. This was, um, someone in my family gave me this cup.”

“Oh, uh, ok. Well, I don’t see a lot of little pieces. I can try and fix it for you. Do you feel comfortable coming into our room?”

Silently, you headed in that direction, pausing in front of the bed as the metalhead shimmed around you to dig in the desk drawer by the window. Everything in the room was completely different. Where her bed with her yellow comforter used to be was now a bigger bed, higher off the ground with black sheets and blue pillowcases. Where her dresser used to be with the vanity that had photos taped to the mirror was now a much smaller 3 drawer shelf with a guitar hanging above it. On the nightstand, instead of medication and a photo of you with your grandparents, there was now a pack of cigarettes, empty beer cans, a photo of both men, and a book that was half read. 

“Ok, I knew Steve had it around here somewhere. I’m clumsy as hell so he’s always fixing things I accidently break.”, Eddie mused as he sat on the floor and began to focus on his task. “So, um, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but breathily laugh at the awkward way he asked that making him smirk at the sound as you took a seat in front of him.

“I’m alright. I just have a lot going on, you know?”

“Yeah, you come and go a lot like Steve but he gets to sleep. What do you do if I may ask?”

“I’m actually a photographer for the paper.”

“Oooo paparazzi girl!” Eddie’s grin grows as his eyes take you in watching you genuinely laugh for the first time since they met you. “Is that why you come and go at weird hours?”

“Oh, no. When I’m not there, I have another job at the mall taking photos of like families and kids at Glamour Shots.”

“Yeah? Those shiny, glimmering photos? I keep trying to get Steve to take a couple of those with me but he gets adorably embarrassed.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Geez, uh, almost 3 years now. Spent the first couple hiding our relationship because of our town and his parents, rich fuckers who think they control the moral high ground.”, he rolls his eyes. “A few months ago, he finally told them we were together and his parents kicked him out of his house. A couple weeks later, I got harassed at my job and that was the final straw. Steve packed our things and we drove out here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No reason for you to be, princess. You’ve been nothing but nice to us. Well, when we see you.”, he chuckles. “Steve gets worried sometimes that you push yourself too hard.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m strong. I’ll be ok.”

“No one’s saying your weak, Y/N.”

“Good because I’m not!” You snap as silence falls over the room before Eddie displays the cup for you with his palm on the bottom. 

“You may not want to use it for its purpose but keep it as a display.”

Without taking it from him, you rise to your feet and run to your room, slamming the door. 

###########

Everything was loud.

Why is everything so loud?

You were running late for your second job and you couldn’t find the polo you wore for it. You felt disgusting, not having time to shower in what felt like an eternity and you were just so fucking exhausted. You couldn’t afford to lose this job nor calling in to rest. You had to make money. It’s what everyone else does.

Why is everything so loud?

As you opened your door, you were met with Eddie standing at the counter in the kitchen. 

“Have, um, have you seen…”

“Y/N, are you alright?” Tears cloud your vision as you run your fingers through your hair and absently look around the apartment with your eyes. “BABE.”

You flinched at the metalhead’s loud but stern tone not even realizing that Steve was suddenly in front of you with his hands on your biceps. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Let me go! I have…I have to…to go to work…”, you sobbed before your legs gave out and the world went black. 

***

When your eyes finally fluttered open, it was pitch dark outside and your body felt incredibly drained. It felt like every bone in your body had become stiff as you carefully tried to sit up. 

“Hey, no, no, no. Don’t move to quickly or we’ll lose you again.”, Steve cooed softly as he came up from behind you and sat down on his knees to help adjust you. “Good. Here, drink some of this but not too fast.”

When he handed you the bottle of water, you gladly sipped it as his concerned eyes scanned you over. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy.”

“I’m not surprised. When you push your body as hard as you have at some point it pushes back. Do you think you can eat something while we talk?”

When you nodded, a plate appeared beside you as Eddie handed it to his partner.

“I’m going to ask you some questions purely from a medical standpoint, ok? Do you feel comfortable if Ed stays? He had a bit of a panic attack to when we couldn’t wake you up.”

“That’s fine.”, you whisper. “Is that what happened? I panicked?”

“Um, kind of, honey. This kind of seems like a slow build so I would say anxiety attack. We know you work pretty much around the clock and you told me when I called that you were struggling with cash. Has anything else been going on?”

“Someone…that mattered to me…is gone. Died.”

Eddie sat on the couch next you and without thinking brushed some of your hair behind your ear so they could see your face better. 

“I’m sorry. How long ago?”, the nurse continued to inquire. 

“On the 18th it will be 8 months.”

“And you’ve been doing everything you have?! Y/N.”, the metalhead sighed as his boyfriend gave him a look of warning as if to say tread carefully. “Sweetheart, you should be taking it easy so you can grieve.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be fine by now.”, you murmur as you shrug your shoulders. “After my grandmother died, I got 2 weeks paid leave for bereavement. Two weeks. Two weeks of fucking casseroles, sympathies, and people checking in. After that time, everyone began to slowly disappear and I went back to work but I never…I never felt whole. I didn’t understand why everyone else seemed fine while I was still felt like I was dying.”

“After two months, I went to a doctor and told them how I felt. Do you know what she said? ‘After 6 weeks, it’s no longer grief but depression.’ That shook me. I thought to myself ‘well shit. I guess there is a time limit on grieving and there must be something wrong with me because I can’t get better!’” 

The tears begin to fall at a faster pace and you let them go. 

“I still have to work, pay my bills, live my life… but no one ever walked me through how to do that. No one ever showed me how to continue existing without the person you love…without someone who meant the most to you… I wasn’t prepared to be left alone without her.”

Eddie presses your head to his chest as you sob, his arms squeezing you tightly as he whispered that you were ok. Sudden heat warmed your side as Steve leaned his head against your shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with yours while your body trembled against them. 

This had been a long time coming and you allowed the pain to wash over you till you fell asleep in their arms. 

***

This time when you opened your eyes, you were bundled up in a blanket with your head still against Eddie’s chest with one hand comfortingly rubbing your arm while the other held a book he was reading. 

“What are you reading?”

Tilting his head, his gentle eyes take you in as he grins and closes the book to show you the cover. 

The Vampire Lestat.

“I love vampires but Steve likes werewolves. Should have known he’d break my heart one day.”, he teased as the other boy comes around and places a soda with more food on the coffee table in front of you. 

“They are big dog like animals. How can you not like them? Y/N, I want you to at least eat a little bit of this, ok? You need to refuel.”

Not wanting to leave the metalheads comfortable embrace, you whine as you sit up until the smell of the pasta hits your nostrils and you realize how hungry you actually are. 

“Slow! Goodness.”, Steve chuckles as he takes a seat on floor after serving his partner and himself as well. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal. Usually, I’m eating microwaved food or something I pick up on the way to and from work. This is delicious, Steve, thank you.”

The three of you casually talk allowing you to really get to the know the men you had been living with. Eddie loved music and had been playing guitar since he was a little boy. He and his uncle had been fixing up cars since he moved in with him after his father went to jail. Steve learned in high school he enjoyed helping people and after he graduated he went to nursing school. 

“My dad gave me shit because I’m ‘settling’ and not becoming a doctor. I like what I do though. As a nurse I get more one on one with patients and make them feel cared for which as you noticed is hard in today’s society. Doctors seem to care more about the money and not the person.”

His eyes drink in your demeanor as you smile, agreeing with his words. Your entire energy seemed different since the first time they met you. You seemed to be relaxing a bit more and some of what he assumed was your normal personality began to shine through. 

“What about you, honey? Eddie told me you’re a photographer.”

Silently, you unraveled the blanket you had been tangled in and bounced to your bedroom, returning with some photos that you placed on the coffee table in front of them. 

“This man here proposed to this girlfriend by painting a mural on the side of an abandoned building that the city was going to tear down. The mayor called it graffiti and they tried arresting him for it.”

“Oh, wow. That’s gorgeous. I hope this guy is making a ton of money in like New York or something.”, the longhaired boy grins.

“This young lady saved her baby brother from a fire.”

“This are amazing, Y/N. You are extremely talented. “

 “What was this story about?”, Steve asked as he held up a photo of an older woman smiling on the couch by a window watching the rain. 

“That’s my grandma.”, you softly smile as you take it from his hands. “This was about a year before she… I remember we were talking about some trivial stuff and suddenly she turned to me and said ‘Life is beautiful. Even something as small as listening to the rain is never something you should take for granted.’”

“I like that.”, Eddie responded with a tender tone that made you feel safe. “She was right. I know it’s hard with all the bullshit going on in the world but… I think we do need to stop and take a look around, you know?”

“Y/N, honey, we hope you know that you don’t have to do everything yourself. We can help you. We have some money in savings if you need to take a break and—”

“No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, we’re offering.”, Steve insisted. “At least, quit your second job. You need a moment to breathe. We can help with any extra bills you may have until you really get back on your feet.”

Tilting forward, you kissed his cheek before leaning towards Eddie to do the same. 

“Thank you…so much…”

################

Over the next week, you felt more motivated to do things you hadn’t wanted to do over the past 8 months. You did what Steve suggested and quit your job at the mall. You began moving around and leaving the apartment for fun things instead of work. You accompanied the boys to a movie at the theater and took them to the lake where you basked in the sunlight all day. 

You took the time to eat healthier, home cooked meals even offering to make your roommates a meal every now and again. Sometimes when you knew Steve would be out all night, you left some leftovers in the refrigerator and wake up the next morning with a note on the counter thanking you with a big smiley face.

One morning, however, you were surprised with something different. When you opened your bedroom door to get some coffee, you noticed a box with a big red bow on the top and a piece of paper attached to the side. 

“Y/N,

There’s no bottom to the box so all you need to do is lift. I was afraid if we put this in an actual box it may break. Steve said it would be ok but I reminded him he fixes people not objects : ). 

Eddie’s been working on this for a while but we thought after how well you’ve been doing, we just wanted to show you how proud we are of you and how much we’ve enjoyed having you in our lives.

Eddie & Steve”

Carefully lifting the wrapped box and placing it aside, you picked up the glass you had dropped and Eddie had tried to fix. The blank material now had an image of your grandmother you had showed them illustrated on to it with her head turned towards the window. Instead of watching the rain, when she looked out the window there was a detailed drawing of you grinning with your fingers tangled in your hair as you were moving it behind your ear.

He had painted it with light colors, giving her an angelic glow that broke you as you began to cry.

Your feet scooted against the floor as you hurried towards their door and knocked on it a bit too enthusiastically causing it to fly open with a panicked look on the metalhead’s half asleep face. 

“What!? What’s going on? Where’s the fire?!”

You tackled your arms around his neck, not even realizing he was only in boxers. From the bed, Steve saw what was in your hand, smirking as he fell back against the pillow and slung his arm over his eyes.

“Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”, you whispered. 

When he finally realized nothing was wrong, his arms settled around your waist.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. You’re not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, ok?” As you pull away and let him go, his hands cup your face as he dries your tears. “Now go back to bed, you fucking weirdo. It’s too early.”, he teases as he lightly pushes you away making you giggle as he turns back around and crawls into bed.

“May I—”

Before you can finish your sentence, he lifts up the covers and Steve pats the mattress between them. Once you climb in, the pretty boy lifts his arm and circles it around you to tug you closer to his side. When your head rests on his bare chest, your surprised at how warm and comfortable he feels against you, looping your arm around him as you nuzzle into his skin. Another set of arms wrap around your waist pressing you against Eddie’s equally comforting frame. 

His steady breath hitting your shoulder mixed with the other man’s heartbeat lulls you into the heaviest sleep you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

#############

Steddie Asks

[delusionalwings]

Hey there! Can I request yandere Simeon and Belphie (and maybe Barbs?) (I don't know your character limit yet as I've seen one of your works liked your writing opened blog seen reqs opened and now am typing this-) so uhh, you can choose one of these :>

Them(yanderes) with a famous IDOL Darling☆

― synopsis -> with a famous idol darling

― characters -> simeon, belphie

― gender neutral reader

― headcanons

― warnings -> yandere content, mentions of kidnapping, murder

― notes -> i might do a part 2 if someone wants :")

SIMEON

He was extremely proud of you. He had an entire shrine of your goods that nobody knew about. There was not a show he had missed. The sparkle in your eyes while you performed was angelic to say the least. He was hooked on it. You had pushed him to make his cooking healthier to accommodate your needs. He loved you so much more for helping him improve.

It was just another day of him thinking about new recipes when you entered.

"What? Someone called you fat and ugly?"

Did Simeon hear that right?

You sighed, "Yes... I feel a little down. I am sorry, Simeon but I think I'm going to take a rain check on your cookies. Maybe some other day when I am in the mood."

You kissed him on the cheek and tried your best to smile but unlike on the stage, it came off as halfhearted.

Who were you trying to fool, sunshine? He was perfectly in tune with your moods.

The entire morning was spent baking those cookies. Staring at them now, he felt rage boil inside. Not at you. Never at you!

You sounded so... exhausted, so broken.

Let's see if they can tolerate the level of verbal abuse you were faced with every day. Would they break if they had to follow your diet, shout till their throat hurt and stand the majority of the day? He would show your videos to them and if they dared fall asleep, he would kick them awake. No rest for them. No joy for them. A continuous cycle of pain.

How could he just sit and do nothing?

He was your guardian angel. Your good luck charm. Your protector. He must eliminate every danger that came your way.

His wrath must engulf those bastards. He would find those scums and teach them a lesson. They needed to understand how difficult your life was. Daily practice with hardly any cheat days was exhausting. Having to smile and hide behind a mask and not being able to express yourself because of the brand. Which part of it sounded easy? How could they even proclaim to like you as an idol when they couldn't respect you. They needed to be taught basic respect.

They needed to live it in extreme mode. If they cried, he would remind them that nobody cared to hear the voice of useless scum like them.

BELPHEGOR

Whatever motif you might have started out with, your current image was of an idol whose fans disappeared mysteriously after a meet-and-greet with you. Somehow your agency came up with a brilliant idea to use that to their advantage and now your fan base had expanded. Mystery lovers were attracted to you because of the 'ghost' stories and rumors surrounding you.

A lot changed since you started out on the stage and gained popularity but nobody seemed to wonder how you felt. That was until one fine day Belphie decided to learn your point of view while you cuddled him.

"Well," you started, "I just... I worry if the rumors are true. I understand the need for publicity in the industry but I hope nobody is actually hurt."

Belphie sleepily reassured you. Don't worry about matters out of your control. A menacing glint had appeared in his eyes at the sudden rush of memories.

Why they were worse than just hurt! What else did they expect when those 'fans' touched you, shook hands with you, clicked pictures with you, complimented you and professed their undying love for you? All in front of Belphie. You didn't expect him to turn a blind eye to them right? He could have been only too glad to dump their rotting bodies in front of their house but he refrained. He didn't want the number of your fans to dwindle because of worse rumors.

Ah! His mood soured. He turned towards you and kissed you softly.

"Let's not talk about it now. Come sleep with me."

[rookfeatherrambles]

Hey Tumblr, its been a hell of a few days for me. For those that don't know, on Sunday (June 2nd), I was in a car accident that really traumatized me, and I don't know if its going to affect me for another week or another 10 years. Details under the cut, as well as pictures of my injuries (no blood but bruises and scrapes, will be tagged appropriately).

My friend came up from Washington state to see me and wanted me to meet her at the hotel she was staying at. No problem. I'd just take an uber, from where I was located it would be an under 10$ trip. The uber gets there, I introduce myself, I place my purse into the car, and as I'm getting in, my earbud falls out and bounces off into who knows where. So I pause, one foot in the vehicle, one foot out, as I'm sort of stooping to look for this missing earbud. (It was important to me, more on that later). The back seat door is still wide open, but then, the driver decides to start driving. My foot is dragged back and twisted, and the rest of my body follows, and I'm screaming as I hit the ground and feel the wheel going over my leg. I think my first thought was that it had been ripped from my body. I was dragged a few feet down the street while passengers screamed to the driver to stop the car, and I don't think I've ever felt that kind of pain before. My throat is raw from screaming and crying. The car stops, people come and the driver tries to control the situation. All I ask through my sobs is 'is my leg still there?' and yes, miraculously, it is still there. I'm offered hands, but I lift myself up under my own power, extremely in shock. I'm not bleeding. Just scraped to hell with a tire track on my skin like a brand and terrified. Other parts of me also were scraped up, but I didn't notice until later. People are talking to me, all I want to do is be with my friend, so I look the driver in the face and tell him to take me to my destination, where I meet up with my friend. I am in shock all night. The driver asked me if I was okay, and upon me saying yeah, fine (I was not fine) he tells me he's not going to report this to Uber because its just a few scrapes. Anyway, I visit with my friend, and under guidence of my great roommate, I go to a walk in clinic and wait for nigh on 4 hours to get my injuries documented and get checked out. The verdict? Whiplash, no broken bones. I ache like I'm 90 but that's to be expected. I'm off work for a week, I'm given a 200$ physiotherapy prescription, but unless I want to pay out of pocket, I need to contact uber and start an insurance claim. I do that. They tell me they're going to put me in touch with an insurer. I don't believe them. I get a consultation with a personal injury lawyer set up for this friday, and now we come to here and now. I need headphones to cope with sensory hell outside of my apartment, and they were not on me when I left, so they're long gone. 180$ earbuds. Truthfully, I have this gut feeling that Uber is going to do their best to discredit me and what happened, just like that driver. I can't get into a car now without remembering that agony of my leg being crushed under the wheel, and when I'm in any vehicle now, I'm plagued by panic and horrid images of gruesome demise. I genuinely think I might have PTSD, though I'll be looking into a formal diagnosis when i can get to it. When I can AFFORD it. I hate to do this so soon after asking about my back, but I'm out of work for I don't know how long now, I don't know how many physio appointments or THERAPY appointments i will need to get over this. I need to recoup my headphones, I need to get groceries delivered now (which is really pricy), I need to keep myself afloat until Uber decides to (or decides not to) make amends. I don't even know if they fired the driver. I just want to feel safe and I just want something done. Anyway, if you can donate, please do. I know I'm just the silly AU person (one of many) but I have to ask. I have no other choice. I'm just sorry I don't have anything to give in return. Paypal.me/xcannibal Proof of injuries below.

[thecoolerliauditore]

saw a post that's actually making the gears turn in my head a bit about how Scott shouldn't cop so much blame for Pearl's social isolation in DL when he only recounted things she did and that Ren should be the focus because he was out there calling her a witch/demoness and I don't necessarily disagree. but I think it's worth saying at least for myself that Scott didn't Lie about Pearl's behaviour but he did purposefully leave out details that change things dramatically e.g. the axe crits happening Before Pearl started freezing herself thus him starting the cycle of abuse in the first place (not to mention this all stemming back to the nether thing).

and this is something you see a lot IRL with toxic relationships probably I'd argue more than just outright lying and insulting the other party, because "look at all these crazy things pearl did, isn't she bad" is a lot more easily agreed with than "pearl is crazy".

This is not me saying that like. Scott's not allowed to be freaked out about Pearl's more extreme behaviour like her breaking into his house. but it stands that he went out of his way to maliciously refer to her and isolate her when he and Cleo were her entire world.

The Missing Missing Reasons article is about parental abuse specifically, but I think this pattern of behaviour can also be applied to other relationships. I know this is an insane thing to source in mcyt posting but I really do think it's a good read everyone should experience at least once regardless of context.

"Witch", "demoness" and "crazy ex girlfriend" are all the same in that they are labels used to villainize a woman specifically. And I'd even go to say, in Pearl's case, they are all equally abstract since she and Scott were never in an actual relationship, he's just decided to call her that.

I never want to make it sound like I think Pearl is entirely angelic, she very much plays into the role she's given, but it remains as a role she was given rather than something innate to her character. But I think it's important to look at a power dynamic and identify what's actually going on because I've heard "they were toxic to eachother" too many times when one party was left completely without her entire support system with no explanation (her relationships pre-DL were pretty much just Scott, Cleo and People Who Try To Kill Us) while the other party did everything in his power to actively harm her without indicating himself as the bad guy.

As for Ren, I'm not a massive Ren guy so I can't pretend I can begin to understand exactly what went on in his head other than that I think DL Rendog was probably suffering from many diseases but the Rendog misogyny post would go insane. There's something madonna/whore complex about him. There you go guys whoa a freudian concept I'm keeping my branding going

[mamawasatesttube]

core four for the hc ask game! (or if that’s too many, just cassie please) 💜

i will simply do core four as a collective!! ♥

Headcanon A:  realistic

kon is the dog they put in with the cheetahs to keep them from going fucking insane. tim cassie and bart are the cheetahs.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

they all imprinted on nightwing like ducklings and tim cant decide whether to be smug or mad about it. on the one hand, hell yeah nightwing is the coolest!!! do you wanna join his nightwing fanclub he's president and everyone can have matching t-shirts. on the other hand. guys stop it he's not actually cool i've seen him eat cold pizza off the floor. guys this is cringe. guys that's MY big brother stop stealing him. dick those are MY besties stop stealing them. GUYS...

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

tim and cassie have to work through their shiny brand-new extreme anxiety complexes around kon and bart being on the field again after their resurrections. bart actually gets a little upset with them both for being overprotective, at one point. (this is canon to an extent in that it is a factor in the koncassie breakup, but i think we can do more with it!)

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

they are all in their 20s at this point. the first year she actually got a job, cassie realized she had no idea what she was doing and freaked out and phoned up tim like "HOW DO I FILE TAXES????" and he got so excited to do them for her that it broke through her mild panic because hey. tim? what's wrong with you. he says its just satisfying to see the numbers all line up.

[molly-ghuleh]

Could you do headcanons for all the Papas(or at least Secondo, Terzo, and Copia) and how they would react to a reader that has A LOT of stuffed animals. And I really mean a lot 😅 As in I've got probably over 100 of all different types and brands. Preferably gender neutral reader too cuz I'm transmasc! Thank you 💕

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! I still sleep with a stuffed animal so I understand :') Thank you for the request!

Primo

Primo has been around the block, and has seen many things

Your collection of stuffed animals is nothing strange to him. In fact he finds it rather adorable.

He understands that it's a comfort thing for you and will make sure to have room for your collection if you decide to live with him

If you sleep with some (or all) of them he'll buy a bigger bed if you need

If you like to keep them on display instead, he'll clear up a space dedicated solely for them in his bedroom

With your permission he'll choose his favorite from your collection and keep it in his office. It reminds him of you during long days of work

Knows which stuffed animals you prefer depending on your mood and will set them up on your shared bed accordingly

If you like to hold some while the two of you cuddle, he'll include them in a little cuddle pile

Don't tell his brothers but he'll call you his teddy bear

Overall just extremely soft and accepting of your collection. Your honor I love Peemo

Secondo

Honestly? He's pretty confused at first.

Aren't stuffed animals supposed to be for babies and children?

You can tell he wants to understand though, so you calmly sit him down and explain why you keep your collection

He apologizes for insinuating that keeping stuffed animals is childlike, he didn't understand (you forgive him)

The first time you spend the night in his bed (which is already a rare occurrence for him, the man is emotionally constipated) he makes sure to hold you AND your stuffed animal(s)

If you wake up before him, he'll grab the stuffed animal you left in the bed and cuddle it while he keeps sleeping

THIS FACT DOES NOT LEAVE HIS CHAMBERS.

After a while he gets used to having you in his arms, and accepts that you come with your stuffed animals

You're hesitant to move into his chambers with him because how are you supposed to bring your collection into his carefully curated aesthetic?

But he reassures you that he'll gladly find a place for them if it makes you happy, you're more important than any of his material things

You've shown him that self-comfort is normal and healthy

He doesn't care that his brothers tease him about growing softer for you. He's happy and you're happy and that's all that matters.

Terzo

Terzo is immediately so accepting that it makes you a little teary.

He makes you question why you would even be nervous to tell him about your collection in the first place

Asks you to introduce him to each and every one

Even if they don't have names, he still wants to learn about the significance of them to you. When did you get them? Why did you choose this one? Which is your favorite?

Immediately declares that the smallest one is his little friend.

Carries it around in his pocket all day (with your permission) because he likes to be reminded of you when you're both busy.

Like Primo, he'll buy a bigger bed if you like to keep them in bed with you as you sleep

WILL buy the most expensive and roomy display case for them if you choose to keep them on display

If you and Terzo get intimate, he'll drape a blanket over your stuffed animals so the two of you 'don't ruin their innocence'

He's the type to try and cheer you up by giving them voices when you're sad. Each one has a different voice

(It always works. You always end up feeling better)

He still comforts you himself, he just knows that your stuffed animals are an extra comfort to you when you need them

Has no qualms about adding to your collection himself if he sees a stuffed animal that he knows you'd like

Copia

Hear me out. I feel like Copia has a few stuffed animals of his own

He'd seen a cute little rat plushie while away on tour once and bought it because how could he not?

He still has the stuffed rabbit from when he was a child

Copia is extremely sentimental in that regard

So when you nervously tell him about your collection, his face lights up because hey! He has some too!

Like Terzo, he'll ask you to introduce them all to him and asks about where and when you got them

If they don't have names, they do now. Copia will name them all and memorize each one.

Bonus points if you have rat or mouse plushies. He'll scratch them on the ears like they're real living pets

When you move into his chambers he'll create a special space for both of your collections together

Puts his stuffed rat and your favorite stuffed animal together and insists they're in love

It's part of your nightly routine for the two of you to choose a stuffed animal to spend the night in the bed

Copia is the type to panic slightly when you're upset or anxious

So he grabs as many stuffed animals as he can and piles them up around you for maximum comfort

And then he wraps his arms around you and your hundreds of plushies because he knows you need him, too.

Finds it hard to sleep without at least one stuffed animal now.

If either of you are away and have to spend the night apart, you're sure to pack the other's favorite one so you carry a piece of one another everywhere

[brigitttt]

CHEESEMAS❄️✨🧀

I went to the store late November and saw the most egregious advent calendar that deigned to call itself the extremely good name "12 Days of Cheesemas". I was dismayed to read on the back that it actually just contained no less than 10 pieces of cheddar, which is just not the right way to celebrate winter. So, I decided to do Cheesemas good and proper, by having at least 12 different kinds of cheeses throughout the month! Bon appetit:

1. Baked Brie (with ploughman's spread of baked potato, beef sausage, salad, and pickles; the perfect start!)

2. Double Gloucester on toast (with beef, barley, and rutabaga stew; tried not to phone it in on this one but it really is just a sandwich kinda cheese sorry gloucesterheads)

3. Mt. Moriarty cheesy toast (with mushroom chili; EDIT, I misremembered which cheese this was, and it's a local brand)

4. Gruyère potatoes and mushrooms au gratin (this was the most rich and decadent thing I've ever consumed in my entire life)

5. Jarlsberg smørbrød (with avocado, greens, and strawberries on rye; back to the norwegian roots)

6. Cheddar (on top of black bean soup; since this was the only cheddar I would allow Cheesemas to have we got cave aged cheddar from Wookey Hole, England, ooh & aah, etc)

7. Caciocavallo Quesadillas (with peas, avocado and beans; this was meant to be Oaxaca but the store decided that every oaxaca package would be out of date so last minute substitutions had to be made)

And I'll append the last five at the end of the month! Happy cheesemas I love you <3

[daisybianca]

INSTAGRAM AU

Daniel Ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 445.092 others

yourusername our favorite uncle <3 their bond is so strong that they sometimes get confused and accidentally call him daddy🤣

view all 2.982 comments

dannyricfp I've never seen an uncle being that hot to be honest bruh.

user72927 it's the curly hair for me.

dannyric3fanpage it's basically EVERYTHING for me. I swear to God this man is going to be the death of me.

danielricciardo I'm hot, I know.

landonorris why do people create fan pages of you? yikes man, that sucks.

danielricciardo as I said before, I'm hot.

danielricciardo so you're mad now that some 8 year old calls me daddy🤨

yourusername no I don't mind actually.

danielricciardo 🧢

user82929 I'd sell my parents to a bazaar if only they adopted me💀

user88190 AHAHA. FOR REAL. I believe that they would make SUCH good parents. My babies are authentic parents material.

landonorris @ yourusername @ danielricciardo I want to become an uncle.

danielricciardo so, you want us to have sex.

landonorris yes. please, film the process so we can be blessed with an original tutorial from a real goat 🐐🙏

yourusername oh shut up both of you😂

danielricciardo why, babe? basically EVERYONE has sex (Lando, I won't criticize. your comment because this will evolve into an online fist fight.)

yourusername no, not everyone. we don't.😔

danielricciardo 🤡keep telling yourself that shit, (y/n)🤡

liked by charlesleclerc, yourusername and 972.082 others

danielricciardo attended the tattoo artist this morning with a lady I bumped into just moments before the scheduled appointment.

view all 5.726 comments

yourusername so I go by 'a lady I bumped into just moments before the schedule appointment' now??? I love my brand-new nickname🥰

danielricciardo I love you, a lady I bumped into just moments before the schedule appointment.

landonorris not funny.

user72828 STOP INTERRUPTING THEIR MOMENT. go buy some ice-cream, damn.

user62829 it's their best era and I'm SO here for it.

user12927 YES. YES. YES.

user72829 to have a Danny Ric in your life🥰

maxverstappen1 yes, extremely tiring, I know.

danielricciardo oh, you're still alive.

maxverstappen1 unfortunately, you happened to be very unlucky, buddy.

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton and 879.028 others

yourusername damn, I don't have much to say about his human being. he's extraordinary and uniquely beautiful in his own way.🥺 happy birthday, my boy. keep making this cruel world and our lives a better and a safest place. I love you so much (even though you're sleeping and snoring like a baby pig, right next to me at the moment)❤️

lewishamilton wishing this big guy a very happy and blessing birthday🙏

user82929 awww, babyyy.

user9292 HAPPY BDAY DANNY RIC. WE ADORE YOU.

user02729 ADORE isn't enough to describe how much I love this man.

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sleeping beauty. as (y/n) said, keep making the world a louder, bolder, tiring, better place💗

danielricciardo not sleeping anymore. thanks but I know you love me deep down.💕🙏

danielricciardo thank you, baby❤️💕 (not thankful for screaming and singing the bday song next to my ear to wake me up, though.)

user62881 AHAHHAHA. They're the DEFINITION of a powerful couple. Iconic.

yourusername my voice is angelic to say, at least. you SHOULD be thankful for that, as well.

landonorris yayyy. one year closer to becoming a dilf. congrats on your accomplishment, Daniel👏

danielricciardo ran out of birthday wishes and decided to search it up on pinterest, huh?

user62677 AHAHHA. leave our baby Lando alone pls😔

landonorris I'm not a big fan of pinterest, so no, I chose Google instead. But at least I try to be creative, you know.

[aph-centric-fixs]

This is going to hurt

First fic!! I've had this idea for awhile so why not make it my first one?

CW// poor descriptions of Blood, puncture wounds, descriptions of cauterizing wounds, and probably extremely ooc/cringe writing (super shitty ❤️)

Minecraft Diaries:

Aphmau, Laurance, Garroth, Dante x Blacksmith Reader (platonic) (Gender neutral)

No set date/event this takes place. Not really canon oriented.

It was dead at night, but that didn't matter. The houses ran down the path, searching for the village circled on the map. Laurance led the way with the map as Garroth followed close by, though he was more so focused on the lady in his arms. Dante followed up the rear.

An ambush caught them all by surprise, much to the disappointment and embarrassment of all three of the guards. The surprise left Aphmau hurt, an arrow piercing her side and leaving her in agony from it. It didn't go through, staying stuck right in between.

Garroth had wanted to pull out the arrow as soon as possible, but Laurance advised against it. As the three panicked about what to do, Aphmau had grabbed the map from her satchel and circled a little spot on it. It seemed almost random to the three, as there wasn't a city or town marked there, but they decided it was their best bet of keeping her alive.

The closer the three got closer to the location, they could see a fence and light coming from the trees. Laurance called out, practically screaming as the people, assumingly standing guard, panicked and opened the gate for the three.

After the three made it in their horses had come to a halt at their command. Not many houses were lightened, seeing as it was dark most were in bed asleep. Their best bet was a building similar to a blacksmiths. The windows were illuminated and the chimney puffed out consistent smoke.

Garroth got off his horse first, gently pulling Aphmau off and into his arms. Laurance and Dante followed suit, running to the building and banging on the door as Garroth walked as quickly as possible as to not cause more discomfort.

The door swung open and there stood a person in a tunic and smithing gloves. It seemed like they were about to complain until they saw Garroth carrying Aphmau over to the building. Very quickly they opened the door wider and stood out the way for the four to enter. Laurance and Dante moved for Garroth to enter first with Aphmau, following and closing the door behind themselves.

The assumed blacksmith quickly cleared a long table, actually swiping their arms on the table and pushing everything off. Everything made a clang as it fell, but no one seemed to care as a pillow was placed at the head of the table for Aphmau, as she was placed on her side on the table.

Aphmau groaned in pain, clutching where the wound was and curling in on herself to try and alleviate the pain, to no avail.

"I'm (Y/N), no time for your names. I need you-" they pointed to Laurance "to go out and find me a stick, not too long or thick." And he ran outside, not questioning the orders.

"And I need you-" they pointed to Garroth "to put that metal brand in the fire for me" and Garroth followed their orders as well. Neither of them asked questions and quickly went to work.

Dante stood at the head of the table, gently patting Aphmau's head as he watched the commotion. Genuinely he was afraid as well, but he was a little better at containing it. Laurance came back in, practically slamming the door open with a stick in hand. He slammed the door closed and handed it over to them.

"Great! Now you two, get out" (Y/N) said while pointing over to a different door, that led to the other room. Garroth and Laurance looked at each other before raising their voices to object. The idea was quickly shut down as they yelled for the two to shut up. "The more people are in the room, the less likely it'll be for me to help her as easily", and that put them to silence and to the other room.

"Great, now you, what's your name?" They asked, turning to Dante with a smile.

"uh... Dante" He responded, lifting his hands away, ready to be ordered around.

"Nice to meet you Dante. I hope you don't mind blood, there is going to be a lot of it" They nodded, moving around the room a little as they spoke.

Quickly turning around they held up the stick and gently grabbed Aphmau's face. "Bite on this, it'll help" and so she did. Dante reached and grabbed onto Aphmau's hands, keeping her on her side that didn't have the arrow.

"you're good at this" pulling on their gloves to make sure they're on tight before grabbing the arrow. "Here comes the hard part."

They lightly pressed their hand onto Aphmau's stomach, raising the rip in her dress slightly for more room. "This is going to hurt, by the way" they said. Aph made a worried sound, but didn't have much time to complain as they quickly pulled the arrow out in one swift motion.

Aphmau bit down aggressively onto the stick as she screened in pain. Dante continued to hold Aphmau down as she thrashed around, the pain too much to handle for her but yet they persisted.

"Hard part over!" They smiled, holding up the completely intact arrow and inspecting it. Dante looked over at them with a confused face, still holding Aphmau down.

"And the easy part...?" Dante asked hesitantly, almost fearful to ask.

They walked over to the pit, fire encasing the entire thing, and grabbed the metal bar Garroth had placed in it. "Well..." They prolonged, holding up the metal bar, "We've gotta cauterize the wound- to stop the bleeding" They smiled over to him, "right?"

Dante watched in horror as they brought the metal bar down and placed it onto one entrance of the wound, causing Aphmau to screen even more- and Dante swore he heard the stick snap in half.

Suddenly, Aphmau stopped thrashing, practically dead weight in Dante's hold now. Seems she had passed out from the pain. There was still more to be done, as they had turned Aph a little forward to get the back of the wound and close it off too.

"Easy part done!" They dropped the metal bar on the ground, gently laying Aphmau onto her back to rest. Dante took this as his turn to go to Garroth and Laurance to let them know it all went fine.

When the three of them returned into the room, a pillow was placed under Aph's abdomen where the wound was and (Y/N) was wrapping bandages around her abdomen as well.

"Good news, she'll live! I think..." They muttered to themselves before setting the bandages off to the side. "She'll be out for awhile, a couple days or so. Shock and mass amounts of pain do that to people" they shrugged, not bothering to pay attention to the shocked faces on Laurance and Garroth.

"So..." They said, sitting down on a chair and taking off their now blood soaked gloves "Where do you all come from?"

[preet-01]

I've had this idea for a few days. Batman Max/Catwoman Daniel

When Max decided to don the cowl and cape, he’d done it to protect the city he’d grown up in. For the most part at least.

Gotham ran rampant with crime — mob bosses, crime lords, and costumed villains alike ran around causing havoc. The GCPD and district attorneys did the best they could, but corruption was more common than one would think. So Max had become the protector that the city needed.

By day, he was the elusive, playboy billionaire with more money than anyone ever needed. If Max Verstappen wasn’t off doing some rich person extreme sport, then he was believed to be in his empty manor with a new flavor of the week. And by night, much to the chagrin of Alfred, he was vengeance personified. A demon bringing fear into the eyes of Gotham’s rogues gallery.

But for all he caught the Joker, Scarecrow, Harley, Ivy, Penguin, Riddler, and all the various other rogues that weren’t actually deadly but more like nuisances that would ruin a perfectly gloomy day with their antics (particularly Condiment King or fucking Calendar Man), one rogue always seemed to evade him.

Catwoman.

He’d heard conflicting rumors about the cat burglar, but one thing remained consistent — the Cat was drawn to shiny things. And despite all the doom and gloom that Gotham was known for, there were countless shiny things for the Cat to steal.

He gets his chance to catch the Cat when there's a new museum exhibit opening. He doesn't go to the museum, no Catwoman is smarter than that. Well, Max hopes that Catwoman is smarter than that because otherwise, Max has been unable to catch an idiot.

Instead, Max heads over to the mayor's mansion. The mayor's wife had recently been in the news for buying a new diamond necklace. it was ostentatious in Max's opinion, but with the new diamond necklace resting on the mayor's wife's neck, then the rest of her jewels would be back at the mansion.

_____

Max is crouched in the shadows as a man dressed in a black skintight suit and cat-shaped cowl sneakily enters the mayor's mansion.

He doesn't make a move until Catwoman (or is it Catman? He'd only heard Catwoman from other Gothamites and talk about how Catwoman's childbearing hips. He would have to ask about that) leaves the mansion.

With his grappling hook, Max swings over to the roof that Catwoman is using for his escape.

"That isn't yours," Max growls, thankful for the voice modulator he uses these days.

"Haven't you heard, darling, finders keepers," Catwoman drawls. His lips quirk up in a smirk. "I was wondering when the Dark Knight would honor me with his presence," he continues on, raking his eyes down Max's body.

"Honor?" Max questions, no rogue was honored by his presence. Terrified? Yes. Manic? Almost always. But never honored.

"Oh, definitely an honor, Batsy," Catwoman retorts. "And as much as I want to explore this, I've got brand new pearl necklaces to try on."

"You know I can't let you leave with those," Max states. He's got a batarang in hand.

"A shame, darling," he sighs and jumps off the building, "until next time!" He yells. To Max's surprise, Catwoman lands on all fours like an actual cat would.