#also please save him from chelsea

[ellephlox]

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no. 

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came. 

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 

-Elle

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil x reader #reader insert #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

[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

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker au #ceo!august walker #ceo!august #best friend's dad #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #holiday angel #mine

[clemswinecorner-socials]

Trackside - [MM]

Letting you guys know I am not a football girly, I just think mason mount is a hot shot tbh. I am a motorsports girly first and foremost, so it's Motorsports photgrapher!reader x mason with a bunch of references to the drivers and not so much to any football :) also disclaimer: the timing might not be fully correct (esp the football schedule) but for the sake of the story let's pretend alright?

Yourusername

liked by callum_ilott, lissiemackintosh and others

yourusername motorsports photographer takes on summer break

posted august 3rd, 2022

pierregasly who took that second pic huh? ;) formula1fan bye these piccccs landonorris starting a jpg account as well i see

yourusername im literally a photographer

paularon_ looks great! lissiemackintosh hope youre enjoying summer break x ynstan love how they were all taken with different cameras

yourusername duh, your girl is always prepared

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Yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, cmpulsic and others

yourusername motorsports photographer gets sidetracked tagged masonmount, declanrice, chelseafc

posted september 15th, 2022

chelseafc loved having you here y/n! footballfan the last pic of mase ohmylord

masonfan he looks in love f2fans can't blame him, i met her and she was the sweetest and prettiest person in the world

formula1fan love that you're branching out! declanrice should support the better team next time ;)

yourusername wym i already am?

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Yourusername

England

liked by scuderiaferrari, benchilwell and others

yourusername past months of time off in england + silverstone <3 tagged charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, masonmount

posted september 23rd, 2022

footballandf1 the combination of f1 and footie 🤌🏼🤌🏼 clementnovalak supporting the right team i see

yourusername 😌😌

footballfan girly idk where you've come from but please keep this mason content coming omg f1fan omg your insta has been top notch recently and honestly love that for you yourfriend we saw each other like every day and not a single slide of me :(

yourusername i'm sorry!!! saving them up for your birthday bc we never take pics together and you post the ones i take of you

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Yourusername

liked by redbullracing, marcusarmstrong and others

yourusername motorsports photographer takes her football boyfriend trackside posted october 8th, 2022

landonorris first time i didn't mind you stopping for a chat

yoursername thanks mate, loved photographing your sochi podium🔥🔥 landonorris that was mean

fanaccount BOYFRIEND?!?!?! EXCUSE ME??? masonmount i loved seeing your world anotherfan i didnt think id like masons gf more than mason but here i am masonfan mase's comment omg he in love love clementnovalak stop by the f2 paddock next time?

yourusername we will just for you clem

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Yourusername

Chelsea

liked by masonmount, georgerussell63 and others

yourusername i think this football thing is kind of growing on me…

posted november 3rd, 2022

yourroommate the football or the guy?

yourusername ...

masonmount <33 masonmount thank god it is fanofboth girl i do not blame you juanmanuelcorrea_ you better not abandon us

yourusername i'd never

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Yourusername

Abu Dhabi

liked by jakcrawford, jackgrealish and others

yourusername motorsports photographer goes back to her day job tagged scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, jakcrawford_, jehand98, dennis_hauger, olliebearman, prema_racing

posted november 26th, 2022

alex_albon offended to not be onhere racingfan so ready for the last race!!! yourfriend i almost forgot you were a motorsports person and not football omg, this looks good premafan awww love all the boys on the last pic

yourusername my feeder series kids🫶🏼🫶🏼😚😚 dennishauger im literally older than you

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read the continuation 'sidetracked'

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #formula 1 #f2 x reader #mason mount imagines

[littlespacereader]

haii!!!!! can u do a story wher tony stark is cg an peter parker is litle on patrol ??? wifs mentions of captan amewica and or doctort strang bein othr papa(s) ??

Such a cute idea! I love me a cute fic with little and caregiver teaming up to save the world but the Cg is just worried about their little the whole time! Of course I have CG Tony Stark and to change it up I made the other CG Doctor strange! I literally love his character so much! I also based the villain off the comic book character and not the MCU version of the character. Anyway! Please enjoy this fic!! Thank you for the request!

On Patrol🕷️⚡️

Caregiver! Tony Stark, Caregiver! Stephen Strange & Little! Peter Parker

Tags - fighting (combat), passing out, tickling, cuddles, medicines, magic

Nicknames - Pete, kid, little bundle of joy, sweet one, little one, little spider, Dadee for Tony, Papa for Strange

“Mission Alert, 22nd street and 8th avenue. Reports says the Electro is making his way to the city’s power grid. Police are asking for the Avenger’s assistance.” Jarvis echoed through the Tower.

“A mission!!” Peter jumped from his bed. He threw his spider stuffie and spit his pacifier out before running into the other room.

“Jarvis! Keep me updated on the mission! I’m getting changed now.”

“Sir, do you think you’re in the right headspace to be going on this mission?”

“Of course! I’m big now. I just needed a little break and now I’m good.”

He quickly threw on his suit, grabbed his web shooters before leaving his room. Not without one extra hug to his stuffie though! If Jarvis had real eyes, he’d be rolling them.

Peter started running down the hall, then thought the doors to the balcony. With one big jump he swung into the city.

Peter began to talk to Jarvis through his suit’s technology, “Tell Da-…Tell Mister Stark-“

“Tell me what?”

Peter looked to his right to see Tony flying beside him. “Hey! I was just telling Jarvis-“

“Where do you think you’re going Pete?”

“I’m going on the mission.” Peter said, a bit unsure of himself. “You see, I just got back from school so I was just relaxing watching this old show called Gillian’s Island when Jarvis said the mission alert and since everyone else is away on the mission in Australia I thought I would cover it.” Peter said as fast as lighting. Was it all completely true…no.

“Huh? Really?” Tony didn’t sound too convinced.

“Yeah! And now that you’re here we can do this together! On patrol! Come on!” he tried to swing faster but Ironman was much faster than Peter’s swinging. Tony stopped him, the two just stood in the air, Ironman hovering and Spider-Man holding onto one of his webs.

“I think maybe you should sit this one out kid. I’ll take care of it.”

“But I can do it! He’s my villain anyway! Trust me I’ll be-.”

There was a sudden rumble with lighting flying into the air. The two looked at one another.

Tony sighed, “We don’t have time to argue. Alright, come on kid. As long as you’re not feeling Little…” Peter could hear the slight sternness to his voice.

“Nope! All good. Alright let’s goooo!” And before Tony could him question more, Peter continued to swing away.

Tony just sighed and followed after him. While Peter swung, Tony flied beside him. They were heading towards downtown near Chelsea market and the Flatiron building.

As they made their way Peter noticed all the different buildings, a new toy store, the Harry Potter store, plus there was probably a new toy stand at Chelsea market.

“Da-…Mister Stark? After we take down Electro can we go to Chelsea market? I wanna see if they’ve got a new toy stand, because the last time I was there with you and Papa I saw-“

“Kid look out!”

Tony grabbed Peter before a lighting strike could hit him. He set him down on a rooftop near by.

“Peter answer me right now. Are you feeling big or Little?” Tony asked in his angry stern voice.

“I’m fine! I’ve got this!” He shook his head and completely avoid the question entirely. Again Peter pusher past and over to Electro who was not happy to see the duo.

“The spider brought backup? It won’t matter!”

Electro began throwing lighting bolts towards Spider-Man and Ironman but the two dodge them well.

“You remember what I taught you last week?”

“The above and below trick?” Peter happily replied.

“That’s the one. Alright kid, let’s do it.” Tony flew below Electro. While he was distracted with Tony, Peter swung above, grabbing his arms in his webs perfectly restraining him.

“We got him Mister Stark! We got-.”

There was just one problem…Electro’s hand were still filled with electricity. So he shot above him. The electricity traveled up the webs and onto Peter, electrocuting him.

Peter doesn’t really remember what happened after that. He heard his Dadee call after him, then he remembers falling, then everything went dark as he passed out. Though he thought he remembered something red wrapping around him.

~~~

When Peter started to wake up he felt wrapped in a blanket. No…wait a minute.

Peter’s eyes fluttered as he started to regain consciousness. He looked down to see his whole body was wrapped in not a blanket but a cape, specifically Doctor Stranger’s cloak.

Peter’s body ached and his head was pounding but he looked around for his Dadee and his Papa too.

He realized where he was. Safe and sound in Papa’s mansion in Downtown Manhattan, the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Peter sighed and sunk into the very comfy bed. He always loved going to Papa’s house. Everything was so cool and mysterious.

Plus he always has the softest beds imaginable. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and fall back to sleep. Expect cloak started to tickle him! Peter began to giggle and giggle, the cloak was relentless.

The cloak only ceased its tickle attack when the door to the bedroom opened up. Peter looked to see Uncle Wong enter with a tray in his hands.

“How are you feeling little one?”

“I’m fine! Really!” Peter began to sit up but his pounding headache had him sink right back down. “Actually my head hurts, badly.” He whined holding his head.

Wong hummed in response, “I thought so. That’s why I brought this for you.”

Wong sat the tray down on Peter’s lap. On it, were little bottles with different colored liquids inside. Peter looked at Wong confused.

“Don’t worry it’s all medicines to help you feel better.” Wong started looking through the different bottles for the right one.

He picked up one and opened it up, black smoke started to pour out of it before he quickly plugged it shut.

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at Wong with sheer horror on his face. Wong laughed nervously, “Haha, that was the wrong one.”

“Wrong one?! What is that?!”

“Nothing you need to worry about. Let’s see here.” Wong looked through the bottles until, “Ah ha! Here it is!”

He held up a glass bottle with a blue liquid inside. Peter looked at Wong worried, “What is that?”

“It’s liquid advil. I will help you feel better soon.”

“No thank Uncle Wong I’m gonna see Papa instead.” Peter began sitting up with the help of the cloak.

“I’m telling you Peter this will help you. It’s good medicine. I’m 78% sure.”

“78% sure?! What about the other 22%?”

“Well, they’re a chance that this could turn you into a fish or cure your headache.”

“A FISH?!”

“It’s only a 22% chance! Nothing to worry about!”

Peter’s heart was in his throat. He stood up on unsteady feet but thanks to the cloak he didn’t fall. He looked at the cloak and then Wong.

“Mister cloak, take me to Papa please.”

“Peter wait-.”

The cloak lifted Peter in the air and flew him right out the door, ignoring Wong. The cloak flew through the mansion in search of Strange, all while Peter was giggling, but thankfully it didn’t need to look far.

Strange and Tony sat by the fireplace. A coffee table with tea cups sat between their big chairs.

“I should’ve checked with Jarvis the moment I caught up with him in New York. I just had a feeling he wasn’t as big as he was saying.”

“It isn’t your fault Tony. It’s hard to tell when Peter is truly regressed or somewhere in between. I’m just happy he wasn’t badly hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m a good Caregiver or I’m becoming my old man.” Tony sighed.

“Tony, Peter idolizes you. There’s really very little you could say or do to make him hate you. Don’t beat yourself up, that’s my job.” Strange smirked.

Tony rolled his eyes, “How did you even find us?”

“I was heading to Chelsea Markey to pick up something for Peter. Last time we were there I saw him looking at a toy stand and-”

The cloak carrying Peter flew into the room, knocking over the coffee table with their tea cups. The cloak deposited Peter in Strange’s lap with one plop.

Peter giggled and waved to the cloak goodbye. “Thank you cloakie!” The cloak waved back before disappearing into the mansion.

“My little bundle of joy delivered into my lap.” Strange chuckled.

Peter reach forward and hugged Strange, who recuperated wrapping his arms around Peter. “Peter, sweet one, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” Peter mumbled in the hug.

He lifted his head up but held onto Strange still, “Uncle Wong tried to poison me Papa!”

Strange raised an eye brow, “Did he now?”

“Yeah! He brought in this big tray of bottles! One of them he opened had black smoke coming out of it! And another could’ve turned me into a fish!!”

“A fish?!” Tony stood up and joined the two, “We can’t have that happen! What will we do if our little spider turned into a little fish?!” Tony said as dramatic as possible.

“No Dadee! Don’t wanna be a fish!”

“Don’t worry kiddo, you’re not going to be a fish. I’m sure Papa has some regular medicine for you around here somewhere.”

“Come on,” Strange said lifting Peter into his arms. “Let’s get you some medicine and then it’s back to bed for you.”

“Noooooo wanna play!”

“Listen to your Papa Pete, you need all the rest in the world after that shock. I’m sorry this happened to you. I should’ve seen it coming and helped you.”

“It’s okay! I’m okay! See?” Peter smiled.

Tony smiled back, “I can definitely see that. Nothing stops my little one.”

“How about a cozy resting day? Just the three of us? That way you can heal and you won’t be without your Papa and Dadee. We can watch whatever movie you want. How does that sound?” Strange offered.

Peter smiled at his two amazing Caregivers, “Yes!! Just one thing?”

“Yes?”

“Can we invite Uncle Wong too. But make him promise not to turn me into a fish…please.”

The two Caregivers laughed, “We’ll make him promise not to turn you into a fish.”

#age regression #age regressor #agere little #sfw agere #little space #agere #sfw age regression #agere post #sfw littlespace #age regression blog #age regression community #sfw age regressor #age regression writing #age regression sfw #age regression fic #ageregression #agere blog #agere community #caregiver!tony stark #caregiver!stephen strange #cg!tony stark #cg!stephen strange #little!peter parker #little blog #sfw little stuff #sfw little #sfw little blog #sfw little community #sfw little post #agere fandom

[swimmingismywholelife]

Shoot Your Shot

Summary: Now that Chelsea's season is over, you show your support for your best friend (and his teammate too)

Warnings: best friend!kepa, suggestive comments, pretend Kai is single, just a fun post really

A/N: Truly I'm in love with Kai Havertz and this is really just an excuse to post about him also thank GOD this season is over Chelsea's been absolutely shit

~~~

yourusername & kepaarrizabalaga

Liked by kepaarrizabalaga, kaihavertz29, and 8,517 others

yourusername: I know it wasn't the greatest of seasons, but I'm still so ENDLESSLY proud of you. You won Save of the Season and the hearts of so many. Now onto one final game for the National Team! Te amo Kepa estoy muy orgulloso de ti 💙💙

kepaarrizabalaga: Gracias amor te amo 💙💙

kepaarrizabalaga: although you never post me so I'm side eyeing you a little

yourusername: I'm not sure what you mean I would NEVER have an ulterior motive!

kepaarrizabalaga: ......let's pretend like that's a true statement but okay

k3paloveme: they're such bestie goals I'm CRYING

chelseafc: that's our Kepa!

arrizabalagainmyheart: he's literally the only reason we weren't relegated 😭

y/npleasesteponme: kepaarrizabalaga would you be willing to share bestie y/n I promise I'll only take her on the weekends 👉🏽👈🏽🥺

kepaarrizabalaga: honestly you can keep her full time I'm tired of her stinky ass

yourusername: EXCUSE ME you're the one who hasn't showered so who's stinky now man y/npleasesteponme I'll be your bestie CLEARLY I need a new one

kaihavertz29: 👀👀👀👀

Kepathekeeper: Kai??? What are you doing here?

~~~

yourusername & kepaarrizabalaga

Liked by kepaarrizabalaga, kaihavertz29 and 7,802 others

yourusername: also Kepa if you could introduce me to your hot friend here and give me his number that would be great thanks 💙

kepaarrizabalaga: YOU WITCH I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP WITH YOU

yourusername: I stand by my statement I have no ulterior motives I'm just supporting my favorite team 😇

kaihavertz29: why ask Kepa when you could just get it from the source love?

yourusername: you make a good point hey Kai wanna give me your number 👀👀👀

kaihavertz29: good girl look at you learning fast I'll call you soon

yourusername: ....Lord have mercy on my soul I- 😳

kepaarrizabalaga: OH G O D SOMEONE BLEACH MY EYES

kingkai: I feel like I'm intruding on something wtf

chelseastan57: yo me too but I'm kinda here for it ngl

kailover_29: they're doing this on main too they've earned my respect

benchilwell: kaihavertz29 mate your season might've been shit but post season is looking real nice 😜

kepaarrizabalaga: PLEASE don't encourage this

Taglist: @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @masonsrem @masonspulisic @bracedes @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @mortirolo @chelseagirl98

#kepa arrizabalaga #kepa arrizabalaga smau #kepa arrizabalaga x reader #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #swimmingismywholelife

[spaghettiwench]

Lucy as the Golden Blade AU headcanons because the comic I did for it a little bit ago started gaining some traction. Please enjoy some of the thoughts I had while drawing it:

-Lucy joins up with Fittes after the Screaming Staircase and becomes the apprentice of the Golden Blade after Penelope realizes how strong of a Listener she is.

-Lucy leaves for Fittes in part because she wants to keep her promise to Norrie in becoming one of the best agents in the business and in part because she doesn’t want to lose a team that she truly cares about all over again.

-She refuses to wear the Fittes uniform but finds herself wearing gray more often than not (sometimes she’ll wear splashes of blue because she really likes the color)

-Gale pushes her to her breaking point when it comes to both rapier skills and her psychic abilities, making her incredibly powerful and skilled with a blade by the time she crosses paths with Lockwood and co again.

-Lucy and Gale do not like each other in the slightest. Gale is annoyed that he gets stuck training some snot nosed brat and Lucy is pissed because no matter how hard she works she is never up to his standards. Nonetheless he trains her and she shows up every single day because she would never give him the satisfaction of thinking that she’s hiding from him or not up to the challenge.

-I like to think she volunteers for jobs where she might be able to run into George and Lockwood again. Not because they’re friends (of course not they’re sworn enemies at best) but because she likes to bait them.

-Also she finds that Lockwood is a fantastic sparring partner and keeps a detailed count on who wins what battles. She keeps a tally in the inner cover of one of her sketchbooks.

-The night at Winkmans warehouse both Gale and Lucy were in attendance but only Lucy ends up catching up with Lockwood and dueling him. Lucy holds that over Gale's head for months, accusing him of losing his touch because of his cripplingly old age. He never fails to remind her that even though she caught Lockwood she didn’t manage to actually beat him.

-She uses that point as a reason to push herself even harder at rapier practice, she’s determined not to be bested by him again.

-Lucy will never admit it but she looks forward to her confrontations with the small agency. Going out of her way to keep up with their cases in the papers and magazines. Deep down she likes them and remembers their friendship from when she first arrived in London. Secretly she believes she owes them for being a stepping stone in her success, and she never stops feeling guilty for leaving them behind in the way that she did.

-The more she crosses paths with Lockwood and George the more she starts to regret abandoning them for Fittes.

SPOILERS FOR HOLLOW BOY/CREEPING SHADOW/EMPTY GRAVE PAST THIS POINT

-Lucy meets up with Lockwood and co again when they go and visit Chelsea for the mass haunting. Fittes even has her working on the case so she gets lumped in with Kipps and his team.

-The chase at the parade is basically the same except instead of Lockwood and Lucy helping each other out they’re determined to see who can catch up to the attacker first. It ends with them pulling out the rapiers by the river, almost coming to blows before they’re found by other people.

-Lucy goes with Kipps to Aickmeres and it ends up playing out the same exact way. Lucy gets teamed up with Holly, the two argue, Lucy ends up saving Holly before herself and falling down into the old prison. She still sees Lockwood as the Fetch and he still comes down after her. So when he offers her a job, to come back to Lockwood and Co, to be part of a real team again, she has to refuse. It breaks both of their hearts when she does it.

-Okay this is where I start to deviate from cannon a bit more so bare with me

-Lucy has no idea that Fittes and Rotwell are opening spirit gates, at the end of the black winter is when Penelope finally trusts her enough to let her in on the secret

-Lucy is obviously horrified by the idea and runs away. She has nowhere else to go other than to the one place she knows is safe. The only place that might offer to take her in, and runs off to Portland Row.

-Of course they take her in and after the Creeping Shadow case she officially becomes the newest member of Lockwood and Co.

-Absolutely flips her shit when the skull starts talking to her when she first moves in

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #george cubbins #holly munro #quill kipps #the empty grave #the hollow boy #the creeping shadow #the screaming staircase #the whispering skull #the golden blade

[happyinjection]

Episode 12 is THE CHAOTIC MESS THAT I ORIGINALLY SIGNED UP FOR LMAO I can’t stop laughing the entire episode... THEY REALLY PUT THE HIGH IN HIGH CARD?

Chris and Finn are now legally buddies or gay or whatever like there’s literally no straight explanation... but I support!!! Finn go save and knock some sense into your immortal man!! Chelsea helped too!!!! Now BAN KLONDIKE is into Chris as well!! 

It’s insane how the entire show is legit about him and his dramatic little feelings but we forgive him... because he’s Chris (and he looks so pretty when he’s crying).

I get it, we are ALL into Chris Redgrave! Our favorite BAKA ROMANTICIST!! The reddest of all red flags! The entire Fourland can share him!!!

That aside I’m growing a terrible soft spot for Leo Constantine Pinochle oh my god I really wish I can read his novel right now... He deserves the world and everything! That’s our HIGH CARD LEADER!!! OUR ONLY BOSS!!!!!! MAKE WAY

Also it’s really nice to see Lovepi-chan again... I’ve seen Lovepi and Arya and Sugar and Nhat and now I can safely say that I love women. More please...

In the end, with the combination Finn’s resolve (obsessive love for Chris, I can’t defend him anymore), High Card teamwork (somewhat, but also fueled by obsession with a certain man), Bernard-jiichan and MOST IMPORTANTLY Vijay being the only sane guy for the -nth time (why not just do that from the beginning and save everyone the trouble, you ask), everything ends well(?)

See, I’m frankly not a big fan of deus ex machina and happy endings but I can see that there’s gonna be more materials covering High Card found family shenanigans and I love those so I’ll let it slide! And props to Massun for the emotion he put into that “Play, X-hand” line, that’s literally the only moment I could take this episode seriously (teared up).

Now into serious business we go! A 2nd season is already confirmed and I don’t see why they would make us wait for too long (especially when things have been planned ahead), so if I had to guess, 2nd season would be airing 2023/2024?

I hope they will show more of what the hell’s going on in Klondike and Pinochle and whatever they’re beefing about, Finn’s past, Tilt, and... please!! What’s the deal with the sunglasses that Chris gifted Finn! I need to know!!!

As we wait for S2 please gush out your fanfics, my Monday nights are gonna feel empty for a while...

#high card #spoilers

[f0point5]

wtf, when did the parasocial girlies find your blog? go away, please. i think lando is a good kid, but they make me wish for him to be exposed for being a shitty person so they can finally understand they don't know him at all. also, since when not liking lewis' arrogance equals to being racist? lewis post-2021 is just a baby throwing tantrums because, for the first time ever, he was told 'no'. simple as that. a pity because he could've retired as one of the greats in all aspects.

I honestly have no clue. I picked the wrong day to tag lando I guess. Or they were previous lurkers idek.

Fr Like I don’t want him to be exposed because the weight of all that hate, no one deserves that and he’s said he struggles with it. But at the same time it’s like…this is your Angel? Genuinely I think he seems like a cool guy but in what world is Romeo Beckham’s friend, who slides into the DMs of every Made in Chelsea wannabe with a pulse, your sweet unproblematic bean that needs to be saved from one of the 57 Instagram models he has on speed dial? Can we be so serious.

I’ve said a million times, I don’t know Lewis from Adam, I don’t know what he’s like when the cameras aren’t rolling. But I don’t like the vibe he puts out, the things he says, how he approaches things, doesn’t align with my values and doesn’t appeal to me. I also don’t like his outfits. If that makes me (who is the same amount of black as he is, mind you) racist, then my mother (who is black) will find Christmas a real hoot 🙄 but yeah, he should have retired in 2021. But I guess you never know where you’re going to be, right? Maybe in hindsight he’d agree, but you never know when you’re at your peak, it’s hard to walk away when you don’t realise the ship is sinking. So I kind of get it. And now it’s like, you have to go out on a high so you have to climb the mountain again before you can go.

[septembersghost]

what songs from present day would you want to hear elvis cover?

ANON!!! 🥰💕 i love this message an enormous amount, and then it tormented me for two days because i read it and instantly forgot every modern day song i've ever listened to somehow lol. the actual problem was, i felt like i didn't have a solid enough handle on today's genres that he might lean more towards or that would do him justice? i was sitting here frantically thinking of songs by pop girlies™ and i could hear him softly laughing over my shoulder. so i was going to give you a short answer.

then i ended up looking at my actual music library and came out with a novel.

first, i sent this to both my loves @joons and @headfullofpresley in my initial dilemma, looking for suggestions. sidenote: if anyone would like to add to this, you're welcome to!

chelsea gave me three that i think are simply marvelous and i will weep forever that we cannot have them: million reasons by lady gaga (the taste this has, the vision this has. I bow down to pray, I try to make the worst seem better, Lord, show me the way to cut through all this worn out leather. I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away, but baby, I just need one good one to stay. hello?!), praying by kesha (well, you almost had me fooled, told me that I was nothing without you, but after everything you've done, I can thank you for how strong I have become, 'cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell, I had to learn how to fight for myself, and we both know all the truth I could tell, I'll just say this is "I wish you farewell." I hope you're somewhere prayin'...I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known, I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh, when I'm finished, they won't even know your name...can you imagine how much i would cry?), and love on the brain by rihanna (baby, I'm fist fighting with fire just to get close to you, can we burn something, babe? and I run for miles just to get a taste. i NEED to hear how he would arrange this).

tam i know would say peace (there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west, I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come, if you're standin' with me) by taylor. also slow dancing in a burning room (this is the deep and dying breath of this love that we've been working on. can't seem to hold you like I want to, so I can feel you in my arms, nobody's gonna come and save you, we pulled too many false alarms) and shadow days (did you know that you could be wrong, and swear you're right? some people been known to do it all their lives. but you find yourself alone, just like you found yourself before, like I found myself in pieces on the hotel floor. hard times help me see, I'm a good man with a good heart, had a tough time, got a rough start, but I finally learned to let it go...).

for my part, i feel like there is this endless list of songs i could mention from further back in time, but i wanted to pull from our modern era since you said present day, and i've been mulling some of my favorites in my mind. granted, elvis would play around with how these are crafted and produced, but in my head, i can hear these.

taylor is such an obvious go-to, and i wracked my brain trying to think of what would be right for him. something with her country flavor, or something with a bigger sound, a more rock-infused sound, like state of grace (PLEASE), like the story of us. but these jumped out - the original version of that's when. i love the duet with keith urban, but the original can be carried by one person. i can't explain, but it's very kentucky rain-coded to me. also just the story there, that idea that all these mistakes have been made, but the person you love is always welcome to come back. there's also an unreleased song of hers called just south of knowing why (drive all night) that is SO GOOD, and i hope it'll be on debut tv. for some reason i can connect it with him easily. "if I could drive all night, would I find my peace of mind? would it be a million miles of cold white lies and unfamiliar exit signs? I just drive on by, just south of knowing why. I don't have a plan, I don't have a map, I don't even know if I'm ever going back." lastly, and this is the biggest one, i toyed with a bunch of folklore choices (this is me trying...they told me all of my cages were mental...), but my brain just kept circling back to fearless, specifically to change. this is curious because i never used to like change, it's the re-recording that, well, changed it for me. the initial letdown of it (the final blow hits you, somebody else gets what you wanted again, and you know it's all the same, another time and place, repeating history and you're getting sick of it), and then the hopeful triumph overcoming it (but I believe in everything you do). the spirit of it - and we'll sing hallelujah! anyway i cried thinking about this so that tells you everything.

to the lady gaga connection, can i say that el would sound phenomenal singing any number of the songs from she and bradley's version of a star is born? always remember us this way. alibi. music to my eyes (i know it's a duet!). and especially maybe it's time.

harry's version of just a little bit of your heart where he made it rockier (I know I'm not your only, but at least I'm one, I heard a little love is better than none). canyon moon, you just have to trust me.

and it hit me, LITERALLY ANYTHING by lord huron?! there's an entire playlist of elvis-as-lord-huron songs that i could make, but if i can only choose one, i'm going to say the man who lives forever. (ends of the earth? time to run? love like ghosts? the night we met? louisa? wait by the river? love me like you used to?) also he'd make fool for love really fun.

miscellaneous choices i adore from my library that i know he'd transform amazingly: green eyes and a heart of gold by the lone bellow, in the light by the lumineers, let's be still by the head and the heart, morning comes by delta rae, ghost towns by radical face, the weight of love by snow patrol, all of me by john legend, river by josh groban, you and me by niall horan (time's never been on our side, so would you wait for me?). wait for it (death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes, and we keep living anyway, we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes, and if there's a reason I'm still alive...). breathe by la'porsha renae (I swear I pray every day, but still nothing's changing, feels like my life might need rearranging. you say that you're here and right now is a test of faith. so open up my heart and have your way, I'm sinkin' in my thoughts, so pull me from the waves, my head's above the water, you're my sweet escape. I need you just so I can breathe).

songs that are absolutely bonkers to choose, but i know how they could be re-worked somehow, i can HEAR it i just can't psychically share it with you: miley's never be me, aly & aj's symptom of your touch, hallelujah by alicia keys, someone new by hozier, graveyard (acoustic) by halsey (they say I may be making a mistake, I would've followed all the way, no matter how far. I know when you go down all your darkest roads, I would've followed all the way to the graveyard), golden by fall out boy (and I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies, and all the lovers with no time for me...i like to cry idk), and simply because it tickles me as she is a huge fan, lana's get free. there are couple of lyrics in it that i question how he'd feel about, but this is modern elvis, i can open him up a little. here's why i couldn't help but choose this, in the end: there's no more chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, their arches are illusions, solid at first glance, but then you try to touch them, there's nothing to hold on to, the colors used to lure you in and put you in a trance. sometimes it feels like I've got a war in my mind, I wanna get off, but I keep riding the ride, I never really noticed that I had to decide to play someone's game, or live my own life. and now I do, I wanna move, out of the black, into the blue.

i could honestly go on forever, but have one last song, and it's an oldie (probably a cliche, but i do not care!), and that is landslide by fleetwood mac. considering how i feel about e's cover of bridge over troubled water, i think if i could hear him sing landslide i might be fixed forever (or shattered, but still healed somehow). picture this with me: I took my love, I took it down, climbed a mountain and I turned around, and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down. oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? can the child within my heart rise above? can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? can I handle the seasons of my life? well, I've been 'fraid of changin' 'cause I've built my life around you, but time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm gettin' older, too. it would be beyond beautiful.

honestly, for anyone reading, if you don't understand what i'm talking about in regards to the way he transformed and brought the incandescent soul out of songs, i just...please listen to this. my entire heart forever.

#elvis presley #i actually can't talk about his version of bridge over troubled water at length publicly. it's too close to my heart. it's so important. #everything to me #but anyway that except with landslide. would be magnificent #also runnin' up that hill in the older songs section #i'm sorry this is SO LONG omg and this is RESTRAINT?! i STOPPED myself?! #you should not give me an excuse to daydream about him singing things my imagination runs away with me #i love him sm :( #please consider this a music rec list too 💖 #anonymous #letterbox #i was a dreamer #* #music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent #without music life would be a mistake

[ariendiel]

hey would like to see someone else's opinion, what would the season (any season) be like if mc were a man, I always wanted to see this perspective but I always wanted to know someone else's view

Ohhh, I love that idea and would've loved the game to have explored this at some point. I of course am most familiar with S2, and will therefore answer this with that in mind.

So, MC as a man is such an interesting concept. Imagine getting to chose to join the gym crew or be more laid back with Bobby? Maybe form a bromance with someone and – if fusebox had the guts – maybe even couple up with another man! Like, imagine Operation Nope but it's a man that steals Noah from Hope (and Hope could be clearly into the male MC too for ultimate, delicious drama) 👀

Because I imagine Bobby as very much not straight, I imagine him being a possible LI along the way. Honestly, the game should really embrace the LGBTQIA+ community, and I'd love if Bobby could be an early MLM option in this scenario. Not everyone wants slow burn drama after all, and Bobby getting to explore his sexuality that way would be amazing.

I also like to imagine how the drama must seem from a male MC's point of view, and especially getting to stay in the Villa during CA. Like getting to tell Jakub off for not being loyal, maybe discuss with Rahim why he's swapping to Shannon, tell Gary that maybe Lottie isn't a great person...

I also love that this would open up for romancing characters like Priya, Chelsea, Lottie, Hope, Hannah, and the CA girls. I mean, imagine a male MC stealing or saving Shannon from Rahim? Or getting with rHannah only to have her steal the money from him? I for sure think it would give an interesting perspective of the characters, and from a very different pov.

What do you all think? Please come with your own ideas as this was very much me just rambling ✨

#ask #litg s2 #love island the game

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Hey vanity I remember you saying something about if you wrote twilight again you'd make the Romanians and the Volturi darker. Any headcanons on that?

Please Vanity I need my fix. I'd remember you said you'll fund it because you don't do rehab.

Hey I'll pay if I have to... just name the price

(This is a joke btw. Don't feel pressured. I loved that last fic you posted)

When I tell you this had me hysterically laughing 😂😂😂...

Headcanons, I don't really have- mostly just thoughts of what I could differently and revamp some characters.

So I tend to wonder myself. Like a part of me thinks, they're less approachable. A.K.A Demetri and Felix- I'm looking at you buds.

I also wonder if some -like the Romanians- have any kind of compromising bone in their body? Like realistically, women have had to spend years fighting for their right to be heard and taken seriously. We still have people out there who would take that away and they aren't centuries-old vampires. So would a very old vampire male who has always gotten the first and last word be willing to give up that kind of power? I see this as one of the Volturi or Romanian covens thinking "Oh you want to do this? Tough shit. It's my way and that's that." Covens like the Cullens that interact more with humans have changed with the times but I wonder to what extent older and isolated covens would still be stuck in rigid ways and how that would go with humans who are of this time?

Beyond a revamping of sorts for Demetri and Felix- I tend to think about the level of violence. The Volturi have definitely gotten their hands dirty over the years and the Romanians literally enjoy torture.

Although all of this could be utter bullshit because I've recognised from writing for different fandoms that I have written for twilight frightened of what people take of my writing and what people will accuse me of rather than just let the story write itself without fear of judgement of those few who take it too seriously. Whereas say for Batman, it has been a case of expect shitty actions from shitty people. I think we all know the Volturi and the Romans especially are a collective of shitty people so anticipate shitty behaviour that's driven by outdated philosophies.

But I'd definitely say Caius, Demetri and Felix needed to be amped up a notch.

The flirty or goofy Felix should be reserved for those he is friends with or more at a certain time or place.

Demetri should be almost silent, as he has been in the books and movies. This might be mistaken as being shy but is really a predator ready to strike at any given moment. When he's interested romantically, that's when he becomes the irresistible dude he knows he is😂😭

For Caius, I'd like to put him more to use. Whilst he is undermined and overruled by Aro constantly throughout the movies. I'd like to display this as a rarity rather than a constant crutch. The two are sadistic lil' shits who bond over this.😂

For Marcus, I think I'd like to have him more of darker side too. Like beyond Chelsea there's a reason why he's still there. He isn't always this zombie who saves the day per say because he likes a good love story- all of that.

I dunno, these are just things that pop into mind. I think their brutal reputation could be kicked up a notch in my writing but worry about the consequences of that since this blog is only for fun and only intended to have fun. Not to mention I think I'd like to have the other Volturi guards more known in my writing.

I'm curious! Let me know what you guys think!❤️

P.S.

what did I say I'd fund now!? What did I get myself into this time?😭😂

My price...

Hmmmmm...

Could do with more Volturi and Romanian content? Anyone willing to annoy SMeyer into giving me that Volturi book or Romanian coven stuff? Not sure if I trust it but beggars can't be choosers!👀

#vanity needs to stop talking

[steelycunt]

hello ridi how are u! how's ur sourdough starter! is the weather ok! is the weekend treating you nice... what cookies do you plan on making? what are you reading rn? are you writing anything? do you like long chapters? what's ur deepest secret! what's the best kate bush album (no incorrect answer to this one)! have you watched any new shows or movies recently & what do you think of them? and most importantly pick & choose from these questions the ones you feel like answering like an ask game...

omg hi hello...what a fun ask i feel like ive been stopped by one of those online street interviewer people...but a lovely one obviously...i am okay!! how are you i hope youre well!! sad to announce that my sourdough starter well i killed him didnt i. deliberatelyhe was just getting so needy and i felt like i was working very hard for him for such little reward so in the end i decided to save my flour xx which is fine because i can now use it to make cookies!! brown sugar chocolate chips ones which are beautiful if i can get them right...and if i can get into the kitchen because my dad is in there cooking atm.

this morning i finished chelsea girls by eileen myles!! sort of a memoir/poetry/essay collection non fiction read with a kind of strange tumbling prose at times (brought to mind kerouac a little? but maybe not) so there were bits i liked and bits i didnt but the bits on like the lesbian scene in new york in the 70s and 80s were really interesting!! my next read is going 2 be mr loverman by bernardine evaristo i have the most gorgeous copy : ^ ) i dont mind a long chapter if the books good...i do appreciate small bitty chapters can make long ones feel likea slog but that is a good thing i think. makes u take ur time with a book makes u slow down a bit. as for writing!! i am currently writing the [redacted] au which is going alright now ive started making some actual progress on it now (albeit slowly about. a scene every day and a half) and im really enjoying it!! have been writing some poetry also although i find poetry far more difficult to write so those are likely to never see the light of day but its still fun to try it out : ^ )

best kate bush album i think either the kick inside or the dreaming. the dreaming is incredible and ofc it has suspended in gaffa on it one of my all time favourite songs xx i like hounds of love too although i think that one is a bit overrated just in comparison to some of her other albums. recently i have watched a few films!! velvet goldmine (which i didn't like) and aftersun (which i did), aftersun was incredible i heavily recommend xx oh and my deepest secret...well of course ill never tell.. xoxo gossip girl (<- ive never seen gossip girl). thank u for this ask it was so fun!! please pop back in and let me know how YOU are bab ill make us some tea xx

#anon #telegram #: ^ )

[ravenadottir]

Hi V. Let me rant a bit please! I came back to litg after more than a year (playing S2 of cource!). MC coupled up with Lucas on Day 9 and they stayed together until CA. MC saved him from getting dumped with Blake and the next morning they had a chat on the roof terrace and he said that "he doesn't want to step on anyone's toes". Whose toes are we talking about? His own? Blake said that "first she approached Lucas but then she hit it off with Lucas!" Does the game see him as 2 persons? Why???

(off topic but i really like when people call me V 🥺))

this happens on lucas' route, when you don't have a second option that would choose you during disaster recoupling.

if, for whatever reason, you had a break up with lucas, there would be a second boy asking you about the recoupling, or to have the bathroom intimate scene, and he's chosen after you say their name to the girl that asks you about it, in the morning.

that person is programmed to be the one disappointed about lucas/henrik/noah stealing mc. but if you're on a loyal lucas route, the game just repeats the names all throughout casa amor and afterwards.

whenever i go through lucas' route this is what i get.

it's also hilarious if you say his name when chelsea asks you, by the pool, who you really want to be with (during the dialogue about miniature foods), because during the text and 'mr. and mrs. challenge', it's supposed to be the person you mentioned to her.

so if you say lucas' name, he's keeps "staring in jealousy" even though he's winning it with you.

lucas and henrik are the only people this can actually happen but i kind of like it, it's cute, 'cause it really goes to show when you have a loyal route.

#litg #litg lucas #love island the game #litg s2 #litg season 2 #love island the game season 2 #queue

[the-ic-corner]

A guide to Dinamo Zagreb

An introduction for my Milan mutuals, by your local hrvatskaboo who occasionally watches Dinamo.  

Goalkeepers

Dominik Livaković (or Livi) is the first goalie and vice captain of the team. He’s been with them for god knows how long because he refuses to sign for some shitty english club. He often has a worried expression on his face, but he has seen horrors beyond your comprehension as the goalie for Dinamo and the Croatian national team. Looks like a tall worried frog when he’s wearing green. Don’t underestimate him though. He’s saved our asses so many times.

On the bench: Daniel Zagorac, Ivan Nevistić

Defenders

Dino Perić is the tallest guy on the pitch at roughly 1,98 m. This absolute unit of a man is one of my personal faves. But don’t be scared, he’s a gentle soul. He will cry if he’s injured or gets a red card. Literally, there’s multiple sad photo’s of this. He’s an avid reader and very smart, but dumb enough to fall for crypto currency. We’ve nicknamed him Finance boy. 

Stefan Ristovski might be a familiar name for some of you. He captained North-Macedonia when they beat Italy in the World Cup qualification. Please don’t hate him! He kinda looks like Ante if you squint (and you’re missing Ante really badly) so I’ve nicknamed him Makedante. 

Rasmus Lauritsen is a surprise name. Somehow a Danish guy got lost in Croatia and signed for this club. He seems to like it a lot, but the hot weather sometimes gets too much for him and then he decided to shave his entire head. Hence his nickname Baldritsen.

The others (I don’t have much to say about them): Sadegh Moharrami, Daniel Štefulj, Kevin Théophile-Catherine, Josip Šutalo, Emir Dilaver.

Midfielders

Robert Ljubičić is the one with that big head of curls. You can’t miss him, unless he decided to wear a bun, which is a crime. He’s a young talent and really surprised us this year!

Luka Ivanušec has made a couple of appearances for the national team and is definitely one to watch. How do you find him? Well, he appears to have a big d*ck as it’s basically always on display, bulging out of his shorts. Yeah I’m serious.

Martin Baturina looks baby, is baby. He’s 19 but you better watch out. Consider yourselves warned about this massive talent.

Arijan Ademi captains the team and you may also know him from that lovely North-Macedonian squad. You laugh at his underbite while he fouls the shit out of you. 

Petar Bočkaj was deemed too fat by Dinamo officials at the beginning of the season, but in this house we don’t judge. It’s called thicc and he proved he can definitely score goals with that plump body.

Also there: Antonio Marin, Josip Mišić, Marko Bulat.

Forwards

Mislav Oršić is a name you should know. He has scored hat-tricks in both the Champion’s League and the Europa League before. Famous for kicking out Spurs last year, for that he earned the nickname Daddy. Last week he scored the goal against Chelsea. He seems to hate English clubs in particular but who knows what he’ll do against Milan...

Bruno Petković is that handsome man up front who will bodyslam his way to goal and then try to do a bicycle kick. He can be really good, but sometimes his goal-drought is worrying. Together with Ivanušec he makes Team Big D*ck and not just in energy.

Also watch out for: Mahir Emreli, Josip Drmić, Gabriel Rukavina, Luka Menalo, Dario Špikić.

#dinamo zagreb #ac milan #champions league #a totally biased introduction

[blackink-onpaper]

The Descend and the Resurface

Damian Hart (Beyblade) x OC

Summary: OC comes from a complex background, and in the midst of trying to save it all and help her family she enters a strange arrangement, which will change her life forever.

Masterlist 🖤

Tags: Beyblade, Beyblade Metal Masters, Zeo Abyss, Jack, Damian Hart, OC, Gingka Hagane, team Starbreaker, team Gan Gan Galaxy, dr. Ziggurat, Hades Inc.

A/N: (ambience suggestion) this chapter and the next will go along with the canon storyline, for this chapter watch Beyblade Metal Masters episode 92 if you like, it’s available on youtube! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 15

Early in the morning, when the sun had just come up to creep over the miles of empty desert surrounding Hades City, I woke up to see I was alone. At first, I thought Damian might have gone to the bathroom, but then I recalled they had to do a round of Arrangement before takeoff to the final battle. Returning to my own room, I took a refreshing cold shower and washed my hair, before moving onto planning my appearance for the day. A cheeky thought crossed my mind as I was flipping through my folded clothing, as I considered dressing in Damian’s colours as a sign of support: this was my first public appearance with Starbreaker, after all.

Checking the schedule match time on my phone, which was at noon, I understood I had to be ready at least an hour earlier in order to be on time. I dried my hair and curled it into very loose and unintentional waves, and did my makeup lightly but a bit more sophisticated than usual, because I was unsure if I will be a target for the paparazzi, although I definitely intended not to be and remain hidden if possible. For clothes, I decided on a white linen button down tucked into my straight white ankle length jeans, black chelsea boots with a small blunt heel, and my powder blue Dior bag I got as a gift from Julian’s mom a couple of years ago for my birthday - the colour would serve good as a reminiscent of Damian’s hair. To complete my look, I painted my bare nails black to match my boots, and added gold chain bracelets as the final touch: I was very pleased with my look. Just after texting Ziggurat’s assistant for details, I also remembered I had a thin black velvet choker in my jewelry bag which I immediately added to my ansemble, excited to see if anyone is going to notice.

At breakfast, a familiar situation happened with boys from the Academy; there were too many looks and whispers for me to not notice. I tried to ignore them, but I think today’s match got them too excited to remember some manners. Nonetheless, I did my best to tune them out and read what Ziggurat’s assistant texted me back:

Dear Camila,

The departure time is 10:45AM by helicopter. Please be present in section B3, platform 4 at that exact time to meet the team. Your tickets have been sorted, please find them attached.

‘Great’ I thought to myself, because I had just enough time to finish my meal slowly and make it in time. At 10:40, I was already at the platform, and I was surprised to meet Zeo there. He seemed very, very upset:

“Zeo, are you okay?” I came up to him, but he slapped my hand away as I tried to touch his shoulder, yelling:

“Leave me alone!”

I stood in silence, with shock caught in my throat. He then realised what he did:

“Camila… I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He said in an almost sobbing voice: “I couldn’t finish my Arrangement again, and if I lose Toby-“

“Zeo listen to me” I interrupted him, realising he needs to hear a proper pep talk: “What does Starbreaker stand for? The American flag, and breaking stars: breaking stars like Masamune and Gingka” he stared at me, probably shocked at where my sudden agency came from: “and you were not picked up from a dumpster to play, you were selected as a rarity. Please remember this!”

He stared for a second longer, before clearing his throat, and then giving me a strong, tight hug: “Thank you Camila, really.”

“Well well, what do we have here?” Damian’s voice echoed behind us, he was accompanied by Jack. Zeo broke off the hug gently: “Camila helped me with my nerves before the battle, which is usually a captain’s job.”

“There’s no need for nerves, Zeo. Simply don’t dissapoint and everything’s fine.” Damian brushed him off with his trademark grin.

“Damian!” I gasped at how inconsiderate he was being.

“I’m not even being rude” he said to all of us very bluntly: “I am just saying if he recalled the number of zeros behind his training costs and his paycheck, he should forget all about nerves!”

“Now, now, kiddies” Ziggurat came up to us as well: “No commotion please. Today is an important day.” He shot me a glance as well: “Starbreaker is about to make history, Hades is about to make history, and we also have our debut with Camila.” He added the latter in a noticably more condescending tone, but then again I was just an accessory in this narrative. We boarded the helicopter and were brought to the stadium by 11:15, accomodated to a room in the backstage.

“Camila, from what I understand you’re on the first row next to the exit, correct?” Ziggurat asked in a very dry manner while looking over some paperwork. The boys and I were seated at a table:

“Yeah, right next to where Starbreaker stands.” I caught Damian’s glance.

“Excellent” he concured, before flipping his folder closed: “Could I please ask you for a few minutes alone with the boys?”

I hated how cold and alienating talking to Ziggurat made me feel; as if every answer I said was considered mostly incorrect but tolerably acceptable. I agreed and left the room, deciding to have a small walk along the hall before coming back. Strolling around the empty tunnel-like hallway, my boots’ short heels made much more noise than one would’ve expected. Because of this, I didn’t hear other footsteps approaching from behind:

“Ah, sorry miss do you maybe know where the bathroom is?”

I turned around, equally surprising and being surprised by Ginka and the girl that accompanied them: “Gingka!”

“Camila! What are you doing here?”

For some reason, I suddenly felt utterly embarrassed to say I am here with Starbreaker because the last time he saw me I was wheeping for Excalibur; I also didn’t feel like doing myself a disservice in a moment where I didn’t have time to explain myself properly:

“I am actually also looking for the bathroom!”

“Ah good let’s look for it together!” He smiled at me, the girl adding: “Yeah, the bathroom can’t remain hidden from three people looking for it!” I followed them to the bathroom, which ended up being nearby, and reapplied some lipgloss just to do something until they came out of the stalls to wash their hands:

“Guys, I need to go now, but I wish you lots of luck okay?” I smiled at them, although I was lying through my teeth: “Have you found a third member?”

“Ah no, unfortunately I’ll probably take on two from Starbreaker. We’ll see who though!” Ginka smiled at me, with no idea he was talking to a Starbreaker informant: “Thank you, please cheer for us!”

“Of course” I gave them a thumbs up, adding: “see you out there!” Before swiftly leaving to return to the Starbreaker room.

After closing the door behind me, I realised the boys were by themselves and Ziggurat had gone somewhere:

“Gan Gan Galaxy don’t have a third member” I announced, observing Damian for his reaction: “I just ran into Gingka and that girl in the bathroom”

“Resourceful” Jack said in a kind of flerting voice. Damian grinned: “Look at you, Camila, a real Star-breaker.” He alluded to the metaphor I told him last night. Soon after, Ziggurat returned and I had to depart to get my seat before the match began. I was nervous and excited, mostly for Damian’s sake, but also for Zeo and Jack; I wanted to see Damian win and to see Zeo get his revenge against that moron Masamune. With the exact strike of noon, the presenters announced the final battle with energising theatrics:

“The first team to arrive are our very own US representatives: team Starbreaker! There they are!” The one in the ridiculous white suit and tophat announced as the boys stepped out into view. I clapped very hard, and tried to whistle as a sign of support but failed miserably at the attempt.

With a blush, I observed how attractive Damian looked in the displays on the screens across the stadium, as the presenter resumed: “These finalists have won their way here with complete ease! Making a live appearance today is this newcomer: Zeo!”

“Zeo! Zeo! Zeo!” I clapped and chanted.

“And the guy who might carve out his art of victory into the stadium again today, the true artist of Blading: Jack!”

“Wooohoooo! Jaaack!” I clapped even harder, knowing my darling is up next:

“And last but not least, the fearsome guide of Hades, his opponents tremble before him: Damian!”

I stood up and managed to push out a whistle, clapping my already pink, sore hands: “Go Damian! Break stars!”

Gan Gan galaxy was announced next, and I saw Starbreaker were talking something inaudible among themselves before Jack noticed where I was, and waved at me. Zeo waved as well, while Damian shot me wink and a pearly winner’s smile. The first battle between Masamune and Zeo was announced, and I was back on my feet again cheering him on.

The beginning of the match was quite dramatic, as Masamune and Zeo exchanged a heated argument before ripping: one that is very cryptic to those who are not familiar with what happened between them. Zeo’s tall Bey resisted Masamune’s continuous reaches for an attack, which was an entertaining start to say the least. But the entire match was laced with absolute hate; a side of Zeo I didn’t see even when he was telling me about Masamune and Toby. Zeo’s special move had Masamune’s Striker in a chokehold, so I expected the match to be over soon. But then Gingka yelled some instructions to Masamune, telling him to strike Byxis from above.

“How is this fair?” I uttered under my breath. I wondered how is it allowed to help out your teammate in the middle of a battle like this, while the American fans booed loudly with the same idea in mind. According to Gingka’s instructions, Striker descended onto Byxis with great force. But then, Zeo suddenly burst with a massive wave of blue, cold energy, which blew away pamphlets from the hands of the audience; but where did this come from? Consumed and confused with the situation, I was at the edge of my seat trying to understand what I could expect next. Zeo was yelling something that was unintelligible to the audience because of the wind and sounds of the energy burst, when suddenly - it was over.

“Did he win?” I heard a boy sitting next to me ask his friend, as we were all onlooking over each others’ heads to see the outcome. Masamune was unconscious, his bey next to him, and Zeo was on his knees briefly before slipping onto his side, fainting as well. I assumed this entire and abrupt win was the result of the Arrangement, and because this was my first time seeing Zeo in battle I understood how much struggle he had to go through to get this far; he truly deserved this win. A brief recess was called as Zeo and Masamune were taken away on stretchers, but the crowds blocked every milimetre I could move in, so I was halted from joining Starbreaker in the backstage and forced to simply await the next match between Jack and Gingka.

#beyblade #beyblade fanfiction #damian hart #damian hart x reader #oc #beyblade jack #zeo abyss #masamune kadoya #beyblade gingka #gan gan galaxy #beyblade damian #beyblade zeo #beyblade metal fusion #beyblade metal fury #beyblademetalmasters #beyblade smut #anime #gingka hagane

[chelseacatgirl]

What newcomers need to know about me

Here are what newcomers need to know about me in order for certain things to stop.

And here are the reasons why I don't do commissions of any kind that is IRL money or fake online currency, art trades, nor free art of any kind, they are NOT excuses, they are reasons:

1: Those who disrespect my rules and boundaries: There are sick creeps who disrespect my boundaries, I even had a traumatic experience with that sick Disney lewd obsessed creep named CraigClark111 on DeviantArt who requested me *Out of all people* to draw a picture of Jenny Foxworth *A DISNEY CHARACTER FROM OLIVER AND COMPANY* in a bikini! He said to me "Hey, can you draw Jenny Foxworth in bikini?" Which was really creepy! I even had to delete that comment and block him for not respecting my rules and boundaries, I hate seeing Disney characters in fetish/NSFW content! I was one of his many victims, you should block him too for being very rude and disrespectful to other people's rules and boundaries.

2: Lack of free time: I can't be asked to draw for people, I should be playing video games, watch shows, movies and videos, go out to places, or be with family and friends, not be chained up to a desk to draw random stuff for random people without breaks. 

3: My art style and content: There are people who hate my art style and have a nasty habit of criticizing them for no reason and without my consent, and they will even attack me if I did what they told me to do. There are also people who will make false assumptions about me over my certain content that features only fictitious stuff while never messing with IRL people and never mis-using other people's OCs, also my art and content are NOT hurting anyone.

4: Impatient people: There are people who can be very impatient with me when I do requests for them whenever I took a break, where they will say "How's my request?" Or "What's taking so long with my request?", and they will ask the same question over and over again, which will get very annoying.

5: Life: Same as reason 2, I am a human being with real thoughts and feelings who has a life to live.

6: Bullies: There are bullies who would trick me into doing requests that would harm either me or other people. In the past that took place in 2009-2011 on DeviantArt, I was requested by a cyberbully who's a Happy Tree Friends fan to draw hate art of me *Which I didn't do*, another incident is where there was another cyberbully who's an HTF fan too that tricked me into doing an art trade with them, I did a pic of their HTF OC in SFW art while I asked for a SFW HTF art featuring my old HTF OC and one of the characters from that said show, the finished art they did for me was hate art of me *In a form of NSFW art that violates DeviantArt's rules that I NEVER asked for* that was kink shaming and what they did to me was sadistic, wrong, fetish shaming, and cyberbullying. The legion of HTF cyberbullies were the reasons why I no longer love Happy Tree Friends, and also one of the many reasons I don't do requests and art trades anymore.

And finally....

7: Ridiculous requests: Same as reasons 1 and 6, people will just request something stupid, hurtful, impossible to me, or even something that makes me severely uncomfortable, I can't say no because I don't have a voice and even if I did, they'll just attack me, such as bullies making false assumptions about me, especially in 2009-2011 where they claim I'm 8 years old when I'm not.

Please stop coming to my page for art, I am NOT your mindless source of free art, it's extremely rude and disrespectful, I have a life to live, so please STOP treating me like an art slave and save your requests, art trades, and commissions for someone else who ACTUALLY does either of them, and please, have respect for artists next time.

----

Drawn on ibisPaint X on my Samsung Galaxy Tab A.

Sonic the Hedgehog series (c) Sega/Sonic Team

Chelsea the Cat (c) Me

#Chelsea the Cat #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Team