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iconic-position · 1 month

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Honeymoon without friend's sister's wedding

My colleague friend's sister gave me a chance to tear her virgin pussy! We all the office people had gone for a walk. He had also brought his sister.

Suhail and I are very good friends and have been working together in the same company for the last four years.

This story of Indian virgin pussy is absolutely true and there is not even an iota of lie in it.

This sex story is of August 1st last year.

My salary had come at that time.

One day Suhail and I planned to take me and his team out somewhere.

Suhail agreed to my advice and made a plan to go to Matheran.

I said yes to that.

To stay there, hotels and rooms etc. were all booked.

Then the day of our departure also came.

When we all gathered, a beautiful girl was with us in our team.

I was shocked to see him and felt completely confused.

She was looking as if God had given her all the beauty.

And she was also looking at me as if she had liked me.

On enquiry, it came to light that she was Suhail's sister.

Her nature was very open minded and she was very open in conversation.

Later Suhail told him about me and from here the friendship between me and him started.

Her name was Iqra.

Initially we all had planned to go by train so we all reached the station.

I was sitting next to Suhail and Iqra in the train.

I was sitting on the window side.

Then Iqra said that I have to sit near the window.

Suhail and I moved a little and I gave him my place and gave him the seat near the window.

Now she was sitting near me.

That first touch of her body, the sensuous smell of perfume coming from her clothes was driving me crazy.

I felt like taking Suhail's mother's cunt...just take his sister Iqra in my arms and start kissing her wildly. Give love bites on her body.

Thinking this, there was movement in my pants.

After some time, Suhail asked him to rest a bit and went to sleep.

Our journey took several hours.

When Suhail fell asleep, Iqra said - Look, this brother also came here to stop his snoring. This is a completely bored man.

Hearing her irritation, I laughed and said to her – I am Iqra, just talk to me! She laughed and started talking to both of us.

In the beginning she was calling me sir.

But when I asked, he started calling me Nick.

Many things happened between us.

Here I also flirted with Iqra.

She was well aware of the habits of boys, so she would smile at my flirtatious words, and sometimes she would blush.

During our conversation the topic came to relationships.

Meaning, we both started discussing each other's life partner.

I told him about myself – I am single and you?

He told that he is also single like me.

To tell the truth friends, I had fallen in love with Iqra.

But whether it was love, attraction or excitement... I don't know, but there was a stirring in both my heart and my pants.

The penis also started bouncing like a heart.

After finishing our journey we all reached the hotel.

Suhail was in his room with his GF so he requested me to accommodate Iqra in my room with him.

Suhail had expressed my feelings.

Iqra also smiled and I also said yes.

Iqra first went to freshen up and take bath.

At that time she said – Nick please give me my top and jeans, they are left outside.

I heard it, but I put on headphones and pretended that I was listening to music. I also started humming the song.

When Iqra did not get my reply, she opened the bathroom door to see why I was not responding to her.

He saw that I was busy listening to songs with my eyes closed.

Then he thought that without disturbing me, he himself should come into the room and take his clothes.

She wrapped her wet body with a towel and came out quietly.

He thought that if my eyes were closed, I would not see anything.

But as soon as she moved her hands towards her clothes, I stepped on her clothes and opened my eyes.

Iqra did not get angry, rather she was laughing and saying – Hey, leave it, friend!

His style burnt me from bottom to top.

I jumped towards her, threw her on the bed and proposed.

At first Iqra was surprised, but also angry and she slapped my cheek in such a way that I saw stars during the day.

Then when I separated, she said- Come here!

As soon as I went near him. She kissed me lovingly and said what idiot proposes like this? Do it the way I kissed you, then you will agree!

This green signal from his side became the reason for our wedding night.

I immediately pounced on her and kissed her and said - Iqra, even though I have seen you for the first time today, I have fallen in love with you at first sight, I love you Iqra, love you so much.

She also said that I had also started liking you and love you too Jaan.

Now many romantic moments had started passing. It was as if both of us were connected to each other's lips. Both of our tongues started trying to defeat each other.

After about ten minutes I removed her towel. She was looking amazing in bra and panty.

Understand that she will simply kill me with her sensual manners and such beautiful youth.

Now I started pressing her boobs and was kissing her.

At first she refused but then started supporting.

While slowly kissing her body, I removed her bra and panty.

Bhaisaheb… what a pussy she had… as if it were rose petals.

Here he stopped me and asked me to remove my clothes.

I said- Darling, now this body is yours, so you do this work only.

She very politely removed all my clothes one by one.

Seeing the tent forming inside my underwear, she said – Lilla… Your love is so big and cruel… How will I bear it?

I pulled down my underwear and said – Darling, kiss this gift of yours!

He denied.

I said- love the gift…don't reject it.

But she was not agreeing to put the penis in her mouth.

After a lot of my persuasion and persuasion, she kissed and licked and moved her face away.

When her tongue tasted the salty taste of the penis, she started to understand that taste in her own mouth.

I winked at her and shook my penis and she started sucking it.

Barely any time passed that she took my entire penis deep inside her mouth and started sucking it.

Brother… it seemed as if my penis was about to burst due to the buttery touch of her tongue.

Man...I couldn't control myself.

I held her head and inserted my penis deep into her throat.

Not only did I enter, but I kept the ball in check.

She started struggling.

Ignoring her, I pushed my penis deep into her throat and pressed its head to my buttocks.

It seemed as if I had gone mad.

The prisoner's breathing started stopping and she started struggling with her hands and legs very fast.

After this action of mine for a long time, when she came free, she said angrily - Who loves like this?

She became very angry.

I lovingly pressed her breasts and said sorry.

The bitch was doing a lot of drama.

I too was helpless… what could I do? It was the first time that I had such a wonderful sucking and such a buttery feeling… such an unusually beautiful girl… how could I let her go like this!

After a long time, after making fun of sister's daughter, she agreed.

Now I made her lie down and started moving my penis on her Indian virgin pussy.

Started slapping her pussy with the cock.

I was rubbing my penis on her virgin pussy.

She said – Nick, I have not done it till date and your tool is so big, how will I be able to bear it… I am very scared.

I said- Keep watching darling… there will be slight pain… then you will get the feeling of heaven. This is my guarantee.

She started laughing that you give guarantee in this also, do you understand the meaning of this?

I immediately turned the topic around and said – There was no need for me to say it my dear, you have also read this and know that there is a slight pain at first but after that it is just fun.

Pressing her lips she said – Yes, I know!

Now when I tried, my penis deviated from the hole of the Indian virgin pussy and slid down.

Then I set my penis properly and gave a light push.

The head of my penis and some part of it, meaning only about one and a half or two inches of the penis must have gone inside, when she let out a sigh.

He said- Take it easy darling!

But now I was not going to hear anything. I gave a hard push and the penis broke her membrane and went inside.

When the membrane broke, blood came out and she started crying in pain.

I wiped her tears, kissed her and loved her.

As soon as her pain subsided, I took my penis out a bit and pushed it back hard.

My entire penis tore her virgin pussy and went straight inside to its root.

His condition worsened.

Seeing her suffering, my lust became more aroused.

I started fucking her.

Her tears were flowing continuously, but she could not scream even if she wanted to because her brother was in the next room.

After some time, when the pain subsided, she also started cooperating by raising her ass.

Now I started working like a machine.

After about 15 minutes of intense fucking, by the time I was about to ejaculate, Iqra had already ejaculated twice.

Now I wanted to ejaculate deep inside her pussy.

I did the same… it seemed as if she was feeling the greatest shame in the world due to the heat of my thick semen.

He rested for a long time.

I brought the medicine to him from the medical store and gave him it.

During that four day trip to Matheran, I fucked her 15-18 times and fucked her in different positions.

Traveling during the day and fucking all night.

During that time, one day I also fucked her ass.

I will write about how her ass was opened in the next sex story.

#adult model #eat my pussy #fuck my body #hot as fuck #lick my pussy #my post #sexy breast #sexy content #sexy tease #wet ass pussy #sexy titts #sexy pose #adult human female #fine as fuck

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gloomzombie · 7 months

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I'll Bury You For This

Pairing: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: Underage Drinking

Word Count: 4,568

Chapter Three: Dance, Dance

Ch. 1 Ch. 2

August 20th. 3:35pm.

“Hey Y/N!” Gage greeted me at his front door with a shy smile. It had taken me no time to get to his house. He lives relatively close to me. I smile back at him. “Hey. Thanks for letting me come over.” I adjust the strap of my backpack. “Of course, I’m surprised you-” “Well are you just going to stand there? Let your new friend inside!” He was cut off by an older woman’s voice.

I assume that’s his mom. Gage blushed and stepped aside. “Sorry.” I was met with the soft smell of roses and was embraced by warm arms. I was caught off guard by it, stumbling back a bit. “Oh, sorry sweetie! I always get excited meeting any of Gage’s friends.” She pulled away from me, covering her face in embarrassment. So that’s where he gets it from.

I take in the woman before me. She looks young, but I can see the faint smile lines grazing her soft, round cheeks. Her deep brown, curly hair falls down on her shoulders gracefully. She has Gage’s eyes, and his nose. Well- I should say he has her eyes and nose. She’s wearing bright red lipstick, and her off-the-shoulder dress matches it. She must be going somewhere.

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” I reassured her. “I’m Gage’s mom, you can call me Ms. Taylor.” Ms. Taylor moved her hand away, a smile tugging at her lips. “Nice to meet you Ms. Taylor. I’m Y/N.” I introduced myself. She giggled. “Oh, I know. I’ve heard all about you from Gage here.” “Mom!” He whined, which I found really cute.

“What? I’m sure he’s aware of how much you like him.” She teased. I could tell they had a good relationship by the way they talked with each other, something I wish I could’ve had with my own mom. “Oh, I’m very aware.” Gage’s gaze dropped to the floor and he played with the end of his sweater. Ms. Taylor guided me inside and gave me a small tour of the place, showing me every room inside their two-story house. Their house is much nicer than mine. It’s clean and it doesn’t smell bad. There aren’t even messy piles of random things everywhere. Once she finishes showing me around, we go back to the front door.

“I’m actually going to be late for my date, so I’ll see you boys later tonight.” She gives Gage a kiss on his cheek, to which he whines, swatting her away. She giggles and is about to leave, but she turns at the last second.

“Oh, Y/N. I know you’re 17, but it’d just make me feel safer if I had your dad’s number.” My smile dropped and I started chewing on my bottom lip. “Uhh, yeah, about that.” I glanced over at Gage, then back at her. “Can we talk, privately?” Gage seemed to take the hint, leaving up the stairs. Ms. Taylor shut the door, a confused smile playing at her lips. “Yeah, go ahead.” I inhaled sharply.

The downside of making new friends is opening up about John and our situation. Most adults don’t understand why I “complain” about having to take care of him. They all basically expected me to be alright with it, since he raised me on his own and provided me with the things I needed; as if you should be rewarded for the bare minimum. I should be grateful for the fact I even have a father, is what they wanted me to see; but I’d rather have no dad than a dad like him.

“There isn’t any easy way to say it…but my dad has dementia. I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s really a point, Ms. Taylor.” I keep my gaze at the ground by her feet. My face felt hot as I spoke the words I never said aloud, and it felt like time around me had stopped altogether. I can hear the sound of my racing heartbeat, burning in my ears. Suddenly, her arms were around me and I was bathed in the strong smell of her perfume.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I understand, don’t worry about it, okay?” I feel her hand in my hair, rubbing my head in soothing circles. I stood there stiffly. I bite my lip hard, not trusting the sudden raw feeling in the back of my throat. I move my arms up to hug her back. We stood there for a few seconds, until her comforting arms eventually fell back down to her sides. I look up at her once more. Her smile had not faded, and she looked at me as if she could feel what I was feeling. I clear my throat. “Thank you,” is all the words I could mutter.

She shook her head. “Hey, I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to say it. Thank you for opening up to me.” That’s new. I gulped, trying to stop myself from letting the tears fall from my eyes. I nodded, not wanting to speak anymore because I knew it’d break me. Trying to speak to adults about it is really difficult, because everything that’s draining me are things I’m expected to do. I’m supposed to take care of him when he barely took care of me.

“Well, if there’s anything you boys need, just call me. There’s spaghetti in the fridge whenever you want to eat.” Ms. Taylor gave me a kiss on the cheek, then made her way back to the door. “Have fun, and make sure when you go to see that band, Gage locks the door.” She left before I could process that she knew about it.

Well, it’s not like it was a secret. I made my way up the stairs and to where I now know is Gage’s room. His door was left slightly ajar, so I pushed it open. Gage was sitting on his bed, on his phone. I looked around, taking in how he’s decorated his space as I shut the door. “Oh, hey Y/N. I already set up the DVD player.” I nodded in response, still looking at his room.

He had posters lining the walls of bands like The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, and London After Midnight. “Huh, I didn’t know you were into goth music.” I looked over at him. His face flushed and he moved his phone up to cover his mouth. “Yeah, it’s my favorite. I just don’t talk about what I like a lot.” I frowned. “Why not?” I asked, sitting down next to him. He pulled his knees up to his chest. “I don’t know. No one ever really listened when I did, I guess.”

I tilted my head to the side. How could anyone not listen to him? He’s probably the sweetest guy I know. I moved my hand to his cheek, brushing his hair behind his ear. He looked over to me, his face becoming all rosy. I can’t help the smile that grazes my lip. Watching him get all flustered makes me feel…nervous. “I’d listen to anything you had to say.” He put his phone down, a shy smile appearing on his face. “Really?”

“Of course. How could I not?” I looked at his lips, slowly dragging my gaze back up to his eyes. I watched as his blush became more prominent as I got closer to him. I take his face into my hands gently, and place a kiss on his forehead. “Pretty boy.” I muttered against his smooth skin, and I could hear him inhale sharply. I pulled away, smiling. “Let’s watch the movie now.” He nodded once, covering his face, and getting up.

“Is the um..” He cleared his throat. “The movie in your backpack?” I nodded and he unzipped it, going through it. He soon pulls out the movie, Sweeney Todd. It’s one of my favorites. I talked to him about it yesterday, as we were on the topic of musicals. He told me about how shitty this year's play is going to be, since he’s usually always in them.

Apparently, they chose one of his least favorite musicals. I told him how Sweeney Todd is my favorite, and talked about the plot and the characters. He was listening so intently, as if he was really interested in what I had to say. It was so sweet; I’ve never met anyone that listened to me as much as he did. Gage got up and put the movie in the DVD player, pressing play on the title screen.

5:28pm.

The movie ended, and I stretched my arms above my head. Sometime during the first murder scene, Gage had snuggled up next to where I laid in his bed. His head rested on my chest, and he started blushing when I played with his pretty hair. I couldn’t help it, he’s too cute for me to not mess with. Gage looks up at me and I smile. “How’d you like it?” I asked. “I’m not a big horror fan, but it was actually really good.” He smiled back at me and I ruffled his hair with my hand, watching his lips turn into a pout. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve loved it since I first saw it.”

“I think Anthony’s cute. " He giggled a little. My smile turned into a little smirk. “I knew you liked twinks.” Gage gasped and playfully hit my chest. “No, I do not!” He exclaimed. I started laughing and he sat up, scooching away. “Go get ready, Y/N.” He huffed, a blush evident on his pale cheeks. “I already am.” I smirk, getting up. “Buttt I guess I should start going now. I don’t want to be too late.” I stretch my arms above my head, cracking my back. I can feel his gaze on me, as my shirt lifted up a little when I stretched. “Y-yeah, you should get going.” I look over at Gage and smirk. It wasn’t my intention to tease him like that, but if it works…

We head downstairs to the door together and as I’m about to leave, he wraps his arms around my waist. I wrap mine around his in return. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. I think I’m starting to develop an actual crush on him, but that’s not something I want to dwell on while in his arms like this. He pulls away a few seconds later. His hand flies to cover his mouth. He must be smiling too. “I’ll see you later, Gage.” I give him a kiss on the forehead before turning to leave. “You too, Y/N.”

It didn’t take me too long to get to the location of the bar. Once there, I locked my bike up at the bike rack nearby. I shove my hands in my pockets, taking a good look at the surrounding area. The sky is a deep blue, hints of orange pricking up at the horizon, signifying sundown is soon. Across the street are many small shops like a tattoo and piercing place, a barber, and a nail salon, amongst a few small food places.

I sigh and tap my foot on the ground. “Y/N!” I turn at the sound of my name. I see the familiar face of Lily and her friend, Stacy, who waves at me with a polite smile. I walk up towards them. “Hey, for a minute I thought you might’ve ditched me” I teased. “Oh, I would neverrr.” Lily giggles.

I take a good look at the way she’s dressed. The dress code at school limits some of the things she’s wearing. Her hair is styled into a bat’s nest, which wouldn’t be allowed either. She adorns a black lace dress that hugs her curves, and a few rosaries that hang over her chest. Fishnets with cross prints squeeze her legs and are followed down by her platforms- which have more crosses hanging from them.

“You done checking her out?” I focus up on her friend and can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. “Sorry, I was admiring the fit.” I replied as casually as I could, to mask my embarassment. Stacy gave me a smug look, obviously not buying it. “Oh,” Lily’s face flushed and her gaze drifted down to her feet. “I didn’t mind it..” She bit at her lip and I looked away, feeling the heat in my face grow. Ah jeez. I hope I’m not making her uncomfortable, that’s the last thing I want to do.

“Anywayysss,” Stacy starts, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go in before they start.” She grabs both mine and Lily’s hands into her own, practically dragging us inside. As soon as we step in, I’m overwhelmed with the aroma of alcohol and sweat. God, I sure am glad I didn’t bring a jacket. While the temperature outside is cooling down as nightfall begins, the heat in here is undeniable. I don’t have time to ponder on it as Stacy drags us to the bar. “Let’s do shots!” She exclaims, a sly smile on her lips.

“Stace, you know we’re not supposed to! I don’t want us to be kicked out already.” Lily reminds her. A slight smile tugs at my lips. I think I like Stacy already. She’s my kind of crowd. She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, fine. I’ll get handsome over there to buy us some!” She runs off towards some guy before either of us can protest. Lily sighs. “I love her but she stresses me out sometimes.” I turn my gaze over to her. “Hey, don’t worry too much about it. We’re not gonna get kicked out.” I try to reassure her.

She bites her lip. “Mm, if you think so. I just need a distraction.” She bats her eyes at me, her hands held together. I take a good look around, now that Stacy isn’t here to drag me somewhere. There’s quite a bit of people, but it doesn’t feel crowded. The atmosphere makes me a bit uncomfortable, only because I’ve never done anything like this before. As I pay more attention to the people, I notice their style. Most of the people here are dressed goth, with a few punks and emos too. Realization suddenly hit me. Of course it’s a goth bar, Y/N, SHE’S goth.

“I mean, isn’t your brother and his band going to play soon?” I asked, looking back over at her. She was already looking back at me. “No, actually,” she started, her face flushing. “There’s a band playing before theirs.” She fiddled with the ends of her dress. I nodded. “Oh, I should’ve thought.” I looked over toward the small stage area, noticing a few people setting up instruments.

I look back at Lily. “Hey, do you want a drink? I mean, a non-alcoholic one that is.” I smile politely. The least I can do is offer to get her something. Her black lips curve up into a smile. “Sure.” I take her hand in mine and walk with her over to the bar. Once there, she props herself up onto one of the stools. I take the stool beside her. The bartender is laughing with one of the waitresses about something before he notices us, and makes his way up. “Hey Lils,” He smirks, “Didn’t know you’d be bringing a boyfriend.”

I feel my face flush. “Oh, we’re not-” “A couple,” Lily finished my sentence for me, her gaze down at her lap. The man glanced at me and her. “Uhh-huh. Well, what can I get ya’ then?” He asked, directing his attention mainly towards Lily. I mean, he does know her, so I take nothing from it. “Just some coke please,” Lily mutters, her hair partially covering her face as she looks down. “Cool. And for the boy?” He turned his attention to me. “Do you have chocolate milk?” I asked, a smirk tugging at my lips. His expression lightened a bit and he laughed. “Yeah, we got chocolate milk. I’ll get that right for ya’.” He went to a fridge behind the bar. “Chocolate milk?” I look over at Lily and she’s giggling, her pearly white teeth showing from behind her lips. I smile. “Hey, chocolate milk is fucking good.” She giggled more. “It is, but at a bar?” “I mean, it’s not like I can get any of the fun stuff.”

The bartender comes back over with our drinks, placing them down in front of us. “So, how do you know Lilith here?” He asks as I take a sip of my chocolate milk. I gaze over at her. I didn’t know that her full name was Lilith. “That’s such a beautiful name. Lilith. “ I couldn’t help but say. I watch as she flushes under the colorful lights, her gaze turning away from mine. I shake my head, feeling my own face flush in embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” I murmur. The bartender starts laughing, making me feel even more ashamed. “I know her through school,” I start, trying to move the conversation along. “On the first day, she came up to me and said she liked my shirt.” The man holds eye contact with me as I speak, then he chuckles. “Of course she did. What band was on it?” “Carnifex.” I turn my head at the sound of her voice. She has her hand up to cover her mouth, and her gaze elsewhere. The colors dancing on her skin change from blue, to green, to red…

“I’m back!” Stacy runs up to stand beside Lily’s stool, a smile on her lips with her lipstick slightly smeared. Lily tears her gaze to Stacy and she rolls her eyes. “Did you hook up with that guy?” She asks, taking a sip of her coke. A smirk appears on Stacy’s face. “Oh hell yeah. He was actually pretty good with his stuff too. Not too handsy, not too much dirty talk. Seriously, what makes a guy think “You like this dick, baby?” is gonna turn a girl on?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Stace.” Bartender guy butts in. She giggles. “Sorry, Spence. Y’know I take what I can get.” She takes a seat on the stool by Lily, and Lily’s attention is now fully on her. They start talking and after a while, I tune it out and look over at the people in the bar. Drinking sips of my chocolate milk, I almost spit it out when I see a familiar set of icy blue eyes, slightly hidden from strands of black and choppy hair. I blink a few times, but it was 100% Jeff I was seeing.

I stand, placing my glass on the bar. If anyone stopped me, I tuned them out as I focused on approaching Jeff, my pace a little faster than usual. I walk up to him and he doesn’t notice me until I’m right in front of him. He adorns his mask as usual, but he’s dressed less casually. His usual plain hoodie and black sweatpants are replaced by holey jeans and a black button up shirt; his usual bare neck isn’t bare now. He wears chunky chains and a razor blade necklace. “Done checking me out?” He mumbles. I meet his burning gaze and roll my eyes. “Nah, let me drink you in more.” He huffs in response and I continue. “What are you doing here?” I wonder aloud.

He lets out an annoyed laugh. “Why would I tell you?” He shifts his weight onto one leg and I smirk playfully. “Because you’re obsessed with me.” He scoffs. “Tell me,” I insisted. I don’t really know why I want to know so bad, but I don’t dare question it. We stood silently for a minute, the only noise being the sounds around us; the music of the first band playing and the chatter amongst drunken adults- and probably teens. He eventually rolls his eyes and I fight back a grin. “For your information, smartass, I’m here for the band that’s playing.” He finally answers. I don’t know what I wanted, but that’s not the answer that I expected to hear.

“Seriously? You? Goth music?” I raise an eyebrow. “No offense, but you seem more the type to listen to metal screaming rather than sad goth singing.” His eyebrows furrow and his pale eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner, squint. “You can not be fucking talking, Mr. I always listen to screamo so fucking loud you can hear it through my dollar store earbuds.” Deciding that I’m bored with him is easy, so I choose to tease him again. “Mm, well isn’t that the kind 0f music that should turn you on?” I hum and bat my eyes, tilting my head to the side as I saunter forward. His eyebrow lifts slightly as he backs up, and I continue pressing on until he backs into the wall he was previously leaning on. I lower my gaze down to his feet, slowly dragging my eyes up to his face with a sly smile on mine. Suddenly, he does something that knocks the wind out of my chest.

He grabs my hips with his rough, callused hands and yanks me into him. I can’t hold back the gasp that escapes my lips as my hips meet his. As I gaze up at him, I notice just how close our faces are now. I can hear my heartbeat drum in my ears. I feel the blood rushing in my face. The only thing between us is the cloth of his black mask. “Y/N?” I jump away from Jeff quickly and snap my head towards Stacy. “Yeah?” I can feel the hot sting in my ears as I speak.

Lily stands beside Stacy, biting her lip as she stares at her feet. Stacy smirks. “Wasn’t that the new kid?” She giggles as she watches me struggle to find what to say. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, “Yeah, yeah it was.” Though Stacy is the one interrogating me, my attention is on Lily. She’s quiet, and I wonder what she’s thinking right now.

Ugh, what if they’re homophobic or something? I mean I don’t keep the fact that I’m gay a secret, but I didn’t really mention it to them before. “You got really close there, didn’t you? Are you two, like, boyfriends or something?” She twirls a strand of her auburn hair in between her fingers, an innocent smile on her lips. I chew on my bottom lip, gripping the ends of my Metallica shirt to steady myself. Though her words are honey-coated, I’m not sure how she actually feels about it. Why should I care if they don’t accept me? I just met them this week.

“No, he’s not.” I sigh, but it’s barely audible over the loud thrum of the music. She still doesn’t drop it. “Do you want him to be?” Her voice sounds slightly softer, though it’s still evident she wants to ask just to make conversation about me. Her question makes me think, and think hard. Do I want him to be? I can’t…I’ve always played with people’s feelings like this, just for something to keep my mind away from the traumas that happen inside my house. But actually feeling something?

“Ooh! I think I see Azazel!” Stacy completely disregards the question, grabbing Lily lightly by the arm excitedly as she jumps up and down. While Stacy finally lets me breathe, I glance over to where Jeff and I were just pressed up against each other, only to find that he’s nowhere to be seen.

The show goes by in a bit of a blur. Lily’s brother, Azazel, actually has a really nice voice. Goth music usually has to be specific for me to like it, but he and his band were really good. Stacy mentioned their name to me before, Dead In Her Casket. I never saw Jeff again, and I still feel jittery at the memory of the feel of his hips against mine. I try not to think about it. Lily’s been quiet the rest of the night and when I’ve tried talking to her, she gives me very plain responses. I feel like I’ve upset her, but I don’t know what I did to make her feel that way. I hope she’ll tell me eventually, because I don’t have a clue and I won’t until she speaks up.

The ride home feels like forever as I feel the chill of the autumn breeze blow against my bare arms. When I finally reach Gage’s house, my phone reads 9:57. I huff as I put my bike up, then make my way to the front door. I knock on the door and wait, and a few seconds later, the door swings open and I’m met with Gage’s sweet face. “Hey, come in.” I follow him inside, making sure to shut the door behind me. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I’d be coming back.” I bit my lip anxiously. I now realize how stupid it was to leave without telling him a time I’d be back.

He only shook his head and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” Coming from anyone else, I’d have probably kept overthinking things, but his words calm my racing brain. His face flushes as he reaches and takes my hand in his. “I’m watching that show you mentioned before.” He started as he led me upstairs. Show? I try to remember what show I talked about, but I can’t. “Which one?” I ask, following him into his room. I look at his TV and a blush of my own creeps up my neck. “Supernatural.” I answer for him and look back over at him. He has that sweet smile on, the one that makes me want to just grab him and kiss him. “Yeah. The way you talked about it Wednesday made me want to. You just were so happy when you talked about it.” I can’t help but smile. He pays so much attention to me.

I don’t know whether it’s the adrenaline from the events of today or the alcohol in my system- Stacy managed to snag us some vodka- but I pulled Gage into my chest, shocking both him and myself. His lips are soft, just like everything about him. He tastes like tea; the herbal tea he loves to drink and brings with him everyday for lunch. He’s still for a bit, and I almost pull back, but his fingers dig their way into my hair, pulling me even closer. The corners of my lips pluck up slightly and I wrap my arms around his waist. His breath is heavy as I walk him backwards until the backs of his knees bump into the edge of his bed. He gasps and I slide my tongue in his mouth, now properly tasting him. He’s so intoxicating, much more so than the shots I did earlier. I just want more and more of him.

“Gage! Y/N! I’m back!” The sound of Ms. Taylor’s voice coming from downstairs makes me break the kiss. Our breathing is deep and labored, and my face feels hot. He grins widely, and I mimic the expression.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta x you #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #slenderman

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cassandrattpd · 18 days

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okay after the ttpd season poll i just felt like typing up WHY i feel like each album corresponds to the following months, feel free to ignore~

january - speak now (the excitement of the holiday season is over so you're in a depression but you also feel like you should have hope because it's a brand new year you should be looking forward but everything feels barren and insurmountable and cold BUT DESPITE ALL THIS you remain persistent and determined and bright-eyed)

february - 1989 (it's icy slush on the city streets, a kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats, the frost on the rocky coastline, high tide came and brought you in)

march - midnights (after a long winter everything is thawing out and it's just MUD. sometimes it's still icy, but you're beginning to see spots of sun. and then out of nowhere you're pulled back into the dark.)

april - fearless (fresh and young like a little bud popping out of the soil!! with you id dance in a storm in my best dress fearless!! these new beginnings (her first very very big singles) bringing what was to come in her career = april showers bring may flowers)

may - (mayhaps ts12 will fit here, the proverbial may flowers?)

june - debut (as a teenager, the fresh freedom of summer. the warm sun, open fields, fireflies, the creek beds we turned up, the moon like a spotlight on the lake, just listen to the crickets sing!!!)

july - folklore (again the nostalgia of childhood summer, and NO it's not august because august is miserable and folklore still has hope. sweet tea in the summer! your back beneath the sun! suddenly this summer it's clear! living for the hope of it all!)

august - the tortured poets department (as explained before, like trudging through the satan's asshole of emotions. it's just muggy and excruciatingly hot and you're begging for the reprieve of a summer storm. another summer taking cover, rolling thunder. and when it comes, it's WORSE, because after it's gone you're in a soup and you can't breathe and you can't do anything except wait for it to be over)

september - lover (windows flung right open autumn air jacket round my shoulders is yours!! it was a cruel summer with you!! sacred new beginnings (you'll have new septembers). i've loved you three summers now honey but I want 'em all!! - the album itself has bright summer vibes, but it takes place at the end of the summer, reminiscing on the summer)

october - red (does this even need explanation 🧣 classic fall, classic nostalgia, autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place)

november - reputation (i recall late november holding my breath slowly i said you don't need to save me??? but would you run away with me??? fall is in full gear, clean and CRISP and CLEAR. you're focused on your family and tradition (us-centric), thinking about how that applies to your future. summarizing your year. focusing on what's important and blocking out everything else.)

december - evermore (again i feel like no explanation needed. the holidays linger like bad perfume. hey december guess i'm feeling unmoored. in from the snow, your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. barefoot in the wildest winter.)

#leanne.text #taylor swift

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ajoytobeheld · 8 months

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Turnstile, Bento Box #1

July 1st, 2009

Today is the unveiling of Turnstile‘s first ever free Bento Box give away. The premise behind this is that, often, Turnstile will ask its friends, artists or bands to curate a give away of tracks/art/media that it likes, for you, for free. The first in this series is a collection of tracks by current Turnstile signed bands.

As ever, the music speaks more than my words do, but among the four free songs are a track by the incredible Girls, who join us on tour right the way across Hamerica this coming August and an exclusive track from my favourite ‘new’ artist of the past year, Perfume Genius. All just a click and a mailing list sign up away:

Tracks from: Video Nasties Swanton Bombs Perfume Genius Girls

This comes highly recommended to all. If you’re already a fan of the bands, there’s exclusive stuff here, and if they’re new acts to you, then you’re about to be introduced to four very exciting new artists. Do it, and lemme know what you think of the tracks.

#2009 #gareth!blog #lc!blog

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

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Stuck - Part 2

Summary: Following the development in your relationship from maid x client, you visit Agent Walker on his invitation, with no false pretences of what is expected

Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, dildo’s, butt plugs, masturbation, voyeurism, anal fingering, anal sex, creampie, Sugar Daddy relationship, (no use of ‘Daddy’ as a petname)

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Part 1 can be found HERE, Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE All typos are allowed to run wild and free

Stuck - Part 2

Ringing the doorbell you heard footsteps this time, and were able to prepare yourself for Mr Walker opening the door - or so you thought. When the door swung open you could not have prepared yourself for the sight of him in smart black pants and a crisp grey button down shirt, the top couple of buttons opened to reveal a teasing glimpse of chest hair, his tie hanging loose and unfastened around his neck. He looked you up and down, taking in how your breasts were pushed a little higher, your ass a little rounder from the way the heels made you stand, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped to one side;

“Please, do come in”

As you stepped past him you caught a waft of his aftershave, dark and musky, a hint of sandalwood and rosemary. You stood fidgeting, glancing around the apartment and seeing that it was sparkling clean, telling you that you’d be earning your money a different way today. You didn’t mind, not in the slightest. The $2000 tip he’d given you on your last visit had paid your credit card bill and you’d been able to make your rent on time for the first time in months.

When the parcel had arrived on your doorstep a week ago with a note from Mr Walker you’d quickly glanced around the hallway, no courier or delivery guy having been seen, almost nervous to find what was inside. When you had opened the parcel it had felt like christmas morning, so many little treats all individually wrapped, a note from the high end lingerie store saying that they hoped you enjoyed the parcel. That night you’d tried on the exquisite underwear set, marvelling how the bra gave you the most amazing cleavage, the half cups ending just at the right place for your nipples to peek over the top of the lace. The panties had looked innocent enough from the front, but at the back it was a series of elastic straps that caged in your ass, the crotch non-existent and it gave you no false pretenses about what they were intended for. Having unpacked all the other treats - lipstick, perfume, bath bombs and scented skin oil, your favourite chocolates - you came upon one final gift and an envelope. Opening the parcel first you let out a small squeak when you saw the heart shaped jewel shine in the light from your lamp, the heavy metal of the plug smooth and cool in the palm of your hand. Grabbing the envelope you opened it, your hands shaking;

“Enjoy your gifts. I’ll make a booking soon. August x”

Back in MR Walker’s apartment you were distracted as he stood behind you, the only tell that he was there was the sudden feel of body heat warming your back even though he wasn’t touching you. When he finally spoke his voice was low and quiet;

“You can back out now and there will be no hard feelings. But if you want to stay and continue i can guarantee it will be worth your while in so many ways. So, what will it be?”

You could feel your hands shaking with nerves, hell, even excitement. Taking a deep breath you slid one foot back and moved until your ass was pressing against Mr Walkers crotch;

“I’d like to stay please. I very much enjoyed the gifts, Sir”

“Good girl”

He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you flush with his chest as his lips found your neck, working his tongue and teeth over your jugular as his hands gripped at your hips before moving to the zipper on the back of your dress. The metallic rasp of it being pulled down filled the hallway, the cool air hitting your heated skin soon soothed as he trailed his fingertips down the exposed deep v of skin. Pushing the formal maid’s dress down your shoulders you let it fall to the floor, the deep groan of appreciation that rumbled up through his throat making your body tingle with excitement.

“You look fantastic, i made the right choice with this set” he took hold of your asscheek; “Are you wearing all of it?”

Bending a little at the waist you pushed your ass out and felt as he pushed his hand between your legs, first touching your pussy before moving back and pressing against the jewel of the plug;

“Hmmmn very good. My good girl follows instructions well. Now put your hands on the wall and stick your ass out a little more”

“Yes Sir”

Stepping out of your dress you turned and laid your palms flat on the board and batten walls, this time the sound of a smaller zipper filling the silence before your legs were kicked apart and a hand pressed against the small of your back. Bending your spine you pushed your ass out, gasping as you felt the thick blunt tip of his cock nudging against your swollen petals, searching, seeking out its destination before pushing in fully in one firm thrust.

“Fuck. Your pussy is as tight as i remembered” he muttered behind you, yet you were unable to respond, your body tensing around the deep penetration that felt so good. You felt him spread his legs and set off at a brutal pace, fucking into you from behind, with each thrust his pelvis would push the plug into your ass stimulating you even more.

There were no words, just grunts and moans, and you could feel your legs starting to shake as an orgasm approached rapidly;

“I’m coming…”

“Not yet you aren’t… you’ll come when i tell you to come”

“”Yes… Sir…”

Gritting your teeth you tried to will the building orgasm to subside, but the way you were being fucked made it hard. Your left leg started to shake violently as you tried to hold back, Mr Walker ramming into you from behind before he finally grunted;

“Cum for me now”

You didn’t think you could orgasm on demand, but as you relaxed just the tiniest amount the levy broke and you came around his cock. That in turn set his orgasm off, and you were pushed against the wall as he came deep inside you, thrusting harshly into you as you felt him spasm deep within your walls.

When he pulled out you winced, quickly closing your legs as you felt his seed already start to drip out of you, and as he tucked himself back into his dress pants he winked;

“Good girl. Keep me inside” he reached for your hand; “Now come, a glass of champagne”

He led you to the large lounge, the pristine white leather couches and the soft net curtains giving the room a bright yet muted appearance. One wall was completely made up of floor to ceiling mirrors, and there were just a few houseplants scattered around the place to break up the stark white of the room.

“Sit” he called out from the kitchen before you heard the quiet pop of the cork.

“But… i’ll make a mess of your leather…” you called back, only to hear his voice as he approached holding two glasses of the golden frizzante.

“Doesn’t matter. For what i have planned you’ll be making even more of a mess than just a smear of my cum”

He handed you the glass and gently tapped his own against it before raising it to his lips, you followed and hummed as the bubbles smoothed over your tongue. He cocked his head and smiled, yet it felt like the look a viper would give its prey before it struck;

“Now, i said sit”

You did as he instructed, perching your ass on the edge of the couch before remembering the plug and wincing as you moved back slightly so you could sit on the whole of your buttocks to relieve some of the pressure in your ass.

Mr Walker hadn’t moved, and you were now eye level with his crotch, the outline of his cock clear to see as the fine fabric clung to him. Licking your lips you quickly sipped at your glass again before he tucked a finger beneath your chin to pull your gaze up to his face;

“Don’t worry, you’ll be getting another load soon… i have something else planned first… tell me a little about yourself…”

He stepped away and you watched him as he moved around the room, picking up a gift box and setting it down on the low table in front of you just out of reach, but saying nothing until he sat on the couch opposite you;

“I asked you to tell me about yourself…”

Stumbling on your words you tried to explain a little, unsure if he wanted a professional or a personal explanation, your arrangement seemingly a mixture of the two already. He sat with one leg hooked at an angle over the other knee, quietly sipping his champagne, his gaze intense as it never left you once. Finally he cleared his throat;

“Would you like to open your gift?”

Reaching to set your glass down, you took the box and rested it on your knees, pulling off the ribbon and lifting the lid, the gasp that fell from your lips immediately followed by a grin and somewhat unladylike snort of laughter, before focusing back on what was contained;

“Oh my god…”

Glancing up you saw Mr Walker eyeing you suspiciously, before you wrapped your hand around the contents and pulled it from the packaging, laying it across both of your palms as you gazed down at the heavy rubber dildo. It was so detailed, every vein and ridge perfectly formed, before a thought suddenly struck you and your eyes went wide;

“Is this… is this you?”

“I had it cast just for you” he settled both feet flat on the floor and you watched as he settled comfortably, his thighs wide apart; “Why don’t you give it a test run? Show me how well you take it?”

For a moment you simply held it, wide eyed at the thought of performing such an intimate act, but shook that thought from your mind as you settled back against the cushions, hooking both feet onto the edge of the low glass table in front of you, your heels hanging over the edge as you parted your thighs and trailed a hand down to your core, rubbing against the wet lace that was soaked from Mr Walker fucking you just a few minutes before. Lifting the dildo you considered it for a moment before spitting on it, bringing your soaked hand up and working the combined wetness over the thickness, pulling your panties to one side and resting the wide tip at your entrance.

Looking up you maintained eye contact as you carefully pressed the first couple of inches in and breached your tight entrance, your jaw falling slack as you felt the familiar yet different stretch. You carefully worked the rubber phallus back and forth, pushing a little more each time, helping to lubricate the shaft with your own essence as it filled you. When it was inserted enough you grasped the heavy ballsack, your other hand teasing your nipples as they peeked over the lace of your bra, trailing it down to your panties to rub at your engorged clit.

Working your body in the same way you had done so many times in private, thinking of Agent August Walker - even before your first sexual encounter with him - it was now surreal as you watched him palming himself through his clothing as you fucked yourself with the rubber imitation of him.

You could feel yourself getting close, the air in the room thick with lust as the only sounds were heavy breathing and the wet sounds coming from between your legs, when he called out;

“Stop”

With a whine you did. Pausing, waiting for his instruction;

“Take it out and stand”

The obscene sucking squelch as you removed the dildo from your aching core filled the room, before you set it down on the box and stood on shaky legs.

“Come here”

Your legs felt like jelly, crossing the room and standing before him, watching as he parted his legs further to make room for you;

“What would you like me to do Sir?”

“On your knees”

Settling obediently between his thick thighs, you were grateful for the extra long pile rugs beneath you cushioning your knees, resting your hands cautiously on his muscled thighs and looking up at him with wide eyes as he spoke;

“Lets see how good that mouth of yours is?”

Watching as he unzipped himself, at this angle his dick looked even bigger and more imposing than the feeling of it inside you. Shuffling closer you wrapped your hands carefully around the hot shaft, admiring how he was already rock hard and weeping with need. Leaning in you lapped at the clear bead that had pooled at the tip, tasting both him and yourself on his skin. Licking your lips to lubricate them you took a deep breath and descended on him, his girth stretching your lips almost painfully, working your tongue over the silken flesh. He gently smoothed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realised you had shed;

“Doing so well Princess… your mouth is as good as your cunt is…” his other hand wrapped in your hair and he started to control your actions, his hips rising in sharp movements as he started to fuck your face. He maintained eye contact as he held your head, moving you how he wanted;

“Cry those tears for me, i know they’re not tears of pain or discomfort… its just overwhelming, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t answer, your mouth and throat too busy being occupied by his heavy flesh, but you nodded and let out a tiny grunt; it felt so good, so depraved to be used like this, and as his thrusts got faster you prepared yourself for what was to come next… but instead at the last moment he pulled you off of him.

Gasping for breath you were wide eyed, no doubt your makeup ruined but in the quiet of his apartment you watched him as he gritted his teeth and regained his composure. Finally he spoke;

“Turn around and sit on my lap… legs together and bounce on my dick”

You stood and turned, backing up and bending over before he pressed a hot palm to your naked thigh;

“Stop. Bend over. Let me look at that silken purse”

Knees together you did as he asked, letting out a gasp as he ran a calloused thumb over the pouting lips of your sex, already swollen from the events that had led to that very moment, and as he teased out your nectar he smeared it on your skin.

“Very nice, holding treasures within…”

Dipping his thumb inside he drew it out and hummed in appreciation at seeing his cum mixed with your own on it, before tugging at the jewel of your plug and smearing his thumb under the rim to your sensitive opening.

“Hmmmn, another treasure waiting to be pillaged… but first…”

He took hold of your hip, pulling you back as he held his dick and lined you up with it, and at that hot searing touch of flesh you gasped. You were more than ready for him, craving his touch, your body accepting him as you stopped holding back and allowed gravity to take over until you were sat flush on his lap, speared deep and aching with need.

His warm hands smoothed over the soft globes of your ass before pushing against you back;

“Bounce for me Princess”

You did as he asked, starting off slow, the warmth of his palm against your back spurring you on as you started to move faster, your pussy dripping around him and with each wet slap of your bodies you knew you’d coated his balls and taint with your juices. On one downward fall you landed hard, groaning as you ground your ass against him and his hands suddenly clamped down on your hips to keep you flush with him;

“Stay”

You felt the tug on the plug in your ass, moaning as you felt it being pulled gently but persistently, moaning as you stretched at the fullest part before the somewhat disappointing relief as it was removed completely. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him set it down carefully on the small table to the side, and grab a small bottle of lube that had been sitting there behind a plant pot. You braced yourself for the inevitable.

---

August.

He’d paced the hallways of his apartment from the moment his hidden camera’s had picked up that you’d left your building; checking traffic cam’s and building surveillance to track your progress. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be nervous; he was in charge and you were simply a plaything… and yet when he’d heard the doorbell ring his stomach had done a little flip and he’d had to take a few seconds to calm his racing heart.

What had followed had been that of his wildest dreams; a woman pliable and willing, and yet still independent with her own thoughts. He’d had women simp over him and he’d had to guide them at every step, weak wristed and prudish with their own sexual desires… but with you… you were different.

For the time that had followed since you’d walked through his door he had told himself he couldn’t get too attached, this was a sexual relationship, one that suited his needs and that he controlled, but with every passing minute he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper.

And now here you were, sat on his lap and he was balls deep inside you, feeling your cunt tremble around his achingly hard dick, and at the sight of your tight back door winking as he’d removed the plug he’d almost blown his load right there and then.

Carefully pouring the thick lube on the crease of your ass he watched for a moment as it slowly ran down, before catching it with his thumb and massaging against your asshole, watching as the stretched muscle accepted him so eagerly. He worked the muscle open, moving from his thumb to two fingers then three, your moans as you accepted him causing him to grit his teeth so not to blow his load right there and then in your unprotected cunt. And he knew you were still unprotected, he’d kept track of your appointments and knew you hadn’t updated your birth control, it had been a mere three weeks since your last visit, and even if you hadn’t figured it out he sure had.

He could feel that you were ready, lifting you up before positioning himself at your prepared hole;

“Just relax Princess, i know you can do it”

He spoke softly, quietly… reassuring you as he watched you slowly stretching around him, and that first inch as he slipped inside you it took all his control not to slam deep inside your guts.

With one hand under your buttcheek he held you up as he could feel your body stretching, growing accustomed to his girth inside you, and as you started to relax he would slip inside a little further.

He was basking in the moment, the lewd and salacious nature of something he had done many times before, yet this time it felt different; the connection was there this time. As his mind reeled from the realisation that this time he was going to have to take into account his own feelings, you turned and grinned at him, and with a sly smirk sank down until you were fully seated with his dick filling your ass;

“OH FUCK…” August cursed, his hands flying to your hips and his head rolling back to rest on the couch as he fought not to blow his load right there and then in the dark recesses of your ass.

Letting out another string of curses, he gritted his teeth and let out a low growl, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you start to bounce up and down on him, his gaze drawn to where your tight hole was stretched so much to accommodate his thick girth. He knew that if you kept bouncing like that he’d cum in seconds, and it was too good to let his body deceive him. Wrapping his arms around your torso he pulled you back;

“Shhhh… slow down Princess…”

You whimpered as he laid you against his chest, his dick slipping out of your ass a little before he bucked his hips and pushed slowly back into you. With one arm wrapped around your torso he trailed the other down your stomach before he sought out your sensitive pearl, rubbing at your clit;

“August…” you whined, feeling the intense pleasure shoot through your body; “I’m gonna cum”

“Don’t… not yet…” he gasped out; “Please… wait…”

“I can’t…”

Your back arched and you felt your mind leave your body for a split second, vaguely aware of the rumble in Mr Walkers chest as your orgasm set off his own, filling your ass with thick ropes of his seed as you lay prone on his chest.

Finally through bliss hazed eyes you turned to look at him, surprised when his lips met yours for a soft kiss. His lips were delicate and you could taste a hint of bourbon lingering on his tongue that the champagne couldn’t mask, the moment only broken by the feel of his softening shaft slipping from your body with a rather graphic squelch.

Now that your bodies were no longer connected he shifted you into his arms as he cradled you in his lap, one strong arm holding you as the other traced patterns over your skin with sensitive fingertips. You watched as he seemingly memorised the plains and curves of your body by feel alone, before he finally spoke;

“Let me run you a bath”

August

He’d carried you to his bathroom, running a deep warm bath as he’d helped you undress, rubbing the balls of your feet and you sighed as the pressure of the day seemed to slip from your mind. After helping you into the bath he’d massaged your shoulders as you’d soaked in the tub, before taking a soft natural sponge and gently washed you.

When the water had started to cool he’d helped you out and gazed as the water droplets had run down your skin, reminding him of a maiden emerging from the sea on a sun kissed island. Wrapping you in an oversized fluffy robe he smiled;

“I’ve set some clothing out for you on my bed, i’ll be right out once i’ve showered”

You nodded and quietly thanked him, and he was finally alone with his thoughts as he quickly stripped and stepped into the large shower enclosure. The water was cold as it shot out of the jets, too impatient to let it warm up as he quickly rinsed the residue of his efforts from his body, his mind pensive as he wondered how he would broach the proposal he had for you. Quickly finishing up he stepped out and roughly dried himself, wrapping a towel around his waist before venturing into his bedroom, smiling to himself as he saw you preening in the mirror;

“Looks good on you”

You turned and smiled at his words and he could have sworn he felt his heart swell just a little more at the look on your face, watching as you bounced across the room and planted a kiss to his lips;

“Thank you…”

He watched as you smoothed a hand over your breasts and down your hips, the expensive loungewear far overpriced but the quality shone through as it clung to your curves. Knowing you were naked beneath it had arousal swelling his length again, but he gritted his teeth to will it away, at least for a while;

“Looks beautiful on you Princess”

Searching through the coffee station in August’s kitchen you found a box of mixed herbals teas, and once you’d figured out his over engineered kettle it was soon warming up to get to a steady boil. Looking around the kitchen you spied the half drunk bottle on the counter, surprised when it stated it was zero alcohol when you felt a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist and a mustachioed mouth trace kissed up your neck;

“There’s still champagne…”

His deep voice resonated through your spine, and you slowly spun in his arms before you wrapped yours around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips;

“I need something to soothe my throat after all the screaming you made me do”

“Fair enough” he said with a smile, giving your ass a squeeze; “Go take a seat, i’ll bring it over to you”

A few minutes later he set a steaming mug down in front of you, sitting beside you as he cleared his throat;

“I have a proposition for you…”

Blowing on the hot tea you raised an eyebrow as he continued;

“I’d like to keep you”

“Keep me?”

He shifted on his seat;

“I mean… come to an arrangement… an exclusive arrangement”

“So, like a sugar Daddy thing?” you asked

“Yes, as in a kept-woman”

You paused for a moment, considering what he was telling you before gently setting down your tea;

“I like the sound of this, but i want you to be specific with what you mean, what will be provided, and what any repercussions are”

Over the next fifteen minutes he calmly explained that you could give up your other maid jobs, he would pay your rent and expenses, and if you desired so could follow your passion for the arts. He would not expect you to be a live in whore-come-maid, but made it clear he would like a sexual relationship, but only on your terms and with your full consent at every instance.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked as he finally finished detailing what seemed like the dream arrangement.

You smiled at him as you shifted on the seat, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders;

“I think i feel pretty good about it”

Your lips met and the kiss was deep and passionate, bodies entwined and arousal growing when suddenly a loud ringing came from the table, August’s phone furiously vibrating against the glass.

“Fuck… Sorry, i need to get that”

August quickly lifted and set you down on the couch as he stood and answered the phone, listening intently before ending the call with a curt confirmation. Crossing the room he knelt at the side of the couch;

“I’m so sorry, i’ve got to go… my work…”

“I get it” you interrupted; “I know your line of work means sudden assignments”

“I’ve got to be at the pentagon in an hour, but your place is on the way so i can drop you home, this isn’t how i wanted today to end, but its the job…”

“I understand”

Twenty minutes later you were standing on the sidewalk outside your building, watching as August’s plain black Audi disappeared into traffic, wanting to wave but he’d said not to. Your phone chimed and your eyes went wide when you saw the ‘tip’ he’d given you, more than three months rent and a promise to call when he was off mission. You had never imagined you’d be in this situation, but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity.

What you didn’t see was the person watching you from the shadows, already knowing you were their target, the perfect leverage.

#august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker smut #henry cavill #august walker

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okay-klepto · 4 years

Text

Daddy’s Girl

August Walker x Female Reader

Explicit

4600 words

Details: sexual content, m/f penetrative sex, oral sex - f receiving, creampies, fingering, Daddy kink, spanking, bratty reader, praise kink, teasing, Soft Dom August, cuddling

You say you just want to spend a little time with your daddy; August knows you have other motives. Breaking his rules means you get punished, but the spanking isn’t what makes you cry. August knows exactly how being too sweet can be more of a punishment for his baby than any means of force.

Did I proofread the whole thing? No! If you find a mistake, no you didn’t.

Enjoy.

Despite the darkness that filled the hallway, you crept across the hardwood floors towards a faint light at the end of the hall. You fuzzy socks allowed you to glide over the floors without a sound and move faster than just tiptoeing. You eventually reached the closed door with light peeking out from the opening at the bottom. The solid, wooden door seemed even bigger and more menacing than you remember it being, especially now in the black of night. The only sound you could hear was the grandfather ticking from the other room. You pressed your ear against the door in hopes of hearing any voices coming from inside. You thought you heard someone speaking, but that could very well be your hopes fabricating his voice for you. With one final breath of courage, you started to turn the handle as slowly as you could muster. The bolts unlatched and you eased the door open just a few inches. Light touched your face, and you dared to peer into the room.

And there he was, sitting studiously at his solid walnut desk. His phone was pressed to his ear and a pen was jotting notes as he nodded.

“Yes, I was told…” His deep voice rumbled as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together a little when you heard him speak. He tapped his pen against his lips and nodded again. You carefully spied on him through the crack in the door, your eyes focusing on the way his lips pursed as he listened, beard and mustache moving as he did.

When he leaned back in his chair, you closed the door an inch to hide yourself. Your heart thumped hard in your chest as he pivoted slightly in his large chair, propping his feet up on his desk. A wonderfully warm smile graced his face and deep wrinkles creased his forehead as he chuckled into the phone. You watched him in a trance, mouth watering and eyes going glassy. Just as your mind began to wander, his icy eyes met yours through the opening in the door. You gasped and closed the door as quietly as you could. Heart racing, you started sneaking back down the dark hallway, though you moved faster than when you first arrived. You had just barely started up the stairs when you heard the wooden door open and saw light fill the hallway. You froze and looked at him standing in the light. Your mouth went dry.

“(Y/n).” His voice was firm. He raised his hand, pointed one finger out and curled it, commanding you to approach.

You only hesitated a moment before descending the few steps. You drug your feet, but you did as he had ordered. When you got close, he stepped aside and gestured for you to enter the study. You did, fiddling with the fuzzy hem of your pink, babydoll nightgown. You waited in the center of the study as he came in behind you. You didn’t look at him as he walked around you and sat down at his desk. He pushed his chair out and got comfy, giving you one good look over, focusing on your little nightgown that was barely long enough to cover you.

“Well, come here.” He patted his thigh. “Sit.”

You went over to him and found your place on his lap, draping your legs across his. You put your hands over his shoulders and rested your head on his chest. He put one hand on your waist and let the other creep up your thigh. His fingers walked up to your hip, and he slipped them under the strap on your thong.

“Tell August why you’re still awake,” he murmured. “Tell Daddy.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you confessed in a whisper.

“Hmm…” He nodded, hand rubbing your side. “Why was that?”

“I missed you…”

“You know I would have been up eventually. Sometimes I need to work late at night.”

You chewed on your lip and nestled into August’s chest. “I know. It’s hard to sleep without you there, though.”

“I know, baby. I know.” August put a kiss on the top of your head. “However,” he continued, “you know what my rules are.”

You fidgeted in his lap before reluctantly answering August. “No going in Daddy’s study when the door is closed.”

“Correct. And why is that?”

“Because Daddy’s work is private, and he needs to focus on it alone.”

August nodded. “And you broke my rule, so now what?”

You bit your lip and tried to act ashamed, but the thought of your punishment did excite you just a touch. “A spanking.”

“A spanking…” August let the strap on your underwear snap back against your skin. “Now head upstairs and wait for me. I need to finish up a few things.”

“But Daddy,” you whined, shifting to look August in the eyes, “you’ve been down here for so long! What else is there left to do?”

“I just need to wrap a few things up. I won’t be down here more than fifteen minutes. I promise.” August put his thumb on your chin to kiss you. His mustache tickled your face, and you let yourself melt into his lips, your hand squeezing his shoulder. When he broke your kiss, you let your eyes flutter open and stare into his dreamy, blue ones. “Off you go, baby girl.”

You stood and got one last peck on the lips before prancing across August’s office and slipping out the door. August watched you go, mainly keeping his eyes on the hem of your nightgown as it swished with each of your bouncing steps, your bare bottom getting exposed as the thin fabric danced. August shook his head and chuckled to himself before opening his laptop.

Your fuzzy socks were tossed aside as you made your way to your vanity. Another spritz of perfume was added to your hair, and you checked to make sure your bit of glittery lipgloss was still perfect on your lips. You loosened the bows that made the straps of your nightgown and stood to admire in the mirror how clearly you could see your nipples through the material of your nightgown. Just to be safe, you slipped your panties off to make sure no hairs had been missed from your waxing appointment. Your cheeks got warm at the thought of August walking in on you doing your examination. Like he would care what position you were in when you had your panties off. You slipped them back on and headed over to the bed once you decided everything was to Daddy’s liking. The dozens of pillows on the bed made a wonderful place to lay as you waited. Should you lay on your back and hike your nightgown up just a little, or should you be on your stomach with your bottom ready and waiting? Maybe Daddy would like a few little tears to know you really were sorry. No, that didn’t work last time anyway. Oh, wouldn’t he like it if you were already naked? And playing with yourself? Why not just cut right to the chase? You were still thinking about it when August entered the bedroom.

“Daddy!” You sat up on your knees when you saw him.

August began to unbutton his dress shirt. “I wouldn’t think you sound so excited for a punishment, baby girl?” August teased.

“It’s just- I- I’m not!” you huffed. “I’m not excited!”

August chuckled as he tossed his shirt into the hamper and pulled the paddle from off the wall where it hung. He walked over and sat down on the bed. Still on the mattress, you walked over to him on your knees and hugged August from behind.

“Can’t we just cuddle? You know I’m very sorry.” You tried to do your most sorrowful baby girl voice. You nuzzled into August's neck. “I couldn’t help it, Daddy… I just missed you so much!”

“I know, baby, I know.” August reached up and rubbed the back of your head. “But a rule is a rule.”

“But Daddy!” You shimmied around to kneel over August’s lap. “I really am sorry! I wasn’t listening to your conversation or anything!” You played with August’s hair at the back of his head as you gave him your best puppy eyes. “I won’t ever do it again, I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time.” To be completely honest, you hearing a minute of one side of his conversation wasn’t his biggest concern. You weren’t that sneaky anyway. Yes, he didn’t want you in there when the doors were closed and he was having secret meetings, but he could just lock the door if need be. He knew the only reason you did sneak down was to get spanked, and August was more than happy to play along.

“Now lie down, baby girl,” August said. You pouted but did as you were told. You laid across August’s lap so your bottom was over August’s thick thigh. He pulled your nightgown up to expose your rear.

“I really am sorry, Daddy,” you said in an effort to let August just bed you right away. Instead, you got a firm spank. You yelped.

“How many did I give you last time?” August asked as he rubbed your behind.

“Oh, only one or two,” you lied.

“Really?” Another spank and another yelp. “I think it was at least three.”

August came down with the paddle again, and you squeaked. He rubbed your behind again, feeling the skin getting warm. A smile spread across August’s face as he watched you fidget.

“Well, there’s three!” you announced, beginning to make a move to get up. However, August came down with the paddle once again. “Hey!”

“You’re a repeat offender, darling.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught August smirking. “That calls for a harsher punishment.”

August spanked you one more time. That got you upset.

“No! No! No!” You scrambled off of August and stood in front of him. “You can’t do it more than 3 times!”

“Sweetheart…” August set the paddle down on the bed. “I thought that was what you wanted? We agreed to spanking.”

“Yeah, but you only did three before!” You crossed your arms and pouted. “I don’t know where you got this ‘repeat offender’ thing from! You’re supposed to do three and then we have sex!”

August had to hold in a laugh. “But, in the past, I’ve spanked you a dozen or more times?”

“Well, that was when I was very bad, and I was not very bad today!”

“Okay, okay…” That little pout of yours made August go soft. “Come here, baby.”

You went over to August and sat down in his lap, your legs straddling his hips and your arms going over his shoulders. However, you refused to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry I spanked you too many times.” August ran his hands up your nightgown and over your sides. “Next time I will specify how many spanks you’ll get.”

“Fine,” you replied, your nose still turned away from August.

“But sweetheart- look at me.” August’s voice went tender but serious, and you looked at him with soft eyes. “You really can’t be going in my study when the door’s shut. That is a rule.”

You diverted your gaze and slouched towards August.

“I do important and sometimes classified work that you can’t be a part of. You especially can’t be in there when people are over.”

“I know…” You wrapped your arms around August and leaned into his chest. “I just wanted you up here with me.”

“Yes, and you were in the mood to be naughty,” August added. You were about to protest when you felt August push two of his fingers into your wet little pussy.

“Daddy…” you moaned as August curled his fingers inside of you.

“You wouldn’t be this wet if you had come down just to see me.”

You whimpered into August’s shoulder as he thrusted his fingers in and out, giving you kisses on the side of your head. Your hands clutched his skin, and he massaged your insides with more force, making his fingers dig in deeper. Just as you started to tremble, August slid his fingers out.

“Daddy!” you fussed, but August hushed you.

“If you want me to fuck you properly, you need to go lay down on the bed and get comfy.”

You smiled, crawled across the bed, and laid down on all your pillows. August stood to take his pants and socks off.

“C’mon now! Panties off, young lady!” Your panties were off and forgotten in a second. August smiled as he watched you spread your legs wide. “That’s what I like to see, baby girl.”

August’s hardening cock hung low as he crawled on top of you. He dropped to his elbows and captured you in a long kiss. Your hands went over his shoulders, and he slid his tongue in your mouth. Your tongue met his, and you moaned when August turned his head to kiss you deeper. After a moment, August pulled his lips away and kissed down your jaw and latched on hard to your neck.

“Oh, Daddy~” you sighed as August’s whiskers tickled your neck. He stayed latched to the same spot, obviously working hard to leave a nice, dark spot. One of his hands went to your breast and massaged your nipple through the thin fabric of your nightgown. August’s lips continued to travel across your skin, leaving more red marks in their wake. You whimpered as August rolled your nipple between his fingers. You loved when he left marks on your neck and played with your nipples, but your pussy was crying to be stuffed full of cock.

“Daddy…” you whined. August released his lips from your skin and looked into your watery eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” August tucked a lock of hair out of your face.

“You said you were gonna fuck me properly, and you’ve done nothing even close to that.”

“Have you forgotten that I like to tease, baby?” August flicked one of your nipples with his short fingernail. “I don’t think that spanking was punishment enough.”

“Yes it was!” you whined.

“Then why are you still being fussy?”

The shaft of August’s cock slid between your folds with just enough pressure to make you whine again.

“Come on!” You tried to shimmy down to get more friction on August’s cock, but he stopped you with one of his big, strong hands. “I’m behaving!”

“No, you are not, missy.” August sat upright on his knees, and you whined again. “I knew five spanks wouldn’t be enough.”

August stood up, cock sticking out at attention most deliciously, and walked across the bedroom. You sat up and kicked your legs against the bed.

“We agreed! You spanked me and now you fuck me!” You let out the most pained groan you could muster. “This isn’t fair! You’re not being fair!”

August twirled the pink, leather handcuffs around in his hand. “Only good girls get Daddy’s cock, and you know that.”

“I am good!”

“Right now you’re not.” August got back onto the bed. “Now lay down.”

You did as you were told, and August grabbed both of your wrists with one of his hands. You watched as he put the chain between the cuffs through a post in the bed frame. One cuff was wrapped around your wrist.

“No! No!” you cried. “I’ll be good, Daddy! I promise!”

“Too late, baby.” Each cuff was secured around your wrists tight enough that you couldn’t slip out, but lose enough it didn’t hurt you. You whined and squirmed as August sat back up his knees. Upon seeing you in such a fussy state, August leaned down to be nose to nose with you.

“No more whining,” he ordered. You got your chance to play with me, coming down in your nightie just to be naughty. Now is my chance to play with you.”

That got you to purse your lips shut. That demanding voice August used on rare occasions always did the trick, though it also got you wetter than ever. Regardless, it put you in the mood to behave.

As August started to kiss your neck again, you pulled on the cuffs. So badly you wanted August to cut the fluff and get right to fucking your pussy. But if you protested further, August would probably shove a vibrator inside and you and go take a shower. That had happened more than once before…

“You are beautiful, baby,” August murmured as he left tickly kisses down your skin. He didn’t leave the big, red marks like he had on your neck, but he did meticulously cover all the skin he could with kisses. He traveled from your neck, down your collarbone, and to your chest. August pulled your nightgown down so your chest was fully exposed. He latched his lips onto one nipple and massaged the other with his hand. You did your best not to whimper and whine, but even all your strength could keep all sounds inside. A gush of pleasure made your pussy dampen even more when August used his canines to give your nipple a good pinch.

“I love you, baby girl,” August whispered. He kissed the fullest part of your breast, letting his lips linger for just a moment. He kissed again and trailed his kisses down your torso, pushing the fabric of your nightgown out of the way. He lingered on your hips, his kisses wet and hot.

“Oh, Daddy~” you moaned as August slipped two of his fingers inside of you.

“Be good for me, sweetheart.” August kept kissing your skin and slowly working his fingers in and out. You wanted to moan. You wanted to cry. You wanted to force your hips down and come all over those thick fingers, but you were too stretched out to move. August’s loving attention went now to your thigh, specifically that fullest and softest part. One hand worked your pussy and the other ran over your leg so sweetly. August left kisses and mark on your stretch mark covered skin, breathing heavily and groaning against your flesh. Despite your squirming, he kept a slow and steady rhythm. You decided your best bet would be to just put your head back and let the pleasure take you. Tears filled your eyes as you choked out a few whimpers. The hard fucking your body was prepared for was nowhere in sight, and this slow, loving fingering was too much to handle.

“No! Daddy! I can’t…” you sobbed when August’s mouth latched onto your clit, sending waves of heat throughout your body. His beard tickling and scratching all of your sensitive skin didn’t help much either. “I won’t last…”

August looked up at you, his eyes soft but lust-filled. “You can come on my fingers when you need to, baby girl,” August comforted. “You don’t need to wait for my permission.”

You put your head back again, and August went right back to doing what he did best. His fingers curled and rubbed your insides. His tongue licked up as much of your juices as it could while massaging your clit, his lips staying locked on all the while. Your legs started to tremble. August said you could come whenever you wanted, but you still left like you needed his permission. You needed that soft voice he uses to push you over the edge.

“Oh! Oh, Daddy!” Your thighs squeezed together as August sucked hard on your clit and forced a third finger inside. His free hand dug into your thigh to prevent you from closing your legs together. You sobbed at the sensation of fingers gripping your skin and beard tickling your skin. At the sound of your distress, August released his lips and looked to you.

“Baby girl…” August’s voice was so gentle and smooth. “It’s alright. You’re doing amazing.”

You tried to look at August, but your head wouldn’t rise that high. All you could do was sniffle away some tears.

“Baby?” August’s voice went deeper and softer. “Come for me, Princess. Come for Daddy.”

August gave you one thrust with his fingers, and you spilled warm liquid onto his fingers. August watched his fingers get wetter and liquid drip as he slowly out of you as he massaged you through your orgasm. Tears trickled down your cheeks. Why did this get you so worked up?

August licked his fingers off and crawled back on top of you. His eyes traveled over the wonderful curves of your body before reaching your sweet, little face. He unlatched the cuffs from the bedframe, and your arms fell slack against the pillows. You felt a finger wipe away a tear from the apple of your cheek.

“Don’t cry, sweet thing,” August murmured. “You are so perfect and wonderful and beautiful and amazing and soft and sweet.”

You managed to put your arms around August as he gently pressed himself against you. “Daddy…”

“You are such a good girl.” A bearded kiss was planted on your jaw. “You are always so good for me. What a good girl you are. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else.”

Finally, August’s lips met yours for a warm kiss. It was such a relief to finally have him back in your arms. August’s tongue slowly slid inside your mouth, and you welcomed it. His hands held your sides tightly and you kissed.

“Do you still want me to fuck you properly, sweetie?” August asked as he broke your kiss.

You nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

August gave himself a few strokes before pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. He paused for a moment to play with how wet you were before slowly pushing his cock inside. You moaned as he went in inch after inch, deeper and deeper. August groaned when he finally bottomed out. It always impressed him that your little pussy could manage to fit the entirety of his cock.

“That’s good, baby girl. You’re doing so well.”

August started out with almost painfully slow thrusts that made you want to cry again. He’d grunt every time he pressed into you again and again. Your hands gripped his back so he never had the chance to get too far away.

“You feel amazing, baby. You’re so nice and wet.”

You pulled August in closer and buried your face into his shoulder to whimper. The little stretch his cock gave you pussy right as he went in the whole way made you melt inside. Your head was clouded with thoughts of that cock filling you up with cum just to fuck more and more into you.

When August gave a harder push, you yelped and squeezed around him.

“Let me hear you. I love it when you moan for me.”

August shifted so he could keep giving you kisses on your neck. His thrusts stayed firm but slow, so all you did was hold onto August and moan. His pelvis rubbed against your clit, and each one of his grunts made you wetter and wetter. Finally, his rhythm faltered and muscles tense.

“Fuck,” he groaned, going right back into his rhythm.

“Daddy…” you whined, knowing August was close to finishing.

“I’m going to fill you with cum, baby girl,” August breathed as he rested up on his elbows to look at you. “I’m gonna pump you full of cum and watch it drip out of your pussy.”

August thrusted into your again and you yelped. The hand that was holding your hip gripped it tighter, and Augusted pushed into you over and over. Your whole body was shoved into the pillows with every thrust August gave you. It wasn’t long before August decided to reach down and rub your clit in rough circles. The shock of pleasure made you choke on your moans.

“You are stunning, baby girl,” August breathed. “You take my cock so well. You feel so amazing when I fuck you.”

You dug your fingers into August’s muscle as he picked up this thrusting pace. Each one forced a whimper from your throat and August to grunt.

“That’s right, sweetie, take it all - take all of me.”

“Daddy! Fill me up!”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

August captured your lips in a rough kiss as he slammed into you. He pushed you clit harder and harder, and you wanted to cry louder than ever. August let out a deep and rumbling groan before pushing fully in one last time and coming deep inside your pussy. You squeezed around him to feel his cock throb with each rope of cum that was being forced inside. August kept his attention on your clit as well, and after another moment your legs were shaking as another orgasm washed over your body. August let himself go limp on top of you, his massive form acting as a lovely blanket. His cock stayed inside of you, though, preventing much of the cum from leaking out. After a moment, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked into your eyes.

“You are such a good girl,” August breathed, putting a quick kiss on your lips. “You always behave so well when I fuck you like that. You did such a good job.”

You ran your hands through August’s hair before resting them on either side of his face so you could look into his dreamy blue eyes. Your orgasms still fogged your mind as you stared at August’s face, his slips stretching into a soft smile. He thought you were the cutest when your face was sweaty and your hair was a mess and your eyes were glassy from being fucked good and hard.

“Thank you, Daddy…” you breathed.

“Oh course, sweetheart.” August pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Good girls get whatever they want, and you are the goodest of them all.”

August gave you another kiss before carefully sliding his cock out of you. You gasped when he finally left you fully empty, a glob of cum starting to ooze out.

“I’ll be back with a towel, baby. Just hang tight.”

August rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. You watched him the whole way. His broad shoulders and long legs and meaty ass made you want to climb right on top of him for more, but you were far too tired for that. After a moment, August returned with a towel in hand. He crawled back into bed with you and ran a hand between your legs.

“Let me clean you up, baby girl.”

You silently spread your legs so August could clean up the cum that was leaking out of you. When the towel touched your throbbing pussy, you drew in a sharp breath. When more cum leaked out, August gently wiped it away.

“I really filled you up, didn’t I, darling?” August had a light chuckle in his voice,

You nodded. “You always do, Daddy.”

August smiled and set the towel aside so he could give you a proper kiss. “Why don’t we get your nightie off so we can sleep.”

You lazily sat up and lifted your arms over your head. August carefully worked the garment off of you so you were completely naked.

“No bath?” you asked, watching August loosely fold your babydoll and set it aside with the towel.

“It’s a bit too late at night for that, but we can have a nice long one tomorrow.”

You were satisfied with that answer. August pulled back the covers, and you climbed under. August followed and curled up right next to you. You found a cozy spot on August’s chest, and you were asleep even before August could give you a kiss good night.

Tag list:

@agniavateira @iloveyouyen

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #fanfic #smut #daddy august walker #soft dom august #baby girl #klepto can write

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pleasantwizardphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Just you and me

So, I finally gathered the courage to write something and went for a SuperCorp fanfic, because clearly I am supercorp trash. I haven’t decided whether to post it in AO3 or not but if I do I’ll let you know. English is not my first language so if you get any mistakes or some parts lack cohesion please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. This fic goes by the idea that Kara is a very good scientist, she deserves that much, Lena’s background is canon-like. There are no dialogs, only feelings and senses, hope you like it.

*********

Finding yourself stuck in time is hard, at least that’s what most people would feel like under such circumstances, but not for Lena, not right now, where every single piece of “normalcy” her life had is just beginning to crumble, like a piece of sun-dried bread, or the way eggshells crack after someone steps on them, painfully, noisily, in a million pieces, most of all and beyond everything, they shatter unrecognizably and irreparably. Maybe the cold that such pain leaves behind is what led her to run, maybe it was the sudden fear and tiredness that was left in her, like cold steel in her bones, maybe it was the emptiness that started consuming every truth she thought she knew. It did not matter, she fled, running as fast as she could in those 7-inch Louboutins. She never looked back, not even after her flight landed in National City, not even after setting foot for the first time in her new penthouse in the middle of the city. She never regretted it, at first it was rough, sure, like every bumpy road is, yet, after the first glance she ever took at that blonde hair that day in the park, all doubts were erased off her mind.

*********

It was the end of August, the chilly air that announced a cold winter ahead blew her hair, ruffling it in her face; filling the streets, waking scattered orange and brown-ish leaves that had fallen from nearby trees, whistling on its way through the now almost-bare branches. The wind left behind the soft aroma of wet dirt, freshly baked bread and upcoming rain, heartwarmingly, filling her lungs easily with every breath, puffing visible clouds when exhaling. It was certainly nostalgic, the kind that makes you feel warm and cozy and at the same time makes your eyes prickle with unshed tears. Kara felt that pull, as usual, for everything good her life has had, and everything it had taken from her. She stood on the sidewalk, towards National’s City Central Park, glancing around her, taking in her surroundings when her gaze landed on a particular someone, dragged to her as if her eyes were mere pieces of steel and that woman were a huge neodymium magnet; She found herself staring at a sight she’ll always remember, because at that moment, when she first saw her, she felt a different kind of pull at her heart, the kind that screamed “caution!”, but in the good way, hopefully.

Long before she knew her name, what made her laugh, what made fer fidget with her fingers nervously, but above all, long before she had met that woman with dark long silky hair, forest-green eyes and pearly skin. Long before that gorgeous human being, with such power emanating from her, yet such caring, hopeful eyes, crossed her path, long before she made her feel like flying without actually leaving the ground, mostly, who she would grow to love, maybe, maybe she was fantasizing too much, who could blame her, it surely was a sight to remember.

*********

When the double doors slide open, she’s expecting a no-nonsense, powerful, cold-blooded, cocky-demeanor CEO, what she’s definitely not expecting is for such CEO to be almost precisely all that shaped and carefully placed in a stunning, raven-haired woman, whose green eyes could pierce through your soul and would probably make you spill your darkest and deepest secrets, those that also hide so much fear, making her want to walk over there and pour all her support into a hug. Kara swallows. Nevertheless, there is also something else to this woman’s aura, her posture is perfect, clearly carved into her from a very young age, and her smile is polite but stiff, almost practiced, and still, Kara can feel kindness emanating from her, true deep kindness and care. Something brings her to the present again, her breath hitches, those beautiful eyes are staring intently into hers with curiosity and a hint of amusement. The woman in front of her has managed to steal her breath twice now, which is not something she, the founder and co-owner of a start-up company. Harvard graduate and Kryptonian, finds happening often, she has faced great threats, from grumpy bankers to out-of-space threats as Supergirl, yet, Lena Luthor has managed to make her heartbeat go erratic with a simple gaze.

The soft scent of an expensive perfume fills the office, something akin cinnamon, vanilla and a little scotch (?). It is dizzying and a little distracting. She somehow manages to go through her proposal for the CEO without stumbling too much and, fortunately, without rambling. Lena seems fascinated by the proposal and agrees to the terms without major modifications to the contract. After both signing, they shake hands, and maybe, just maybe, they linger a little more than needed, both enraptured by the softness of the other’s hand. Lena pulls away first, fingers tingling, feeling the tips of her fingers warm and a lingering scent of something floral, it is electrifying, like a low current cursing through her veins, making her get goosebumps all over her arms, but she doesn’t mind, as her attention is captured by those ocean blue eyes that seemingly hold the weight of the world. She certainly is nowhere close to getting tired of them.

*********

When they signed this partnership, they did not expect it to turn this way, at least Kara didn't, or so she muses while sitting on the ledge of her rooftop. She truly just meant to get funding and maybe get to work a little up-close with the brilliant, certified genius of a woman. Sure, she is gorgeous and incredibly sharp-minded, as proven by so many magazines’ articles having bothered to analyze both qualities deeply and thoroughly; but after that first sight of her, with such strength and determination to her pose, with each powerful step, with every sway of her hips, albeit hiding so much hurt, sadness, and a great burden, brought to her by her last name; a burden that Kara has somehow come know so well, such need to be understood, because, the truth was, that no one had ever lived through loss the way they did. One lost her world, her culture and way of life, but found love and compassion, whereas Lena was denied both from a very short age, living a life without love, compassion, and affection, in a household where the outside cold wouldn’t enter, as the inside was icier.

The cold nighty wind startles her, it brings to her mind memories of bight smiles, so hard that certain dimples showed, laughs so hard that some wine would be spat on a very white leader couch, sunny days filled with an assortment of foods and a wonderful voice, filling every corner of the room with its melody and a slight accent, becoming more evident when emotion takes a rightful place in her voice, one that comes from a very pale yet very compassionate woman. She has to tell her, it's been just over a year since they first met, but she knows it is time, with them growing closer, she has to tell her she is Supergirl. And yeah, she definitely did NOT expect things to turn this way. (Maybe she kinda did).

**********

When she asked Kara if she understood the quantum mechanics behind the surface plasmon resonance their platinum nanoparticles showed, she wanted to be shaken, mad even, because why wouldn't she, the to-be youngest member of the Science Guild on Krypton? Of course, they didn't have the same metals as they did on Earth, but they understood the physics behind the phenomena. Okay, Lena did do not know her identity, yet, hopefully, but she did have a Bachelor in Mechatronic Engineering and a Master Degree in Advanced Materials, she definitely may have crossed paths with the concept. But hell, how can she be mad when those bright, summer-trees green eyes look at her with such glint of excitement, with a twinkling sparkle or curiosity? Those eyes that were looking at her with a look you give someone you know gets you, beyond understanding your words, those who truly get a grasp of your language, of who you are, what makes you shake with the excitement of a new discovery, a greater challenge. It was then that Kara knew that she could read Lena the way no one had ever done for her, she could grasp what she needed in every moment, what she was thinking, but she also got her sciency stuff, the theoretical jargon, upcoming theories, the physics behind phenomena and she shared her love for technology that could make humans' lives better, longer, healthier. They shared, compassion, vision, passion and... Kara was now almost certain, love.

At least she thinks so, what else could those stolen glances be? She looks up, just to find those forest-green eyes glinting with determination and concentration while those agile slender fingers handle tools and twinkle their way around the solar panel’s circuitry. She is so enraptured by her skills that she mistakenly adds way too much platinum sulfide to the solution, turning it suddenly black and bringing her out of her stupor as the contents boil, violently spilling all over the place, filling the air with a slight scent of iron, evaporated water and burnt plastic. Green eyes break contact with the panel to look towards where strong hands work frantically to turn off the hot plate she was working on, dropping her tools she reaches a hand to help Kara, concerned green eyes looking for any kind of burn injury or spill that may need to be taken care of. After making sure everything is (mostly) okay and that it was just a failed reaction, Kara is suddenly aware of a soft hand pulling her away from the table, vanilla and cinnamon fill the air around her, like a soft embrace, that turns real when Lena pulls her into her arms, a soft bubble surrounding Kara, making her a little giddy and peaceful at the same time. Flowers, fresh-cut flowers is what Lena smells, while she hugs Kara tightly, it is normal to get worried for your best friend after a lab incident, no matter how small, she tells herself, and while it maybe is, it is definitely not normal the way her heart felt like stopping the moment she saw the hot contents of the Erlenmeyer flask spill all over the place, fearing for Kara, feeling it creep up her spine and settle like cold ice on her stomach and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

When strong arms surround her and pull her in tighter, she realizes she has started shaking and hyperventilating, embarrassed she hides her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, and everything fades outside this moment. It is just them, vanilla, and flowers, Kara murmuring sweet nothings into Lena’s ear, hearing her heartbeat even out, and her breathing become normal; and Lena trusting that this person, whose arms seem to be able to lift a bus, whose laugh makes her heart warm and fuzzy, whose smile lights her world and makes her feel safe, cared for and understood; will never let her fall. And perhaps she is right.

**********

Yup, it is definitely love. What else could it be? That snowy January, between hot cocoa and soft muffins, she knew. She is hovering outside her lab, on the outskirts of town, where it was less likely that someone caught her both personas; peeking through the windows, she sees her, Lena is coding the interface that would allow them to take the most efficiency and durability out of the technology they had designed, the mechanical and chemical part was almost done already. She is typing, eyes narrowed in concentration behind thick rimmed glasses, the tip of her tongue poking from a corner of her mouth. And Kara knows, she wants to caress those hands when they were trembling from the winter cold, but also kiss them after a long day working with her computer, she wants to rub her feet after a day filled with meetings and kiss her every time her brilliant mind comes up with a solution for an impossible problem. But above all that, she wants to hold her and whisper into her ear comforting and loving words when she has a nightmare regarding Lex, she knows it’s a common occurrence. She wants to see her crumble knowing that Kara would always hold her and support her, kissing her lovingly every time her insecurities get the best of her. She wants her to feel safe, protected and loved in a way she always deserved but never got.

She sighs, this is it and she knows it, there is not moving forward without coming clean about Supergirl, because, staring at Lena, she knows there is no going back either, looking the way her agile fingers dance around the keyboard as if she were writing a letter to a friend instead of a state-of-the-art software to power and control their recently developed solar panels. She thinks of how beautiful of a soul Lena is, she has such a big heart, she has a huge weight on her shoulders for being a Luthor, a burden which Kara would love to lift from her since it is not hers to carry, it shouldn’t be. Furthermore, she cares so much for the world and the people in it, even for the ones that are not human, unlike her family she is truly kind and compassionate.

Here goes nothing. Kara flies through the lab floor-to-ceiling windows towards the desk where Lena is working, placing beside her the paper bag containing hot cocoa and muffins for her. Due to the cold, the soft warm homey smell soon starts filling the room. Lena looks up smiling, expecting to find Kara behind the treats, but instead, bright green eyes lock with glassy baby blue eyes, trembling lips and fingers fidgeting. Lena stands. She is instantly shaking, whatever it is that could possibly turn the unyielding hero into a crying mess must be of great concern. She steadies herself by grabbing the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling, knuckles turn white. Green never leaves blue. And just when she is about to ask the hero what brings her here, a strong hand comes to the small of her back to steady her and keep her upright. She has never been this close to Supergirl and at that moment when every sound seems to shut and the air stills, she knows.

She knows why those sky-blue eyes always inspired her such calm and confidence, why she always felt safe in those arms that could bend steel as butter. Because in that moment, when the warmth emanating from that hand starts filtering through her clothes, warming her, her senses are also filled with a smell of flowers, mixed with chocolate and bread, and a hint of mint; when a single tear escapes those ocean blue eyes, she crumbles. She crumbles under that gaze filled with pain and sorrow, filled with such regret that she could feel it creeping through herself, nestling in every corner of her body, making her feel slump and heavy. She also sees intelligence, compassion and strength, qualities she has come to be very familiar with under a blue setting. And so, she grabs the hero’s suit in her fist and buries her face in her chest, a single heart-wreaking cry filling the air. Kara shatters then, knowing how much pain this is causing to a soul that has been betrayed over and over again, who has been abused and pushed to her limits. She knows she is picking an open wound with a stick, and she hates herself for it, for using the same trust Lena gave her against her. They slide to the floor, never letting go of each other, tears falling freely through both their cheeks. Lena breaks into heartbreaking sobs and Kara holds her tighter, as if trying to keep her from falling into pieces, from breaking apart, rocking them both back and forth softly. Lena just cries, screaming from time to time, gripping the fabric so tightly that if it were regular fabric, it would be tearing down by now, but it isn’t, just as the woman holding her, the woman she most certainly is NOT in love with, is not a regular human. They stay there, holding onto each other, never breaking eye contact, the hot cocoa and muffins long forgotten.

**********

She really isn’t mad. She isn’t. So maybe she has been slightly avoiding Kara, but she isn’t mad. Despite her first-instance outburst of emotions, she realized she really isn’t angry at Kara from keeping the Supergirl thing a secret from her, yes, she was deeply hurt and upset but she understands the reasoning behind it, albeit she wishes Kara had told her earlier in their relationship it also makes perfect sense for her to hide it until making sure their relationship was well-founded and strong.

She is quite lost though, there is a small hint of emptiness inside her chest from that day which smelled like chocolate and bread, at first Lena thought she might actually and finally be broken, her heart having taken so many hits already. But the pain eventually faded, and that emptiness never left, on the contrary, it became more present, so much that she was now almost used to it. Like a lingering rock in the bottom of her stomach, or a ball of cotton in her throat, constant, bearable but persistent. And now, as the snow starts melting outside her office she wonders why. She knows why though; she just likes to pretend like she can fool herself.

The morning sun is hitting her office’s windows, warmer than it has been for the past few months and as the first drops of melted snow start to fall from the rooftop to her balcony, the pretense falls to pieces, and she falls along with it. She fumbles with her balcony door and stumbles outside, not even bothering to grab her coat, as soon as she steps outside, she is hit with cold, humid air and slippery floors. Taking huge gasps of cold air to fill lungs that seemingly do not want to be filled.

Maybe this is all she needed, standing on her balcony and glancing at the city, the morning sun casting a bright yellow light over her face, warming her skin softly, while her side in the shadows gets colder every passing second. It is enough, hot and cold, day and night, light and darkness, she always wondered to which side of the scale she tipped the most, she used to believe she was all shadows, a Luthor, and Kara was light, all goodness, she smiles at the irony, a Super. However, while she is taking in the city, calm and almost quiet since it is so early, bright light hitting the buildings and cold, contrasting shadows hiding smaller streets, cars, and people, she gets it. Kara was never all light, and will never be, she has on her shoulders an unbearable pain that will never go away and with her powers come hard choices that no one should ever have to make. And she, she is not darkness, she is both, and she can choose which side to feed, and she wants to choose light, just not any light, one that is personified by blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes that she could, and does, get lost into. Maybe, she can bring a certain light to Kara as well, maybe they both deserve it, they deserve each other. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she turned on her heels towards her office and out of it, directly to a certain warehouse on the outskirts of town. The balcony door left open, melted snow glowing gold from the morning sun, dripping into Lena’s office.

**********

Disappointment is that what she feels, no, sadness, for sure, she knew things could go sideways with the whole reveal show and yet, the clench in her heart won’t go away easily, and she knows she absolutely has no right to feel that way, she made that choice, just as she has made every other choice before it. She is tempering with her suit, waiting for her cell culture to finish growing so she can properly test their absorption properties. Soft pop music plays in the background, filling the warehouse with soft notes with a cheesy vibe, the mid-morning sun streams from the windows, lighting the space with an orange-ish golden glow. She finishes her upgrades with a tired huff, never one to hate working on something she surprises herself with such reaction. Groaning with frustration that has nothing to do with her projects and a lot to do with a certain pale powerful, wonderful, CEO.

She walks towards the windows, letting herself bask in the mid-morning light, feeling her powers recharge and her body start buzzing with energy. She clenches her fists, as the warmth caress of the sun on her skin makes her heart ache, missing another entirely different kind of warmth. She leans against a wall and lets her body slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feeling of the sun kissing her skin, softly, almost hesitantly, she can almost picture a certain brunette, softly stroking her cheek, a sweet lovingly caress. A single tear rolls down her cheek from her closed eyes, knowing that such caresses may never be from her, a faith written by her own hand, resulting from her choices, as hard as it is. Letting her straining superhearing and expanding its reach she hears the hustle and bustle from downtown a few kilometers away, she hears the honks of the cars and the heavy panting from people running late for their work, such mundane thing that she may never truly get to live and experience. As her hearing expands, she finds herself focusing in a very well-known heartbeat, one she can distinguish above the sea of heartbeats that flood the city; it is beating absurdly fast, and her first reaction is to focus on her surroundings to find out whether she is in danger or not.

She hears heavy puffs of air, heels clicking steadily and determinately on the pavement, closer with every step, and is she running? Her breath hitches when realization dawns on her, she IS running, towards her. While her mind screams for her to move, to do something, her body is frozen, unresponsive, breath caught in her throat, she absolutely does not understand what is happening and doesn’t know what to expect from the woman that is now reaching her. Before she can dwell on it further, a feminine soft hand with slender cold fingers is touching her knee softly. She is panting from the effort, her breath smells like back coffee and mint, hitting Kara’s face warmly, making her head spin; a slight scent of grounded coffee beams mixed with Lena’s favorite scotch emanates from her clothes, she smells strangely like home; her red lipstick matching her flushed cheeks from running, and Kara cannot help but let her jaw fall open in awe at the sight.

She grabs Lena’s wrists softly and stands up bringing her along. Kara finally gathers her courage and looks at her eyes. She feels like sinking under her gaze, not out of fear, it’s nothing but love and warmth what she sees in those jade-green eyes, feelings she doesn’t feel worthy of, specially not when coming from the Irish goddess. Just when she’s about to close her eyes again, uncapable of keeping her gaze, Lena hooks a finger under her chin and makes her raise her eyes up to hers again. Insecure, scared-like blue puppy eyes find soft-looking bright emerald eyes. It’s understanding what she sees now in those deep green eyes, the same ones that seem capable of reading her like an open book. She lets out a sob, and Lena lets go of her chin, going to grab her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm tenderly.

The breeze brings to Kara’s nose the scent of Lena’s shampoo, smells like rainy days and autumn leaves, and, as usual, no words are needed when Kara moves her hand from Lena’s lips to cup her cheeks, bringing her other hand up. And, what else can she do other than lean forward? So, she does, she leans forward and kisses her forehead, its soft, tender, like a butterflies’ kiss, just barely brushing her skin, trying to convey her love for her beautiful Genius™ mind, for her brilliance, stubbornness and compassionate selfless soul. She then brushes her lips softly on both her eyelids, trying to convey all the love and regret she feels regarding the way she did Supergirl secret-related things. She parts slowly and watches as Lena opens her eyes fluttering open slowly, bringing her hands up to grab the wrists of the Kara’s hands that are still cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking the inside of the kryptonian’s wrists, she lets out a shaky breath, blue eyes looking at her so lovingly tenderly, with such determination and strength, unyielding as sapphires, she feels no questioning in her heart, this is where she is meant to be, she turns into a mushy puddle and lets herself be drawn into the Girl of Steel.

Kara leans forward and kisses her nose, giggling quietly, Lena simply melts into it feeling a soft warm breath that smells like chocolate and honey, suddenly, the emptiness in her chest melts like ice cream on a hot summer day, leaving nothing but love and warmth, like the one from a fireplace on Christmas Eve. She lets out a shuddering breath, relieved. They lock eyes again, and finally all those unspoken questions find an answer. They lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting perfectly against each other. It is warm, tender, loving, and everything it should be, the way every cheesy romantic comedy says it’s like. They pour all their love into that moment, lips moving against each other, chocolate-honey and black coffee.

When they finally part, it’s like breathing for the first time, lungs grasping for oxygen, freshly cut grass, concrete and sun-provided warmth, and it is perfect. Like taking a breath after holding it underwater for a long time, except you never truly knew what breathing was like, until that life-altering breath. They breathe in sync, foreheads touching, Kara’s hands go down to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, Lena rests her head softly on Kara’s chest, nuzzling into her neck and closing her eyes, letting herself fall into that fierce love, like an all-consuming fire, she’s been too afraid to open herself to, to be vulnerable. They stay there, enjoying each other’s embrace, the hustle and bustle of the city blind to a beautifully blooming love.

**********

Kara is very clumsy, it does help her keep up her façade, albeit it is also a personal trait of hers. And right now, as she trips on nothing, while standing nonetheless, she makes it extremely evident. Forest green eyes look at her amused from the other side of the door. How does Lena expect Kara not to fall face first to the ground when she is dressed looking like THAT. Wearing a deep red drees that falls softly just below her knees, strapless, leaving her back and cleavage on display, her hair up in a neat bun and her signature 7-inch black heels, Kara definitely stopped breathing, not that she needs to anyway. She stands up awkwardly, taking the dust off her khaki pants and dark blue blazer. Lena cannot hide a smirk after pulling such reaction from no other than Supergirl.

The CEO pulls Kara into her apartment, it smells like vanilla and apples, probably resulting from the many scented candles that Lena likes to light around her apartment. The only light comes from said candles and several Christmas-like light strings that are hanging from the ceiling, giving the place a warm cozy glow. Kara smiles lazily as she leans down to kiss Lena, catching a glimpse of bright emerald eyes melting glimmery before falling shut. She smiles into the kiss. She pulls apart slightly and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, the raven-haired woman lets out a soft chuckle. Kara grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her to the door. Today it’s dinner date day, they are celebrating the successful launch of their joint solar panels project, the best performance ever achieved thanks to a certain Kryptonian’s platinum oxide nanoparticles; and 10 months of full-on dating. As Kara closes the door of Lena’s apartment behind them, the warm smell of the candles fills the hallway and follows them into the elevator, a fluffy plush blanket, a protective mantle surrounding them.

**********

drip…drip… the constant crash of raindrops against the windows surrounding them, rain pouring heavily around them, drowning the usually loud noises of the city’s rush hour, washing away the strong smell of smog. They are tucked under a bus station stop, at least Lena is, Kara is already dripping, since she stubbornly stood outside the small protection the roof offers so Lena and other humas could take cover, she doesn’t get sick anyway. Lena is shivering, although it has been a remarkably hot summer, today was quite a cloudy day and it rained for the most part, resulting in a temperature drop of several degrees. The brunette leans into Kara seeking for her abnormally high body temperature to warm herself up, but the Girl of Steel has other plans, since she cannot fly Lena to their apartment, she might as well take the best out of the situation.

Just as Lena is dropping her full body weight into her, she slides away, pulling Lena’s hand with her, directly into the downpour. Lena gasps when the first heavy drops of the cold water hit her, feeling her clothes get soaked almost instantly, she feels the raindrops roll down her skin and further dampening her clothes, the smell of the rain fully hits her now and when she lifts her eyes from where they were looking at the floor not to trip, she sees Kara smiling her signature megawatt smile at her, completely soaked and intertwining their fingers playfully, so Lena smiles, smiles so hard her dimples show. She lets herself be dragged by Kara, running under the rain, feeling the cold sweeping into her bones, and feeling more whole and filled with happiness than she has in a very long time, if ever.

Kara jumps over a puddle with all the grace of a gazelle, letting go of the CEO’s hand, such displays of her true nature still wonder Lena, just when she is about to make the jump herself, Kara stops and abruptly turns towards her. The world stops. Or maybe she is the one that freezes, the only thing she can hear is the rain pouring heavily around them, and her heart beating erratically in her chest, ringing in her ears, the smell of rain mixes with Kara’s floral perfume, she is getting closer now. The brunette starts shaking, and it has nothing to do with the cold water still running down her body. Kara stands in front of her, soaking wet, dirt all over her jeans from playing in the rain, her hair falls in wet dirty blonde strands around her face, her eyes as baby blue as always are dim because of the raindrops that coat her glasses, and in her soaking hands she’s holding an astonishingly made silver ring, two intertwined silver strings hold one small bright emerald in the middle, the inside of one of the string, in almost unreadably tiny letters reads “You are my hero”. The simplicity of the stone in contrast with the intricate design of the ring.

Lena forgets how to breathe, but Kara understands, so she just waits there, with the most loving smile ever seen stamped on her face. When Lena’s out of body experience ends, she simply nods enthusiastically. And so, the world starts spinning again, the honks of the cars return, engines roaring and muffled conversations, all muted by the rain, washing over them as reality sinks in, they are choosing each other, even when the world has tried to pull them apart repeatedly, furthermore, against each other, for them, none of it matters, just them, here and now, kissing for the first time in hopefully many years to come. Lena lets her hands drape loosely around Kara’s neck, feeling the grounding weight of the ring on her left ring finger, hot against her cold skin, the same way Kara’s hands, which hold her together.

#supergirl #supercorp #fanfic #karlena #kryptonian #i wrote this on a whim #please give me feedback #this is my first fic #be kind

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bbycecexo · 3 years

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( alissa violet , cisfemale , she/her ) did i just see cecilia “cece” zimmerman around campus ? i’m sure that’s them , because the twenty - two years old music engineering student is one of eastview university’s most charming juniors . nothing's been confirmed , but they can be materialistic . there's been rumors REDACTED * — i guess the stalker might release that information soon ! [ cam , 24 , she/her , n/a ]

heeey everyone ! i hope you’re all doing good. this is my little angel cece & my name is cam . i am so excited to be here & i cant wait to get started . under the cut you will find a little rundown of my girl & HERE you will find some connections. let me know if you would like to plot by liking this & i will come to you. happy tuesday!

statistics

NAME: cecilia dolores zimmerman

AGE / GRADE: twenty two

BIRTHDAY / STAR SIGN: august 1st / leo

OCCUPATION: heiress / student

PARENTS: stefan zimmerman & aveline zimmerman ( step mother ) BIOLOGICAL MOTHER UNKNOWN

SIBLINGS: younger step sister, younger half brother.

HOBBIES: partying , ballet , clothes design , influencing , dj’ing , dancing , drawing & astrology

LIKES: drugs , getting drunk , making music , doing things she shouldn’t , eating , travelling , perfume & expensive things

DISLIKES: her step mother , her younger half sister , sports , authority , insects , being told what to do , being bored.

DREAMS: to be a worldly known DJ

FEARS: losing her father, being forgotten , snakes , being heartbroken , being known for being her fathers daughter the whole of her life.

AESTHETICS: the flick of her hair to attract attention , which emits the scent of green apple ; a matching monogrammed compact mirror and hairbrush that she never leaved the house without ; the clinking of champagne flutes that have been stained with a crimson lipstick stain ; the fake but charming giggle that leaves her lips when she has missed the joke

background

she was born in switzerland , but when she was 2 her mother just left, with no explanation. thankfully, being the owner of a very well known and successful swiss investment firm her father could manage raising her alone. ( or so he thought )

she spent most of her childhood between london and zurich, she was always by her fathers side & even though they had staff and she had a nanny - he always tried his best to be a part of her upbringing - they were best friends

until she was 14 , when he met a woman & fell in love with her - she had a daughter of her own and they were both like the step mother and sisters from cinderella. they did whatever they could to make cece’s life a living hell.

after they got married, she began to see less and less of her father & that killed her. she was so desperate for his attention , that she would do anything to get it - which got her into trouble.

when she was 18 , she overheard a conversation with her step sister and step mother about how they were wanting to sponge as much of her fathers money as they could, as well as doing whatever they could to keep cece and him away from eachother.

she tried her best to warn her father of this, but he was so besotted with aveline that he didn’t believe her & it was then that she decided that her lifes aim was to not only make her step mother and step sisters lives a living hell - but to split them up too.

with how rich her father was, always making the top 5 in forbes - her family became a lot like celebrities & she used that to her advantage to get whatever the hell she wanted & her fathers money was used to bail her out of whatever trouble she got herself into.

she most definitely made a name for herself not only in the swiss tabloids but in the british ones too - but never for good reasons, always for scandals.

so her father wanted her to be straightened out a little, bring her down to earth & give her a taste of reality — thats where college came in, specifically east view.

personality

shes a really nice girl , will try to treat everyone the exact same

such a soft soul , shes just a bit of a mess at the moment.

very emotional , like she will cry over anything - having a father who doesn’t believe a word that you say really takes its toll on you

but can be really spoiled at times - she doesn’t mean it, shes just really used to having things go her way

very materialistic, always has to have the best and newest things

shes very bubbly , charming and naive & can also be seen as a bit of a ditz sometimes too

she can never tell her real friends from the ones who are using her for her money and status

for her, her social life is EVERYTHING - she is invited to EVRY PARTY and always attends.

shes a very affectionate person , almost to the point of falling in love with a new person every day

she hasn’t had many relationships - as since she got older she began to believe that you didn’t really need to label things & things didn’t need to be so — official.

shes a little bit dependant on drugs ( with the potential to get worse ) always looking for her next high

makes so many mistakes but never learns from them

MORE TO BE ADDED SOON

#eastview:intro

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

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Fic: The Hand and The Hammer

August Walker x Reader (YOU)

Word count: 5K, Explicit

Summary: August Walker has been living rent free in your head for five years. For half a decade, you had been deployed all across the world to hunt down the elusive anarchist, all because of a long standing one sided love/hate relationship between he and your unhinged employer.

Thanks to @lightsidecalling for your support

Part I

You lie beneath cool white sheets, watching the white-yellow wash of early morning sunlight tickle at the edges of billowy sheer curtains. It takes several minutes for the light to seep through the curtains, spill across the bare stone floor and then paint indulgent stripes of gold across your duvet.

Throwing off the sheets to allow the rising sun to caress and warm your naked skin, you close your eyes and bask in the heat like a contented house cat.

You have absolutely nothing to do today. Your diary is gloriously empty of responsibilities and just as you've done for the last three weeks, you fully intend to take advantage of your free time.

You stretch and yawn, feeling comfortable exactly where you are, and you consider sleeping in. However, your stomach growls and abruptly the quest for food is suddenly top priority. You grab the mobile phone that's tucked beneath the pillow and the face brightens at a touch.

You can see that it’s almost eleven am.

You perk up at the rattle of a room service cart being wheeled through the sitting room outside of your bedroom door.

Right on time, you think.

You had requested that breakfast be brought round at a certain time, and everyday, it was there without delay. The staff in the rented oceanside bungalow was always on the ball, always attentive and you appreciated that.

Rising easily, you walk lightly across the cool stone floor to the adjoining bath. Powdered and perfumed, you dress in a light, peach coloured sundress and sandals.

An ocean breeze ruffles your dress when you step out onto the sunny patio where breakfast is waiting. It is quite a spread, for just one person, with juice, coffee and tea services, seasonal fruits, cheeses, breakfast meats and a lovely stack of golden french toast that is still pert and fresh from the cooker. You walk to the shade provided by the umbrellas over the long glass table and help yourself to the food.

Nearly a half hour later, the service door behind you slides open on quiet rollers and you can hear your assistant striding across the paving stones.

'Phone call for you,' he says in that gentle familiar voice.

You replace the coffee cup on the saucer and shift, fully expecting him to slip a thin mobile phone into your hand. Instead, he lays a bulky black leather case on the table. You look down at it and swear under your breath.

It is the satellite phone. And the satellite phone means only one thing.

You pick it up and hold the earpiece it to your ear.

The messenger down the line delivers the information quickly, sparing no words and then asks if you understand. You say that you do and the call is disconnected.

So much for a day of nothing.

You finish your breakfast and return to your bedroom. Waiting for you on the freshly made bed are two white envelopes. You pick up the larger of the two. In it is a stack of your destination's local money, and airline tickets. You tuck that envelope into your handbag, dress in comfortable, but chic travel clothing and pack a small carry-on.

You then pick up the second, smaller envelope that you know contains information regarding the target. This envelope, unlike the first, is sealed with a black wax stamp. You recognise the initials of your employer and the envelope comes open with a flick of your fingernail. You slide out a black and white photo and have an immediate and unnamed visceral reaction to seeing the face. Unconsciously clenching your teeth you resist the urge to rip the cursed photo to pieces.

'Fuck...' you mutter, glaring down at the strong, unbearably handsome face peering back at you.

It was the infamous Hammer.

August Walker.

Again.

You struggle to get yourself in hand and after a long, cleansing breath, you turn the photo over and read the neatly printed message about a lonely summer in Italy addressed to a fictional, 'My darling Véronique.'

With picture still in hand, you walk to your writing desk. Opening the top drawer, you pull out a piece of white card-stock paper that has in it, several cut out ovals of different sizes. You’d received this little holey card-stock in the post three weeks earlier with no accompanying explanation, and while it was strange, you knew enough about your employer's methods to keep it.

Lining up the white card over the writing, you read the secret message revealed by the ovals.

'Target - August Walker. Find and Take Alive.'

'Ohh,' you groan, exasperated. 'Not this again.'

August Walker has been living rent free in your head for five years. For half a decade, you had been deployed all across the world to hunt down the anarchist, all because of a long standing one sided love/hate relationship between he and your unhinged employer.

You were good at your profession. Very good. And you had no trouble using your skill and your people to get close to hard targets. Yet, August Walker was not a bloody hard target and was NOT hard to find as he seemed to leave a trail of destruction and bodies that in turn led directly back to him!

So much for subtlety.

So it didn't matter much that you were able to pinpoint his location or get a visual bead on him days after the start of an assignment, as your employer invariably hit the mission abort button because 'things had changed'.

You were still paid handsomely. But being at the whim of a mad employer made you start to hate August Walker a little as well.

At least, at first.

Your hate soon turned from a hot coal sitting heavily in your gut to little butterflies that frantically scrambled about at the sight of him.

Over the course of your assignments, you'd had the opportunity to see him do nearly everything ranging from eating, to fighting, to blowing up buildings. The way he moved during a fight, his well-placed blows, his underhanded methods of winning were intoxicating to watch. The man was an absolute menace.

You'd told yourself that your physical delight was just a response to your clear admiration for his chaotic skills.

That admiration was purely professional, of course!

But the more you followed and watched him, the more those little butterflies of admiration ignited into an unquenchable fire that only your hand seeking out a little self-pleasure beneath the duvet could put out.

But honestly, you would have fallen on your proverbial sword before you admitted to yourself that you found everything about August Walker, sexy.

And then he disappeared.

No destruction, no bodies and the trail was cold.

During the rest of that assignment, you didn't see him for two month until the night he climbed through the french windows of your Parisian hotel room.

To say that you were surprised to see him was an understatement.

But there he was, standing in your bedroom, like a fever dream, with that ridiculous moustache and that infuriating smirk.

He did not give you the opportunity to react, before he was upon you.

But that didn't matter, for you wrapped yourself around him, greedy and eager and August Walker took his time showing you how much of a menace he truly was.

You neglected to tell your employer about those few glorious hours of mission deviation.

No use throwing petrol on that unstable fire, you'd decided.

You were pulled from the field shortly after that because 'things had changed' and it was no longer necessary to bring in the target.

Your last and most recent assignment ended in Beirut ten months ago. You had come so close to legitimately ensnaring him. You had been in top form and August had been cunning, but it was not enough to elude you. You'd had him dead to rights and all you had to do was give the word to tighten the noose round his neck. But before you could, that damned satellite phone call dragged you back from the brink.

And you remembered standing there, dirty, and exhausted on a crumbling rooftop watching that smug bastard escape through the streets below on a stolen motorbike.

The only thing that soothed you was a text from a blocked number, received a week after the Beruit incident, that read, 'Next time, baby.'

You had to laugh at that. It was so something August would do.

Coming back to the present and shaking yourself of your memories, you realise that you're still standing in your oceanside bedroom holding the photo of August Walker. Checking the time, you see that you're going to be late and you grab your bags.

The photo along with the cardstock go into the shredder, and you listen to the machine choke down the evidence as you leave the room.

Your flight to Heathrow is late arriving and the airport is as busy as ever, full of children escaping on their summer hols and tourists out to see the world. You walk confidently through the melee and to the taxi stand outside. You want to get to your hotel quickly and have a nap, as you need to be sharp to handle what's coming your way.

Part II

Later that evening in your hotel, you shower and scrub up thoroughly, excited about the prospects of the evening's plan. You powder and perfume your body carefully and choose a pair of glossy red high heeled court shoes to go with your black dress. You feel sharp, clear-eyed and ready for a little fun. This assignment was going to be played on your terms and was probably going to be your last.

Carrying your kit bag with all of your tools, you hum along with the lift music (The Girl from Ipanema) as you descend to the lobby where your contact waits. You follow him to a black car waiting outside and climb inside.

As you are driven through the city, your contact sits next to you not saying a word. Your only form of communication is through the tablet he puts on your lap. You look down at the digital photo on the screen.

It is an image of August in what looks like a dance club. Only he didn't look like he was there to pick up women, or to have drinks with friends. He looked big and bulky and out of place amongst the scantily clad glittery people having a fun night out. He looked like he was lurking, and waiting for something.

'That was taken one minute ago,' says the contact as the car, caught by a traffic light, slows to a stop.

'In that one.'

The contact points towards the window on your side of the car.

Your eyes follow the line of his finger to the brightly lighted neon sign spelling out the name of a club.

'Am I on the list?' you ask and a sudden giggle surprises you.

You open your mouth to apologise for the awkward comment, but you grab your kit bag and slam the door without waiting for a reply.

You walk up to the front of the club and survey the queue waiting to get in. You count up the number of bouncers but keep walking. You make a quick right, cut through the alleyway and come up to the backside of the club. There is a young woman wearing the club's uniform, standing under the emergency building light, and using her weight to keep open the rear door. She is smoking and scrolling through her mobile.

'Hullo,' you say pleasantly, as you approach, your heels clicking on the dry macadam.

She raises her bleary bloodshot eyes to peer at you. You look at her name tag and under her name is a strip of tape on which is scrawled, 'Barkeep trainee'.

She looks like she is having a rough night as if she didn't know how to handle all of the drinks that overly generous customers bought for her, as the bartender.

'You're not supposed to actually drink it when they buy it for you, you know. You're supposed to spit it into your empty beer bottle.'

Her only answer is a wet burp.

Grinning and shaking your head, you put a finger to your lips and make a soft shushing noise as you put two hundred quid into her hand. Then without asking, you enter the club.

Once inside, the whole world shakes around you, vibrating with the thunderous bass that accompanies some nameless, formless song. You lean against the wall between the men's and the ladies' toilets for a moment, letting your eyes adjust to the dim lightning. The scent of urine and alcohol permeates your hiding place, but you don’t mind, as you aren’t going to be hiding there for very long. The ancient cigarette machine across the narrow corridor seemed to eye you disapprovingly.

'Yeah, I don't want to be here either,' you mutter.

Opening your kit bag, you fish out your small purse. In it are your syringes, and vials of incapacitating drugs. You are going to go in there with all guns blazing and August Walker is not going to know what hit him. You even left the satellite phone in the hotel room. You weren't going to give your employer an opportunity to back out of the deal and order you to let him escape. Again.

Squaring your shoulders, you stride into the main hall. The club is partitioned into two levels, where the floor above overlooks the main floor on all four sides. You stand by the lower bar and let your keen eyes crawl all over the neon lighted faces. The music screams unpleasantly and immediately your head starts to hurt.

It is the stress, you think.

The stress and the travelling and you haven’t had any water all day.

But instead of water, you order a whisky sour and drink it quickly. It doesn’t quell your headache, but it bolsters your mood. You continue to look around and honestly, if he hadn't moved, you would have never spotted him up on the second level.

Your heart picks up speed.

Dear God, there he is. The unbearably sexy August Walker.

Ducking away from the bar, you go round to where the stairs dog-leg to the next level. Once up there, you weave your way through the thick standing crowd. Then you just stop moving and the crowd buffets you for a moment. You realise that in your zeal to just get your hands on August, you have no other plan.

Sure, you were going to jab him with the hypodermic, but what were you going to do if his knees just gave out beneath him. You would have to make a scene to get your contacts in there to drag the big man away. You were not going to be able to haul him down to the car on your own. And the last thing you wanted to do was to draw attention to yourself.

You growl with frustration and push your way to the more intimate bar at the back of the area. It is just a little quieter there and you take the needed space and time to regroup. You order another whisky sour and face the bar to drink it and think.

Have I been hasty?

Am I unprepared for this?

Has my judgement been clouded by my hubris?

A tall man comes close to you at the bar, but you ignore him. He is probably just ordering something and will move off soon. But when he doesn’t order, or move away, you turn to look up at him, ready to give him the business.

August Walker towers over you, smirking and looking like the cat that ate the canary.

In your mind, you know that you should feel angry, or disappointed, or even afraid, but you can't bring yourself to feel anything but relief.

He grabs you up by the arm and all but pulls you through the crowd and to one of the private rooms in the back. The room he picks is dim and backlit with baby pink and purple lights and the furniture looked soft and fun. The room is also clearly occupied by several people who looked to be having a private coke party in the corner. However they do not object to your sudden presence.

August crowds you up against the soft bubbly wall, one hand against it above your head and the other hovering at your waist.

'I'm going to search you,' he says, his eyes boring into yours.

A surge of heat rushes up inside you, but whether it was from anguish or arousal, you aren’t sure. Two whiskey sours on a stomach that only had jelly babies is making everything start to blur together.

'No you will not!' you manage to growl indignantly.

He raises a dark brow. His smirk lengthens into something more mischievous and his blue eyes warm considerably and you know he's not a threat.

'Then show me that you are not armed.'

'You can go fuck yourself.'

August grunts with amusement and you bite your lip.

This is not the time to bring up sex.

You can see the wheels turning in his head and he heaves himself backwards. With the movement, you catch his scent and you are immediately rocketed back to the night he positively wrecked you. You remembered feeling deliciously tender for the rest of that week.

The demon inside you lurches in its metaphorical cage.

Want him, want him, want...

He holds open his plain black suit jacket with both hands in an obvious effort to show that he is wearing his weapon in a hip holster. Unfortunately, all you can see is how his tie nestles quite contentedly between his big, meaty pecs.

The demon in the back of your mind reminds you that he's got soft hair on his chest and belly and you fight the desire to touch him.

August clears his throat and catches your attention.

Yes, you think. Yes, focus. His face is right there, focus. Not on the memory of that beautiful chest.

He quirks his brows to indicate that you need to show that you aren't packing. But you are only wearing a thin dress with a light half jacket and couldn't possibly be hiding anything. Instead, you cock your head and mock him, opening your little half jacket to show him you weren't armed. At least not in that spot.

August seems to accept it, because he is obviously more interested in the reason why you are there.

'It's time to end this.'

'End what?' you ask feigning innocence.

He takes your handbag, and opens it before you can protest. Seeing the contents, he flattens his lips into a tight line and then tosses the bag onto the floor. You watch it roll over once and come to rest in the corner.

'Stop. Following. Me,' he growls and leans in closer obviously using his powerfully built frame to intimidate you.

'I-- I can't. I have a job to do.'

You keep your face turned away, eyes still on the handbag in the corner.

It’s the only way that you can remain sane with him this close.

Against your back you can feel the thump of muted music, you can smell his cologne and hear the faraway voices of the other occupants. You are starting to drift a little more, buoyed by the particular pleasure you’re receiving from his attempt to cow you.

August is good at reading people and when his big hand come to rest at your waist, you know he’s read you like an open book. He slides that hand to the small of your back and the other hand reaches down to touch you where your dress hem meets your lower thigh.

He arches you against him and you let out a soft eager gasp.

'Well... well...'

His voice is low, breath warm against your temple and he sounds excruciatingly self satisfied.

'What am I gonna have to do to get you off my back?'

Mmm there is that tone again. That tone that tells you that he is a man who does not mince his words. He is a man who is unafraid to show his intentions with his actions. Your heart wrenches in your chest. You feel sexy and mysterious in his presence. You are the woman he can’t get enough of. You are in control, not him, and deep down, August knows it.

You roll your head away from where you were looking at the purse. You look up into his eyes and slide your arms about his neck.

August needs no other prompting. His big hands tighten round your waist and he heaves you up off of your feet. One of your court shoes slips off of one foot and when you land on your knees astride his lap on the soft, pink couch, you grab the heel of the other and fling it over to its mate.

August Walker is an incredible specimen of male human form. His smirking face and ridiculous moustache arouses feelings of frustration and anger in you even as his thumbs inch up the hem of your dress. The foolishness of your flighty employer, August's elusiveness (for the most part) and the whole incomprehensibility of your futile, prematurely aborted missions, all suddenly come to a head.

You sit back on his lap and scowl, giving his meaty chest a thump with the base of your loosely curled fist. That stops him and surprise is evident in his blue eyes. You narrow your eyes in return and baring your teeth slightly, you tighten your fist and hit him again. Harder.

Then again, even harder.

You pull him up by his neatly knotted tie and slap his face. The sound of skin on skin is loud in the quiet room.

Oh, that felt good.

A second stretches into an eternity between you and you watch a mixture of hurt, and something else that decidedly wasn't anger ghost across his face. It was arousal. Slapping him across the face obviously turned him on.

You huff a laugh and he grins, the challenge is clear.

'Looks like you wanna play,' he rumbles darkly.

August reaches both hands beneath your dress and grabbing your knickers, he drags them down your trembling thighs.

‘Up,’ he instructs you and when you rise to your knees he slaps your ass and grabs an indulgent handful. 'Good girl.'

You yelp and moan with delight, steadying yourself with both hands against him. With his help, you manage to only get one leg free, but you don't care. August has enough access and you watch him lick two fingers which he slides into your wet heat.

You gasp and shudder, lewdly pushing your hips towards him rocking in time with the motion of his fingers dragging across your sensitive slit.

Fuck... fuck! This shouldn't be happening, you think, trying to keep your thoughts from running together. Not here, not now this is crazy!

'C'mon,' August encourages you, warm hand stroking your bum. 'Take my cock out. I wanna fill that sweet little pussy up.'

You drop into his lap again to do as you were told. His cock is thick and hot in your hand and he groans when you give him an experimental squeeze. August cups your hips and lifts you again. There's no longer any perceivable space between the two of you and when you let him push you down on his ready cock, there is no longer any singular breath. It's just one breath, your shared breath.

You wrap your arms about his shoulders and bury your face into his neck. You need his steadiness to keep from exploding into tiny pieces.

'You drive me crazy,' you gasp, breathless from the rush of heat drowning you.

August holds you and you match the motion of his body. It isn't long until he has built a relentless rhythm and you are begging him for release. You can feel yourself taking out all of your pent up frustrations on him. The heat and strength of him inside you is enough to drive away all of your fears and worries, replacing them with pleasure.

You lift your head and kiss him. His mouth is soft and yielding and you are confused by this new tide of tender emotions that rush in on the aftermath of your orgasm.

You melt against him, hiding your face in his neck to recover from the high and just like during his unexpected visit to your hotel all those months ago, August caresses you until you're able to recover.

You hum softly and open your eyes to sheepishly peek at the other people still in the pink and purple room. They're far away enough, but you can see that they are way too coked out to care about what you two deviants are doing.

'They know you're here,' you murmur after a moment, stroking his stubble rough cheeks and smoothing his rumpled curls.

'Hmm.'

'They got you on film.'

'I'll take care of it,' he whispers back, matching your intimate tone.

You nod and with a groan, you heave yourself off of him and stagger back to your feet. He grabs you to help you regain your balance and you're grateful for his quick reflexes. You didn't want to end the night falling and cracking your head open on a coffee table. There's a stack of napkins by the wine bottles on one of the tables. You grab a handful and hand some to him. You both avoid each other's eyes as you clean up and you grab your purse and shoes.

Contemplating the contents of your purse you say to him, 'Are you gonna let me jab you with this?'

August grins quite suddenly and you are charmed by his disarming smile.

'No,' he says with laughter in his voice.

'Tsk... ok.'

You feign disappointment even though you know that you were going to go through with it anyway.

Back in order, August pushes himself off of the couch. He takes you by the wrist and pulls you close. He holds your gaze, making sure that you cannot mistake his meaning.

'Come with me.'

You stare at him. Oh, it's so tempting that it hurts when you turn him down.

'You know my methods... why I do the things I do. You know, and I know you understand me.'

‘I understand. I understand. But I can’t.’

August flattens his lips into a grim line again, but he nods and releases you.

‘Don't forget to take care of that… thing,’ you tell him in parting.

You want to stay so badly. You want to run away with him and you nearly turn around when you reach the room door. But you force yourself to keep moving forward and out of his life.

There is a message waiting for you when you return to the hotel.

Mission aborted.

Reason - ‘things have changed’.

Part III

You lie in your oceanside bedroom listening to the room service cart rattling through the adjoining room. It's time to get up for breakfast. You get out of bed, stretch, yawn and disappear into the bath to wash up and prepare for another delightfully leisurely day.

The stone floor is warm against your bare feet and you walk towards the patio and out through the sliding doors. The mid-morning sunlight is blinding and you put a hand up to shield your eyes. The beach is empty today with only a few boats dotting the clear blue waves. Maybe a swim later is in order, you think as you turn towards the umbrella shaded breakfast table.

A strange sight makes you stop in your tracks. There is a dark haired man sitting at the table, with his eyes closed, and his face tilted up to catch the sun not blocked by the edge of the umbrella.

'August,' you whisper softly to yourself as if saying his name any louder would make the mirage fade away.

You walk closer and clasping your hands together, you hover at the far end of the table.

'August.'

Alerted to your presence, he lowers his head and opens his eyes to look at you. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

'What are you doing here, August? You shouldn't be here... it... it isn't safe.'

'I came for you,' he says as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say.

'No. No, you're leaving now. Right now.'

He looks at you for a moment and with his foot, August slides out the chair next to him and gestures a lazy hand to it.

'Breakfast first.'

Sure, you think, rolling your eyes. Breakfast first. You sit down beside him.

August pours coffee for you. You watch him quietly and without really meaning to, you reach out to put your hand against his cheek. August stills at your touch and when he leans down to kiss you, you curl your fingers into his sun-warmed hair.

'Come with me,' he murmurs against your lips. 'I want you to be with me.'

'You know I can't.'

And even as the words come out of your mouth, you don't believe them.

August scoffs and is about to try another tactic, but is interrupted by the softly opening service door.

You watch your assistant approach with the heavy satellite phone. He gives August an impassive look and hands the phone to you. Your assistant also places two white envelopes on the table by your empty plate. August watches you put the phone up to your ear.

The messenger down the line is different this time, but delivers the information in the same monotone voice before asking if you understand.

'I understand,' you say. 'But... but, I will open the envelope before I agree to the job.'

A beat passes.

'Go on,' says the messenger.

You open the smaller of the two envelopes, the one with the black wax seal and pull out a photo of the target. You suck your lower lip between your teeth and turn the photo around to show August his own face.

'The target is August Walker,' you say.

'Have you seen him?'

You look directly into August's face. He looks apprehensive, you think. Does he think you'll turn him in? After all this?

'No, I haven't seen him. But I won't--'

/Take the job/, August mouths to you.

'I mean I will take the job.'

You disconnect the call.

'Why did you want me to take the job?' you ask a sense of giddiness beginning to simmer in your gut.

'Because you'll never catch me.'

You tap the phone and grin.

'I can give you up right now.'

August glances at the phone.

'Will you?'

You smirk.

'Mmm, breakfast first.'

0-0 END 0-0

Thanks for reading and please like and reblog 💖 💖

#august walker x reader #august walkerxreader #reader insert #august walker #august walker/reader #henry cavill #woc reader insert #august walker x woc reader

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revalise · 4 years

Text

After the Sun [M] | 03

Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Fem. OC

Genre: Romance and eventual smut

Rating: M

Words: 3500+

Notes: I'm having a little hard time with the characters because this fic is forcing me to created too many OCs to fit a character because of they do not fit any canon characters from the anime.

This is probably my least favorite chapter and I did have a hard time writing this because of my writer's block. I started writing this around the end of August and finished it only last week.

But anyway, we move to my favorite parts starting from the next chapter! I have to say that this is my favorite work though, so I may or may not be paying attention more to this.

Thanks to Risa for beta reading this chapter again!

Check the updated Spotify playlist and give it a follow if you want to get a better idea of the fic and just listen to good music! /hj

Masterlist | 02 | 04

Chrollo Lucilfer gets everything he wants, when he wants—even if it means undergoing extreme measures. Nothing bothered him, until an aphrodite, Astra Gerber, appeared one night and stole from the infamous thief. In return that Chrollo doesn't report her, he strikes a deal. But it could be more than what Astra bargained for.

FOOL’S GOLD

Astra’s phone rang continuously from the nightstand as she laid in her bed, asleep on her stomach, arms wrapped around the side of her head. Soft, comfortable, and clean white sheets kept her from waking from her slumber.

No, she hadn’t woken up from all the chaos that awaited as the sound of her ringtone filled the entire room. Rather, she had woken up to a loud banging on the door of the hotel room.

She kicked away the comforter that covered the sheer nightgown that wrapped her body. Hissing under her breath with closed eyes, willing herself to fall asleep once more. But the banging only continued, loud and louder until she had no other choice to get on her feet, open the door, and let out a stream of vicious curses at the source. So she wore her irritation on her face, stretched in all the edges, lined with her features that screamed beauty all throughout.

Astra grasped the metal handle, the coldness biting back on the smoothness of her skin. Then a familiar, vexed face met with hers.

“What have you done?” His strained voice erupted against the room. He hadn't waited for her to invite him in. No, he walked past her the moment she opened the door.

He was clad in purple-worked wonder, though a bit too fancy and too flashy for the morning.

“What have you done?” Satotz repeated once more as he sagged on the red ottoman.

Astra crossed her arms, arching a brow and turning to face him. “What do you mean what have I done?”

“Miss…” a timid voice said from beside her. Too timid, too small, and all too shy.

She shot a side glance at the source, revealing Khara. Astra’s brow rose upward, “What?” she snarled.

***

Khara blinked at the anger and irritation that seeped from Astra’s tone. It took all she had to stop herself from staggering backwards and to appear unintimidated, but it was all too hard for her—all too hard since she’d started working with her.

In truth, Khara looked forward to working with celebrities and being their assistant. And she's been excited to work with Astra. But at Astra’s first wave of a hand, she commanded her to do things she wasn’t sure were included in her job description. Or if it were, it consisted of driving half-across town for the food Astra wanted, subject to her cravings, and coming back to the packing and darkening lights of the set as the staff shut them close.

Astra would snap her fingers once, and Khara would be inclined to come rushing forward in hopes of avoiding the unnecessary lashing out of the lady. She was only a few years younger than Astra, but sometimes, she wondered if she were the older one.

Khara handed a newspaper to Astra, fighting the shudder that shook her hands violently. Her head aligned with the level of her chest as she bowed low and extended her hands. Despite all her efforts, it still showed, making Astra snicker and roll her eyes in response.

Astra strode towards the couch beside Satotz, sitting casually and gracefully, and ignoring the poor girl that was left just outside the door. Khara didn’t say a word, but her face contorted in embarrassment. Her short, black hair and bangs—that she got on a whim because she felt old—kept in the way of her sight. She blinked twice before inviting herself in, but as she did, the familiar perfume she’d memorized all too well invaded her nostrils.

“Good morning, Khara.”

Khara whipped her head around as her heart hammered in her chest.

“G-Good morning, sir,” Khara stuttered, earning a subtle chuckle from Wing, who just so happens to be Astra’s brother.

As rude and as bold as Astra was, Wing was the complete opposite of his sister. He talked with grace and utmost respect, bred like that of those who grew up in their father’s mansion. The way he talked, as Khara would have described it, was smooth and quiet. Polite.

He was very handsome. Tall and lean with raven-black hair just like his sister. Dark brows that accentuated his eyes. Those eyes. Khara swallowed.

One slow, deliberate examination was all it took for Khara to determine the hard muscle that lay underneath his clothed arms. But somehow, he’d always leave his shirt untucked.

“You don’t have to call me, ‘sir,’ Khara. Just Wing will do,” he flashed his white teeth in a smile.

“Okay…” She blushed at the mention of her name and hesitated, “...Wing.” She smiled, and she hoped it didn’t come off forced and awkward.

If Wing found it indifferent, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he only reached a hand over, “Let me help you with that.”

That was when Khara realized the paperbag of coffee dangling from her fingers. Quickly, she shook her head, “It’s okay! I can do it.”

He gave her a friendly smile, “No fair maiden should be carrying anything at all.”

Khara swore, she could have died right then and there. Could have. Only if the sharp memory of Astra making her carry her entire luggage didn’t obliterate her.

At the sole thought of Astra, she yelled from inside the room with utmost impatience, “Khara, did you get my coffee?”

Khara paid a quick glance at Astra, who was eyeing a magazine in her hand as she sat alone on the big, red velvet couch with gold wooden outlines, her feet resting on the coffee table that stacked the same fashion magazines she’d been reading. Completely ignoring Satotz who was massaging his temples from the seat beside her.

She gave Wing a tight smile before rushing over to Astra and opened the small lid for her. Astra paid her no attention as she sipped her coffee.

***

Wing invited himself into Astra's room. The first to notice him was Satotz, who widened his eyes at his appearance. Immediately standing up to greet the young lad and shaking his hand, the other clapping on his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Wing greeted.

“Yes, yes. Good morning,” Satotz smiled in return before beckoning Wing to take his seat, even dusting off the cushion with his bare hands.

Astra paid her brother no attention as she scanned the magazine that rested on her thighs. Wing braced his forearms on his knees, giving Astra a polite smile, “Good morning to you too, Astra.”

She didn’t even bother to look up at her brother when she replied curtly, “What’s good about the morning?”

Satotz could only bite his lip in nervousness as he shooed off Khara, making her scoot over.

Oh how interactions with Astra bothered her so much.

Fortunately, Wing was unlike his sisters. Perhaps it was because he was a man and had no interest in the drama surrounding their family, but whatever issues Astra had with her family, he stayed out of it. Women and their dramas.

If Satotz could properly put it into words, Wing was probably the only one in the family who could stand Astra. Even when she had her series of attitudes.

He only smiled, proceeding with another question, “How are you?”

Astra raised her head this time, brows creasing as she gave Wing a look that basically said ‘Why are you asking the obvious?’

“Woke up a bad bitch,” Astra said as she shrugged. “What’s new?”

Satotz issued a rather nervous laugh, hoping to snap Astra out of her misbehavior, “Astra just woke up. That’s why.”

Wing turned his attention to Satotz, seemingly unbothered by Astra, “May I ask your business with my sister, Satotz?” he asked politely.

Satotz felt a faint warmth in his chest, touched that the younger Gerber remembered his name. As he recalled, Astra’s family scorned the thought of show business. Therefore, he wasn’t well received in the family though he promised to answer their questions whatever it was.

But the calls stopped two years ago, when Astra found herself in too many dating scandals. Astra never asked, but Satotz knew she was curious if her father ever called to ask about her.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, switching to a rather serious tone as he pulled his phone from his pocket and displayed a picture of Chrollo and Astra looking a little too friendly—way too friendly. “This has been all over social media, tabloids, and insiders.”

***

Astra took a good look at the headline, reading loudly for them to hear, “Astra Gerber with another guy?” she almost yelled when she said the penultimate word.

She creased her brows as she took the device, reading the entire article, “And what is wrong with that?”

“You just had a dating scandal last month!” Satotz exclaimed.

She pinched her nose with her fingers, “It’s not my fault they love to start rumors and men love to jump on it.”

“And how come I don’t know any of this? It doesn’t benefit anything. Not even promotions,” Satotz added, ignoring her remark.

“Not all,” Wing grinned with an underlying meaning that piqued Satotz’s interest, tilting his head to the side, beckoning him to keep talking.

“Actually,” heturned his body towards Astra, “Dad sent me here to invite you to dinner tomorrow.”

“Dinner?” Satotz asked.

Wing nodded, “He didn’t say anything else, but it seems he’s interested.”

***

Astra’s heart pounded mercilessly. Her Dad wanted to see her? It felt unreal, but she didn’t say anything. She pretended to be interested in the comments instead, snorting and sneering at some of them.

[+128, -19] what’s new lol

[+154, -98] I feel bad for these people. Just a dating scandal and everyone’s at it like they killed someone

[+92, -23] right? lol if normal people can do it too why not them

[+19, -2] ew

She arched her brow on the last one before typing a comment in reply.

“Hey, don’t say anything! That’s my account!” Satotz tried to reach for his phone but Astra brought it up higher.

I��m sorry your screen is so reflective, she typed. As soon as she hit ‘reply,’ she took notice of the comment posted right underneath the one she replied to.

[+429, -19] i feel bad for all the lipstick that guy had to consume… he doesn’t deserve that ><

[18, -1] LMAOOOOOO

Astra would never admit it, but she almost laughed. Satotz thought she might reply to another comment and swiped the phone out of her grasp, reading the comment for himself.

He couldn’t help but cackle, almost choking on his coffee. Khara peered from his side, taking a peek at the device.

“Now that is funny,” Satotz laughed.

Khara grinned shyly, “Is it? I guess it is.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” Astra crossed her arms and gave a sly smile, “but if I find that person, they’re dead.”

Khara remained silent throughout the whole conversation.

***

It was still too early for Chrollo to inhale his second stick of cigarette as he looked over the city from the tall building where his empire stood.

He wore his three-piece suit as he held the cigarette with his right hand, the other tucked inside the pocket of his slacks.

From this distance, Chrollo could feel how far he'd come from the slums of Meteor City. He was no longer that boy who scraped off whatever could be salvaged from garbage.

Chrollo Lucilfer was now a bachelor. Rich and young. Just one snap of his ivory fingers and whatever he wants is his. Everything he did was calculated. Careful and clever. He couldn’t care less about arriving at his own judgment day, but he would never want to endanger his friends.

But last night was a mistake.

It took all of Chrollo’s self-control to pull away. The moment he felt something inexplicable was the moment he realized there was something wrong with him.

Usually, he gave the ladies gifts to keep them from complaining once he lost interest. But that night, he realized how genuinely he wanted to give Astra something.

He puffed out smoke when he recalled her words. He had pulled away and she wore that sultry smile. That sultry smile and that mouth that needed reminding of where it belongs.

“You be very careful,” she said slowly as she ran her hands down his blazer, straightening it. “I like you. And you see,” her eyes met his, challenging and batting those long lashes, “I have a habit of always getting what I want.”

Chrollo reached for the silver necklace he usually had around his neck, only to feel its absence. And he remembered that he still has yet to obtain that necklace back from Astra.

The door groaned as it opened and Paku’s voice echoed through the big office, “You should see this.”

***

Astra was already an hour late for dinner when she stood right outside the manor. Her family’s chauffeur took her red Bugatti to the parking lot when she stopped in front of the big, carved double doors embellished with golden markings that extended from one side to the other.

Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat was engraved in stone against the header, clean and written in cursive.

She licked her red lips as she smiled, remembering the meaning of what her family believed in for so long, “Fortune favors the brave.”

Even in the darkness, the manor shone brightly with the unnecessary lights as if it dared to rival the stars. She circled her fingers around the metal handle, flexing, until finally pushing it open.

Astra roamed her eyes around the interior. The first thing she noticed was how much none of it seemed to change. The house was designed with white and mahogany. A little too old for her liking, but everything about it screamed ‘old money.’

“Welcome home, miss,” Zeno, lowered his head at Astra as she entered.

Home, Astra snorted, laughing at the idea. Nah, not that.

She masked her face with merriment, the corners of her red lips twitching upwards, “Old age suits you perfectly, Zeno.”

Zeno's face was lined with wrinkles—a lot more than how she used to remember. His hair had turned silver, hunched shoulders, eyes a little watery, and the bags that rounded them looked saggy.

Even in his old age, she could still point out how he was her father’s favorite. She didn’t know exactly why, but Zeno had always been around her father. Always.

A compliment teased along Astra’s tongue regarding Zeno's loyalty to his father, but she bit back on that action. It wasn’t about Zeno's loyalty to her father, but his loyalty to her grandfather.

“Heh,” Zeno huffed, his face concealed with neutrality. Despite his old age and the difference in appearance, eloquence impacted his voice, not an ounce of fragility coming from the old man. “I see you’re still the same as ever.”

He turned to the side, extending a hand sidelong, “This way, please.”

“If you’d please,” Astra curtsied, mimicking Zeno’s formality only to tease.

Astra walked her way with the majordomo. Occasionally, she stole glances from the interior, comparing and checking how each used to be from the last time she remembered. She stalked past the elegant, absurdly expensive pianoforte in the hall. Shining jetblack in color with outlines of gold in its edges. A memory crossed her mind of playing with its keys and how her piano teacher used to yell at her for not understanding the lesson sooner.

A child from a rich family should be able to play at least one instrument.

Then she paced through bigger chandeliers as Zeno stopped along the opened double doors to the dinner hall, keeping his gnarled fingers clasped together as he stood upright.

“Thank you,” Astra mouthed as she entered, earning a terse nod from Zeno himself.

Martin sat at the head of the long, rectangular table—accented with a velvety red linen—to his right was his wife and Astra’s stepmother, Emilia, followed by Anais then Margaux, while Wing sat on the opposite side. Astra took notice of the empty seat beside her father on his left and right beside Wing.

“Oh, there she is,” Anais, her stepsister, jeered, rolling her eyes as soon as she spotted Astra.

Anais was the eldest in the family. And she had always been mean to Astra. A few pranks here and there that servants in the manor often felt bad for Astra. But one summer night after spending a whole year with Zazan, Astra pulled her big sister’s hair and Anais learned to keep her distance.

Astra simpered, her red Loubotins clattering against the marble floors.

Emilia scoffed at the scene and Astra’s swagger, crossing her hands. As if Martin could sense an insulting remark from his wife, Martin spoke, “Astra, you sit beside me.”

Astra almost stopped on her feet, surprised at the offer, but she knew all too well not to let go of the chance. Besides, she had a lot of covering up to do after being so obvious of how she shuddered in Martin’s presence. She had to scratch that truth out.

“Why thanks, Daddy,” her tone was honeyed, teasing even, as she kissed her father’s cheek before slipping into the chair.

She eyed the clean plates in front of her before her brown eyes flickered over Anais, meeting her dark gaze before she broke it with another roll of the eyes to which she only smirked at.

“So what’s the big occasion?” She whipped her head at Martin, flashing him a big smile that boasted her perfect, white teeth.

“Can’t I invite my daughter over for dinner?” Martin’s voice was dry but the usual tone he often used when trying to intimidate someone was present in it. He kept his gaze on the empty plate laid in front of him, taking the silver utensils from a housemaid

“Aww,” she teased, bracing her forearms on the table. She gazed up at her father with a snakelike smile that painted her face, stretching her sensuous red lips. “Is it that time of the year where you complete your bucket list?”

Martin glared at her while Wing stifled a laugh from his seat. Margaux only reached for her glass of wine, sipping quietly.

“You’re still as rude, as ever. I see,” Emilia said, narrowing her eyes at Astra as they sat across each other. “There are some things that never could be changed from the slums.”

Astra eyed Emilia, taking in her perfectly tied blonde locks and intimidation in those green orbs. But she merely smiled and said, “You say that like I didn’t live in a villa named after your husband before this family took me under their wing.”

Emilia set her utensils down, so harshly that the plates rattled, “You are a child born of wedlock,” she drawled.

“Actually,” Astra clasped her fingers together to rest her chin, giving her stepmother a teasing grin and flashing her perfectly white teeth, “I’d rather you call me a love child.”

“That is enough!” Martin yelled, his voice deep and threatening before he shifted his gaze over to his angered wife. “Emilia,” he said, a little softer but reprimanding.

It was a little odd that Martin came to Astra’s defense. Though it perplexed Astra, she didn’t ask.

Martin’s usual punishing brown eyes were soft when it met with Astra’s. Those same brown eyes were the definite proof that she was his daughter. But despite the softness he tried to show, there was still that seriousness exuding from out of it. Business. Formality. Transaction.

“Astra,” Martin dabbed a cloth over his lips before setting it down. “How are you?”

Astra’s hands found its way to the utensils, “Fine.What else?” She said as a matter of fact.

“Attention seeker,” Anais muttered, giving Astra a conspirator’s grin before she took a bite.

She only chuckled, unaffected and amused, “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be a celebrity.”

“I heard from Satotz that you’ve been quite free lately,” Martin interrupted.

“Yes,” Astra pricked the steak with her fork. “I’m sort of on a vacation.”

“I see,” Martin replied. It took half a minute before he followed, “With Lucilfer?”

Astra remembered that she got two things from her father: those brown eyes and his iron will.

The iron will they both have to get whatever they want.

“Oh, is that what this is about?” The amusement and arrogance vanished in her eyes as her tone dropped.

“We’ve been trying to get Lucilfer on our side for about a year now. This is an important matter.”

“But he’s still so young,” she reasoned. If she remembered it correctly, young men don’t hold much importance until they’ve proven themselves—and that only happens when they’re as old as her father.

“But he holds some sort of importance,” Martin waved his hand. “And we need him.”

A warmth that swelled from her heart began to burn in her chest—a jealousy for a man she didn’t even know. She didn’t know exactly why her father needed him, and why he was so eager to. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But if having Chrollo Lucilfer meant having her father, then she’d do everything in her power to make him hers.

Astra said nothing as she set her eyes down on her plate. As she realized that this wasn’t about her.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer x oc #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh #chrollo hxh #chrollo lucilfer smut #chrollo lucilfer fanfiction #chrollo lucilfer hunter x hunter #revalise #after the sun #after the sun revalise #hxh fanfiction #hxh fanfic #fanfiction #chrollo x reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe hxh

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nerianasims · 3 years

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Billboard #1s 1984

Under the cut.

Yes -- "Owner of a Lonely Heart" -- January 21, 1984

The full version of this song is way too long. Not surprising from a former prog rock band. The music is good and interesting, but it loses me before the end even in the shorter single version. There's too much stuff. As for the lyrics, maybe that prog rock gloss made people think they were profound, but they look like self-help. Some incredibly 80s Reagan-era individualism, better to be alone than to be hurt, you're the only one you can count on, blah blah blah. Not for me. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Culture Club -- "Karma Chameleon" -- February 4, 1984

The video to this song has nothing to do with it, unless there's supposed to be a connection between the con artist on the fantasy world 19th century steamboat and the guy who keeps coming and going whom Boy George is singing to. And I didn't fully realize the "you come and go" double entendre until just now. I like the video, anyway. And I like the song quite a bit. It's a very cheerful-sounding song about being strung along by some asshole.

Van Halen -- "Jump" -- February 25, 1984

Van Halen was something boys were into. It's weird how we delineate these things. At least back in 1984, if it got coded as a boy thing, then if you were a girl and also found it interesting, you'd damn well better hide it or certain other more socially powerful kids would tear you to shreds. That was my experience, anyway. (And if other girls were into it and you were not, you were also in serious trouble.) So though when I heard Van Halen songs I thought, "hm, I'm intrigued," I did not dare pursue that interest. Except for this song. This one was allowed. It's fun.

Kenny Loggins -- "Footloose" -- March 31, 1984

Footloose is a pretty good movie. At least I remember it being so when I eventually saw it in college in the 90s. Anything that stands against censorship, and for art and people having fun, already has an in with me. Also Kevin Bacon's great. The song isn't about the movie particularly; it's just about how dancing is wonderful. Though there is a hint at the movie: "You're playing so cool/ Obeying every rule/ Deep way down in your heart/ You're burning yearning for some/ Somebody to tell you/ That life ain't passing you by/ I'm trying to tell you/ It will if you don't even try." Yeah. Agatha Christie at one point lamented that young people in the 1950s were far too serious and self-righteous, and really needed to go dance in fountains. I feel the same now as she did then. Though wait until after the covid vaccine's been widely taken. Anyway, this is a good dance song.

Phil Collins -- "Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)" -- April 21, 1984

It's a lament about being dumped. Apparently, Collins wrote it about his wife leaving him out of the blue, taking the kids and the dog with her. Ouch. There's a great drum part, which keeps the song from being too boring, but I still don't like it. Phil Collins' serious love/heartbreak songs don't do it for me. I find this one depressing without being cathartic.

Lionel Richie -- "Hello" -- May 12, 1984

I remember this video from when it was on the air. Mostly because of the Lionel Richie clay head. But also because I was like... is she his student? Isn't that a bad thing? Even though she's an adult in college, I still thought you weren't supposed to do that? I've had a major squick against teacher/student relationships, even in fiction, since I was a kid. Possibly this is because I come from a family of professors. (I didn't get a PhD and am therefore the black sheep.) Without reference to the video, the song is terrible. The lyrics are just repetitive cheese, whatever, but the song is so slow and blah and I don't like Lionel Richie's singing.

Deniece Williams -- "Let's Hear It For the Boy" -- May 26, 1984

I keep being surprised that there are people who think someone is worthless if they don't have a lot of money and don't dress fashionably. In this song, the titular boy also can't dance, but is that a thing that people get dinged for in reality? I don't know, maybe. This song was in Footloose, and it's the same sentiment as "My Guy"; her boy isn't some smooth-talking rich brat, but "he's my lovin' one-man show." He's like Edward Ferrars, not Willoughby. It's a fun song.

Cyndi Lauper -- "Time After Time" -- June 9, 1984

This is one of the greatest songs ever. Not just pop songs. Any song, of any type.

Duran Duran -- "The Reflex" -- June 23, 1984

These lyrics make no sense. That doesn't matter for this song much, which is all about the music. Which is not the best of Duran Duran's music. For all the many, many, MANY different musical ideas in it, it's actually kinda boring. They'd have done better to simplify. I imagine this sounds something like cocaine feels, though drinking way too many Mountain Dews to pull an all-nighter's my only comparison. Duran Duran were never my favorite, but I do enjoy many of their songs. This one, meh.

Prince -- "When Doves Cry" -- July 7, 1984

Prince only two songs after Cyndi Lauper? Is it my birthday? The song's lyrics start out being about the amazing chemistry between the narrator and "you." That establishes why they're together. Then Prince moves on to how they "scream at each other," and it's what it sounds like "when doves cry." He's accusatory -- "How could you just leave me standing/ Alone in a world so cold?" But then he goes right into thinking maybe it's his fault: "Maybe I'm just too demanding" etc. It's a sexy, thoughtful, and anguished song about a relationship in trouble. I like to think they'll overcome their problems and stop screaming at each other. Trust me, it's very possible. Also the music is great.

Ray Parker Jr. -- "Ghostbusters" -- August 11, 1984

Um. I have no idea how to evaluate this one. I heard it first in the theatre when I saw the movie, but I heard it years after every week when I watched the cartoon. It just... is.

Tina Turner -- "What's Love Got To Do With It" -- September 1, 1984

I have an overwhelming memory of hearing this song when I was alone in the grocery store as a teenager. I have no idea why the memory's so strong. Maybe it was the first time I went to the grocery store by myself? Maybe I ran into a guy I had a huge crush on, though I don't remember that? (If I was 16, that could have been one of any three guys... Romance is my secondary aspiration, after all.) In any case, it's a good song. The attempt to pretend love is a bunch of chemicals and doesn't truly matter is a pretty common one for the broken-hearted. And Tina Turner's great as always.

John Waite -- "Missing You" -- September 22, 1984

Two songs in a row about being in denial over matters of love. Interesting. This isn't the most fascinating song ever, but it's a good solid song about heartbreak that isn't gloopy at all. In the main vocals, Waite keeps insisting "I ain't missing you," but in the background is a soft voice that sings "missing you" over and over. That's a smart artistic move.

Prince and the Revolution -- "Let's Go Crazy" -- September 29, 1984

I liked a lot of pop music when I was 7, but I didn't get Prince. His songs sort of slid out of my brain as a "thing for grownups," and who could understand grownups? He was short and wore fancy outfits, and that's about all that registered. When I hit puberty, though... yeah. This song is more adult than that, though, and I don't mean sexually, though there is plenty of sex in this song. "You better live now/ Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door." The song is about sex, partying, and death. Also Prince was an astonishing guitarist, along with everything else. It's not one of my favorite Prince songs, because the lyrics are pretty depressing and it's super loud, but it's still great.

Stevie Wonder -- "I Just Called To Say I Love You" -- October 13, 1984

I never really listened to the background beep-de-boops in this song before. I've wondered before why this song, with its simple lyrics and melody, didn't bore me. It's the beep-de-boops. They, along with Stevie Wonder's perfect delivery, make this song musically complex. And the simple lyrics, with the more complex musical counterpoints, absolutely work. It helps that this is the kind of thing people really do.

Billy Ocean -- "Caribbean Queen" -- November 3, 1984

That heavy breathing after the line "I get so excited just from her perfume" is unfortunate. Otherwise, it's a song about how he met this "Caribbean Queen" on vacation and she "tamed" him so he's no longer looking for "love on the run." Sure, why not. I'd like a little more story to it, but that's me. It's got a good beat though, and is enjoyable enough as-is.

Wham! -- "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" -- November 17, 1984

I just realized I don't like this song. The beat and hook are sort of irresistible, and as a dance song the music absolutely works. But there's too much nostalgia about stuff that George Michael actually wasn't old enough to be nostalgic about. He was only 21 at the time, born in 1963, and yet he was singing about Doris Day. You can homage anything at any age, but... meh. And speaking of age, it's kind of a childish song and George Michael's voice was always more on the mature end, even if he was young at the time. For me, it hits a jarring note.

Daryl Hall & John Oates -- "Out of Touch" -- December 8, 1984

The beginning makes it sound like this is gonna be a relatively hard rock song, but that ends after a pretty short time. It's still really loud, with huge drums, and Hall pretty much shouts the song. Hall & Oates were great when they stripped stuff down. All this noise doesn't work for them. There are neat parts when all the noise suddenly stops and there's total silence, but then it goes right back to the rather uninteresting loudness. Not for me.

Madonna -- "Like A Virgin" -- December 22, 1984

And so it begins. Backstory: Madonna went to the same high school as my mother. She was friends (maybe more? he won't talk) with one of my uncles. When my grandmother saw the Like A Virgin album on the rack at the store, she said, "I'm so glad [he] didn't marry that girl." When my mother told me that, my reaction was "Are you kidding? We'd be rich!" But my family cares about PhDs and not money. My uncle ran wild in high school, but eventually became a successful career diplomat (and stopped being a jackass) after the woman he was in love with told him he'd better shape up or else. Also he looks a lot like Guy Ritchie, so that was weird for a while. I'd be in the grocery store and for a second think, "Why's my uncle on The Enquirer with Madonna?"

So anyway, the song. The way Madonna sang it in later iterations, I like it. I can't stand the version that became a #1 hit. The Betty Boop voice is just ugh. I love a lot of Madonna's music, and she would be something of an inspiration to me in later days, with her unapologetic persona as a woman who liked and wanted sex -- and enjoyed shocking the censorious -- but I was 8 at the time. I didn't get any of it, I just knew she sounded squeaky in this song and it bugged me.

BEST OF 1984: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. WORST OF 1984: "Hello" by Lionel Richie

#billboard number ones

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princepestilence · 3 years

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NYR: July in review.

Post-July horoscope: “now my troubles are going to have troubles with me.”

Huge month, although kind of blurred into the last one and I find it hard to remember what happened when, exactly. It’s been over a month in lockdown and it’s at least one more month to go, so every day kind of bleeds into every other. There’s been a lot happening, though. A lot of it good, some of it sad, some of it stressful. In the last month:

started new job. I’m just over two weeks into it and I’m finding my stride. It’s actually working out pretty great, I like my coworkers, I’m good at it and learning a lot, and it’s the kind of thing I can see myself doing sort of indefinitely. I don’t think it’s going to be more than I can manage, although I am getting so tired by the end of the week. Love getting paid a decent wage, though. Feel like the university system could learn something from that.

submitted a short story for publication. I won’t hear back until the end of the month, but I’m proud that I sent something in. I think there’s a decent chance they’ll accept it, but we’ll see. Either way, I’m pretty stoked that I took a swing at it. Especially given how hard it was to actually get done in the last couple of months, with everything else going on. Stressed out of my mind half the time.

reading a lot. I’ve been reading pretty regularly. Even treated myself to a couple of new books, which I’ve been keen to read for quite a while.

finished short courses. There’s about one and a half left to go, but two of them are ready to launch, which is exciting.

been social. It’s kind of exhausting after a week of working from home going back onto technology to be social with friends, but it’s been good to keep in touch with people. Keen to not have to do it over phone or zoom, though. Looking forward to going to a cafe or something.

regular walks. I’ve tried to go out for a nice walk every day after work, which has been good for me. It’s been hard at points because of lockdown, and also weather and exhaustion, but it feels good to do and I’d like to find some nice walking tracks other than what I’ve been doing lately.

In August, I will:

keep reading. Really been enjoying it and it’s been a good hobby for decompressing after work or before bed. It’s funny how much more excited and able I am to read now that my thesis is on hold. While my thesis is over my head, it feels like any reading that isn’t for my thesis is frivolous and wasting time, and any reading for my thesis is high pressure because I need to be switched on and ready to take important notes.

possibly apply for a writing festival? There’s a queer festival kicking off locally in the next couple of months and they’re looking for people to be involved. I’ve reached out to them with a few questions, and will probably decide to apply or not this week. Possibly it’ll be better to wait until next year when I’ve got more publications etc. to my name, since that’s what they seem primarily to be looking for.

finish remaining short courses. Working full-time has really delayed this but I think it should be very doable for this month as a goal. One is really almost done already, and the other should be pretty light as far as work, just a bit time-consuming to work through the recorded content.

research potential submission sites. There’s a handful I know of but I haven’t kept up with anything because I wasn’t seriously considering it. I feel like I really should tune in properly now and start prepping. There’s one in particular I already know I’m going to apply to with maybe some poetry soon, but I’d really like to make a habit of it. Got to get my name and work out there.

do nice things for me. I’m not sure what yet, but there’s a slowly forming list of nice things I’d like. Replacing my old, truly dead pair of Docs. New clothes. New nail polish? Bath bombs. Books I want. Massages. Day trips to the city. Put aside some time to play games I like. Maybe get some new games. Perfume and cologne. I think nearly all these things won’t be doable until after lockdown ends, and maybe longer, but some of them I can get every now and then, and that’s something I’m going to do more.

half an hour for tidying. As of tomorrow, we’re both working full-time, and that’s going to be deeply tiring for us both, I imagine. I’m thinking the way to keep on top of things is picking a room to focus on for half an hour in the evening, so I’m going to try that this month coming and see how it goes.

take it easy. Not actually easy for a high-strung chronic overachiever with no idea how to relax, but I’m trying. I find it hard to accept I can’t do everything, all of the time, and it would be good for me to actually do nothing more often without trying to maximise my use of time. Got to stay as sane as possible, or it’ll all be for nothing anyway.

#2021 resolutions

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awhiskeyriver · 4 years

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PSST AMELIA (i have hit the level of comfort where i feel i can scream at you, oop) TELL ME UR BETTY THOUGHTS.... also me too, i really wanna write stories based of Taylor's songs all the time. there's a whole subset of tumblr ask game called like, taylor universes, where we personify songs and on God it's my favorite (i wish i had more swifties in my ranks or i'd host one)

LOL, you can always scream at me! Oh man, that sounds seriously so fun! I would love to personify one of her (or all of her, lol) songs and turn them into stories. She has such a vivid way of writing music it begs to be seen in story form, lol.

Okay so....you may regret asking me for my Folklore thoughts, LOL. This is long and it might make absolutely no sense to anyone other than me but I hope that’s not the case!

Obviously **I know this isn’t true and wasn’t Taylor’s point at all** I’m just a writer and things spin out of control in my head and...yeah...basically this is how I’ve managed to link (almost) all of the songs in Folklore together into one story line of James/Betty/August.

The story begins with in the song Betty, towards the end of Junior year, at the prom.

//I know where it all went wrong, your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym. I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that. Plus, I saw you dance with him.//

I think James has anxiety of some sort [more to come on that later] and in my mind, Betty is more charismatic, maybe even casually popular not in the core group of popular girls but very well-liked and known around the school. Editor of the school paper, ran for student president, etc. Meanwhile James is more low-key, out of the limelight, and the idea of being in such a large crowd dancing gave him anxiety which is why he said no. Seeing her dancing with someone else (even innocently), made him feel worse about himself and his insecurities as well as a little mad at her for not standing with him, but choosing to go dance with friends [‘him’] instead.

So, he left the dance early [walking home on broken cobblestones] when August sees him [when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intention. She said, James get in let’s drive. Those days turned into nights. Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.]

Personally, I think James only officially cheated on Betty once. The night of the dance with August. August is a more overtly popular; more obvious beauty that is noticed by many boys, maybe a cheerleader, etc. Many people think this popularity instantly equates with happiness, but she’s not happy, actually suffers from self esteem issues and the pressure to conform [Mirrorball: I can change everything about me to fit in]. But James doesn’t ‘oogle’ her or treat her the way typical guys she dates or fucks do, so she’s attracted to him. They kind of bring out this excitement in each other that Betty and the other guys in August’s life don’t. [Mirrorball: I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight. I’ll get you out on the floor- August can pull James out of his shell in ways that Betty can’t]. This is maybe a more “obvious” song link to make, but also how in Mirrorball it’s talked about “spinning in my highest heels love, shining just for you.” And in Cardigan, when Betty is describing August “high heels on cobblestones.”

ANYWAYS. James feels mad guilty about what happened between August and him, swears her to secrecy, but the weight of the secret weighs on him. At the end of the year, he tells Betty he thinks they should take a break over the summer, so they do. August and James continue to talk, first through platforms like Instagram, commenting on a photo or story, then it turns into constant talking, to texting, to hanging out and inevitably having more sex. For James, it’s a vice of sorts. He feels guilty, he wants to forget that feeling meanwhile August is starting to develop Feelings™. [entire song of August, obviously, but lines like “you were never mine.// your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it. ] To her, James is also developing feelings for her and wants to be with her. [I remember thinking I had you. Wanting was enough, for me it was enough.] But as the summer starts to end, things become more squirrely between the two of them, and the feeling of being James’ side piece starts to sink in more, and the more she begins to lose him, the more desperate she is to hold onto him. [August: cancel plans just in case you call and say meet me behind the mall. Illicit Affairs: Leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him so you leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist.// A drug that only worked the first few hundred times.// what started in beautiful rooms ends in meeting in parking lots.]

It comes to a head at the end of (the month of) August, as summer is ending and the new school year is approaching when James tells August he wants to get back together with Betty and what happened between them meant nothing to him. [Betty: Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.] August is rightfully hurt, embarrassed and angry [Illicit Affairs: Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else.// And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself a million little times. Peace: All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret. Mirrorball: When I break it’s in a million pieces.]

So, senior year begins. Betty and James gets back together. August goes back to the way she was previous to her summer with James, but truly she is broken. Can’t even look at him. The guilt and stress of August is still eating at James, but he’s trying to forge ahead with Betty and the two of them grow stronger and closer throughout the first part of the school year. August’s friend, Inez, obviously notices her downfall, but August continues to allude to “the guy she met over the summer” without saying names. One drunken night, she slips and says James, and Inez being the gossip she is is like w h a t. [Peace: Your integrity makes me seem small.// I talk with shit with my friends, it’s like I’m wasting your honor.// And you know that I’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild, give you a child.// Give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me.] August forgets about the conversation [she was drunk], but Inez doesn’t and can’t help herself but go to Betty and tell the rumor she heard about James fucking August. Betty, being a newspaper editor, doesn’t believe her without gathering up facts. But as she’s piecing things together, Inez’s story begins to make sense. She confronts James about it, who reluctantly admits to everything.

Betty, of course is devastated and heartbroken. The boy she trusted the most, her first love, wasn’t at all who she thought he was. [Cardigan: you drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.] And the fact that he didn’t just come clean and tell her after the first time, but continued to cover it up (and keep seeing August) is unforgivable. [Cardigan: tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy--Betty is ready to grow up, think about college, think about life, meanwhile James is clinging to the excuse that he is ‘only seventeen’ [(Betty) Would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?], refusing to grow up and own his mistakes.

Betty breaks things off with James. James hates August thinking she did it on purpose. Betty hates them both. August kind of does too.

[August- Mad Woman: Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy and when you say I get angry, I get more angry.]

[Betty- Cardigan: A friend to all is a friend to none, chase two girls lose the one.//When you are young they assume you know nothing.]

After months of being broken up, James is still not over Betty and tries one last time to win her back at her graduation party before she leaves for college. [Betty, I’m here on your doorstep and I planned it out for weeks now but it’s finally sinking in. Betty right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when I see your face again. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you. So I showed up at your party]. The end of the song, where he’s talking about kissing in her car again, etc is him building their makeup up in his mind, psyching himself up for confronting her because he thinks it will all pay off.

Betty is shocked to see him, as is everyone else at the party, they’d become something of a spectacle, she brings him outside in the garden to talk in privacy without everyone interjecting or staring. Jame’s apology comes in ‘This is me trying’ where he’s trying to explain his actions more logically than placing blame on everyone and everything else, from Betty. [I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m here in your doorway. // They told me all of my cages were mental (the fact that he has anxiety, etc) so I got wasted like all my potential//pouring my heart out to a stranger, but I didn’t pour the whiskey (his and August’s first encounter/cheating incident after Prom). But “this is him trying, at least he’s trying...it’s hard to be at a party when [he] feels like an open wound” and quite honestly, “it’s hard [for him] to be anything these days when all [he] wants is [Betty]. It’s a great apology, he wears his heart on his sleeve, but Betty doesn’t want to fix things between him, she wants to move on. It was too difficult for her to get over him once, she can’t open herself up to trusting him again. [Cardigan: I knew you’d linger like a tattooed kiss, I knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs.// I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired, and you’d be standing in my front porch light.]

Betty leaves for college.

A few years away in college has caused some healing for Betty and some insight into life outside of her small town and high school boyfriend [The One: If you never bleed you’re never going to grow, but it’s alright now]. But when she’s talking with her mom and something comes up about James, thoughts and feeling she hasn’t felt in years come racing back. She can’t help but wonder how things might’ve turned out if things didn’t end how they did because as much as she hates to admit it, she’ll always love James in some way. [We were something, don’t you think so?// if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.// it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one.// I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different (if he hadn’t slept with August) would everything be different today?.// You know the greatest films of all time were never made.] [My Tears Ricochet: And I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want just not home. And you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.]

***Now, things get a little more dicey here not as tight, lol but bear with me***

Betty comes home after graduation from college and runs into James. They’re cordial and nice and when James asks if they can get dinner and catch up, Betty agrees. They have a good evening, reconnect a little, but when they go riding and drive to some familiar places from their childhood, past hard conversations re-arise. It brings a lot of unwelcomed emotions back up in Betty, and she realizes it’s harder than she thought it would be to forgive James. [The One: the greatest films of all time were never made. Exile: I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.] Meanwhile, James just wants to forgive and forget the past, after all, they were kids, only seventeen. His hurt comes from the fact that after he tried to patch things up after graduation, not only did Betty dismiss him and leave, but she never reached out or spoke to him again. [Exile: It took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it. Holding all this love out here in the hall.] He came to the front porch/door to try and fix things with her, and she “left out the side door.”

Betty [My Tears Ricochet: Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you, til my dying day. // And I still talk to you (while I’m screaming at the sky) and when you can’t sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)// Hoax: My twisted knife, my sleepless night, my winless fight this has frozen my ground.]

Hoax is where things come to a head with Betty and James. [Stood on the cliffside screaming, “Give me a reason. Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. // You knew it still hurts underneath my scars, from when they pulled me apart. But what you did was just dark.]

Mad Woman continues as August finds out that Betty and James get back together, and cannot get over it. She never got over James either. Only her sadness turns to anger. [Now I breathe flames each time I talk. // They say “move on” but you know I won’t.// It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.]

Invisible String comes when Betty and James are in a stable, happy place in their relationship again. Possibly engaged for marriage. [Time, mystical time, cutting me open then healing me fine.// Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.// Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.]

And, I like to think that August did eventually move on and found someone who appreciates her and truly loves her, isn’t just using her for revenge, or because she’s hot, or because they’re trying to forget their own problems. But someone who actually values her for herself. (Invisible String: Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart. Now I send their babies presents.)

AGAIN, this is obviously just my own theory/fun. Not meant to be taken seriously. Hope you enjoyed!

#archersandsunsets #i am exhausted now lmao #folklore #t swift #song analysis #writing

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jungkooks-left-tiddie · 4 years

Text

In Conclusion; it do be like that sometimes.

You can Find the Wattpad version here :))

Warnings: Mentions of an arranged marriage, Alcohol use, A nosey man, People constantly misgendering others, Inability to understand personal boundaries.

Words: 4.7k, (An apology for posting this so late)

Hadi

August 28th, 2020; 3:17 pm

Beirut, Lebanon.

"Golfing? Seriously?" To say that Hadi was having a bad day was the understatement of the century. She overestimated her ability to wake up on time, which then led to her running around the house, trying to finish some pending work, when she got the memo that her father wanted her to join him at an investor's private golf club.

"Yes, and you best hope I see you here in the next 30 minutes," Her father threatened. Hadi shook her head.

"I don't have any choice do I?" She cut the call, tossing her phone on her bed and rummaged through the wardrobe to try and find the right outfit. Pulling out a rather plain beige checkered sweater, she scrunched her nose in disgust. Golf outfits were so incredibly plain; I mean, where was the ✨✨pizzazz✨✨?

"Ugh, boring-ass outfits, no fashion sense at all," She was about to apply her perfume and concealer, but she decided against it. God knows how her father and the other men would react.

Double checking her belongings again, she fed her kitten and played with him for a while. Glancing at her watch again she sighed loudly. Blu-- her kitten-- as if he could sense her reluctance meowed loudly and purred; almost as if he was telling her to not go.

"I know sweetie, I don't want to go either. But I have to," Hadi picked up Blu and put him back in his small bed. "Behave well for me, ok?" Blu just meowed in response.

Hadi grabbed her keys and entered the elevator. She made her way to the building's parking lot and buckled herself up, groaning when her phone-- that was connected to the car's bluetooth-- rang loudly.

"Yes, Hassan?" She sighed audibly. Her day was bad enough already, and she didn't need another person who made it worse.

"My man Hadi!" She winced at the use of the incorrect pronoun. "You still up for drinks tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Hassan. I have to attend to some incomplete work today," Hadi lied. Was she sorry about it? Not at all! Any time away from people was worth lying for.

"Aw! Well, its your loss," She rolled her eyes, "Everyone's going to be there, you sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sure, Hassan." She cut the call, not particularly in the mood to talk to him for longer.

Hadi was not even 20 minutes into her drive when she got a notification about a meeting she was supposed to attend in a few hours. She was kidding about having to attend a meeting, but since when did things go her way anyways? And usually she would groan at the mere mention of a meeting, but this time, Hadi was actually excited for it. I know, I can't believe it either.

Taking a sharp turn, Hadi saw the isolated roads ahead of her and she suspected that she was nearing the location her father had given her.

"This isn't that far away from home," She noted, pausing for a moment and drove her car to the parking lot. The security, as if knowing who Hadi was, immediately let her in.

Hadi parked in the designated place and went to the reception.

"Hi sir, how may I help you?" The receptionist looked up from her computer screen with a polite smile.

"I was wondering where I could find Mr Kanoo?" The gut feeling of being extremely out of place never left her.

"Oh, Mr Kanoo and his daughter are waiting for you in course number 17," She smiled and gestured the way to the course. Hadi gave her a swift smile and began walking; only to pause suddenly.

"Actually I was wondering if I could you could do me a favour," She walked to the receptionist's desk yet again.

"Of course, sir."

"I know this sounds really odd," Hadi gave a sheepish smile, "But could you get me a locker in the men's dressing room? I have to attend a meeting after this and I have no time to change," She explained, handing out her card for them to swipe. To her surprise the receptionist just smiled and pushed the card back towards him.

"Mr Kanoo will be taking care of all your expenses," She smiled and showed Hadi the way to the locker rooms.

Hadi quickly ran back out, grabbed the suit hanger from her car and hurried towards the direction of the locker room. Twisting the knob to its combination, she gently folded her suit so that it won't catch any wrinkles, put it inside and twisted the knob again.

A quick glance at her watch told her that if she didn't start running, she'd be executed.There was absolutely no way she would make it in one piece if she ran, so she opted for walking briskly instead, following the arrows that made it easier to navigate the huge club.

Hadi sat down on one of the benches, crossing her long legs. She spotted her father, Mr Kanoo and a woman who seemed like his daughter from a distance and frowned.

'Why's she here?' Usually, Hadi wouldn't worry about petty things like someone's daughter playing golf, but judging by the way Mr Kanoo's daughter was laughing at something that Hadi's father said, she was concerned.

Hadi's father never cracked jokes. Heck, he wasn't even remotely funny. Convinced she was just being paranoid, she consulted the council of wise turtles.

Another quick look at her father told her that he was still in a deep conversation with the other man. So she did what she always does best: Hadi scrolled through her social media to see what was up.

She quickly switched her phone off when she heard the voices of approaching footsteps and loud laughter.

"Hadi my boy! It's absolutely wonderful to see you again!" Hadi stood up.

"I could say the same thing, mr Kanoo," She gave a curt smile and brought her hand out to shake the older man's, hoping she looked polite enough.

"Sit down, sit down!" Mr Kanoo gestured one of the waiters to come over, "Right, take down the order," He looked at Hadi and her father.

"Any preferences?"

"Yes," Hadi turned towards the waiter, "I'd like a Mai Tai and a grilled lentil panini," Excited at the prospect of proper food, Hadi wondered that maybe coming here wasn't a bad decision after all and only zoned back in when she heard the waiter coming back with his order.

'Damn, good food and fast delivery? I need to come to this place often.' She found herself thinking as she took a bite of her panini, almost moaning at its exquisite taste.

She drowned out the loud voices of her father and the other man, who now began talking about investments and shares.

"So tell me Hadi," Mr Kanoo turned to him with a devious smile and Hadi knew, that no matter what question she was asked, she had to be careful while answering.

"This new project your father was telling me about," He swirled his glass, "May I know the profit margin that you're expecting?" Hadi sipped her drink.

"I guess father forgot to mention that this was a non-profit project," She avoided her father's glance, "It is meant to provide for children who are in need of food and shelter," Mr Kanoo held a contemplating gaze.

"And say, how do you plan on funding the project in the future?" All of a sudden, all eyes on the table were on her.

"Well," Hadi sipped her drink yet again, "We've set up a trust fund for starters," She set her almost-empty glass down, "And the final details for the project will be discussed today," She smiled at the older man again,

"But it's the generous businessmen like you who really make a difference," A BIG LIE. While Ahmed Kanoo did give away money for charity often, Hadi couldn't really say the same for other businessmen and their companies. She just hoped that Mr Kanoo would buy her compliments and agree to fund this project alongside her.

And once she saw the satisfied look that Mr Kanoo now wore, Hadi finished up the delicious panini and her drink.

"Do we have a deal then?" Her father prompted, setting his glass of scotch down and looking expectantly at Mr Kanoo.

"I believe we do!" They laughed and shook hands, which-- if Hadi's mental guide for corporate body language was right, meant that they had another ulterior move. There was no way in hell that they would laugh if they weren't the closest of friends (in this case, they really were not).

"So Hadi, when are you planning on settling down?" Hadi shifted uncomfortably.

'Well, Fuck. Time to dissolve.' Hadi was ready to yeet herself off a cliff.

"S-settle down..?" Of course Hadi knew what they meant by 'settle down', she just didn't know how to tell them that she was in fact, ✨✨gay✨✨.

"About time, don't you think? The company needs an heir, and judging by your success, I don't think it would be hard to find you a good wife," Hadi gave a polite smile, and laughed lightly, the kind of laugh that oozed discomfort. She stopped laughing after her father gave her a pointed look.

"W-wait you're serious?" Was it too late to run away? This has to be the worst thing her father has done after supplying her mom with his sperm, (which meant she had to be born), and assuming her gender and sexuality.

Hadi's head was spinning. She had no idea what her father and that other dude were planning, but whatever it was, it didn't seem too good.

"Of course daddy's serious," Hadi stiffened at the sudden contact of-- was it an arm?-- with her thigh, "And of course, he was referring to me," Ok, this lady was beginning to get on Hadi's nerves. She was silent the whole time, why open her mouth now? And what exactly did she want from Hadi?

"Excuse me?" The lady continued looking at Hadi in a predatory way, "What exactly do you mean?" She just wanted answers, goddamnit!

"Daddy always got me what I wanted," She drawled, leaning in towards Hadi's stiff body, "And when I told him that I wanted you; well, of course he complied!" The creepy lady whispered in his ear.

To anybody else, it would've looked like they were two best friends who were sharing secrets. And perhaps for that very reason Mr Kanoo and Hadi's father had assumed something else out of a situation that was now excruciating for Hadi to continue pretending that she was ok with.

"We should leave them to talk amongst themselves," Hadi whipped her head and looked at her father with pleading eyes. When it was clear he wasn't going to do anything, she had to take matters into her own hands.

"NO!" The chair on which she was sitting on scraped loudly against the rough asphalt of the ground.

"I mean," Hadi cleared her throat as her father and Mr Kanoo's scrutinising gaze pierced through her, "I have a meeting to attend and I really should get going," She quickly stood up, dusting off the ridiculous sweater she was wearing in the name of golf.

"I hope you don't mind me leaving so suddenly," Hadi smiled and tried to use all the charm she could, hoping that they fall for it.

"Of course, of course!" Mr Kanoo laughed heartily, "You have a company to run, I understand," She shook hands with the older man one more time and briskly walked, (it was more of a run, really), back to the locker room and changed out of her atrocious outfit in record time, from where she made her way to the parking lot again and drove out of this club as fast as the speed limit would let her.

She breathed out out in relief-- a breath she didn't even know she was holding-- as she slowly reached the familiar traffic in the main road. The experience at the golf club was something she never thought she'd live and she vowed never to go back to that place again; which was a shame because the food was amazing.

Hadi sighed, what would she have done if the meeting for discussing the project wasn't scheduled today? She shook her head and dismissed those thoughts. Groaning again, she leaned against the steering wheel when it was evident that this traffic was not going to ease up anytime soon.

This is exactly why she never left home.

It took Hadi almost an hour and a half for her to finally reach her office. If she hadn't left the club at the time she did, she'd probably have missed her meeting.

Hadi entered the lobby, greeting the workers as she made her way to the meeting room. This project was something she needed to do. This was singlehandedly, the most important project that Hadi has worked on, and she wondered if there was something that could top its importance.

"Chairman sir! you're here!" Hadi smiled and took her seat at the far end of the room and picked up one of the files lying on the table.

She read over every detail with outmost precision, being careful not to miss even the tiniest of details.

"I think we should tweak up the decor a bit," Everyone in the room analysed the papers that lay spread on the conference table.

"You know, make it a little more homely," Hadi glanced at the interior designers she'd hired for this project, looking for their approval.

"I suppose we could stray from the whole 'high society' vibe we had going on," At their approval, Hadi breathed a sigh of relief.

The next hour was spent on finalising the interior of the shelter, to make it as welcoming as possible. Every small thing, from the colour of the lights, to the accessibility of the furniture was addressed.

Eventually came the time for the the finance department to propose a solution for the funding issue; and the CFO, Khalid Yusuf and his team did not disappoint.

"We thought of something like this," He looked at Hadi and brought the plans, "There are lots of investors who've given the go, right?" Hadi nodded and Khalid continued, "So we can make use of the trust fund we set up, and also hold fundraisers and donations," Hadi was smiling now.

"I like that idea. We should hold an event once every 3 months," She nodded to herself, "And it can be something that people enjoy," The Event management team took this as their cue to formulate ideas.

"Sir, I think we could do something different for every fundraiser we hold," A meek voice suggested from the back of the room, going silent when their superior was glaring at them.

"Sorry sir, I told him not to interrupt but--"

"No," Hadi raised her palm to stop the employee from glaring at the poor intern, who now looked terrified.

"Go on," She urged the intern to continue what they were saying. The intern glanced at their superior once again, and Hadi sighed.

"Ignore them and continue," The intern paled and nodded.

"If we could conduct a different event for each fundraiser, it would not only be more fun, but will also increase participation," The intern grew a little more confident at their boss's nod.

"And increased participation means--"

"--More funds generated." Hadi was impressed. "What do you suggest we do for the first fundraiser then?" The intern looked at her in disbelief.

"Wait you're actually serious?" She frowned, what part of her looked like she was joking?

"Of course I am, why would I joke about this," She looked at the bundle of nerves in front of her. The intern was so happy, his face was almost ready to split in half.

"Thank you so much sir, I promise I won't disappoint!" To everyone's surprise, the intern-- whose name Hadi later learned was Tyrone Booker-- presented an amazing idea that everyone thought was extremely fun to both plan and partake in, and personally speaking, Hadi couldn't wait until this plan was put in action.

Now the usual drill would be to schedule a meeting sometime in the coming weeks, but seeing as they were already behind schedule, Hadi decided it would be more productive if they stayed and finished the discussion today, so she could not only enjoy her vacation, but also that the preparation for the event itself would have more time and they wouldn't have to rush into anything.

"I know you all are probably tired, but I think we may have to spend the night finagling our plans for the fundraiser," Hadi was quick to notice the annoyance that bubbled in the room, "Let's do one thing," She glanced at her watch, "It's 9:30 now, so let's take a break for an hour, to eat or plan, whatever you want, and we'll get back to our discussion at 10:30. Sound's good?" Everyone agreed, although reluctant, they understood that it was either they spent another 3 hours here today, or they had to rush in with all the plans in the last minute.

The heads of department and their respective teams all went to their own places all over the office building. A few in the library, a few down in the lobby and some even went to the rooftop. But everyone in the building, including Hadi herself, had ordered themselves a hot meal that was coming their way too, and perhaps that was what kept them going.

Hadi pondered how she would use her time. She knew she couldn't waste much just thinking about what to do, so she just caught up with some of her friends on social media.

Hadi only stopped texting when she got her food, some good ol' Spicy Ramen. Just the smell of the Ramen itself was enough to brighten anyone's mood and today, she felt her mood instantly lift up one she had a bite of her food.

I'm forgetting something, aren't I?' Hadi paused the intense inhaling of her food and wondered why she suddenly thought she was forgetting something. She eventually attempted to brush it off thinking that she was just being anxious.

Key word: attempted.

Because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she wasn't forgetting anything, a small voice in the back of her head kept telling her to remember. But Hadi could not, for the love of her life, remember what it was that she had forgotten to do, when it suddenly hit her like a truck, she promised her friend Meghana that she'd call her father.

Mentally cursing herself, she texted Meghana and asked her if it went too late for her to call Meghana's dad. Luckily she wasn't and she talked to Meghana's father, who-- to Hadi's surprise-- wasn't as bad as she thought he would be.

She answered all of his questions like, 'Will there be alcohol,' 'What all are you planning to do,' 'How long is the trip,' and 'Please don't let Meghana do stupid things.' The last one was more of a request, but Hadi complied nonetheless, there was no way Meghana could do such stupid things, right? Unbeknownst to her, she was actually underestimating how much of a chaos that girl really was.

But Meghana's father ended the call stating that he's willing to send Meghana on the trip, so I guess that was a success? Hadi doubted her socialising skills, but they weren't that bad!

After that whole fiasco, Hadi finished up her dessert for the night, and chatted with her (friends? She really didn't know at this point) for some more time,

Only when the team members started coming back in did Hadi realise that she's been chatting with her friends for almost 45 minutes.

They resumed the meeting with a little more vigour compared to when they left an hour ago, and Hadi was happy to see the progress they'd made in the short time they'd been allotted.

"So I thought that maybe going with a little more laid-back, casual style for the venue would be great, seeing that many of our guests are either going to be businessmen or just normal people out there for a good time," Tyrone explained, turning to face the people in front of him,

"The casual vibe will also help the employees and people have a great time in general, and will also lighten up the environment as opposed to a more professional one," Hadi felt that this particular reasoning was weak, but made no comment on it and instead waited for him to continue.

"A causal theme is also beneficial for our company as it boosts the overall company image and the relationship between the employees. Its also a great networking opportunity for people who're looking forward to socialising, and in fact, I would say that the whole atmosphere promotes creativity and improves motivation,"

"And lastly," Tyrone smiled sheepishly, "Although I feel like this is out of my place to say this, the environment is especially great if you have a lot of pent up stress and you're looking for a way to release it. No offence to anyone here, but some employees could really use the stress relief; and I am not even talking about our main event, I feel like the overall mood is very uplifting," He concluded, looking at Hadi for confirmation.

"I think the casual theme world be a great idea," Hadi deduced, the reason-- although it was presented as a lengthy one-- was very simple. People needed to enjoy what they payed the money for.

"And the main event is also very fitting for this theme, in my opinion." Elissa-- one of the interior designers she'd hired-- remarked.

"I agree, you can't have a bowling alley with a professional theme," Yazra, the head of the Marketing team added.

As the majority of people agreed with the casual theme, they decided that it would be the final theme. It took them another 3 hours to finalise the venue, the food and most importantly, the cost of entry. But finally, they were done!

Hadi was so tired, she could literally fall asleep on the conference table. But unfortunately, she didn't have that privilege. She thanked everyone for their immense help, time and contribution and eventually drove back home.

The streets, to her bad luck were filled with heavy traffic and Hadi was almost ready to cry. This day had already tested her patience and will to live enough; so why on Earth was this day just getting worse at it progressed? She hoped--prayed even-- that Blu did not trash the entire house by the time she got back. She was in no way, mentally (or physically) capable of dealing with his destructive tendencies.

'Finally' Hadi thought as the traffic started to clear out and she could drive back to her apartment and s l e e p. The feel of her bed and the comfort it brought was so close, Hadi could f e e l it in her bones.

15 more minutes. Just 15 more minutes and she'd be in the comfort of her home, with the warmth of her duvet and her smol kitten.

She entered the building with a newfound determination, greeting the security who was on his night-shift, and then made her way to the elevator and went up to the 25th floor; her floor. Technically she was the only habitant of the apartment of that floor, so there really was no harm in calling it 'her' floor.

Hadi realised just how tired she was after she punched in the passcode to her flat and swiftly made her way inside. She barely had the energy to move, let alone change her clothes, but she managed to gather all the energy she could and changed into her night clothes. A quick check on her cat told her that Blu-- like her-- was getting ready for bedtime, curling his tiny body in the small bed that Hadi got for him; and Hadi was overjoyed to find out that Blu hadn't trashed anything today. She guessed that even the most destructive of animals get tired of breaking stuff every once in a while.

Without any other distractions, Hadi plopped on her bed and drifted to sleep as soon as her face hit the pillow.

And so she slept, without a care in the world, because starting tomorrow, she was on vacation; and this time, she will make sure that she enjoys every single minute of it.

______________

A/N:

So,,,,, uhm,,,,, *shuffles and looks at cue cards* *Ducks under the table because of the rotten tomatoes being thrown*

I know I was supposed to post this earlier but I honestly have no excuses this time,,, I was suddenly hit with writers block and I was trying so hard to finish this piece, but it was so hard because I know literally nothing about the corporate world or how its run for that matter. I managed to evade it in the first chapter but I needed that info this time,,,,

So a big thanks and shoutout to my mom for sitting wit me and explaining business terms and answering my useless questions lmao. I hope you enjoyed this, and also let me take the time to remind you to be nice, and USE THE PREFERRED PRONOUNS OF PEOPLE WHO ASK YOU TO USE THEM. Unless they've told you otherwise,,,,

Anyways, I promise the next chapter will be up sooner than this one,,,

Signing off like always,,

Meg��️.

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explosionshark · 4 years

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Hey! Big fan of your writing. :) For the writing prompts, could I request #3 for Chloe Price and Victoria Chase?

hi i’m so sorry it took me a month to do this! thank you for the prompt! i think this is my first chaseprice. originally this was going to be sad, but i didn’t feel like bumming anyone (including me) out tonight so instead it got, uhhh, vaguely smutty.

3. “It’s three in the morning.”

“It’s August 17th. Grass is green. That sleeve is way more trailer trash than badass punk rocker.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, were we not just reciting a list of the obvious at each other?”

“Fuck, Victoria, just get in the car before I change my mind,” Chloe practically growls, leaning across the cab to throw the passenger side door open in invitation.

“Why would I do that?” Victoria asks, but doesn’t stop, forcing Chloe to keep creeping down the street in her truck with the door open, like some kind of stranger danger-ass creep.

“Because it’s three in the morning and you’re walking down the street alone at night by yourself, like an idiot,” Chloe barks. She’s trying to do the right thing, trying to be like… all conscientious and shit. It hardly feels worth it, when once again, Victoria Chase finds a way to make her feel like a totally useless idiot the moment she opens her mouth. “Why are you walking down the street alone at night by yourself like an idiot?”

“Why are you stalking me in your truck?” Victoria tosses back. “You know, you’re not doing much for all those awful stereotypes about predatory lesbians, Chloe. What’s next? Going to offer me some candy? What, are you a friend of my mom’s?”

“Your mom and I aren’t friends, she just eats me out when your dad’s not home,” Chloe says and the tension in her shoulders, the sharp sting of humiliation reddening the back of her neck eases when Victoria chokes out a laugh. “Now stop being a bitch and get in the fucking car. It’ll be faster. Put us both out of our misery.”

Victoria actually pauses this time, glancing around the street before eyeing Chloe’s truck with suspicion.

“No one’s gonna see,” Chloe rolls her eyes and leans back into her seat. “Literally everyone smarter than you’s at home in bed right now. So, like, the whole town.”

With a huge sigh, Victoria hauls herself into the truck, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the whole cab. She smells like expensive perfume, peppermint schnapps and wood smoke. She kicks her towering heels off immediately, pulling her stockinged feet up onto the bench and tucking herself into the corner of the cab.

Stockings. She’s wearing stockings under that short skirt, riding up even shorter with the twist of her legs. Stockings, like some kind of sexy old-timey movie star fantasy run amok. Chloe wonders how Victoria Chase finds a way to be 18 and 81 at the same time.

“Whose party?” Chloe asks once she drags her eyes away from Victoria’s legs, pretending she doesn’t see the smirk on Victoria’s face that means she absolutely noticed.

“The Vortex Club’s. Who else?” Victoria asks, running a hand through her hair. It’s shorter now than the last time Chloe saw her, a few months ago. It makes her look older, more mature. It leaves Chloe feeling even more like a stupid teenager, fumbling and uncouth, even though she’s technically older than Victoria.

“Yeah, stupid question,” Chloe mutters. It feels dangerous, just the two of them in Chloe’s truck like this. “Not like you hang out with anyone else.”

“It’s called having standards,” Victoria sniffs. “Maybe if you tried it sometime you wouldn’t be nearly twenty and still getting busted by the cops for smoking pot and blowing up GI Joes with firecrackers behind the Circle K.”

“You heard about that?” Chloe laughs. It’s a little embarrassing, and David had given her absolute hell over it once word got back to him from his little buddies in blue, but Christ, it had been funny.

“About how somehow you’re an adult who has the life of a Toy Story villain and you’re, like, fine with it? Yeah, Chloe. I heard about it.”

“And you think my life would be, what, different? Better? If I just wanted it to be? If I had your standards?” Chloe asks, pulling into the darkest corner of the Blackwell student lot and killing the engine. The cab is dark but for the light streaming in through the back window from streetlamp a few rows over. The night is silent without the rattle of the truck’s old engine. Chloe slithers across the seat like she’s been wanting to do since Victoria got into the truck. Closer, she can read the expression Victoria’s face a bit better – a little expectant, a little disbelieving, like she always seems to be when they’re together like this.

Like she’s halfway between scared and excited and she likes it best right there, between the two.

“I think our lives are what we make them,” Victoria says, voice even and calm, despite the quickening of her breath. Her makeup’s gently faded from the night, except for the lipstick Chloe saw her touching up on the street before she pulled up alongside her. It’s bright red, applied just a little too thick, Victoria a little too drunk to make it perfect. “I think if you want to be successful and you work hard for it, it will happen.”

Chloe wants to lean in and mess it up. She wants to taste it herself, scrape it off Victoria’s bottom lip with her teeth, smear it messily down her chin, her cheek. She wants that lipstick staining the collar of her shirt tomorrow when she wakes up.

But she waits.

“So people who don’t succeed, it’s just their fault for not wanting it enough, huh? For not working hard enough,” Chloe says and it makes her mad, kind of. But it doesn’t make her want Victoria less. Victoria says nothing, just keeps watching Chloe from across the bench, leg still tucked up under her. “Pretty rich girl like you, you would think that. Mommy and Daddy sending you to a fancy private art school. You would think that.”

“I worked hard to be here,” Victoria says.

“Yeah,” Chloe nods. “You and your standards.”

She leans forward, one hand behind Victoria’s head flat on the glass of the window, the other grasping the inside of a thigh, just under her skirt, just over where the stockings end. She applies the gentlest pressure, feels Victoria turn for her, legs falling open for her, hears the breath catch in Victoria’s throat.

Chloe knows an invitation when she sees one. She slides her hand higher.

You wouldn’t know how she was being touched from that perfectly cool look on Victoria’s face. Smug, almost bored. Chloe kind of admires her for it, even though she wants nothing more than to ruin that poise. It’s the challenge, the vaguely adversarial nature of the sex that keeps these encounters, brief and few that though they’ve been, interesting.

It doesn’t take long, really. Chloe’s good enough at this by now and Victoria’s drunk enough to not care that she’s being obvious. Within minutes she’s writhing against the door, shaking and swollen, dripping down Chloe’s wrist and begging to come.

So, of course Chloe pulls away.

Victoria keens, scrabbling desperately at Chloe’s retreating arm, panting and lipstick-smudged and nearly delirious. “Fuck. Fuck. Why’d you stop?”

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t want any handouts, right?” Chloe drawls, and reaches over her shoulder for a fistful of her tanktop. She yanks the shirt up and over her head, liking the sound her necklace makes when it falls against her bare skin. And yeah, technically, this is a tremendously bad idea because they’re in the Blackwell parking lot and there’s security wandering around out there somewhere but, well. Fuck it. Life’s a risk.

“Are you serious right now?” Victoria glares, looking very regal and pissed off for a girl with her skirt hiked up over her hips. All the incandescent rage in the world couldn’t disguise the way her eyes keep drifting down to Chloe’s exposed breasts, though, the way she has to fight to meet Chloe’s eyes when she speaks.

“Well, it wouldn’t have been very fair of me not to give you a chance to earn it,” Chloe shrugs. “But, y’know, most people don’t know this about me but I’ve actually got a pretty fuckin generous spirit and shit. So, like, if you were to ask me nicely, I’m sure I could…”

“Oh fuck this,” Victoria snarls and for a moment Chloe thinks she must have finally pushed too far, that Victoria’s going to fumble her way out of the cab and stalk back to her room.

But instead she launches herself across the cab, shoving Chloe up against the other door so hard and clumsy and fast her elbow bounces hard enough off the steering wheel to make her whole arm go numb. But before she has a chance to complain about that Victoria’s in her lap, grinding against Chloe’s bare stomach while her fingers tug insistently at the metal bars through Chloe’s nipples.

She’s rough and pissed off and neither of them is going to last like this but, well. Victoria’s kind of a perfectionist, control-freak weirdo, right? Chances are she’ll want a few more rounds, to make it perfect.

Chloe’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

dialogue prompts

#life is strange #chaseprice #chloe price #victoria chase #good lord i hope this readmore sticks #prompt fills #the backstory for this WOULD BE #before max shows up #chloe and victoria have probably hooked up a few times but they're like. mean about it #basically my read on chaseprice is #mostly they're just hot jerks who would hook up a lot #and be absolutely terrible to each other ninety percent of the time #but the other ten percent has a tremendous capacity #to be tender #like chloe not letting victoria wander around drunk alone at night #and victoria being frustrated bc she thinks that chloe's better than the life she's living #anyway! we love some class tension in our smut #morphophoneme

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