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crazyinlovewithbucky · 1 year

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“don’t fill your void with me”

“Свою пустоту мною не заполняй”

Pairings: Villain!The Winter Solider!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: this takes place in an alternative universe where Hydra took over the world and the winter soldier killed all Avengers and he became the leader of Hydra and he’s controlling the whole world. He saw you one day and he determined you were his and he made sure of that. making you live very comfortably as his “favorite” mistress and he turns very very soft with you.

Warnings: heavy smut, some fluff (if u squint), villain bucky turns sweet, oral (f receiving), jealousy, dark themes, dark!bucky to soft!bucky, dom bucky, lots of praise + lots of praise in Russian.

This was inspired by Яд by Erika Lundmoen

please read my author note it’s very important!

AU/N: this is only part one and still working on part two. thought I’d make this only one part but it was too long I had to cut it into two parts. I need to remind you that English is not my first language so excuse any misspelling or mispronunciation of any words or any grammatical mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy this dark fantasy I had of Bucky as I was wondering how he would be still a villain. Also, this was heavily inspired by ‘Yad’ (Яд) by Erika Lundmoen, I love this song so much and it always reminds me of Bucky in his Winter solider era. Enjoy loves xx

PART 1.

You sighed before swallowing that last sip of the red wine glass that the air hostess brought you. This was already your 3rd glass. You looked through the window to the dark clouds and the night sky as you kept thinking and wondering how you get here in the first place. It was somewhat a normal Friday late afternoon, you were getting ready for the evening, and your –rich new– friends have prepared for you. They were setting you up with a blind date, they said it’s a very handsome guy who's an heir to a big industrial company. You weren’t amused that much as none of them know your secret or your secret lover.

Then you remembered him, your secret mysterious lover, who’s the reason you’re living this lavish rich lifestyle. You remembered six years ago, on the news, you were watching Captain America getting brutally killed by none other than The Winter Soldier himself. You watched the fall of this new organization of superheroes and agents called “The Avengers” and the new world order seeing light under the hands of The Winter Soldier. Hydra ruled and controlled every country in the world, including the USA. It was three years ago when you saw on the news that every leader and all the rulers of Hydra were killed and it was an inside job. The Winter Solider rebelled and killed every single one of them and he, alone, became the new Hydra leader, recruiting super soldiers and making the biggest army of super soldiers known to man.

A year ago, you were just a normal waitress girl, in a hotel restaurant, minding your own business and working just to make ends meet. You weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth and your upbringing was very normal and somewhat poor. Until one day your boss came and told you there will be a very important diplomatic meeting that’s happening in the hotel and he assigned you and two of your coworkers to wait on the leaders and diplomats. On this same very evening, you saw him for the first time. The Winter Solider. Bucky Barnes. Captain America’s best friend who was brainwashed by Hydra and was under control for decades. He was so charismatic, terrifying, very handsome, and absolutely dangerous. Just like a fallen angel, just like Lucifer himself. You were drawn to him at first glance until he noticed you and made eye contact with you. Your heart skipped a beat then, there was a connection between you both, you were certain of this as at first glance, you saw his face change emotion and he was staring at you.

“барышня, only 5 minutes till landing” You were brought back to reality from that memory train you were on by the sound of the bodyguard on your left. you nodded to him with a smile and fastened your seat belt around your hips.

Looking back at your past now made you wonder if you actually deserve to live this life or not, to go everywhere with a private plane like the one you’re in now. To live in the finest, most luxurious apartment in Brooklyn, to have rich friends and live a rich lifestyle, to attend galas and be the face of many luxury brands, all because of him, all because he liked you the first time he saw you, all because he promised you to make all your wishes and dreams come true only if you became his, all because he wanted his “favorite one” to be separate from the other women and to live like a princess whose all her dreams are granted.

In fact, you didn’t ask for any of this at all, but you loved the idea that he made all of this for you just because he thinks you’re worthy of it. In the end, you were “his favorite”.

The plane landed in the small very private airport near his mansion in Russia. you had your fur coat covering you. At least, you were dressed very fancy for the ball you were going to with your friends to meet your blind date. As you were about to leave your apartment, you were met by Bucky’s super soldiers' bodyguards at the front door of your apartment, telling you that The King wants you now. So you didn’t argue, you nodded and just took your bag and phone and left with them. This was your deal with him, him giving you whatever you want and desire in life, and you being available and there whenever he calls for you or want you. He has the plane ready for you and super soldiers protecting you and going everywhere with you, in case something goes wrong.

The guards guided you into the mansion and into Bucky’s suite which took up the whole second floor of the mansion. You walked with them till you arrived in front of the door of his office then they left you there alone. You knocked slightly.

“входить” his voice was deep and calm, you just felt butterflies in your stomach as you were very anxious and excited to see him, it’s been nearly a month since your last meeting with him and you missed him dearly. You opened the door and entered and as soon as you closed it behind you, he looked up from the pile of papers in front of him, his hair was perfectly combed, and he grew his beard, which was a very new look on him but also a very sexy one. He grinned widely as soon as his eyes met yours. “ahhh моя кукла”. he stood up from behind his desk and you walked closer to him and he moved closer to you too.

He kissed you very deeply and passionately before hugging you tightly, you hugged him back and buried your face in his neck. “Missed you so much, кукла” he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck softly.

“Missed you too, James” you smiled softly and he started to rub your back slightly.

You didn’t actually know how to address him, didn’t know if you should call him sir, king, soldier, Bucky, or James. You never actually asked, but you found James to be just perfect as you felt weirded out to call him sir or king. ‘James’ was good enough based on the relationship you both had, you were not actually lovers or boyfriend and girlfriend to be intimate and call him Bucky and yet you both weren’t platonic or had a strict respectful relationship to call him sir. so ‘James’ did the job perfectly.

At least, he didn’t complain about whatever you call him.

He removed your fur coat slowly and looked at your body and your fancy dress. “You look so beautiful,” he held your hand and spun you around to take a good look at the dress. It was a tall tight dress that hugs your curves perfectly with a very long slit on the left that shows your whole left leg from your upper thigh to your left foot. It was burgundy colored with a black sheer silk attached to it that gives the dress a matte look under lights. “did you get all dolled up for me?” he smirked at you when his eyes left your body and met your eyes.

“Well, umm-,” he leaned back on his office desk and sat on its edge and pulled you to him slowly “you didn’t give me any heads up that we were supposed to meet so I was actually going to a ball party with a bunch of friends” you looked down to your hands playing with his black suit’s blazer, trying to hide the truth that you were going on a blind date.

The thing you didn’t know about Bucky is that he is very good at reading body language and the second you broke eye contact and said that, he knew you were hiding something and that’s not the truth. But he didn’t want to confront you yet about it so he took it slowly. “Oh really?” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your chests now touching and he has a perfect view of your boobs as it’s pushed up from the tight dress. “what kind of a ball party?” he moved his head and start kissing your neck.

“A normal one.” you bit your lower lip as his kisses now moved down to your shoulders and collarbone.

“normal one? what kind of a ball is that exactly?” he chuckled while his right hand moved down slightly and he started rubbing your left butt cheek as his kisses never stopped and his lips moved down to your chest, leaving more kisses.

“Just a normal ball party, James” you sighed, feeling more frustrated as you are getting more turned on by his touching and kisses and you feel yourself getting wetter, you can’t stand wearing your panties anymore, it’s getting more uncomfortable as you are soaked down there.

“A normal ball party where rich people gather around for whatever reason, stuffing their faces with crab cakes and drinking champagne until they’re passed out,” you said with an annoyed tone as you can’t just stand the teasing anymore.

The relationship you had with Bucky was just casual sex every now and then unless that was what you thought it was until 8 months ago, he started to show more feelings, starting saying “I miss you”, “I want you”, “you are beautiful”, “my girl”, “my favorite girl”, “my doll”, “baby girl”, but never the word “love”. He started being more romantic. Taking you on dates, of course, they were secret private dates as he was a known criminal and he shouldn’t be seen in public at all but with his power and money, he can rent or buy any restaurant or place in the world just so you both could enjoy your time and dates together.

He was very gentle with you, protecting you, getting you a big apartment in Brooklyn which was like 3 blocks away from his childhood home, he didn’t mention that at all but you knew it when you went to the Captain America museum and explored the whole room dedicated to Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend.

You learned a lot about him, actually about the old him. Now, he’s just the winter solider, the cold blooded murderer who killed all his superiors and killed the avengers and is now running the Hydra organization and having the biggest super soldiers army in the universe.

But at least, he had a soft spot for you.

He moved his hands to the back of your thighs and lift you up, your legs wrapped quickly around his waist, which was sort of a habit as he loved picking you up like this, like his small girl. he kept looking at you and murmuring I miss yous and you look so beautiful, against your lips while kissing you and walking towards his bedroom, there was only a wall between his office and his bedroom. he opened the door, and his room wasn’t unfamiliar to you but you were just amazed every time by how big and wide it is. The ceiling is so high up and the walls are filled with paintings and mirrors.

He put you on his king-sized bed and you just laid on your back, looking at him. He smirked at you and moved his hands down your dress and took off your panties, freeing your soaked cunt from the now-uncomfortable material. “So, it was just a normal ball party with normal rich friends, huh?” he held your left ankle and pulled it up, and rested it on his shoulder. you nodded and saw him undoing the straps of your heels and taking them off. “Are you sure about that, кукла?” he gave you a very intense look and at that moment you knew that he knows you were hiding something so keeping it hidden won’t do you any good. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” he rubbed your ankle and calf slowly, giving it a simple soft massage.

“I am not lying to you” Your tone was serious. “My friend, Emma, she set me up on a blind date with this guy,” you saw his facial expression get more tense and his hand tightened on your ankle a bit harder. “I mean, no one knows that I’m- umm, that we-… you know, together” Your tone was shaky as you started to get more anxious as his grip hardened on your ankle. “they just thought I’m single and wanted me to have a date so-..”

“So you decided to dress and doll up for a strange man, didn’t you?” he cut you off suddenly as you can see he started to get angry.

“No, they don’t know about us. No one knows. So I’m just playing the part. acting it. That’s it.” you said with a sad tone, breaking eye contact with him and looking up at the ceiling and huffing. this is truly what you felt like. Playing a part in Bucky’s world. Being nothing more than his sex doll and his mistress. You hate the fact that you wanted him and wanted to be with him forever and you just can’t handle living this lifestyle anymore. Yes, it’s a blessing but you didn’t want all of that, you didn’t ask for any of that. You just wanted him.

“Well, this dress is no good anymore. Can I tear it apart?” he put your left leg back again on the bed and pulled your other leg by the ankle and on his shoulder and removed your heels from this one too.

“Why isn’t it good anymore? I think it’s pretty.” you looked at him confused, not knowing what the dress has to do with anything.

“It is pretty but now, for me, it’s what you wore for another man’s eyes and not mine. I hate it now.” he pulled it up to your upper thighs and your legs are now bared to him.

“But what am I going to wear when I leave? Can’t just be wearing my fur coat. It’s freezing outside.” he chuckled darkly at your words and looked at you with a dark smirk on his face.

“As much as it would be so fucking hot of you to not wear anything except for a fur coat, I can get you any other dress that you want,” he grabbed the dress from its slit on your left thigh with his metal hand and ripped it open until the dress was fully ripped from the left side. “anyways, you’re staying for the whole weekend with me, I don’t want you wearing any clothes at all.” he moved up to meet your eyes and he pepper kissed your jawline. “and if you got cold, you can wear my clothes, my wardrobe is all yours, милая” he ripped and removed the dress from your body, leaving you fully naked underneath him.

you moaned slightly as his hands roamed your body, massaging and rubbing your boobs while his tongue is attacking your lips and mouth, kissing your hungrily. You opened your legs more for him, signaling to him where you wanted him the most. he removed himself from on top of you to get undressed. He removed all of his clothes and got on top of you again, kissing you passionately then starting to kiss you all over. Leaving marks and love bites all over your body, showing you who you truly belong.

“ты моя навсегда, куколка” his voice is raspy and deep, he moved his head down and kissed and sucked on your nipples, of course leaving marks and love bites on your boobs too. You were so needy for him and a part of you was glad that he was as much as needy for you as you are of him.

“James, please. I need you so bad. Please fuck me” you whined and opened your legs more for him. he pulled his head up and looked at you with nothing but pure lust in his now dark blue eyes.

“No, baby doll. No fucking. I missed you too much to just fuck you. I’m going to make love to you ‘cause you deserve this, honey. you’ve earned this.” he kissed your lips passionately but you were just startled, confused, and slightly shocked. You kept wondering why he would say such things and do such things. It’s the first time you ever see him being like this to you or talking like this to you. You were sick of these feelings you have for him and he was just toying around with them.

“You make love to someone you love, James. What we have isn’t love” You looked directly into his eyes with a concerned look on your face.

“Maybe you are right,” these words went straight to your heart and smashed it. You had a little hope he would correct you and tell you he loves you. “But tonight, just pretend that we’re in love. act it like you just said you’re acting it and playing a part.” you wondered if toying with your feelings like this was his way to punish you for what you just said about playing a part in your new life. “make me make love to you. make me show you how you’re supposed to be loved. Or at least humor me, принцесса” his mouth never left your face or your body. He couldn’t stop kissing you and leaving marks everywhere on your neck and body. You weren’t sure what his intentions were by what he just said. A little part of you hoped he meant what he was saying.

You felt his cock twitch against your thigh and felt him leaking. You couldn’t hold it any longer and you lift your hips up to meet his. Signaling to him that you need him. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just let me take my time with you first. I missed you too much” He said between breaths and kisses as he’s now moving down, kissing and leaving love bites all over your belly. “missed this belly,” he kissed your belly button. “missed my little ladies,” he grabbed your boobs with his hands as his mouth kept going down to your lower belly.

“but I missed this pretty girl the most.” you could feel his hot breath against your soaked cunt now, gushing more at the new nickname he gave to your pussy. he groaned when he saw you gushing and your slick is wetting the bed underneath you, making a mess everywhere. he looked up at you and you locked eyes with him while he slowly licked a long stripe between your folds, never breaking eye contact. This sight alone had you crying out and shutting your eyes while throwing your head back on the pillows.

Bucky kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud and sucking on it. He was really taking his time, he wasn’t fast or hard. He was simply just eating you out, slowly, gently, like he actually wants to taste you. You were so needy that you wanted more than that. You started pushing your hips more into his face and grinding slowly. “Greedy aren’t we, my little girl?” He got up and wiped his chain from your glistening slick with the back of his hand.

He got on top of you again and pressed his lips against yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you opened your mouth happily for him, licking his tongue and tasting more of yourself. “Do you know what do you taste like?” he broke the kiss but his lips were right above yours. you shook your head slightly and bit your lips. “Like fucking peaches.” he pushed his tongue into your mouth again, kissing and licking it all over. “You taste like fucking peaches, especially your pussy.” you moaned into his mouth “You’re driving me insane, принцесса. Guess peaches are my new favorite fruit”.

He buried his face in your neck, attacking the sensitive skin again with kisses, especially that sweet spot that gets you all turned on and horny. As if you’re not going to lose your mind already from how horny you are. You could feel his tip pushing slightly on your clit and you were just a moaning mess at this point. “Ready for me, love?” he lifted his head and rested his head on your forehead, locking eyes with you.

“Always, Bucky” you whispered, his whole expression changed. his eyes widened a bit at the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth like honey. He hadn’t heard this name in so long, and you say it like this had his heart beating faster, if he wasn’t in love with you before, he believes now he is.

………………………………………………………………..

PART TWO

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Hey can you write a daniel ricciardo x gf reader fanfic based on you're in love by Taylor swift.either that or like sweet nothing by taylor. Js something cute,fluffy and like a quiet domestic love sort of thing

this took me so long and i'm so sorry 😭 I'm not a swiftie and when i listened to these songs/googled the lyrics, I really couldn't find a way to write something fluffy. Soooo, i wrote this instead (still includes taylor swift songs) (also, pls don't judge me for the title of this - i was tryina find a taylor lyric that felt the vibe of this)

The second part

Drive Out Of The City, Away From The Crowds

Road tripping means Danny's singing + taylor concert

Daniel was a singer. He wasn't a talented one, but he didn't care. He sang his heart out and he loved it. His girlfriend loved it too. Actually, there weren't much things better than hearing Danny belt out a tune. He wore a smile on his face as he recited the lyrics with ease.

It didn't matter where they were; if there was music playing, Daniel would sing along. He didn't care who was around; if he knew the lyrics he would sing along.

Y/N's camera roll seemed to be just videos of Daniel singing. Most of them had him moving his head from side to side as he sang at her. Damn, she was so in love with him.

Daniel loved singing at her when they were doing domestic things, cooking or cleaning, or even when they were in the bath together.

You know, the kind of bath were you have candles lit and so many bubbles that you couldn't see the water beneath. Y/N would have her back pressed against Daniel's toned chest, both of them holding a glass of wine. There was a speaker on the toilet and Daniel sang along in one of his softer voices.

Night like that didn't get much better. Daniel tried to make sure they happened as often as possible. Starting with a home cooked, candle lit dinner, finishing with them in the bed, enjoying each other.

Daniel loved the USA. He loved it so much that he had his own place in Texas. It was a good thing that Y/N loved it, too. They'd spend a lot of summer break out there, escaping and enjoying each others company.

One day, Y/N suggested a road trip across America. This was before Daniel was signed to AlphaTauri, so the couple had all of the time in the world (lets pretend he's not at every race). Daniel jumped at the chance. "Fuck yeah baby!" He shouted and leaned forward to kiss her.

So, they planned a road trip. Starting at Danny's place in Texas, they'd do a three day drive and end up in New York. Their were motel stops planned on their trip, and the two had enough music to listen to something different every day.

The drive was only meant to be twenty six hours, but Daniel and Y/N had plans to stop and see the sights. It was cliché and tourist-y of them, but they didn't care. They were so excited.

Daniel was the designated driver. He was never the passenger princess, never the one not driving. He was the one who got to pick the music. When the drive began, he was just singing softly, but as soon as they were on the highway, things picked up.

Soon Daniel was belting out the songs, singing along to Taylor Swift.

Daniel was a massive Swiftie. He knew most of the lyrics to most of the songs, new and old. When her newest album came out, Daniel freaked out and posted about it on his social media for a full week. Their road trip to New York City just so happened to end with them at one of her concerts.

On the first night, they stopped in a sleazy motel. Daniel paid for the room wearing an inconspicuous hat and sunglasses. That night Y/N and Daniel had a few drinks, watched shitty motel TV and enjoyed each other.

The next day when they set out on the road, Y/N had snacks. Snacks that Daniel's trainer definitely wouldn't have approved of. It was all junk, all shit, with Gatorade to top it off.

As Danny drove, Y/N fed him. They had their first tourist stop on the second day of their trip. When they pulled over, they weren't recognised. It was only once they asked a kind lady there with her teenaged son that they were recognised. It was that teenaged son who gasped and asked 'are you Daniel Ricciardo?'

After that, they set off once again. Daniel and Y/N were both singing together as they drove on, Y/N videoing it as they did. They stopped at the next tourist trap, got another picture and set off again.

The day went on and on like this, and they never got bored. That second night they were in another sleazy motel with a couple of drinks, shitty television and each other. That night they tried to recreate their signature bath, but it was rather difficult in that motel bathroom.

When they set off for their third day of driving, they weren't too far away from New York. Daniel was incredibly excited. They'd booked a fancy hotel and that night they had the concert. "Do you think, if I messaged her, she'd help me to propose?"

Y/N scoffed and lightly smacked his shoulder, which had Daniel protesting.

"Hey, I'm being serious! When I want to propose, do you think I could get the ultimate queen to help?"

"Danny, you do realise you're saying you want to marry me, right?"

His hand moved to her knee. "Of course I know that. And I do. I seriously want to marry you."

"I seriously want to marry you too."

That night they had dinner. Nothing too fancy - they could have a fancy dinner when they were in Monaco. And then it was off to the concert. Daniel had his hand wrapped around Y/N for the entire night, as she shouted the songs along with Taylor Swift herself.

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certifiedcodbabygirl · 3 months

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Alright my turn

I've had a COD oc brewing for a bit and wanna share her (this is my first time making an oc don't kill me)

Call sign: Ducky

History behind call sign: During her early days in the military, her platoonmates noticed she's a bit skittish (lack of sleep) and decided to scare the shit out of her. She let out a short scream that sounded like a loud duck quack and they never let her live it down.

Job: Sniper

Nationality: American

Age: 30

Personality traits: Blunt, slightly chaotic, loyal, caring, "get shit done" type of girl, strong morals, exceptional intelligence, able to temporarily turn off emotions when needed

Closest with: Phillip Graves

Backstory: She grew up in an extremely abusive household. She learned how to be extremely quiet, extreme pattern recognition, and spots movement extremely fast. As soon as she turned 18, she joined the US military as a marine as a means to get out of her household.

Due to being used to constant screaming and berating from her childhood, she has a smoother time adjusting to the shock of basic training than the others did. She's a quick learner and showed impressive marking in just about anything they threw her way. She wanted to be in infantry, but due to the USA military laws, she was unable to do so.

They set her up to train for becoming a sniper and she stayed there since. She managed to get past training without much issue, until she was transferred to another squad and found out her brother was in the same squad. They grew up close (trauma bonding) and had an extremely strong relationship.

On a mission in 2018 (age 24), her entire squad was taken out by IED while driving to their safe house. She was the only one to survive, but came out with shrapnel lodged between her ribs, a shard stabbing into her meniscus, and a fractured wrist.

After a year and a half of physical therapy and continuous training, she was able to get back into the force. In 2021, she met the leader of the Shadow Company, Phillip Graves. Reviewing her file, he offered her a position among his men. After a bit of thought, she took his offer and was with them for a good bit of time. After his supposed death in Las Almas, where she was absent due to being summoned in the US for familial reasons (funeral), she was placed in a temporary force. She has yet to find out he's actually alive.

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tarirose · 1 year

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New Beginnings

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Language, Oral, NSFW 18+

Word Count: 12.6k (I am sorry it’s so long. I was going to do chapters.

Summary: You and Bradley used to date when you were younger. But you left him behind and what you had to start your dream job. Ten years later, you find yourself back home. And Bradley has never let you go and wants you back.

Note: I also might carry this one on, in shorter chapters if people like it. Maybe delve more into seeing what happens between them.

Fightertown, USA was the last place you ever expected to return to. It had been ten years since you were last here. Back then you were a free spirit, young enough to not want to settle down, but old enough to not mess around. A little rebellious, which piqued the interest of a certain man, Bradley Bradshaw. You were both young and fun, took things as they came. And things were great, until the day you suddenly left. Yet here you were, standing in front of the Hard Deck, the last of the sun shining onto your golden colored skin, a short tight black dress hugging your curves. The mid afternoon was already busy and the jukebox was playing 80’s classics. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders before opening the door and walking in.

The Hard Deck was full of the typical locals, girls draping over the shoulders of pilots. It was always a fun atmosphere. One that you had always missed. Whilst you loved your new life in Paris, new beginnings, a part of you always wanted to come back to what you called home.

“Y/N?” A voice coming from behind you said in surprise. You turned around from the bar to see one of your oldest friends. Natasha, standing there with a huge grin on her face. “It can’t be you!”

“Natasha!” You said with a smile. Nat set her drink down on the bar before swooping in to pull you into a hug.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been far too long. I thought you moved to Paris?” Nat questioned, grabbing her drink and signalling to Penny for a beer for you.

“Ten years too long?” You joked, bumping your shoulder into hers.

“Yeah! What are you doing back?”

Penny came over and placed two bottles in front of you, as well as two shots of tequila. “It’s good to see you back, Y/N. Have these on me, for a welcome back.”

“Thanks, Penny. It’s great to see you!” You flashed her a smile before turning your attention back to Nat. “I have a shoot here. If you can even believe that. They wanted one in my hometown. So here I am.” You cringed at even saying that out loud, just the thought of being back made your eyes roll. Grabbing your beer and taking a sip.

“That’s great! You look amazing by the way. In case you haven’t noticed, every guys eyes are laid on you.” Nat winked at you before speaking up again. “I’m so proud of you, I know you took a big risk leaving this place and leaving people behind, but you followed your dream and now look at you!”

You clanked your beer bottle into Nat’s and flashed her a wide grin. “Well, I’m glad to see you, I wasn’t exactly expecting to be back here.”

“I’m glad to see you as well, and I’m so glad you’re here. Everyone has missed you, you know? I’m sure they’ll all be eager to see you again. Where are you staying? Didn’t you sell your old place?” Nat asked as she sat down on one of the bar stools.

“Yeah, but I bought that place on the beach, you know the one? Well, I figured I should at least have somewhere to call my own if I ever plan on staying here.” You replied as you gazed over to Maverick who was chatting to Penny from across the bar.

“So, someone is staying longer than expected, any company?” Nat winked at you, throwing her arms out to any pilot that was around without a girl drooling over them.

Rolling your eyes and taking a shot of tequila, you laughed in response. “Honestly, I’ve missed it. I knew how much my mom loved this place, she always wanted a house on the beach. And well… after losing her, it only felt right to eventually come back. Even if the house I bought does have memories attached to it.” You said quietly.

“Yeah.. I’m sorry about your mom. She was so proud of you. And as for the memories of that house, you know he never shut up about you? For years. He still loves you. Don’t be surprised if he’s here tonight.”

“Can we not talk about that.” You quickly responded to her. Not wanting to remember him.

“Yeah. Anyway, you know you’re always welcome here. It will always be home.” Nat said as she laid her hand on top of yours.

“Thank you, Nat. So what about you? You’re a pilot now?” You asked her with a smile.

“Naval Aviator actually. Lieutenant Trace, call sign Phoenix.” She proudly replied back.

A few hours had past by, the pair of you telling each other stories about your job, things you have missed out on, catching up. A few of your old friends had joined. The Hard Deck was now full of off duty pilots. You and Nat were slammed across the bar, but you were both enjoying every minute of it. As you handed a beer to a handsome pilot who had caught your eye and arm, your eyes averted from the pilot to the door, as a familiar figure came walking in. Sunglasses on, denim jeans and a Hawaiian shirt you’d recognise anywhere. You froze immediately as your eyes found Mav’s. He smiled slightly, with a sad but happy feeling gazing back at you. He knew how Bradley still felt about you.

You wanted to catch up with them both, but right now wasn’t the best time for that. Your eyes wandered back to the familiar figure and brought you back to the present. The sound of the piano playing that song you loved, by a man you had once loved. That distinct male voice singing. It was a voice you would never forget, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you never wanted to hear it again. You tried to ignore it, turning your attention back to the pilot whose hands were currently on your waist. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into you, even through his sunglasses.

Your turned back towards the piano as the song came to an end. Your gaze meeting the eyes of a man who once owned your heart, and yours his. He had grown gorgeous. His golden skin peaking through his low tank top, the sweat pouring from his face and chest. His lighter colored hair, even grown a moustache that suited him and already had you slightly weak to the knees. He was a different man from the one you fell for. Yet you were also a different woman. He stood up and walked towards the bar. Your gaze returning to the pilot by your side, whispering into your ear. Bradley froze mid step, removing his aviators fully and placing them around his top so that he could get a better look at you. Clenching his jaw and tightening his fists into balls. He looked you up and down. Taking in all your beauty. Feeling a ping of jealousy at the sight of you in a short tight dress and seeing another man’s hands on you. When they should be his.

Leaning on the bar next to you, he signalled Penny for a beer. “Y/N?” He questioned. His dark eyes staring daggers into you and the pilot next you. Turning your head towards him, a thousand memories began flooding your mind of what used to be.

“Hey, Bradley.” You replied with a smile.

This cause Bradley to stagger and go silent for a bit when you said his name. It had been ten years since he had heard that voice say his name. You felt a hand around your waist again and you broke eye contact with Bradley to look at the pilot.

“I’m sorry, can you give us some space?” You asked the pilot, and he nodded in agreement and left you both alone.

Bradley’s throat tightened, you were still as magical and ethereal as you were all them years ago. Clearing his throat before he spoke up again. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Paris?”

“I did. I got here a few weeks ago. I have a shoot here, unfortunately.” You admitted. You hated this. Being in front of the man you had walked out on.

“Unfortunately? You aren’t glad to be back?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

You sighed and picked up your beer, downing it all wanting this moment to be over. Picking up your purse, you decided the best place to be was home.

“Where are you going?” Bradley asked, grabbing your arm as you got up.

“Home? I’m already tired of this conversation.” You harshly bit back to him.

Bradley stopped and inhaled. “Then let me drive you back.”

“No, I’m good. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You calmly replied.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not gonna let you walk back alone, come on.”

Opening the passenger door, he helped you get into his Bronco. The same car he had all them years ago “So where are you staying?”

“That beach house. The one we said we were going to buy when we were older. Yeah, that’s mine now.” You said, softly. Feeling like your heart was going to pour out. Reminding you of the conversation the two of you had years ago.

“Ah. I see.” The drive was silent. An uncomfortable silence. Every now and then, you could feel Bradley staring in your direction. He wanted to reach over, rest his hand on your thigh like he always used to. Pulling into your driveway, you quickly gathered your things and made your way to the door. Bradley rushed out, running up to you. “Wait! Can we talk?”

You sighed, and let out a deep breath. Turning to face him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was now stood in front of you, towering over you, even in heels. His face was inches away from yours. Feeling his breath so close. His cologne filling your nostrils with every breath you took. You inhaled his scent and looked up to him.

“Please.. I’ve waited ten fucking years to talk to you. I’m not going to waste this opportunity. Now I know you’re back home.. I won’t..” He shook his head, meeting your gaze. He struggled to get out what he wanted to say, desperately wanting to pull you into his chest and hold you – hating how angry and upset he was at you. “Y/N, I was so in love with you, I was head over heels for you. And you just left me, left what we had. Like it was all nothing to you! Like I meant nothing to you! You broke my fucking heart! Left me wondering what I did wrong. Where I went wrong. If there was something wrong with me.”

Tears began steaming down his face as he stuttered the last words out. You dropped your eyes to the floor. Guilt ridden and in a situation you never thought you would ever be in again.

“Fuck!” His voice cracked as he rubbed his face free of tears.

You turned to your front door, fumbling with the key in the lock before you unlocked it. “Come in, we’ll talk inside.” You motioned for him to enter first.

He stopped in your living room, taking in the view of the house you were going to share together. “How long have you owned this?” His eyes diverting to one certain picture of you in Paris, for your first shoot. You looked gorgeous, and so happy.

“Awhile. I bought it after mom passed. But just never actually returned here until recently.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He quietly said, not wanting to push the conversation further until you were ready.

You sighed, running your hand through your hair. “Drink?”

He nodded, and you made your way into the kitchen, collecting a tumblr of whiskey and two glasses. You wandered back into the living room, watching him fall onto your couch, his muscular arm draping over the back of it. “You didn’t answer me before.” He accepted the glass and took a sip.

“I didn’t realise it was a question.” You took a seat next to him and sighed loudly, downing your drink all in one.

“It wasn’t. But I think I deserve to know.” He eased himself more into the couch, rubbing his face.

You took a deep breath. “You did nothing wrong. You will never know how much I regretted walking away from you, how much I hurt you. It hurt me just as much you know? It took everything in me to just leave.”

“Then why the fuck did you not even bother to reply to me? I sent so many texts, you never answered my calls. I even went as far as emailing you! I made myself look stupid, everyday for years and never got a reply. I just wanted to know how you were. Yet you just forgot about me.”

You tilted your head back into the couch, rubbing your forehead.

“Why?! Did I really mean nothing to you?!”

“Stop saying that!” You angrily shot back, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Then tell me!”

“God damn it, Bradley! I blocked you! It hurt too much seeing you keep pop up on my phone, so I thought it would have been easier for both of us if we didn’t have any means of contact.” You admitted.

His eyes dropping away from yours, smoothing down his moustache and running his free hand through his hair. “Maybe for you, but it made me look desperate. Or maybe I was just desperate to hear from you, to get your attention, and having you back.”

You set your glass down, groaning a displeased noise and you stood up. “Maybe you should g-“

“I’ve missed you, darling.” He interrupted you, towering his full height over you, taking your chin in his hand. “You didn’t have to push me away like that, I told you I’d always be here for you. Or was that all bullshit to you?”

“Can you stop doubting how I felt for you. Yes I loved you. Yes I missed you, more than you will ever realise. Like I said, I regretted it the moment I left. But it was for the best. We had different paths. You wouldn’t of left behind your life and dreams to come to a new part of the world with me.” You replied, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes.

“I would of followed you anywhere, sweet girl. If it meant being with you. But you never gave me the chance.”

“Well we both know that isn’t true.”

“You know I had to resist the temptation to fly over there and see how you were doing? It was only because of Nat and Mav who told me to let you go. But I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to get over you.”

Falling into an array of silence, his heart broke at every word you had told him. Losing his own parents, he knew the grief you were going through. Yet he never knew the things you went through, and certainly didn’t want to push any sort of conversation onto you. Apart of him wanted to take you in his arms, and make sure you forgot every bad thing that has happened to you in your life since leaving. It killed him to know that you also suffered the same grief. Not only that, but knowing all this time, that you regretted leaving him.

He spoke up, breaking the silence between you two. “You look beautiful. I mean, you always have been. But my god, baby, you’re unreal.” Rubbing his thumb over your cheek, whilst still holding your chin in his hand.

The corners of your mouth slightly raising up, letting a small laugh out. “You don’t look bad either, Bradley. The new stache suits you well.”

“I don’t want to leave. Please don’t make me leave.” Bradley said, as he lifted his hands to cradle your face.

“Bradley.. This isn’t how we should do this. Things have changed.” You begged, your own hands clinging onto his shirt.

“What’s changed, baby?” He whispered relatively close to your ear, his breath hitching a soft spot under your ear. He knew every nuance of your body, he knew how to get you started with just a slight touch or breath. He gripped your hand and brought it up to his lips, the bristle of his moustache tickling you as he placed a tender sweet kiss to your knuckle.

You removed yourself from his grip, not wanting to fall into this new charm of his. “We shouldn’t.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can we talk another day then? I’m not going to let you get away this time.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I’m here for awhile.” You replied back, taking a step back.

“Let me take you out then? Properly. Unless that guy from the bar has your attention?”

You laughed at his question and stood silently for awhile, admiring the man in front of you. Thinking long and hard about an answer. Which made Bradley nervous. Was he about to be let down again? Were you already seeing someone?

“Okay.” Was all you could reply, not wanting to entertain his jealously.

“Then you need to unblock my number, ma’am.” He joked, which resulted in you rolling your eyes at him. “Please don’t leave this time.”

He took your hand one last time for the night, placing another kiss to your knuckles before turning around and making his way back home.

You made your way to bed after your shower. Fluffing up your pillow, you flopped onto the bed turning to your side, wondering if it was a good idea that you made Bradley leave. Or should you of let him stay the night? Let out all of your frustration and hurt on each other’s bodies? You shook away all the thoughts and looked over to your phone to see that Nat had messaged you.

Nat: How are things? I saw you leave with Rooster? Have you two made up and fucking each other’s brains out?

You: Haha, very funny. Rooster? And no, I told him to leave actually.

Nat: Rooster is his call sign, but I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it. If you let him.

You: Maybe. But it’s all too much. Is it?

Nat: Babe, you know he’s deeply in love with you, always has been. He would pester me most days asking if I’ve heard from you. Give him a chance, he’s a good guy, and he’s missed you terribly..

You: I’ve only just gotten back, and he’s quickly entered my life again. I just don’t know how to feel.

Nat: Just give it time, take it slow. It’s been ten years. You guys just need to start again and talk about things.

You: We’ll see how it goes. But I’m not promising anything.

Nat: Do you still love him?

You: I don’t know. I tried so hard to get over him. And I did. And now he’s back.

Nat: Try and get some sleep, and see how you feel about it all. Just… don’t break his heart again. You’ve both been through so much.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. You couldn’t stop replaying the moments from last night. You were sat wide awake questioning everything you ever had with Bradley. Every memory you cherished together, all the future plans you talked about. Everything came flooding your mind at once, making it impossible to sleep.

You managed to roll out of bed and have a shower, freshening yourself up from the hangover that was currently residing over you. Throwing on a baggy tee and rolling your hair into curlers to air dry. You checked your phone to see that poor Bradley had been messaging you, and was left wondering if you were going to leave him again without a word.

Bradley: I see my messages still aren’t going through.. I guess that means I’m still blocked.

You: I’m sorry. I just showered and went to sleep after you left.

Bradley: I’m sorry if last night was too much. Can I come see you?

You: Sure… I’m free later?

Bradley: Perfect! I’ll be around about 6? Is that alright?

You: Sounds good. I’ll see you later.

Bradley: I can’t wait x

You kept yourself busy most of the day, and now it was approaching 6pm, knowing that Bradley would most likely arrive early. You opted to wear something casual, a graphic cropped tee and some tight dark jeans. Just when you were finishing off your hair, you heard a knock on your front door. Making sure you looked good, you made your way over to the door. And there he was. One arm leaning against the doorframe, the other behind his back. A shy but sincerely happy smile creeping onto his tanned face. A well pressed black tee clinging tightly to his body, and jeans that hugged his thighs perfectly. His cologne instantly making your head go crazy.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He said warmly, taking his hand from the doorway and placing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

The apples of your cheek immediately flushed from this sudden affection. “Hey.”

“How you always manage to look sexy even in casual clothes always blows my mind.” He laughed whilst admiring every part of you from where he was standing. “Sorry, I got these for you.” He removed his hands from behind his back, handing you a dozen beautiful red roses.

“Bradley… you didn’t have to.”

“No. But I know you always liked flowers, and I’ve gotta try and impress you again somehow right?” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was nervous. The usual Bradley Bradshaw you knew was always a confident guy. This guy, was new to you.

This was different, and it drew you in even more than you wanted. He was incredibly gorgeous, you knew he was always good looking, but now, all these years later. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His sun kissed skin, those hazel colored eyes staring deep into your own. How much lighter his hair was, the way his clothes hung to him. And of course, his body was so much more defined and muscular. He was perfect.

Getting your head out of the gutter, you quickly snapped out the thoughts of him. “Come in.” You took the flowers from his hand and guided him into where he had just been last night.

You made your way into the kitchen, to vase the roses he had given you. Making your way back into the living room, Bradley was already nursing himself a glass of whiskey. Placing the roses on the coffee table, you poured yourself a glass and sat down next to him.

The two of you talked for a few hours about how your lives turned out, you told him all about your job, the places it took you, he told you all about how he became a Naval Aviator, all about Top Gun and all of his missions.

“You know, I didn’t imagine this would ever happen. I always dreamed it would, but I never thought I’d ever be sitting here with you again.” He admitted, bringing the glass to his lips.

“Yeah well… I didn’t exactly expect this to happen either.”

“Did you ever think about me?”

Your silence told him everything, and he hung his head low. “Was there someone else?” He asked anxiously. Fearing for a reply he didn’t want to hear.

“No. There was no one else.. and yes, I thought about you a lot. That’s why I found it so hard to block you.” You replied, putting his mind at ease as his gaze met yours again. “Honestly Bradley, I’d rather not talk about the past. Because in truth, I missed you so much, and no one else has ever loved me the way you did.” You admitted, resting your legs onto his lap. “I was foolish for ever leaving you. What I did wasn’t right. I left you without a heads up and I’m sorry.”

Bradley sighed, his hand resting on your thigh, kneading into your skin. He huffed out a slight chuckle, “Yeah.. ten years wasted, darling.” He fell silent for awhile. “You know I’ve always loved you. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you. Everyday I wondered how you were, what you were doing, how your job was going. I even asked Nat about you, as I knew the two of you kept in contact.”

“I know. She said.”

“Of course she did.” He sighed again. Reaching out closer to you, moving a stray of hair from your face. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

His hands still lingering on your face, you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. “A few times.”

“Well, I’ll remind you a million times, just to see that pretty smile I fell so much for.” His hand now cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the softness of your skin. “God. I still remember the day I first saw you. At that shitty party, those high raised shorts and your cowboy boots.” He snorted trying to picture you in that same outfit now. “And gods, that smile, when I made my way over to you and asked for you name.” He swallowed hard. “You instantly had me wrapped around your finger. And even then you played hard to get and made me work hard for a date with you. I should of known you were going to be trouble from that moment.” He chuckled quietly, gazing lovingly into your eyes.

“Uh huh, but you got the date, did you not? You obviously did something right.” You playfully slapped his arm.

“Fuck yeah, I got you. That was the best move of my life.” He told you, softly.

His eyes searched for yours, desperately wanting to touch you, hold you, have your body close to his. You gently reached for his hand, tracing over his palms. “I am sorry. I should of contacted you. I was only thinking about myself and my future.” You finally admitted.

He sighed and shook his head, intertwining his fingers with your own. “Don’t be. I should have been proud of you for following your dreams. Who was I to stop you from doing that?”

“So.. Lieutenant Bradshaw.” This one sentence made his cheeks heat up rapidly, and felt his cock go hard. Why did that turn him on so much? Coming from you, it was so sexy. “Do I call you Roost? Rooster?”

“You can call me anything you want, darling.” He licked his lips, staring at you intensely which only made you grow hot under his gaze.

Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him. His arm that was spread out behind the couch was now resting on your shoulder. “Fuck, what do you do to be, baby?” He asked, as he took your chin in his palm. Your faces now inches apart from each other, so close… your lips slightly parted, desperate to be kissed. “How is it just seeing you drives me crazy all over again.” His voice was low and raspy, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. You didn’t break his gaze, instead opting to rest your hand on his thigh. Bradley could feel himself sweating profoundly to where your hand was heading.

“Fuck this..” he whispered against your skin, grasping your face tenderly. His lips feeling hot against your own. He drew you closer to him, his strong hands resting on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Deepening the kiss that was already so needy. “Tell me you want this as much as I do, otherwise I won’t stop.” He asked you, taking a hand from your waist and running it through your hair, as his lips were back on yours.

Gasping into his mouth, you pulled back, knowing that if it carried on much longer, you both wouldn’t be able to control it.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Did I go to far?” Bradley asked nervously.

You chuckled softly, readjusting your hair. “No, but maybe ask a girl out for dinner first before you try and bed her.” You mischievously winked at him and smiled into his mouth.

“You really are going to be the death of me, you know that right? And I did ask you last night.”

“Not properly though.”

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, “Will you go on a date with me?” He warmly smiled at you, his hands kneading into the bare skin on your waist.

“Hm, I’ll have to check my calendar, see if I’m available from all my other dates.” You joked.

He gripped tighter into your waist, causing you to jolt in your spot. “Oh yeah? Go on a lot of dates do you? Although I think you should prioritise our date first, babygirl.”

“Mhm, and why’s that?” Your hands finding their way into his curls and gripping tightly, making his head jerk back.

Bradley loved this new dominant side of you. Not afraid to show you how hard he was under the tightness of his jeans, as he grinded you against him. “Because you know I’ll make it worth your time, baby.” His lips turning into a wicked grin. He was falling apart under you.

Your hands moving down to clutch onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to your face. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Removing yourself from his lap slowly. He shook his head, letting out a raspy scoff.

“You’re impossible. Is that a yes?”

“Well, it’s not a no, sir.”

This made Bradley lose his damn mind. He just wanted to take you here and now, and show you what you’ve been missing out on.

“Where?” You stood up with your back facing him, flicking your hair back.

He bit down on his knuckle, taking in the form of your body in front of him. Your ass looked so damn good and perky and he just want to squeeze it. “Let me sort that, all you have to do is make yourself look sexy, as always.”

“Deal.”

In truth, Bradley hadn’t been on a date in years. He tried, wanting to get over you somehow. But each date was a fail. He didn’t enjoy any of them. Because in the end, nothing ever felt right to him. Sure, he occasionally had a girl over, but that’s all it ever was. A one night stand. No one had ever caught his eye like you had. And if it wasn’t going to be you, then he didn’t want to settle with anyone else.

“Then I’ll let you know when and what time, darling.”

You nodded in agreement, with a very flirtatious smile. This only made his palms sweat more, and his heart was fucking racing. He grinned as he stood up, his hands finding the curve of your back, rubbing smooth circles in a spot he knew you liked. “See me out?”

He took your hand and linked your fingers with his as you led him to the door, he pulled you close to him. “I’m never letting you leave again.” He inhaled deeply and kissed you again, this time more soft and passionate. How was this man able to make your knees want to collapse from under you?

“Then you’ll have to try hard to make me stay, Rooster.” You replied.

Squinting his eyes, breathing into your mouth. “Oh baby, I promise, you’ll be staying this time.”

Pressing yourself fully into his chest, you whispered enough for him to be able to hear you, “Cocky, I like it. You’re pushing your way to the top of my dates.”

Shaking his head, “I’ll make it perfect.” He kissed you again. “I meant everything I said. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d be stupid to let you go again.”

“Then don’t.”

He smiled softly, grazing his hands across your cheek, he could feel all the blood rushing from his body. Was this a dream? He had you back in his life and he was a nervous wreck. Scared of fucking it all up and losing you all over again. “God, you make it hard for a man to leave.” He teased, kissing you one final time before pulling away. Knowing himself that he would lose himself fully to you if he stayed.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” Bringing your hand to his lips, placing that ever so gentle kiss to your fingers.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.” You said boldly, making your way back inside, shutting the door behind you and sighing. Running your hands through your hair. You stumbled back into the living room, pouring yourself another glass of whiskey before throwing yourself onto the couch where he had just been. A million thoughts running through your mind of what just happened.

Nat had texted you a few days later, telling you to get your ass to the Hard Deck tonight with some of the girls. She wanted to know all the gossip between you and Rooster. You had been texting him back and fourth since you last saw him. And there still wasn’t any valid communication of when this ‘date’ was going to happen. You sighed, zipping up your dress and putting on your black boots heels. Overdosing yourself in your favorite perfume.

Nat: Just so you know, lover boy is here.

The Hard Deck was already over flooded with people, music bustling through the crowd. You spotted the girls over near the pool table, with a few guys hanging around them. Typical, you thought, as you made your way over to the bar.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing around here?” A voice asked from beside you. His fingers grazing over your wrist. “Let me buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

Turning to look at the stranger beside you, sure he was good looking. But you simply replied with a “no thanks.” Moving past him to the other side of the bar. Of course, Bradley had his eyes on you from the moment you walked in. A part of him wanted to see what you would do. If you would entertain and pursue this guy. But the other part was seething with rage.

“Come on, you’re gonna turn down a free drink? Why don’t we go somewhere mo-“

“Penny, two beers here, please.” Bradley wandered over, tapping his fingers on the bar, hovering next to you. His body heat was radiating in close proximity to you. His cologne overwhelmed you and instantly making your knees want to buckle under you.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go somewhere else.” The man was a drunken mess, moving his hands lower down to reach your ass.

Bradley quickly snatched his hands away. “Touch her again pal, and me and you will be outside. Now fuck off.” He moved his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine.” He squared his eyes, watching the man walk away.

“Oh, I’m yours? Since when? I didn’t realise I was.” You replied back sarcastically.

“No. But you soon will be. You look incredible. Although that dress would look better on my bedroom floor.” He placed a kiss on top of your hair, knowing the two of you were being watched. You pulled away, a grin plastered across his face. He knew what he was doing. He wanted everyone in here to know that you were off limits. He was possessive of what was his.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? You asked.

“I’d never forget our date. Don’t worry, I have it all planned, just one more thing to sort and then you’re all mine.” He replied, squeezing your waist tighter.

“Thanks for the beer, baby.” You winked, leaving him breathless as you walked away from him, flicking your hair behind you.

You caught Nat’s eyes and she motioned for you to come over. She pulled you into a warm hug. “You’ve made a complete mess of him, you know?” She whispered quietly in your ear, watching him at the bar, his eyes not once letting you out of his sight. “The minute you walked in, he was drooling over you. He’s obsessed. And when that guys hands were on you, well… he looked ready to kill him.”

You just had to laugh, pulling away from her embrace and looking over your shoulder to see Bradley’s eyes staring deep into you. Sending him a quick smile.

“So what happened? Did you make up. Have you slept with him yet?” Nat asked, patiently waiting for your answer.

“No, we haven’t slept together.”

“Yet.” Nat quickly jumped in, snickering a laugh as she looked over to Bradley and then back to you.

“We just talked. And kissed. It’s been ten years, I’m not about to just hop straight back into his pants.”

“Oh but you will. I know you guys have genuine feelings for each other, or well… maybe him more than you. Which is something he probably fears. But, take it easy on him, when you left, he was different. Just a shell of who he used to be. And now you’re back, well just look at him. He’s absolutely smitten over you. You know more than anyone that he’s a good guy. He’s never once hurt you, he wont ever hurt you. You two are made for each other. Always have been. Everyone knows that.” She turned her face towards the bar, nodding in his direction.

“You need to shoot your shot, man.” Jake muttered, silently watching you drunkenly dance around. “That girl will quickly have someone to bed if you don’t take that chance to do something.”

“Shut up, Hangman.” Bradley hissed, smoothing down his moustache. He knew he was right though. If he didn’t do something soon, you would easily be swooped up.

“Just saying, she’s a sight for sore eyes.” Jake shrugged, leaving Bradley to bask in his own head, beer paused at his lips. His gaze never faltered from you.

“Last call?” Nat asked.

“No, I’m gonna head back. I’ve reached my limit and I have my shoot in the morning.”

“Are you gonna be alright getting back?” She asked worryingly.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” You reassured her.

You grabbed your purse and began making your way outside, until Bradley caught your arm. “Let me take you home. You know I don’t like you walking back on your own.” He pleaded with you.

Closing your eyes, your body suddenly heating up from the idea of drunken sex with your ex, you nodded. His fingers locking with yours as he led you to his Bronco. He prompted you into the passenger seat, leaning over to fasten your seatbelt. Fuck, he was so close. And he smelled divine. Watching as he got into the drivers side, biting the inside of your cheek watching how one of his hands rested on your thigh. A smug pleased grin sitting on his face as he drove you back home.

Pulling into your driveway, turning the engine off, he turned to face you. His hazel eyes peering across from you. “Fuck, baby. I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. Watching you tonight, it’s fucking torture… Tell me you want this too? And I’m not just going insane.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his face.

Grinning, you got out of the passenger side and started heading towards the door. “Are you coming?” You asked.

“Fuck yes.” His eyes drifted up and down your body, taking in the sight of that dress sitting tightly around your curves. Hopping quickly out of his car, he ran over to you and blindly followed you into your home. Closing the door behind him, he eased you back against the wall, his hands running down your sides and gripping the curve of your ass. A surprised noise left your throat. His lips finally landed on yours, his tongue pushing its way past your own, savouring all the taste of you. His large hands finding the back of your head, as they tangled themselves in your hair. The gentle pull of his fingers slightly forcing your head to tilt back, roped another surprised gasp escaping your parted lips.

Your hands grazing over the ripples of his shirt, hastily lifting the hem of it up to trace your fingers over the smoothness of his abdomen. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing himself closer towards you, moving his thigh to be pressed between your legs. He used a free strong hand to pin your own hands above your head. Leaning back down to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining. It was messy, and so desperate. His hands bunched at the bottom of your dress, tugging at it for your approval. Not wanting to push any boundaries onto you if that’s not what you wanted.

“Don’t stop.” Your voice was needy as your teeth bit down into his bottom lip. Causing a grown to escape his own mouth. At this point, you had completely given in to him. “I need you.”

That was all Bradley needed to hear. Using his hands, he lifted you up wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you to your bedroom. His hands gripped tightly around your thighs, he dropped you gently onto the bed under him, before he climbed over you. His height towering you. God, he was gorgeous. He lifted your legs around him, as he pushed further into you, bringing your bodies even closer. You could feel how hard he was under his jeans. He wasn’t shy to show you how you made him feel. But you both wanted more, to feel each other’s skin on each other. “Fuck, baby. You’re driving me wild.”

You couldn’t let go of each other, even if you tried. His hands began wandering over your body, slowly lifting your dress up, gripping his fingers into your hips. His fingers gliding over your soft, warm skin. He grabbed your chin, tilting your head to the side as he buried his mouth into your neck. Kissing you all along your jaw, down to your neck and then back to your lips. He deepened the kiss, moving hungrily against your own, flicking his tongue around yours. Biting down on your bottom lip, you pushed your hips up closer to his thigh. The dampness between your legs was becoming insufferable. You reached up and began pulling his shirt over his head. You were even more desperate, using your hands to start unbuckling his belt.

He chuckled and pushed you back down onto the bed. “That can wait, I gotta make sure my baby comes first.” He unzipped your dress and pulled it down, throwing it down to the ground. Taking a step back, he sat up for a moment, taking in the sight of you. “My god, you’ve been naked this whole time under that dress?! Fuck… you’re so fucking beautiful.” He mused, licking his lips.

Before you even realised, his warm mouth was wrapped around your breast, flicking and circling around your nipple, whilst caressing the other one with his hand. A high pitched moan coming from the root of your throat, you felt him smile against you. A pleasing noise he enjoyed hearing. The heat in your gut causing an impossible ache that just needed to be relieved.

His fingers gliding down your body, until he was at your core. “Damn, baby. All wet for me? Good girl.” He says against your lips. Gently rubbing and circling around your clit, his mouth moving back down to pay attention to your nipples. My god, this man knew how to work your body.

He continued the motion, slowly sliding a finger in, whilst using his thumb to rub circles over your slick folds. Finding the right pace of movement, he slid another finger in, fastening the pace. You were writhing under him, completely lost to the sensation. He closed his eyes, bringing his head down lower back into your neck, finding that one sensitive spot that he knows how much you like. You let out a breathless moan, as your hands gripped into his hair. “I wanna feel you on me.”

“As you wish, babygirl.” He removed his fingers, moving his hands up and down your thighs, lifting them over his shoulders, placing kisses all along them as he lowered his head between your legs. The sweet friction of his moustache against you. The feeling of his hot, wet mouth buried into your clit. Sucking and pulling at your folds, he then drags his tongue in a perfectly fast motion deep around you. Your fingers once again winding into his hair, pushing him more into you.

“Fuck! Bradley, you’re so good.” You moaned out, feeling a wave of emotion rush over you.

He teased you more, his eyes never leaving your own, intensely watching how you react to him with so much lust. He could feel your body reacting to him, the arch of your back and the way you couldn’t keep still, it sent him over the top. He continued to bury himself more into you until you could no longer take it. You called out his name, in a way he would describe as ‘angelic’ before feeling your release come washing over you.

“You liked that, baby?” He asked, licking his lips tasting all of you on him.

Without a word, you pushed him onto his back, gripping at his jeans and unbuckling them so fast. His underwear was gone in an instant. You smiled to yourself, taking in the sight of him now under you. “I almost forgot how big you were.”

He watched you as you placed yourself over him, grinding yourself over his hard cock. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The alcohol was burning out of your system by now, as you were nearly fully sober. This was definitely something you would remember in the morning. Bradley threw his head down as you lined his cock to your entrance and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Each tantalising inch stretching your walls just enough. You both groaned out loud as you sunk yourself fully onto him. He looked up at your face, sweat beading down his eyebrows and along his chest. His hands grabbed onto your waist as you guided him into a rhythm. God, you were so good at riding him. He wouldn’t last long if you kept this up.

His hips rocked into you as he matched your rhythm, pounding more and more into you. Moving a hand from your waist, he reached up to your neck, gently grabbing with enough pressure. A sweet cry leaving your mouth with each and every thrust he was doing. He looked up at you, a grin on his face. The sight of you bouncing on his cock was something he could never tire of. And he only wanted more.

The more he picked up his speed, the more he could feel you tightening around him. He released his hand from your neck and placed both of them on either side of your face. Pulling you down closer to him. Faces inches away from each other. Both breathing heavily as you panted into his mouth. Each groan, each whine, every sound coming from your lips only drove his hips to delve deeper into you.

The heat in your core pooled until you reached your limit. A relief rushing over you. “Cum for me, baby.” Bradley captured your lips ever so slightly, enough that you screamed out your moan into his mouth. You rippled around him, and your own orgasm was enough to bring him to his end. A few final thrusts into you, he pulled you tighter to him as he spilled himself all over you. His hot, heavy breath right in your ear.

He pulled you closer to him, breathing into your hair, taking in your scent. Running his hands over your body. “Told you I’d make it worth your time.” He kissed your forehead, resting one of his hands on the curve of your back. His large palm pressing up and down your spine. He dragged your leg over his hip, bringing your bodies ever closer together. “God, I’ve missed this. Not just the sex, but this. Having you in my arms, so close.”

Taking a deep breath in, “No one has ever loved me like you. I’ve missed you too.” You said softly. “After mom passed, I thought about… well, all I wanted was for you to hold me. Tell me everything was going to be alright. I was gonna fly back out, come home and see you.. but the thought of it was too much.”

“Oh, darling. We’re here now. And I’m not letting you go. I promise. After losing both of my parents, all I wanted was to find someone in this life the way they did. They were so happy together, and I know they would of wanted the same for me. You made me happy. There wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t put a smile on my face. And losing you was the worst thing I’ve experienced since losing mom. I felt like my life just meant nothing anymore. I lost everyone I loved. And it distracted me in my flying. It took me a long time to realise I asked too much of you. If I could go back and take things as they came, fuck… I would.” Swallowing hard, he continued, “I planned my life with you, this house, a family. Then it was gone. And a part of me always wondered if I pushed you too far. Ten years that has stuck with me.”

You heart yearned for him as he poured his heart out to you. “We’re older now, things have changed. We’re not the same people as we were back then.”

“True, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I don’t want to rush anything, but just know I want this. I want us again.” He sighed. “I am so in love with you. I always have been. I’ll wait for you always.” He admitted.

“Then how about we start with this date?” You chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

He gently cupped your cheek, moving a stray of hair that had fallen onto your face. “Sounds perfect. Friday, at about 7pm? That sound good to you?”

“I can’t wait.” You pulled him into a kiss, looking over at your alarm clock, realising that you had to be up in a few hours for your shoot. “Shit! I have my shoot today.”

“I guess that’s my cue to leave?” He smiled lightly.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine, I know this is important to you.” He helped you to your feet and stood up himself. Stepping away, he buckled his jeans back up and grabbed his shirt, whipping it over his head, messing up his golden locks even more. He looked so fucking sexy, looking so unruly. As handsome as Bradley was always looking preem and proper, his messy hair had you feeling ways you never thought you’d feel again for him.

Moving yourself in front of him, standing on your tiptoes to try and reach his height, you kissed him deeply. Hoping that it would show how sorry you were about cutting this short. He wrapped you up into his strong arms, lips moving greedily against yours, his palms grasping into your ass, giving it a playful slap, the other hand holding you tightly to him around the waist.

You pulled away from him, but still close enough so that his breath was hitching on your skin. “You’ll see me soon.”

“I’ll be counting down the days. Get some sleep, baby.” He pulled you in again, leaning into your hair to place a tender kiss to your hair. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He said as he made his way out of your house.

Falling back into your bed, feeling empty without him in it. Tugging the pillow he had been laying on close to you as you inhaled his scent. There really was no turning back now.

You had kept yourself busy for the next remaining days leading up to Friday. It was getting closer to 7pm and you were still preparing for your date with Bradley. You spent most of the afternoon trying to make yourself look as amazing as you could. Looking at the choices of outfits you had hung up, it was either between a satin red dress that screamed ‘wine me, dine me, 69 me’ or a casual leather corset and jeans. You had no idea where he was taking you. Would you be too over dressed? Too under dressed?

In your head, you wanted to impress him. When in reality, you could be wrapped up in ten jackets and he would still be madly in love with you. Standing in front of the mirror, you admired yourself in the new lingerie you had bought specially for this occasion. Knowing damn well that Bradley would lose his mind the minute he saw it. “Fuck it, the dress it is.” You slipped the dress over your shoulders, pulling it down so it sat nicely around your curves.

Slipping on your heels, you heard a faint knock at the door, you paused looking over at the time. “Well, here it goes.” Giving yourself a once over in the mirror and over powering yourself in perfume.

Grabbing your purse, you made your way over to the front door. Slightly nervous and giddy to see him. You opened it widely with a smile. “Hello.” You said, biting down on your lower lip. He looked so fucking good. He opted for a black shirt, velvet navy blue blazer, tight black pants that hung to his thighs and smart black loathers, and smelling incredibly divine.

He looked down at you, his gaze taking in every inch of your body, mouth wide open. Resting his arm on your doorframe to stop him from falling over. “Shit… you look fucking stunning.”

“Thank you.” You teased, giving him a little twirl to truly show off how amazing you looked and felt. “You don’t look half bad yourself, handsome.”

Smoothing down his moustache, he pulled you into his arms, his palms resting on your lower back. Staring down at you with eyes that were already undressing you in his mind. His heart was racing, any more and it would of exploded out of his fucking chest. Leaning down he kissed you sweetly, “I can’t even put into words how sexy you look. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to concentrate on anything tonight.”

“The feelings mutual, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so good.” You winked at him, sliding your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck… I’m trying so hard right now to behave and not just take you right here, right now.” He considered it for a moment, staring down at your lips and licking his own in this built up anticipation. “You look so beautiful, darling.”

You hummed in response. “Should we go?” Reminding him that you both had a date.

“Okay.” He took your hand and guided you out of the door. Looking down at your hands linked together, you loved the feeling on how large his hands felt in your own small ones. How tightly he held onto you. His did something to you. Something that made your head swirl. He let you lock up and set your house alarms and directed you to his Bronco. Opening the passenger door, he helped you step into it, one of his hands holding yours, the other resting firmly on your hip. If there’s one thing you always liked about Bradley, it was how much of a gentleman he was. He had manners, respect. That was something you always loved about him.

Watching him walk around the car, he scooted into the drivers side and you buckled yourself in.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been in here plenty of times, you know?” You replied and smiled.

“It’s a sight I have missed.” He huffed a heartfelt laugh. Gently reaching over and grasping your thigh. He placed a kiss on your cheek as he didn’t want to ruin your lipstick.

Arriving in front of the restaurant, you were greeted by a valet. Which shocked you because you knew Bradley didn’t let anyone touch his pride and joy. Unbuckling yourself, he jogged around to the passenger side to help you out of his car, before giving the keys to valet.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” You jokingly said as he placed your hand in his, leading you into the restaurant.

Bradley wasn’t big into making an impression. If someone didn’t like him for who he was, and what he was, then he just simply wasn’t interested. But for you, tonight, he made an effort. He picked the most fanciest and well-rated restaurant in town. It was known for its combination of mixed cuisines and fancy wines. He thought it would be the perfect place for your first date. It was very strict on dress codes, and now you know why he looked so good.

There was a warm glow from the candle that sat flickering between you both. You had one of the best views in the place, a window table with a view of the beach and the sunset shining over the water. The dim surroundings and the smell of all the delicious food, it all felt so romantic. There was a band playing live jazz music that added to this romantic atmosphere. You could tell that Bradley was nervous, he was shaking his leg under the table and fidgeting with his hands.

“Bradley, are you okay?” You said softly.

“Yeah… I’m just a little nervous.” He replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“Just relax. This isn’t exactly our first date is it? We were a couple once.”

He laughed at this, but it wasn’t a joyful happy laugh. It was more of a sincerely sad thinking back on memories sort.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s just, you look so fucking unreal and I just can’t believe you’re here with me, on a date. I’m trying not to mess this up.” He was genuinely in awe of the fact you were here in front of him. It felt like a dream to him.

“Bradley.” You paused, trying to figure out how to word what you wanted to say. “I’m happy to be sat here having dinner with you. Really, I am. And I appreciate all the effort you’ve made. You look gorgeous.”

He reached over the table and placed his hands on top of yours. Smoothing down circles into the skin of your knuckles. “Do you remember our first date? How hard I had to try and persuade you to go out with me?”

Chuckling softly, you replied. “I remember. You took me to that not so ‘fancy’ restaurant and made me look way too over dressed!”

“Yeah, but you looked so sexy, sat there eating a messy burger in that short little dress. Oof!”

You threw daggers at his eyes, trying to forget the whole ordeal. “Although I will admit, that burger was fucking delicious.”

“So were you.” He said with so much confidence.

“This is nice.”

He smiled, “Im glad you like it. I wanted to make it special.” He took your hand and placed it up to his lips, kissing your knuckle gently. “How’s the wine?”

“I’d much rather a nice cold beer and a few glasses of whiskey!” You scoffed.

“That’s my girl.” He grinned.

You were on your last course of the night, dessert. Bradley ordered a couple of plates so that you could share. With how small the rest of your plates from you main meal were. At this point, you were beyond charmed with him. This side of Bradley was completely different than the Bradley you dated years ago. It was like falling in love all over again for him. But in whole new ways.

“These meal portions have been ridiculous, I feel like I’m gonna have to take you to a certain burger place after this.” He teased.

“I wouldn’t say no to that greasy burger right about now.” You replied back, taking a whole bite of the small cheesecake with a raspberry drizzle.

Bradley was absolutely memorised by you. Watching you smile, and laugh over stories and jokes he was telling you. His own face lightening up and grinning widely listening to you tell your own stories. There was a glimmer in your eyes whenever you spoke about something you loved. The way you listened intensely to everything he was saying. It captivated him and his entire attention to you. If one of the other guys were to see him right now, they wouldn’t even recognise him. Not with this goofy grin on his face, that never once faltered. You both had this connection, there was no denying that. You could talk to each for hours about anything and it was all so seamless.

You watched as Bradley got up and made his way over to where the band was playing. You propped your chin up with your elbow, resting it on your knuckle and stared with curiosity when he leaned over the pianist. To your surprise, he got up and let Bradley take a seat. Now you were even more curious. His fingers glided over the white keys and he glanced up and over to where you were sitting. A smile spread on his face, sending you a flirtatious wink. It wasn’t until he started to play did you heart begin to race. It was your song. After your first date, he took you down to the beach and slow danced in the moonlight with you whilst singing ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ by Elvis Presley. And now here he was, playing a beautiful melody of it. His eyes were trained on yours as he began to sing along. The rest of the band accompanied him. It was beautiful. He really did go all out to make sure tonight was perfect.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall back into this. But with everything he was doing, you only fell deeper for him. When the song ended, the entire restaurant applauded him and he made his way back over to you.

“Still trying to impress me then?” You asked, flashing him a smile.

“Telling me you’re not? Damn, guess I’ve gotta try harder.”

You took a sip of your wine. “You’ve impressed me, Bradley Bradshaw. That was beautiful.” You reached over and placed a kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain on him. He didn’t even bother to wipe it off. He was too proud to show off what he had.

The rest of the dinner went amazing. But it was coming to an end, yet the both of you wanting nothing more than to carry it on.

“You know my mom always liked you. Whenever I would see her, without a doubt she would always ask about you. Always badger me with questions about when we’re going to buy a house, when we’re getting married, blah blah. And before she passed… she told me she wanted me to be happy. And said that I always found happiness with you.” You paused for a moment, feeling your eyes begin to tear up.

Bradley stood up, moving his chair and positioning it close to you. Resting his arm around your shoulder, he pulled you in close to him. Placing a light kiss on top of your head, circling his thumb pad over your shoulder. “She was great. I loved her. Do you know she would message me and ask when I’m finally going to put a ring on your finger?” He confessed.

You looked up at him, letting out a faint breath of air through your nose. “I’m not surprised. She wanted nothing more than for us to do something. She thought we were perfect.”

“Well she wasn’t wrong.” Resting his head on top of yours. “We are kinda perfect together.” He said, looking at the reflection of you both in the window.

After paying for the bill, the two of you walked hand in hand back to his car. Once helping you get into the passenger seat and getting in himself. He didn’t drive you back home. Instead, he parked up at the beach. You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Come on.” He guided you out of his car, coming to a halt. “Foot please, ma’am.”

He removed each of your heels and lifted you bridal style onto the sand.

The night breeze was a little chilly. Since you were only wearing a little dress, you were slightly shivering. Goosebumps appearing on your skin. He gently placed you down onto the sand, removing his blazer and draped it over your shoulders. Taking your hand, he slipped his fingers between the spaces of yours and tightly held on. His thumb brushing against the surface of your hand.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. Both of his hands wrapping around you and pulling you close to his chest. “I wanna make you happy, baby. I feel like I’ve gotten to know you all over again. Fall in love all over again with you.”

You hummed, “Since when did you turn so romantic?”

“Since you came back in my life. I had to make this right. Make you feel special. Because you always have been special to me.”

He gently started to sway you both together, humming along to that same Elvis song. You clasped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead on his. Every now and then, a breeze from the ocean blowing past you making you shiver as his arms held you tighter around the waist, moving up and down your back.

“It’s like our first date all over again.”

He lifted your chin with his fingers, kissing you deeply. “I meant it when I said I’m never letting you go again.” He kissed you again. “I’m so damn crazy about you. You’re all I want in this life.” He confided.

“Bradley… show me the way home.”

When you returned back home, you quickly led Bradley to the bedroom. Stepping behind you as his fingers grazed over your skin, moving your hair to the side. Placing kisses to the crook of your neck, to your shoulders. Looking at yourselves in the mirror, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “God, I love you.”

“Mhmm. I know what else you would love aswell.” You turned to face him, pushing him down onto the bed. He spread his thighs wide open, inviting you to sit on him.

His eyes were only on you. Watching as you slowly swayed side to side as you began to remove your dress. Letting it fully slip off and fall to the floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Bradley’s mouth was hung open and went dry. He was greeted with the sight of you in the matching new lingerie set you had bought. He had to bite down on his tongue and run his hands over his face. Was he dreaming? “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking sexy. Is this all for me?” He quickly sat up, grabbing you and dragging you down onto him. His fingers digging into your hips causing you to jolt.

Undoing the buttons on his shirt, you made haste to remove it and throw it to the floor. Your fingers drifted across his chest, down to his abdomen. Tracing over the belt of his pants and over his hard cock. He took your face in his hands kissing you breathlessly as your hands made steady work undoing his pants and boxers, pushing them down to his ankles before he kicked them off.

“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good.” You said confidently.

He was now fully exposed to you, already full on hard over you. You admired him for a few seconds before your hands wrapped around him, one on his shaft and the other teasing his balls. Bradley let out a slow breath, trying to calm himself otherwise he would just cum instantly from your touch. You made your fingers into a ring at the base of his tip and squeezed. Cause the blood to flow to his shaft where you started to skim your fingers up and down. Spitting on the tip, you slowly made work to massage it in and begin a steady pace stroking him.

“Mhm, that feels so good, baby.” Bradley moaned out, looking down at you.

You moved yourself lower down on him, your mouth wide open. The flat surface of your tongue lapped gently at the tip. He bucked his hips up as you began lapping at him. Using the tip of your tongue, you catched some drops of pre cum, licking at his head resulting in an attractive low gruff moan coming from his throat.

You looked up at him, without breaking eye contact, you took his entire head into your mouth. Closing your lips around him, leaving red printed lipstick marks all on him. Taking him out of your mouth, you swirled your tongue all the way around his head as you pulled him in again. Your tongue teasing him around the sensitive head. Taking him deeper into your mouth, you began sucking back and fourth.

Bradley watched you take him deeper, clenching his fingers into your hair and gripping it tightly, as he started to thrust into your mouth. He could feel himself sliding deep down the slick of your throat, and it felt fucking amazing. You took his entire length into your throat, not gagging once.

“Just like that, baby. I’m gonna cum.” He groaned out, gripping your hair more tighter, looking you deep in the eyes as he watched your head bob up and down on him.

His knuckles turning white, you held his cock deep in your throat and swallowed. Bradley let out a loud husky moan, as he felt his release all in your mouth. Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, his back arched as his hips came higher, his cock twitching and jerking in the sensation.

“Come here, gorgeous.” He said, turning his head to the side to face you as you lay next to him.

Kissing you softly and gentle. His hands drifted down your back, running soothing circles on your skin. “That was so fucking good. You’re incredible.” He moved himself over you, putting your hair to the side as he placed a trail of wet kisses down your neck. Leaving gentle bites and kissing each one of them after. He unclasped your bra, throwing it across the room. “You’re so beautiful.” He smiled down at you.

Pulling his body closer to yours, you crashed your lips onto his. He desperately increased the kiss, sliding his tongue and twirling it around with yours. His hands gracefully roaming over your body, caressing every inch of you. Your breathy moans right in his ear overwhelmed him. He pressed his body right to yours, moving against each other in a steady rhythm, one of his legs pressed tightly between your thighs. Your hand lowering down his body, taking his cock in your palm and slowly stroking the base of him.

“Hm, hard for me already?” You whispered into his ear.

“I always am”

He removed your underwear before hoovering himself back over you. “That’s a shame. That lingerie was so fucking sexy.”

Placing himself between your legs, he positioned himself at your entrance. One hand holding down your hip as the other was teasing his length around your slit and rubbing it up and down before gently pushing himself in. A sweet and needy moan escaping your mouth. He wanted to take his time, slowly inserting himself fully into you. “Mhm, you fit me so good, baby.”

He breathed straight into your ear, letting out his own thick moans as he was fully in you now. Finding a steady pace, he began to thrust into you. Each hit filling out the room with the sounds of your bodies slapping together as one. Bradley knew how to work your body. He knew all your weak spots, your sensitive areas, where made you feel extra good.

He started to pound faster and harder into you, as you could feel a tension flowing throughout your bodies. A wave of pleasure rushing over you, making your toes curl and your back arch. Sweat dripping from his torso. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, your delicate fingers clinging into his hair.

“Don’t stop, it feels so good.” You practically begged into his ear and he obeyed all of your wishes. Picking up his pace even more, his thrusts were getting deeper and sloppier and you could feel yourself tightening around him. You screamed out one last moan of his name as your body started to shake from the feeling of your release. “Cum for me, baby.”

Bradley pushed himself up, groaning and gripping at your hips, pounding into you as hard as he could. His own breath was unsteady and so loud. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” With a few final extra thrusts, he found his own release.

Rolling onto his side, he pulled you into his chest. A tangled, sweaty mess of limbs intertwining together. He kissed you passionately. His hands dragging down your back before resting one in your hair and gently stroking it.

“How’s my girl?” He asked, kissing the top of your head.

“Never felt better.” You nestled yourself closer to him, resting your head under his chin. His heartbeat was racing crazy. “Will you stay?”

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

“Mhm, I’d like to see your face in the morning. Stay.”

He snuggled you closer, drawing small soothing circles on your back. He smiled into your hair, “God, I really love you.”

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the-hopeless-haze · 1 year

Text

Worried About You

Chapter 4 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed On Me (House x reader)

“I need Vicodin,” Greg says to you, walking into your office. Well. Your office when you were here. You scowl slightly at the day-old coffee in your line of vision and think about how you’ll be scolded by the other people you share the office with the rest of the week when you inevitably forget that it’s there.

“Funny. I’m not your dealer,” you say.

You and Greg had hit it off, so to speak. Much to everyone’s chagrin and surprise, you continued seeing each other inside and outside the hospital. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about. Psychiatrists (or psychiatric doctors of nursing) are the worst patients and the best repressors. You did what you had to to be able to function like a member of society, but you were as fucked up as the rest of them. And you see Greg is similar. USA-renowned, if not world-renowned, diagnostician—but that was all he had besides a bum leg and a healthy dose of chronic depression and reliance on opiates to function.

When you finally had sex -heterosexual sex, dick in pussy sex - it was a frenzy fueled by alcohol and weeks long of teasing, and you saw glimpses of his leg in the midst of it and he saw the scars scattering your arms, but beyond the “oh, so you tried to kill yourself” he said to you when he edged you on the brink of orgasm the umpteenth time (and oh, boy, was that a mood killer) there were no comments about either.

But he kept you around and you weren’t entirely certain of why. It’s only been a month or so, and he’s not calling you his girlfriend or telling you he loves you, but he’ll still wine and dine you before railing you. And you don’t know if it’s out of obligation, if he feels like even though you’re not a hooker he has to pay you for sex, or if he genuinely enjoys your company. You think about how dissimilar you are to Wilson and how that’s the only person he keeps close. You wonder if maybe you remind him of his live-in ex that you’re almost certain he never got over. It’s a good time though, regardless. You make each other laugh. You both love The Rolling Stones. You begrudgingly agreed to be dragged to a monster truck show one night (“Wilson won’t come with me” he whined) and in return you made him go with you to see a local band perform that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in.

It was that sacrificing that made you pretty close to a real couple. Wilson pointed it out to you and he no doubt pointed it out to Greg. You made a snarky comment about his marriage and you wonder if you should compare notes with Greg to make sure you’re both not using the same lines.

You don’t know why you keep him around either, so it’s fair. It’s nice to have a fuck buddy, you suppose, and it’s also nice to almost like them as a human being rather than a sex toy. It’s certainly not because you think you can cure him, because you know you can’t. You wanted sex and you didn’t want a rehash. All things considered, he was a thorough lover and cared about getting you off as much as himself, which somewhat surprised you given how selfish he can be in other settings.

It’s not a bad arrangement. At least not right now.

But you’re fucked and you know it. It’s why you were drawn to work with kids in the first place. At least you’d always have a leg up on them. Someone out there thought you were sane enough to be rent an apartment and be a licensed prescriber.

Oh. Speaking of.

“Come on. You have a license to prescribe. Just once,” he begs.

“Yeah. No. I think you’ve got me confused with Wilson.”

“You’re much hotter,” he offers.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It got you in my bed.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah. Fair. But that’s as far as it’ll get you. You can be lackadaisical with your license, but I’d like to keep mine until I want to retire.”

“How’d I get with such a goody-two-shoes? Even Wilson will play.”

“He’s not now, apparently. What gives?”

“I bet Cuddy clinic hours that I wouldn’t take Vicodin for a week. They’re all convinced I’m an addict.”

You snort. “Okay. I hate to point it out so bluntly, but this is prime behavior for addiction. Searching all channels to get a fix because you can’t go a week without it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to do the week. But I need someone on standby. I’m only doing the week, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it prescribed afterward.”

“Chronic pain is outside my scope of practice. Best I could do is a suboxone MAT and say I’m detoxing you off Vicodin and keeping your substance use in check, but even that’s pushing it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“You can’t keep the clinical and the personal separate?”

“Nope. Could you? If I was your patient this week, would you be able to? Bringing your ex-girlfriend into this is what got you into this mess. Don’t bring me in to try to fix it.”

“I’m not asking you to fix it. And you have a medical background. I’m asking you to write the order I’m asking for. I know how to manage my pain.”

“Why don’t you get through this week first? Then maybe you’ll take me up on the suboxone,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You think I’m addicted?”

“Jesus Christ, Greg, you’re smarter than this. You know what happens if you consistently take opiates. I know you need them for pain. I’m not denying that. But to think you’re immune to the side effects? It’s habit-forming. You know this. You’ve been taking it for years. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms. You should be doing this in a detox facility if anything.”

“I work in a hospital. Opiate withdrawal never killed anyone, anyway,” he says, seeing no point in bluffing to you any longer.

“Maybe not. But you’ll suffer. I’ll meet you halfway, hm?” You say, looking up at him. “I’ll prescribe you comfort meds for the week. Ease you through it. Mirapex, vistaril, zofran, clonidine, bentyl…”

“Most of those aren’t exactly in your scope. If you want to be technical.”

“If I lose my license for any of those the board has far too much time on their hands. But you’re right. I’ll get Chase to sign them off.”

“Chase?”

“He’s the most desperate to get laid out of the three. I bat my eyelashes enough he won’t even question who the scripts are for.”

“Chase? Look at him. If he’s not getting laid none of us should be.”

You scoff. “I guess pretty boys do it for you, but not for me. But no…I can tell. He reeks of desperation.”

“It’s desperation to be liked by authority. Not desperation for pussy. He’s swimming in it.”

“Okay. We’ll see if he folds,” you say, winking.

Greg sighs. “Is this some kind of game?”

“What isn’t, with you? It’s all games, it’s all puzzles.”

“Why Chase?”

“I told you. I know you’d rather me go to Cameron, but unfortunately, I don’t think flirting would get very far with her. Foreman will never fold.”

“You don’t have other doctors you work with you could ask?”

“Greg, it’s just fucking comfort medications that you probably will have too much pride to even touch. Again. Not risking my career for you and letting people that actually respect me think I’m a nutcase because I slept with you.”

“So… you want to fuck Chase. Right?”

“Where in that insecure little man brain did you think of that? It’s your other head, right? I must want the sexy Australian because all the other girls are doing him? Because I want to ask him to prescribe meds? For you?”

He shrugs. “Matter of time. ‘Oh, I had to blow him, that’s the only way I could get him to do this’ or ‘oh, honey, good news, he said if I sleep with him three times a week he’ll prescribe your Vicodin’.”

“Stop with the immature bullshit. If I wanted to fuck him, I’d just leave you, not worry about the meds, and do it. Grow up, Greg,” you mutter, walking away.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenges, hating himself as the words leave his mouth, hating how unattractively juvenile he was coming across. But there were reasons, the need to push you away to see if he would get pulled back, the need to be contrary, the need to know. Know what, exactly, he’s not sure.

He already knows he’s in for one of the worst weeks of his life. Even if the withdrawal symptoms are mild, he’s going to be in terrible, unmanageable pain, and all the Tylenol and Motrin in the world aren’t going to even come close to touching it. And he’s going to be more miserable than usual. No pain relief. No euphoria from the high when he takes just one… or two… or three extra than he needs. He knows he’s addicted. He tries to roll it off his back, saying it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t change perceptions of him, it’s something he needs for pain, and it doesn’t affect his ability to practice medicine.

But sometimes he’s afraid. When James looks at him in concern but doesn’t offer any solutions because there aren’t any real ones, are there? He needs opiates for pain. Nothing else will work. Whether it’s pure heroin or your gold-standard synthetic hippy bullshit medication-assisted treatment… it’s still an opiate. Naloxone embedded in the pill or not. Having to go to a clinic to get dosed and having to have checks and balances on his use or not. It’s still an opiate. There’s still a stigma. It still pinpoints his pupils, lowers his respiratory rate, and hopefully, hopefully, takes the edge off so he can function but he knows. Addiction isn’t his specialty, he never wanted it to be, but he knows. One day it’ll be his last Vicodin, or the Vicodin won’t work anymore, and hey, you know what’s instantaneous? Spinal morphine. Can only use that card once or twice, have to tell Wilson he’s in excruciating pain and guilt him into enabling. He’ll only go so far. And then…well, then it’s IV heroin or fentanyl, whichever is easier to get, whichever is cheaper.

Greg knows that addiction treatment centers are revolving doors. He knows that you saw the same people back and forth and back and forth sign in and sign out, sign in and sign out. Change their medication plans a million times. And some of them still died anyway.

He’s afraid. He’s afraid of dying by his own hand by accident, alone and blue, nodding off forever. Sometimes he wishes for it, an end to the pain, but he also doesn’t want people to find him like that. A predictable end to a predictable story. World-renowned diagnostician died the same way a poor broke junkie did on the streets. Hooked on drugs, overshot it.

And it’s not that he thinks he’s better than those people. He knows he is those people. Even prior to his disability he dabbled in drugs, never enough to create a habit but enough to definitely indicate the potential of a problem. He’d tried almost every illicit substance “just to see how it felt” by your age. It feels good. Drugs feel good. It’s how they work. And your brain wants to feel good. It’s how they keep working and you keep using.

He knows. He’s in a vicious cycle he’ll never claw his way out of.

And you know it, too.

And yet you’re wasting your time fighting with him instead of walking away.

Why?

He doesn’t know that.

“Yeah. Why don’t I fuck him?” you snark back, turning on your heel and walking back toward him, drawing him out of his pity party and back into the misery he created for no reason other than to drag you down with him, make you choke on it with him. “I don’t want to. That’s why. I want to fuck you, although believe me, that thought is getting less and less appealing every time you open that fucking mouth and speak.”

“It does have better uses,” he quips, shrugging, almost visibly relaxing at hearing he was chosen, that he hadn’t scared you off yet.

You roll your eyes. “When does the detox start?”

“Now. It’s been a couple of hours.”

“So you wanted to kick it off and try to put both of us in a shitty mood to start with? Not your brightest idea, huh?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything and you nod, feeling slightly more in control now that you rendered him silent without any arguments. “Go home. You can’t think clearly if you’re going to be actively detoxing.”

“I still have to make them think I can function without it,” he says after pausing. He would’ve lied to you too, put up a façade with you too, but that’s the thing about addiction. It’s easy to hide dependence to people who don’t know what to look for, but you do. And you would smell it on him.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why take the bet at all?”

“I’ll get out of clinic hours.”

“Right. You would never do something like this to prove a point,” you say sarcastically, leading him out of the office. —————- “Why are you with him?” Chase asks. “And you care enough about him to ask me to use my medical license for a script.”

“You’ll see I don’t care enough about him to risk using mine,” you counter. “It’s comfort meds. Just write the scripts and I’ll leave you alone and we can go back to never talking, which is honestly how I prefer it.”

“I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I’ve heard enough, though.”

“Does he… what does he say about me?” he asks, a look between bewildered and terrified crossing his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Forget I said anything. You’re fine, I’m sure, I just don’t want to be entangled in the team. I already work with Wilson. One facet of House’s life needs to be separate from me.”

“Right. So you’re asking me to prescribe him medications.”

“As a doctor. Which is your job,” you point out. You sigh, looking at the pretty blond man sitting in front of you. Maybe Greg was right to be afraid. Most women your age would be begging to spread their legs at the thought of carrying this man's children. He's more stable, at least comes off that way, and he doesn't have an addiction and a crippled leg.

“Why stay with him if you know he’s an addict?”

Why are you staying?

You look at him for a second, reading his face. “You hate people that struggle with addiction, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them. I just think they don’t realize the pain they cause and it’s unfair to the sober people in their life.”

“Everyone is someone’s burden,” you say.

But why did you take him on?

“So you think he’s going to detox.”

“I know he’s going to detox. Which is why. Once again. I’m asking you to prescribe him comfort medication for the aforementioned detox.”

“You guys really like each other, huh?”

Why did he take you on?

“No. I want my week to not be miserable. This might lessen it a little bit.”

“Oh, and you’re deflecting just like he would.”

“Just prescribe me the damn meds, Chase.”

“You’re going to be miserable anyway,” he says, shrugging as he takes out his script pad. “You owe me one.”

You know he's not wrong.

“Yeah. You’ll get a psych consult on the house,” you agree.

“Why’d you ask me?”

You sigh. “Can’t ask Wilson. Too close. So it had to be one of you three. Foreman just wouldn’t. Cameron would ask me too many questions and she’d tell everybody.”

“And me?”

“Process of elimination, really. Thank you, you know," you say, deciding to leave out the part where he gets off on sucking metaphorical dick for the chance at appealing to authority. Sometimes you wish you were as crass as House. You come up with some good ones if you could only find the guts to just say them.

“He’s not going to take them.”

“Probably not. But I’m doing my part.”

“As what? His girlfriend?”

“His… friend,” you clarify, and you walk out of the office with the scripts in tow to fill at the pharmacy. Later you hand them to him and he takes them without a word. He opens all the bottles, takes one of each pill in his hand and he pops them dry. Terrible for his esophagus, you tell him, and he mutters something about how he’s wrecked his liver and everything else has to catch up. He opens a bottle of wine and you lean against his chest, barely processing the cheap soap opera flashing in front of you on the TV. He's already sweating, you can feel his shirt damp against your cheek. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he made a show of taking all those pills in front of you. Maybe to show your efforts were appreciated without having to say the words, even if he thought it was stupid. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to make this all suck less. Maybe it was because this was bending the rules a little, a detox with help, however minor, and he always wanted to see how far he could push before the consequences could roll in. Let’s cheat a little. Instead of a slice of pizza on a diet let’s have a hydroxyzine in a cold turkey detox.

He asked you to come over tonight but he hasn’t said much of anything or initiated much either. Why does he want you here? To know he’s not alone this time, that you’re willing to face the brunt of this pain with him when it returns, like Stacy was unwilling to?

You don’t know.

You don’t want to know. It’s best he keeps that information in his own head where it belongs. You don’t want to get too attached, too close, too entangled. This is fine how it is.

But you still wake up drenched in sweat that isn’t yours.

#house md x reader #house x reader #greg house x reader #gregory house x reader #greg house x you #house x you #gregory house x you #house md #house md fanfiction

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enigma-im · 7 months

Text

Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Alien x F!Human Warnings: alien sex, space force, weird alien sex, sex cocoon, zero gravity sex

Word Count: 5,599

Brother works at Space Force, so it's not uncommon for aliens to stop by. Though this one is a bit cute.

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I can only stare at the tall dark figure hiding in my kitchen. It seems that's all the figure can do as well. Trapped in a standoff. My heart races a mile a minute, never expecting to have company so late at night. I slowly reach for the light switch, careful with any sudden movements. As the room becomes clear I finally see what's standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Oh," I gawk. Before me is an incredibly tall alien, equipped with long lanky limbs, odd head-shape, and spikes barely visible behind their back. An honest-to-God alien is standing in my kitchen. "I'll take it you are looking for my brother," I ask as I casually walk over to the fridge.

It's the alien's turn to gawk," Uh, yes. Is he here?"

I look through the fridge for the pitcher of sweet tea, spotting it on the top shelf. "No, he is on his way back from his friend's place though. Should be in within the hour if you wanted to wait around. Up to you."

I set the pitcher on the table and then reach for a cup on the hook. I look up to the alien as I pour, hinting at him to answer.

He stumbles," Right, if that's ok with you. I'd hate to impose."

I wave him off," No worries. It's part of the gig living here. You aren't the first or the last alien I'll see around here. Though you are here very late." I sip from my cup, lounging against the counter.

"So sorry, It was very important. Otherwise, I would have waited until morning. I know how long humans sleep but I believe I got the math a bit wrong. Do you always sleep at night or every other day," He rambles. I smile into my cup, he's cute.

"Every night, though it's a give and take on what time of the night," I shrug," ten at night is one of those give and take times. I was actually heading to bed now."

He startles at the answer," Oh then I am so sorry! Please, don't let me keep you. I know how important sleep is for your kind."

I snicker," Don't be sorry. You will never find me passing up an opportunity to speak with an alien while in my PJs." He leans over and looks me from head to toe, eyes wide and mouth parted. Am I being checked out right now? I poke a foot forward to show off my slippers.

"Well you look professional enough for me," He shrugs," you wouldn't mind keeping me company then?"

"It would truly be my pleasure," I hang at the end waiting for a name. He doesn't pick up on it. "I'm Liya, by the way," I prompt instead.

"Hello, Liya," he practically purrs," My name is Pavo L'tun'ku, 2nd in command of human relations aboard S.L. Quain."

"Oh, I didn't know we were doing all that," I half tease. I straight up, setting my cup down," I am Liya Woodard, in charge of the distribution of goods across the entirety of the USA." I relax and reach for my cup with a smirk," How was that?"

He leans onto his forearms," Little too formal but I appreciate the effort."

"Oh hush, I was just coping you," I joke back.

We get to chatting for a bit before my brother makes his way home. Pavo goes regal at his entrance, as does my brother. It's like watching someone talk to the president. I could almost see the red tape go up for appropriate interspecies conversation that aligns with government protocol.

"Woodard," Pavo greets," Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed. There is an issue regarding a certain rebel group at one of our events."

"Very well," Thomas answers all professional, it almost makes me laugh, " give me just a moment to change and we will leave post haste."

Thomas scoots past and quickly bolts up the steps. I look over to Pavo who has relaxed a little.

"Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed," I mock Pavo, even standing the way he did. He glares over at me half-heartedly.

"Shut up," He smiles. I laugh.

Thomas is quick, already downstairs before I can chat with Pavo a little more. To my dismay. Thomas grabs his keys from the hook and looks back at me.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Uh," He looks around," Be good?"

"Be good? You be good," I scoff. He rolls his eyes before heading for the door. Pavo looks around and then points at me.

"Be good," he mimics Thomas.

"See you around, Pavo," I tiredly wave. He gives me a big ole alien smile full of teeth before heading out. I smile to myself, feeling a little giddy. I head to bed, not before thinking back.

He really was cute.

It's a while before I hear anything of Pavo. It's surprising when I do hear about him through my brother. We are sitting in for dinner, which is rare, and we are discussing our day when he pauses and glares at me.

Pointing his fork at me he says," You ruined my professional relationship!"

I gawk, pointing at myself in question.

"Yes, you," he chuckles," Pavo won't shut up about you."

I jokingly twirl my hair as I lean forward on the table, "Do you, like, think that he, like, likes me?" I say in my best high schooler voice.

"ew,," he cringes, reaching over and stealing from my plate," For making me hear that."

"rude," I answer, missing stealing back my food by a hair," So what's up with Pavo, why is he bugging you?"

He sighs," It's every day. He thinks he is being casual about it but the man is super obvious. I don't know what voodoo you put on him but the guy is smitten. Before I tell him anything I wanted to make sure you are cool with meeting him again."

I snicker," is big brother setting me up on a date?"

He fake gags," Disgusting. Horrific, downright awful. Consider it this way, I'm trying to keep Pavo out of my office so I can work."

"and keep him in my pants, got it," I nod. He pretends to vomit, though it looks very convincing.

"Nope, conversation over," He stacks up his dishes and heads to the kitchen," This never happened!"

I bite back a laugh," I appreciate you butting into my love life but I'd appreciate if you didn't"

"Well keep your love life out of my office," He yells back. He comes back into the dining room, holding the doorframe. "He is coming over tomorrow for a meeting, and he may have some extra time because he is getting here an hour early because I may or may not have given him the wrong time. I'm not saying I did, but you do owe me two tickets for my movie date next week with Rebecca."

I sigh," Send me the info and I'll get it to you." I want to argue but the idea of seeing Pavo again is too grand.

"Nice, you have dishes right," He runs off before I can answer," Thank you!"

Such a putz, but I can't focus on that. It seems I have a mini-date tomorrow.

I dress midway between casual and date night. It was a very hard combo to pull off but I'm working with the 'hot but cool' angle. However, none of this could matter because he is an alien who hasn't a clue what is considered "trying to look cute" flirting is. Ugh, this is hard.

I wait in the living room, trying to seem as relaxed as possible. I even practice little greetings in my head like an idiot. Thomas comes down the stairs in his service uniform, looking proper. It is interesting to think this wild teenager could grow up to be this proper young man, helping lead the charge in cross-universe communication with alien life.

"Hey, dipshit, he will be over in 10, stop looking so tense," He leans over the back of the couch and boops my nose.

Well, almost a proper young man.

The doorbell rings shortly after, and Thomas answers. I can hear Pavo from the living room and I can't help but get all giddy. I scold myself for the reaction, I had one conversation with the guy! Relax!

As I hear their voices near I stand from the couch, regretting the choice immediately. Stand when guests are over? It's not even technically my guest, but I guess it's polite.

Pavo rounds the corner and is now in sight. In the daylight, I can tell his body isn't black but a very dark purple. He doesn't have skin but a carapace, a hard shell protecting his body. He is very bug-like though he lacks any pinchers or antennae. His face is human-ish, his eyes are large, and his wide mouth. Spikes go along the back of his body, coming from his head and back. They are short but some stretch out long enough to bend and crick in different ways. It's almost like branches.

When Pavo sees me he pauses, eyes wide and a smile up his cheeks. He looks me over and with a jolt his spikes elongate, nearly catching Thomas in the face.

"Whoa," Thomas yelps.

"Hello again, Liya," Pavo greets, ignoring Thomas.

"Hello Pavo," I answer back," Long time no see."

"Long time indeed, I see you have upgraded from professional sleepwear," He teases.

"This old thing," I shrug," I think my oversized t-shirt works a bit better but I was told I may be entertaining guests today."

"you wouldn't mean me, would you," He asks, leaning against the couch. Behind him, I can see my brother miming choking, then pretending to stab himself with a knife. The drama queen.

"I'm going to set up," Thomas interjects into our conversation," Feel free to anything you want in the kitchen, just ask my sister here."

Pavo straightens," Oh, yes, thank you."

Thomas leaves us to our own devices, it feels like our chaperone left. I look Pavo over, watching the sun gleam off his shell. His uniform is interesting, bright white.

"Would you care for a drink," I break the silence.

"Yes please," He steps closer. I lead the way into the kitchen.

"Anything you want? I really don't know what would be edible for you," I ask, cringing a bit at the delivery.

"I was incredibly curious about the drink you had the other night, it smelled sweet," He answers, pointing to the fridge.

"Sweet tea," I ask, though it's pointless. How would he know the answer? "Let me grab you a little sample. Though a fair warning, it's incredibly sweet. Practically icing."

"Oh, even better," he takes a seat at the island as I grab a drink," I've been lured in with your human sugar. It's been incredible. I had those, umm, what's the name? The small brown bars with a wafer inside."

"Kit-kat or Twix," I ask as I pour a small glass. ," I ask

He clicks deep in his throat," Yes, that's it! The Kit bar." He grabs the glass I push to him, taking a small gulp timidly. In a moment he shoots back the whole thing. Setting the glass down he closes his eyes and savors the sweet syrup.

"Like it," I ask.

"Love it," He grins. Slowly opening his eyes he nudges the glass forward, "More, please?"

We chat a little between cups of tea, him chugging the rest of my full pitcher. He tells me about his home that he hasn't seen in years. I tell him about my life at college before I got my job. It's pleasant. If I didn't know any better though, I'd say his spikes we growing. About an hour later they had grown a few inches, making him look large and intimidating. Like some sort of tree monster outside my childhood window. Though that one was just an old oak while this one is a charming alien.

Thomas steals him away, not before Pavo extends an invite to his ship sometime. Invited onto an alien's ship, that sounds like a great start to some interspecies relations.

Thomas had managed to set up communication between Pavo and me. We chat on some app Thomas downloaded onto my phone. It's wonky and not the best but what's a girl to do? Pavo and I flirt a bit, though it never goes any deeper. Despite my best attempts, he just doesn't get into anything more sexual. I could be pushing too hard or their species just doesn't work that way. Maybe he doesn't even have sex?

Today though is the day to finally get on his ship. All the approval has been submitted- thank you, Thomas- and we begin a tour of his home away from home.

We meet at the airlock between his ship and the Space Hub for Earth. I'm escorted by some officers and we all greet each other on the bridge. When I see Pavo we both light up. His back branches are stretched out, looking truly like a tree now. He jerks a little as his spikes snap outwards tearing some of his uniform in the process. The officer next to me winces at the crack sound that comes softly from him. Almost like the quiet sound of someone popping their fingers.

"Hello, Liya," Pavo greets, grabbing my hand and giving a firm shake," I believe this is correct."

I shake his hand back," Little formal for friends but it works for now."

"Friends," he asks," are we friends?"

"For the time being," I hint. He smiles before greeting the two flanking me.

With that out of the way, I'm free to venture into the unknown. I feel like a pioneer, one of the few to venture into an alien's ship. I'm sure sometime in the future there will be museums for this sort of thing. 'Explore space right from earth' sign over a decommissioned spaceship. I chuckle to myself.

Pavo eagerly shows me around, explaining how this was his own personal ship that only a few of the higher-ups get. It attaches comfortably to the main HQ but can detach for personal exploration, pretty much an RV for space. A really spacious RV.

He shows me the dining room, the living space, the exercise room, and we pass by his bedroom. We don't look in as it's casually mentioned.

As we walk down the halls I slow back to catch a look at his back, all the spikey branches protruding out. I feel tempted to reach out and touch but worry about being taboo.

"Hey," I say instead," what's with the spikes?"

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at me and then at his branches," Oh theses? It's kind of hard to explain."

"They aren't like, some puberty thing, right," I tease.

"No, nothing like that. It's normal given the circumstances," He answers.

"Well puberty is completely normal," I joke. He shakes his head at me, beginning to walk again.

"Come, I want to show you something." I follow him down the winding halls to a room we haven't seen yet. He enters a command and the doors open. I walk inside, eager to explore this new space. Though I'm let down. I look this way and that, seeing nothing of interest. Really nothing of anything. It's just a large open room. There is a large window that stretches from the floor past the ceiling. It's gorgeous, being able to see Earth just coming into view.

"Oh wow," I whisper. I walk ahead, completely enamored with the view. The stars are so plentiful, Earth is so big. I can see the swirls of clouds over the continents, the white of the Arctic, the blue of the sea. It's all so humbling, I feel so small.

I hear some clicks behind me, and before I can investigate I feel my stomach drop. Weightlessness overtakes me, my feet slowly rising above the ground. I twist to look over at Pavo who is also floating.

"Zero gravity room, though the whole ship could be zero gravity. This room is made specifically for that," Pavo answers. He twists to push off the wall and launch towards me. I can't stop the giggle bubbling out of me as he gets closer. Before he can reach me I push up towards the ceiling. He thuds against the window, growling playfully.

"why does someone need a zero gravity room," I ask as we continue our game of chase. He jumps up to me and I quickly pick a direction and throw myself to it. I bang against the door oh so gracefully.

"It's for health and pleasure," He answers," we spend some time in water, our body is used to a certain level of weightlessness. Though space has way less gravity than water, it still feels similar. So in an easier way of explaining it, it feels like home."

Pavo scrambles to get to where I am, scratching against the wall to stop his momentum when I high-tail it in the other direction.

"Homesick room, how cute," I tease. I get trapped in the corner of the room, the only way out is up. As I spring upwards, Pavo catches me. I'm held tightly against his hard body, laughing with him as we float to the ceiling.

"Got you," He smiles triumphantly.

"that is true, but the real question is...what are you going to do with me," I flirt. He purrs at the insinuation, leaning down to brush his head against mine. I close my eyes and take a leap, kissing him ever so softly. He pauses, confused but excited. He makes his own attempt at a kiss, pressing his mouth to mine stiffly.

"Is that correct," He asks.

"relax a little," I advise. Wrapping my arms around his neck, nestling them around his branches, I kiss him like I mean it. He kisses less stiffly than before, though he can't help being so hard. His arms fall from my back to around the back of my thighs. He squeezes and massages my thick legs, pulling me closer.

"you're so soft," he groans into my mouth," so pliant."

"Don't make it sound so bad," I joke. His chest rumbles, his back spikes pop, a low clicking sound emits from his mouth. He reaches behind me and anchors us to the wall before he attacks my mouth again. I give him a little treat, sliding my tongue on to lick him. He stumbles a bit, recovering quickly to nearly choke me with his tongue. I have to lean back to catch my breath, though the thrumming in my body proves how much I enjoyed that.

No longer having access to the new toy called my mouth he begins attacking my neck. I can hardly keep my eyes open as I'm seduced by this big alien. I scratch at his back, gripping onto his branch. He responds by biting me, a little harder than needed. I grab the spike from his head to yank him back.

"Soft skin, remember," I scold. He looks drunk, his eyes lidded and mouth open. He looks me over, squeezing my legs again.

"By the heavens, I want to devour you," he whines. A zap goes down my spine in fear and pleasure.

"Not literally, right," I ask just in case. He doesn't answer, instead flopping his head down to bite up my neck. He sneaks a hand between us to stretch my shirt. I hear the thread snap as he stretches the collar over my shoulder. His entire mouth slobbers over me, sucking and licking every bit of skin. I glance behind him, seeing the branches have stretched out into the room. The few close to the wall have begun to take root, spreading out around the wall like vines.

Well, that's interesting.

Pavo bites a bit hard again to my dismay, I can feel a few of his teeth pierce my skin. With a yelp, I tear him back to properly scold him. He looks debauched, utterly drunk and horny.

"whoa," I gasp," you ok?"

His head tilts to the side in answer, "Get your clothes off."

I hesitate," But are you ok?"

He growls," I will be when you get your clothes off."

"Geez," I begin taking my shirt off," so pushy."

He scoffs," so slow." He begins to unbutton his clothes, finding it hard to do as his body is anchored to the wall. He yanks, detaching the vines from the metal. As he yanks his shirt, tearing it completely off his back, the branches begin reaching out to the wall again, gluing themselves once more.

I'm working my pants off when he grabs me, my jeans barely hanging onto one ankle. His torn shirt drifts upwards past us. I look down between us, his pants mostly torn. His cock surprises me, not prepared to see him in all his glory. Holding himself I can't help admire.

There is no way else to say it, his dick is a tentacle. It seems like a few spiraled around each other like yarn to present as one single mass. It's pink and purple, a kind of spray paint space vibe. He squeezes himself, fluid leaking from between each tentacle. It coats his hand, drops drifting off in the zero Gs.

"whoa," I whisper, reaching out to him. He proudly presents, his chest rumbling and mouth clicking. I gently graze my fingers over him, letting a few floating drops land on my outstretched hand. He jerks a little at the feather touch, grabbing my hand and forcing me to hold him. My stomach does flips, he is so soft and squishy. It's like touching a thick cord of fabric, soft but just firm enough to hold shape. I squeeze, wringing out more drops as I pull to the tip. He purrs, his back branches reaching out more and making his body jerk.

Too fascinated with him I don't even notice when he moves his hand into my underwear. His other hand fondling my breast, though they don't keep his attention much as the slickness below. He investigates, poking and prodding as I investigate him. Everything is so different for us both, it's all so tantalizing.

"you're so warm," he groans, reaching in to shove a finger inside. I shudder.

"you're so soft," I squeeze him, relishing in the sounds he makes. I can't help but reach for a kiss, just basking in all the sensations and sounds. His fingers squelch as he puts two into me.

"you're going to take me so well," he nearly whispers," I couldn't imagine someone more perfect."

I kiss him again," you flirt." I squeeze his cock. His fingers stretch and glide, making the coil in my belly tighten and twitch. If only he would touch me where I need him. I buck my hips into him, whimpering against his lips. I forget he isn't a human man, someone who could potentially get the hint. Instead, I reach down and grab his hand. He freezes. I slide his fingers out of me, another shudder going up my back, and guide one of his fingers up. He barely grazes me and it's like lightning.

"What's this," He asks, abandoning my mouth to look between us. I squeeze him in defiance, he grunts.

"Touch me there," I whimper," please."

He needs no more instructions, stroking me timidly before gaining confidence. He is a changed man now, watching me whine and moan as he gets me off. He is enraptured with me, watching and waiting. I can't focus as my inside feels like electricity, like sparks coming from his hand. More. More. More. I'm almost there. I hold onto him, using him as an anchor as he keeps playing me like a fiddle. My legs wrap around his, like snakes intertwined. Just a little more. His cold carapace against my feet, his rumbling purr and clicks, the way he just wants to make me cum. It's all so much.

"Pavo," I yelp," oh, fuck."

I'm gone. I fall into bliss, debauched as he was a moment ago. I scratch at his body, not worried about hurting him. I curl into him, reaching between us to stop his ministration as they become too much. I bang my head into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. He grabs my hair, pulling me back just to watch.

"Beautiful," He grins so wide. I give a half-hearted smile, still lost to the wind. I don't notice when he adjusts me to himself, but I definitely notice when he is poking at my entrance. I sober, looking down as his cock unfurrows. The little appendages search around, grabbing at my thighs and poking at my lips. I take a courageous breath, a little terrified of what's about to happen. He twists back into one, the ends still split to make their way into me.

I choke as he stuffs me, his cock twisting and curling, pulsing within me. I'm having sex with an alien, the thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I look from the display that has disappeared inside me to the creature I've decided to lay with. He looks so beautiful. He can't focus, his mouth opening and closing as the clicking sounds more like pops. He damn near gurgles as his eyes close. He snaps his hips, both of us stuttering on a breath. I twine my arms around him and he wastes no time pressing me close. He cradles the back of my head, his other arm securely around my lower back.

Without a starting pistol, he is off. Completely secure in place he pounds into me like a desperate man, angling my hips with his arm on my back. I can do nothing but hold on, groaning in his ear. I get to watch the branches on his back snap and jolt outwards. Every single one finds purchase on the walls. They take root, running up and around the walls until they meet each other, making a beautiful lattice on the walls.

"Wow," I gasp between moans. He answers with a pained grunt, burying his head into my neck. His mouth opens to attempt to bite but he thinks better of it, instead sucking on my neck. I appreciate the forethought. He whimpers and whines, every most the lost whore beside my ear. It's a pleasure in itself to have someone so lost in you, so pleasured by your body. I hold him tighter

"Agh," he gurgles. He begins to speak in tongues, the words ever lost to me but the meaning coming through. He is fucked, coming to his end, and only at the mercy of his whims now. Oh, I want him to cum, I wanna feel it.

I snuggle into the side of his neck, the plates shifting as he twists his head away. I find a soft area just below his jaw, right below his ear. I find purchase and bite as hard as I can. He screams, the branches on his back bucking as they dramatically grow. I worry I've hurt him, I was only returning the favor. I pull away, feeling sorry for myself. He growls in answer, punishing me with a hard slam onto his cock. He pushes me back to his neck.

"Harder," he growls through clenched teeth," make it hurt."

Oh my.

I cozy up to him again, finding the same teeth indent I left before, and chomp down. He shouts again, more words I can't interpret. I bite hard, I bite until I hear his plates crack and my teeth sink into the soft part of his skin. He shudders, curling around me and pumping into me in quick bursts.

"Yes," he says like a prayer. Before I know it I feel him shake and sputter, gurgling again as he snaps into me one more time. It's warm and plentiful, I'm sure it's a mess below. Zero gravity surely making it look like a spectacle. Pavo holds me so dear, so spent.

I slowly pry my teeth from his neck, spitting out a few little bits of carapace. Ew. I lean back to look into my new lover's eyes. He barely moves, looking like he passed out. I grab the short spikes on his head, lifting him to look at me.

"Pavo," I panic," is this normal? I haven't a single clue."

He answers with a gurgle. Not helpful. I try to wiggle away from him but I can't move. I look around and see we are cocooned in a growing ball of branches.

"What," I ask as I look around. I try to wiggle out of his arms but he holds on. Tight for someone who is basically asleep. I panic, fighting hard against his grip. Only succeeding in moving up him a few inches.

"Pavo," I snap," let me out."

He groans, happy to just float in this weird ball of his own making.

"Pavo," I shout. His face pinches.

"Hush," he finally speaks," be still."

"Be still? How do you expect me to do that right now? I'm covered in cum, and my sweat is bubbling off of me. I'd like to experience gravity again," I snap. He finally opens his eyes, glaring at me. I glare back. He relents, shifting his arms with great effort. I wiggle away from him, floating up. I navigate around his branches, finding my way to the door. I pause at the controls.

"Press the orange one," Pavo says helpfully. I press the orange button. I fall to my feet, my legs giving out. Then there is a loud sound of cracking like a tree falling. I look up to see Pavo falling from his fort. All the branches snap and break apart from the weight of themselves. He falls onto his back, the ball crashing around him though the fall isn't so loud. More like Styrofoam hitting the floor.

"Ow, "Pavo deadpans. I can't help but laugh. I get to my feet and walk over to him, picking up my pants along the way. Sliding them on I crouch beside him, picking up one of the branches. It's surprisingly light.

"What are these," I ask, turning it every which way. It's porous, with little holes that are barely noticeable.

"My anchors," he answers," it's a whole thing."

"Is it for what we just did," I ask. He shrugs.

" mostly. Though it's not exclusively. Just makes a lot of things easier in the water," he answers.

"Like sex?"

He grins to himself, "Yes, like sex."

I clear a space beside him, lying down to look at the portion of the window that covers the ceiling.

"I have some more questions," I say as I clasp my hands on my stomach. He lazily raises a hand and flourishes to make me continue. "Explain the branches, please."

He sighs," It's mostly a sex thing. When we first met I was immediately enamored. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Then I saw you and I couldn't stop myself. I wanted you. So my spikes got ready. My species loves the spikes, it's a whole fertility thing. I was showing them off, looking all big for you."

"You were flirting with the tree branches coming out your back," I joke.

"Sure," he laughs," I knew I had to have you. I never knew it would be like that! I made a nest for you and everything. I wish someone told me it would be so...everything"

"Talking like a virgin," I poke. He doesn't laugh. I look over and he is serious. I sit up," are- were you a virgin?"

He winces," define virgin."

I bolt up, standing and pacing the room. "Oh my god, I took your virginity! I took an ALIEN'S virginity?"

Pavo sits up, stopping me with a hand on my ankle. "Why are you so freaked out?"

"Freaked out? I'm just surprised and I totally did you dirty. If I knew it was your first time I would have made it more romantic. I mean who would guess you were a virgin," I drop my head in my hands, shaking from side to side.

"Well it's to be expected," he shrugs," we only have one person we do it with."

My heart stops, "what?"

"My kind mates for life, I mean most aliens do. It's a survival thing. Doesn't your kind," he asks.

"No," I basically screech, " we do not do that! If we did, definitely not after like 2 dates!"

He stumbles on his thoughts, his face pinching inquisitively.

"I could have sworn you guys mated for life," he collapses on his back," what would you like to do now?"

I ponder that for a moment. What is there to do? He just committed himself to me forever. I have the option to leave but that just screws him over. Also, I still like the idiot.

I groan, walking over and lying down beside him.

"You better pray this will just be a funny story we tell people when we get old," I grumble.

"Don't be so dramatic, everything will be fine," he tugs me closer.

"It better," I cozy into his side," all that's left is telling my brother."

Pavo barks a laugh," I can't imagine the paperwork he has for this!"

----------------------------------

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the 2nd October story. After this month I will be on a hiatus once again.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog| Ko-Fi

#exophilia #enigma-im #monster boyfriend #fluff #monster lover #alien x human #alien boyfriend #space force

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Glenda Farrell (We're in the Money, The Mystery of the Wax Museum, I've Got Your Number)— Susan Slept Here is a terrible no good very bad movie but somehow she gets even hotter as she ages

Dolores del Rio (Flying Down to Rio, Flor silvestre)—to begin with, dolores is so RADIANTLY BEAUTIFUL, even more so in action then in images, its like she emits a literal glow. marlene dietrich (a close friend and rumored lover) considered her "the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in hollywood". she was the first mexican actress to become a major success in hollywood, rising to fame in the silent era and becoming an influential icon of beauty and glamor in the art deco age, though she was not thrilled with the exoticizing parts often pushed on her. in the mid 1940s having tired of the controlling hollywood studio system she returned to mexico, saying "I wish to choose my own stories, my own director and cameraman. I can accomplish this better in mexico", and proceeded to become a pivotal figure in the golden age of mexican cinema, making a string of masterpieces with directir emilio fernández and cinematographer gabriel figueroa. i love this anecdote about the insane art deco mansion she and her then-husband cedric gibbons lived in in the 30s, as related by david niven: "Dolores had a large sunny room on the first floor containing a huge and inviting bed. Gibbons lived in comparative squalor in a small room immediately below. The only connection between these rooms was by way of a stepladder, which could be lowered only when a trapdoor in the floor of Dolores room had been raised. There was a long stick with which, we conjectured, he signaled his intention or hopes by rapping out signals on the floor of his wife’s bedchamber." heres a pinterest album with a billion hot pictures of her

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Dolores del Rio:

There's so much! She started in Silent films and successfully transitioned to sound, She is the first woman to wear a two piece swimsuit on screen & popularized the bikini!, She transitioned back to Mexican Cinema in the late 1940s and was a leading lady of the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema including staring in Maria Candelaria--the first Mexican film to win the palm d'Or at Cannes. She was literally studied for her beauty & was considered a beauty ideal in both the USA & Mexico--there's a whole section on her Wikipedia page about how beautiful everyone thinks she was. She never actually had a feud with any of the female stars she was rumored to feud with despite the fact that press & Hollywood culture attempted to pain them in competition... She remained a leader in Mexican theater & Cinema through her own production company. Mexican painter Diego Rivera: "The most beautiful, the most gorgeous of the west, east, north and south. I'm in love with her as 40 million Mexicans and 120 million Americans who can't be wrong" (quote source: Wikipedia)

*fan self* Leading actress in silents and early Hollywood. Lover of Orson Welles until she got fed up with him, friend of Diego Rivera and Frieda Kahlo. When she got tired of Hollywood executives typecasting her as a stereotypical spitfire (and trying to force her to feud with Lupe Velez as a publicity stunt), she ditched Hollywood and became a major star of Mexican cinema, where she got to play rounded characters

Had a career in American cinema in the 20s and 30s and considered one of the most important figures in the Golden Age of Mexican cinema (30s to 50s).

Marlene Dietrich said Dolores was the most beautiful woman to set foot in Hollywood

Joan Crawford: "Dolores became, and remains, as one of the most beautiful stars in the world."

One of the few Latin American women working in the Hollywood industry to make it big not just in hre home country but internationally. In 1931, Photoplay magazine declared that Mexican film actress Dolores del Rio had the "best figure in Hollywood." (which I know not necessarily a good barometer) but! it shows that many people looked at her for her beauty and sought to emulate her. Famous for her years-long love affair with actor and director Orson Welles, who was 10 years her junior if that's anything.

We need more hispanic representation in this!! Del Río is one of the most important actresses of her time as she was one of the first Mexican movie stars to break through to Hollywood! She’s unbelievably sexy and an absolute icon. Thank you :)

#dolores del rio #glenda farrell #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

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Kickstarting the "Chokepoint Capitalism" audiobook

My next book is Chokepoint Capitalism, co-written with the brilliant copyright expert Rebecca Giblin: it’s an action-oriented investigation into how tech and entertainment monopolies have destroyed creators’ livelihoods, with detailed, shovel-ready plans to unrig creative labor markets and get artists paid.

http://www.beacon.org/Chokepoint-Capitalism-P1856.aspx

Ironically, the very phenomenon this book describes — “chokepoint capitalism” — is endemic to book publishing, and in audiobook publishing, it’s in its terminal phase. There’s no way to market an audiobook to a mass audience without getting trapped in a chokepoint, which is why we’re kickstarting a direct-to-listener edition:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/chokepoint-capitalism-an-audiobook-amazon-wont-sell

What is “chokepoint capitalism?” It’s when a multinational monopolist (or cartel) locks up audiences inside a system that they control, and uses that control to gouge artists, creating toll booths between creators and their audiences.

For example, take Audible: the Amazon division controls the vast majority of audiobook sales in the world — in some genres, they have a 90%+ market-share. Audible requires every seller — big publishers and self-publishers alike — to use their proprietary DRM as a condition of selling on the platform.

That’s a huge deal. DRM is useless at preventing copyright infringement (all of Audible’s titles can be downloaded for free from various shady corners of the internet), but it is wildly effective at locking in audiences and seizing power over creators. Under laws like the USA’s Digital Millennium Copyright Act, giving someone a tool to remove DRM is a felony, punishable by 5 years in prison and a $500k fine.

This means that when you sell your audiobooks on Audible, you lock them to Audible’s platform…forever. If another company offers you a better deal for your creative work and you switch, your audience can’t follow you to the new company without giving up all the audiobooks they’ve bought to date. That’s a lot to ask of listeners!

Amazon knows this: as their power over creators and publishers has grown, the company has turned the screw on them, starting with the most powerless group, the independent creators who rely on Amazon’s self-serve ACX system to publish their work.

In late 2020, a group of ACX authors discovered that Amazon had been systematically stealing their wages, to the tune of an estimated $100,000,000. The resulting Audiblegate scandal has only gotten worse since, and while the affected authors are fighting back, they’re hamstrung by Amazon’s other unfair practices, like forcing creators to accept binding arbitration waivers on their way through the chokepoint:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/03/somebody-will/#acx

I have always had a no-DRM policy for my ebooks and audiobooks. Amazon’s Kindle store — another wildly dominant part of the books ecosystem — has always allowed authors to choose whether or not to apply DRM, but in Audible — where Amazon had a commanding lead from the start, thanks to their anti-competitive acquisition of the formerly independent Audible company — it is mandatory.

Because Audible won’t carry my DRM-free audiobooks, audiobook publishers won’t pay for them. I don’t blame them — being locked out of the market where 90%+ of audiobooks are sold is a pretty severe limitation. For a decade now, I’ve produced my own audiobooks, using amazing narrators like @wilwheaton, Amber Benson and @neil-gaiman.

These had sold modestly-but-well, recouping my cash outlays to fairly compensate the readers, directors and engineers involved, but they were still niche products, sold at independent outlets like Libro.fm, Downpour, and my own online storefront:

https://craphound.com/shop

But that all changed in 2020, with the publication of Attack Surface, an adult standalone novel set in the world of my bestselling YA series Little Brother. That time, I decided to use Kickstarter to pre-sell the audio- and ebooks and see if my readers would help me show other creators that we could stand up to Audible’s bullying.

Holy shit, did it ever work. The Kickstarter for the Attack Surface audiobook turned into the most successful audiobook crowdfunding campaign in world history, grossing over $267,000:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/attack-surface-audiobook-for-the-third-little-brother-book

Which brings me to today, and our new Kickstarter for Chokepoint Capitalism. We produced an independent audiobook, tapping the incomparable Stefan Rudnicki (winner of uncountable awards, narrator of 1000+ books, including Ender’s Game) to read it.

We’re preselling the audiobook ($20), ebook ($15), hardcover ($27), and bundles mixing and matching all three (there’s also bulk discounts). There’s also the option to buy copies that we’ll donate to libraries on your behalf. We’ve got pins and stickers — and, for five lucky high-rollers, we’ve got a very special artwork called: “The Annotated Robert Bork.”

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/chokepoint-capitalism-an-audiobook-amazon-wont-sell

Robert Bork was the far-right extremist who convinced Ronald Reagan to dismantle antitrust protection in America, and then exported the idea to the rest of the world (Reagan tried to reward him with a Supreme Court seat, but Bork’s had been Nixon’s Solicitor General and his complicity in Nixon’s crimes cost him the confirmation).

Bork’s dangerous antitrust nonsense destroyed the world as we knew it, giving us the monopolies that have wrecked the climate, labor protections and political integrity. These monopolies have captured every sector of the economy — from beer and pro-wrestling to health insurance and finance:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

“The Annotated Robert Bork” is a series of five shadow-boxes containing two-page spreads excised from Bork’s 1978 pro-monopoly manifesto

The Antitrust Paradox

, which we have mounted on stiff card and hand-annotated with our red pens. The resulting package is a marvel of museum glass and snark.

[Image ID: A prototype of ‘The Annotated Robert Bork]

Bork’s legacy is monopolistic markets in every sector of the world’s economy, including the creative industries. Chokepoint Capitalism systematically explores how tech and entertainment giants have rigged music streaming, newspapers, book publishing, the film industry, TV, video streaming, and others, steadily eroding creators’ wages even as their work generated more money for the monopolists’ shareholders.

But just as importantly, our book proposes things we can do right now to unrig creative labor markets. Drawing on both existing, successful projects and promising new experiments, we set out shovel-ready ideas for creators, artists’ groups, fans, technologists, startups, and local, regional and national governments.

Artists aren’t in this struggle alone. As we write in the book, chokepoint capitalism is the final stage of high-tech capitalism, which atomizes workers and locks in customers and then fleeces workers as a condition of reaching their audiences. It’s a form of exploitation that is practiced wherever industries concentrate, which is why creators can’t succeed by rooting for Big Tech against Big Content or vice-versa.

It’s also why creative workers should be in solidarity with all workers — squint a little at Audible’s chokepoint shakedown and you’ll recognize the silhouette of the gig economy, from Uber to Doordash to the poultry and meat-packing industries.

40 years of official pro-monopoly policy has brought the world to the brink of collapse, as monopoly profits and concentrated power allowed an ever-decreasing minority of the ultra-rich to extract ever-increasing fortunes from ever-more-precarious workers. It’s a flywheel: more monopoly creates more profits creates more power creates more monopoly.

The solutions we propose in Chokepoint Capitalism are specific to creative labor, but they’re also examples of the kinds of tactics that we can use in every industry, to brake the monopolists’ flywheel and start a new world.

I hope you’ll consider backing the Kickstarter if you can afford to — and if you can’t, I hope you’ll check out one of the copies our backers have donated to libraries around the world:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/chokepoint-capitalism-an-audiobook-amazon-wont-sell

[Image ID: An image of a mobile phone playing the Chokepoint Capitalism audiobook, along with the title and subtitle of the book: 'Chokepoint Capitalism: How Big Tech and Big Content Captured Creative Labor Markets and How We'll Win Them Back.']

[Image ID: Are you a writer, a musician, an artist? Is Big Tech eating your brain and sucking your financial blood? Cory Doctorow and Rebecca Giblin’s new book, Chokepoint Capitalism’, tells us how the vampires crashed the party and provides protective garlic. Your brain must remain your own concern, however.’ — Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale]

[Image ID: I loved this book. It brings a clear and rigorous vision of the chokepoint controls that are breaking our spirit and an equally clear path forward. It speaks directly to creators, would-be artists, writers, and musicians, and all who want a free society alive with culture, dissent, creativity. It helps us all see the locks and chains, and the ways to chisel through them.’ — Zephyr Teachout, law professor and author of Corruption in America and Break ’Em Up]

[Image ID: Creators are being ground up by the modern culture industries, with little choice but to participate in markets that weaken their power and economic return. In this brilliant and wide-ranging work, Giblin and Doctorow show why, and offer a range of powerful strategies for fighting back.’ — Lawrence Lessig, Roy L. Furman Professor of Law and Leadership, Harvard Law School]

[Image ID: This compellingly readable indictment shows how ‘consumer welfare’ regulatory theory has allowed Big Tech to choke creators and diminish choice. Giblin and Doctorow demonstrate that the goal to lower consumer costs means ‘you get what you pay for’: paying less for cultural goods leads to getting fewer creative outputs and enterprises. Chokepoint Capitalism couples its legal-economic critique with provocative, sometimes utopian, prescriptions for fairly remunerating authors and performers.’ — Jane C. Ginsburg, Morton L. Janklow Professor of Literary and Artistic Property Law, Columbia University School of Law]

[Image ID: The great myth of the American economy is that it rewards creators and producers. But Chokepoint Capitalism dares to tell the real story of how it actually rewards the all-powerful middlemen fleecing both workers and consumers. This book is an absolute must-read for anyone who senses that the predominant economic mythology is a lie, who wants to know what’s really happening in this economy — and who is ready to finally start fixing the problem.’ — David Sirota, writer of Don’t Look Up and founder of The Lever]

[Image ID: We all know something is wrong about every click, stream, and purchase we make — unfairly depriving value creators of their worth, while enriching the wealthiest and most extractive entities in human history. Instead of just complaining about the corporate stranglehold over production and exchange, Giblin and Doctorow show us why this happened, how it works, and what we can do about it. An infuriating yet inspiring call to collective action.’ — Douglas Rushkoff, author of Throwing Rocks at the Google Bus and Survival of the Richest]

[Image ID: Twenty years of internet copyright wars got us nowhere — creators are still getting the shaft. Giblin and Doctorow persuasively argue that copyright can’t unrig a rigged market — for that you need worker power, antitrust, and solidarity.’ — Jimmy Wales, cofounder of Wikipedia]

[Image ID: Capitalism doesn’t work without competition. Giblin and Doctorow impressively show the extent to which that’s been lost throughout the creative industries, and how this pattern threatens every other worker. There’s still time to do something about it, but the time to act is now.’ — Craig Newmark, founder of Craigslist]

[Image ID: Chokepoint Capitalism really is a tome for the times. It’s comforting to feel validated and terrifying to realize I was right all along! And now, to action! The revolution will not be spotified!’ — Christopher Coe, artist and cofounder of Awesome Soundwave]

[Image ID: If you have ever wondered why the web feels increasingly stale, Chokepoint Capitalism outlines in great detail how it is being denied fresh air. Over the past two decades, we have seen an immense consolidation of power, depriving us of fresh visions for what the web could be and contorting art and culture to flatter the objectives of a few platforms. This book does a remarkable job of identifying the blockages and surfacing ideas on the margins that could reroute us. I’m grateful it exists!’ — Mat Dryhurst, artist and researcher, NYU’s Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music]

[Image ID: Chokepoint Capitalism is more than a clarion call for a new, necessary form of trustbusting. It’s a grand unified theory of a decades-long, corporate-led hollowing out of creative culture. It will make you angry, and it should.’ — Andy Greenberg, writer for WIRED and author of Sandworm and Tracers in the Dark]

[Image ID: If you’re halfway through this book and aren’t boiling mad over the way contemporary capitalism has deformed and crippled culture, get your head checked. Chokepoint Capitalism is a Why We Fight for a long-overdue uprising. Rebecca Giblin and Cory Doctorow lay out their case in plain and powerful prose, offering a grand tour of the blighted cultural landscape and how our arts and artists have been chickenized, choked, and cheated. But it’s more than just a call to arms; it also provides a plan of battle with inspired strategy and actual tactics — ways that we can all channel that anger and make real change.’ — Kaiser Kuo, host and cofounder of The Sinica Podcast]

[Image ID: The story of how a few giant corporations are strangling the life out of our media ecosystem is one of the most important of the decade, and Giblin and Doctorow tell it better than anyone. Searing, essential, and incredibly readable.’ — Adam Conover, comedian and host of The G-Word]

[Image ID: Chokepoint Capitalism is not just a fascinating tour of the hidden mechanics of the platform era, from Spotify playlists to Prince’s name change, but a compelling agenda to break Big Tech’s hold. It presents a clear new way to think about corporate power — and a path to taking that power back for cultural creators and all of us.’ — Eli Pariser, author of The Filter Bubble and cofounder of Avaaz]

[Image ID: Chokepoint Capitalism is a masterwork. Rebecca Giblin and Cory Doctorow lay out in chilling detail how the deck is stacked against artists, the relentless corporate drives to control production and distribution through technology and deregulation, and how oligopolies deprive gifted artists of fair compensation by eliminating true competition. But they don’t stop there: this is also a useful handbook to take on that power structure. Giblin and Doctorow remind us that when individuals understand the value of their work, they can create the necessary leverage to challenge the status quo and retake what is rightfully theirs. Both frightening and uplifting, it’s a necessary read for any artist in the entertainment industry.’ — David A. Goodman, writer, executive producer of The Orville, and former president of the WGA Wes]

[Image ID: Anyone who cares about culture can see that something is deeply amiss in the ‘creator economy’ that today’s artists are obligated to participate in. Rather than simply lamenting the problem or falling back on clichés about starving artists, what Rebecca Giblin and Cory Doctorow do in Chokepoint Capitalism is to make clear the overall pattern that drives the exploitation of artists, from music to gaming to film to books. And they lay out a credible, actionable vision for a better, more collaborative future where artists get their fair due. Every creator will find inspiration here.’ — Anil Dash, CEO of Glitch]

#pluralistic #labor #creative labor markets #chokepoint capitalism #audible #monopolies #audiobooks #amazon #monopsonies #solidarity #crowdfunding #kickstarter #drm

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 29 days

Text

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!” he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

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#are you proud that i'm bringing on the grind for everything except my uni work?#they gave me 5 assignments again :/#also having a crisis that high school musical is turning 20 in the next two years #making me feel ancient #but not as ancient as lucifer #he's giving prehistoric #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor x you #alastor x oc

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