#i. wanted to post this earlier but tumblr was down for me rip
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CONGRATS ON 'WINNING', VIL! :]
...
... And... Rook--
(thanks to everyone who voted, lol-- it was fun! (this was the funniest outcome tbh- Pomefiore win!! :]
there's some extra stupid doodles i speedran, whilst rushing this art, under the read more--)
Vil is Fuming-
(also shout out to Idia's early lead, i couldn't stop laughing about it at first-
alsoalsooo, i thought that particular reblog was really funny, i'm all about Jade propaganda - let him have all the free time he wants :'[
-- but if the reblogger doesn't want me posting that then tell me pls! )
#twst#twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#art#ram's art#i. wanted to post this earlier but tumblr was down for me rip#anywayyysss the art was speedran in one sitting sry if it looks bad lol#this was my first time drawing the pomfiore dorm uniform and. why is it Like That.......................#:[ the sleeves are a major pain 0/10 :[#also i've found a great joy in drawing rook as stupidly as possible#yes btw i voted for lilia and malleus lmao - i don't dislike any main twst character so i just picked ones i dont vibe with the most lol#the only dia student i truly like is sebek - he's such. a Guy you know? shouty boy very good 10/10 i root for him every minute#if you need me to type out any of my handwriting btw tell me-------
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Moan for me (modern Aegon x fem Reader)
Summary: After yet another horrible date leaves you horny and alone your roommate Aegon takes care of your needs.
Or: the one where Aegon wants to prove he's better than your vibrator.
I posted this fic a couple of weeks ago but it got blocked by Tumblr and was no longer visible for anyone but me so this is a repost!
Warning: 18+ for smut and explicit language. Fingering, oral (female receiving, p in v, mentions of masturbation.
This is porn without plot and it was written quickly so forgive me for any grammar mistakes! I just had to get this out there so I can focus on my series again ;)
Word count: +2700
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All my fics are also on AO3
***
It wasn’t that you cared about being stood up, it was nothing new and you hadn’t even been into the guy all that much to begin with. But he was easy on the eyes and it had been too long since you’d been with anyone.
You were craving sex, badly, but you didn’t want to fuck someone who was a total moron. And all guys you had met with lately had turned out to be idiots, it was like the powers-that-be had made it their priority to have you meet every single loser on this planet and you were so tired of it.
Take this guy tonight for example.
What started as an innocent discussion about the Barbie movie had quickly become a heated argument that had uncovered layers of misogyny you weren’t prepared to deal with, not even for a quick -no doubt totally unsatisfying- fuck.
But it hadn’t changed the fact that you were still horny as hell and your chance at finally getting dicked down had just walked out the door.
You walked home feeling frustrated and looking forward to another night with your vibrator, who knew you better than any guy at this point and was also much better in satisfying your needs. Still, it wasn’t the same, you missed the skin on skin contact and the feeling of an actual human being underneath or on top of you.
You opened the door to your shared apartment and found one of your roommates in the living room.
Aegon was wearing sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt while he was absentmindedly browsing through Netflix, taking up the entire couch.
“You’re home early,” he stated, not taking his eyes off the tv,”Date didn’t go as planned?”
“You could say that,” you sighed,”What are you doing in? It’s Friday night, shouldn’t you be out picking up some random girl in a bar somewhere?”
“Couldn’t be bothered tonight,” he shrugged.
“You’re not missing much anyway,” you took off your shoes and plopped yourself down onto the other couch.
“That bad, huh?” he moved to sit up so he could look at you,”What happened?”
“I do not wanna talk about it.”
“Okay, that’s fair.”
You shared the apartment with Helaena and her brother Aegon. Helaena had been your best friend for years and Aegon had joined you both earlier last year. You two had clicked right away, his open and fun personality made him really easy to talk to and you had grown comfortable around him much quicker than you usually did with other people.
He was the typical party boy, going out every chance he got and bringing home different girls every week, but they all knew what they were in for with him and by the screams and moans coming out of his bedroom not a lot of girls complained.
You always considered him off limits because he was your best friend’s brother and it would make things awkward as fuck between the three of you. But tonight your horniness was winning and you couldn’t help but look at him with lust in your eyes.
Aegon was pretty, dreamy blue eyes and long curly blond hair and a smile that would melt any girl’s heart. He wasn’t ripped but he was fit and the sweatpants he was wearing tonight weren’t leaving much to the imagination. It didn’t help your already fragile state.
“You alright there?” Aegon asked when he noticed you staring.
“Fine,” you sighed,”Just…getting a little tired of spending another night with my vibrator.”
That statement got Aegon’s attention and he stared at you shamelessly.
“I mean, it gets the job done,” you continued oversharing,”But…it’s just not the same.”
Aegon nodded quietly.”How long has it been?” he then asked.
“Seven months,” you confessed.
He clicked his tongue,”Damn, oh babe, you must be frustrated as fuck.”
“Yeah, no shit,” you laughed and stood from the couch,”With that information…any sounds you hear coming out of my room tonight, just ignore it, okay? I may get a bit loud.”
Aegon nodded his head and swallowed hard.
“Hey, wait,” he stopped you before you could leave the room.
“What?”
He licked his lips while he looked up at you,”You don’t have to…I mean, I’m right here…I could…take care of you tonight.”
Your mouth opened in shock and you only now realized what you’d just shared with him,”Oh, I didn’t meant to…shit, I wasn’t trying to…”
“I know you weren’t,” he quickly reassured you,”But…I’m offering.”
He stood from the couch and took a few steps closer to you, looking into your eyes.
“I bet I can make you cum harder than your vibrator can,” he then whispered with a cheeky grin on his lips.
“Are you sure? He’s pretty good at finding my weak spots,” you teased,”It might be a challenge.”
“One I willingly accept, if you let me,” he took another step closer, his face mere inches away from yours now and you got lost in his blue eyes.
Your pussy was screaming yes let’s do this but your mind was a little more hesitant.
“Aegon…we’re roommates, I don’t know if we should…”
“I won’t be weird about it if you aren’t, it would just be a friend helping out another friend. We’re friends, right?”
You nodded,”Yeah, we’re friends.”
“Well, I can see that my friend is clearly frustrated and that she just needs a hand tonight,” while he spoke those last words he placed his hand on your inner thigh, rubbing softly and slowly moving up higher underneath your dress until his fingers reached the hem of your panties.
You didn’t pull away but your cheeks flushed at the intimate contact.
“What kind of friend would I be if I just left her to suffer like this, hmm?” he teased in a soft voice. His fingers moved up over your clothed pussy, feeling how soaked you were right through the fabric.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re practically dripping all over me,” he whispered while his lips curled up into an amused smile.
“Aegon,” you whimpered.
“You want me to stop?” he asked.
You quickly shook your head and your hand wrapped around his arm, fingers digging into his skin while you let your head fall down onto his shoulder. Aegon took that as confirmation you wanted him to continue and he slowly started moving his fingers, circling your clit through your panties.
“Look at you all needy and wet. I’d be a really bad friend if I didn’t help you out, wouldn’t I?” his lips found their way to your neck, leaving soft open mouthed kisses on your skin.
You couldn’t hold back your moan. It had been so long since someone touched you like this. Your hips were bucking into his hands, already desperate for more contact and Aegon knew not to waste time with you. His fingers slipped underneath your panties, spreading you wetness through your folds and then back up to play with your clit. You were embarrassingly close to falling apart already.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” he breathed in between kissing your neck and your jaw,”Was this what you needed?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, burying your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your moans. You gasped when he pushed a finger into your wetness and Aegon chuckled into your ear.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good already," he breathed, not hesitating to add another finger and fucking you with them agonizingly slowly.
He then moved you back towards the couch and pushed you down onto it, you whined at the loss of his fingers but it was quickly forgotten when he sank down on his knees in front of you and pulled your panties down. His eyes meeting yours eagerly as he licked his lips slowly.
“Can I eat you out? Please?” he practically begged.
Your mouth opened and your breathing picked up instantly, you nodded your head. It had been a long time since anyone touched you like that but it had been even longer since anyone had done that to you.
Your eyes closed in a heavy sigh when Aegon started kissing the inside of your knee and then your thighs, his hands spreading you open for him slowly while he made his way up higher and higher. You felt exposed and naked under his gaze but you didn’t care, the feel of his soft lips and his hot tongue on your skin made you forget everything else and the anticipation was making your head spin.
Your hand moved into his hair, caressing him softly and he hummed against your skin. Your free hand grasped the edge of the couch when his mouth finally landed on your clit.
“Fuck,” you breathed when he started licking your folds, teasing your entrance with the tip of his skilled tongue.
You knew he’d be good at this but you still weren’t ready for it to feel that good. Your muscles were tensing up, heat coiling in your belly already and your entire body was trying to fight it.
“Shhh, relax,” Aegon purred while he placed a few innocent kisses to your clit, his hands caressing the inside of your thighs,”Remember to breathe, sweetheart.”
You did as he asked, taking a few deep breaths and telling your body to surrender to him. When he continued kissing and licking your pussy your mind finally shut down and allowed yourself to submit to him and the pleasure he was giving you.
“That’s it, my sweet girl,” Aegon encouraged you,”Just lay back and let me take care of you.”
When he started fucking you with his tongue you knew you wouldn’t last much longer and you pulled his hair to indicate you were close. Aegon picked up instantly and when his thumb circled your clit again you began your descent.
He held you down when your legs started shaking around him, fucking you deeper and faster, your juices spilling all over his eager tongue and when he moaned into it you came so hard you almost blacked out.
Your moans and heavy breathing filled the room for a long time after that and Aegon took his time to lick you clean and let you come down from your high. When he eventually moved back up his lips were curled into a smug, satisfied grin. Your hand was still in his hair and you used it to pull him into you, licking your own arousal from his lips. Aegon was quick to push his tongue into your mouth and kiss you, deep and hungry.
You pulled at his sweatpants, your hands grabbing his ass and pulling him down onto the couch with you. He was quick to help you and take them off, letting his hard cock spring free against your inner thigh.
“Fuck me,” you begged and your eagerness made him moan into your mouth.
“Yeah?” he asked,”You sure, baby?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you bit down on his bottom lip,”I fucking need you, now, Aegon.”
It was all you needed to say, he wrapped his free hand around his already leaking cock and gave a few hard strokes before aligning himself with your entrance.
“Wait, you’re clean, right?” your brain kicked in at just the right time.
Aegon nodded,”I’m clean, promise. You?”
“On the pill,” you explained.
“Music to my ears,” Aegon grinned and then he was pushing into you slowly, both of you moaning in unison now.
He took his time, letting you adjust to his size before he started moving. Having him inside you was the best feeling in the world and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this with him much sooner.
Aegon pinned you down onto the couch and started fucking you, slowly, while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“Fuck,” you whined, tangling your fingers into his hair while your eyes rolled back into your head.
He pulled down your dress, revealing your breasts and taking one of them into his mouth while he kept pounding into you. The feeling of him stretching you to the core while he sucked on your nipple was overwhelming and quickly sending you towards another climax.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around my cock,”Aegon breathed against your skin, moving up to your neck again,”Always fucking knew you’d feel so good.”
He grazed your skin with his teeth and then kissed your lips again, hard and desperate this time as he picked up the pace with his hips, slamming into you and knocking the air out of your lungs.
“I could fucking hear you, you know?” he then whispered in between kissing you,”When you play with that vibrator of yours…your moans go straight through my wall, driving me fucking insane every time.”
You whimpered at his confession, wrapping your arm around his neck to hold him close to you.
“I jerked off so many times to the sound of your sweet moans, did you know that?” he continued while breathing into your ear,”Nothing makes me cum as hard as you do, I bet you didn’t know that, huh?”
You shook your head and bit your lip, keeping your eyes on him. He was breathing so hard, his cheeks flushed, his lips burning red from kissing you and the rest of your arousal still on his face. He had never looked prettier than he did right now. You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch eagerly, kissing the inside of your hand and then moving down to kiss your lips again.
You could lose yourself in his kiss, get addicted to his taste so easily if you allowed yourself. You quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind.
“Fuck me harder, Aegon,” you whispered into his ear, making him grunt into your mouth and he did as you asked, pushing you deeper into the couch with every snap of his hips.
“Like that?” he breathed,”Oh, you like it when it hurts a little, huh?”
“Yes,” you moaned, dragging your nails over his back,”Yes, don’t stop, please.”
He took hold of your hips to keep you still and fuck you even deeper while he kissed your neck and your jaw. Sloppy, wet kisses leaving a trail all over your skin. You were close, so close, the built up tension almost too much to bear, you needed to let go.
“Aegon,” you begged, not even sure for what but Aegon seemed to understand anyway. He moved one hand down in between your legs, fingers brushing over your clit, fast small circles that pushed you right over the edge. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure.
“That’s it, sweetheart, moan for me,” he breathed, closing his eyes in a heavy grunt, feeling his own climax closer and closer,”Cum for me, please…cum for me, baby…oh, fuck.”
He spilled inside of you as soon as you started clenching around him and you took every last drop he had to offer you. Aegon kissed you through your orgasm, both of you swallowing each others moans and clinging to each other as the last wave of it passed through you. Afterwards he buried his face against your shoulder, kissing the skin he’d bruised earlier.
It took a few minutes to calm down your breathing and to stop your body from shaking. You could feel Aegon laugh against your neck and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. Every ounce of frustration you had felt earlier today was fucked out of you.
“So, was I better than your stupid vibrator?” he asked with a smug grin, already knowing the answer before you confirmed it.
You nodded,”So…much…better.”
He kissed your shoulder again and smiled sweetly,”Good. Next time you feel horny you come to me and I’ll take care of it.”
You looked at him and narrowed your eyes,”Next time?”
He gently moved a few locks of hair from your face and tucked them behind your ear, caressing your cheek in the process.”Maybe next time you’ll let me use that thing on you and get the best of both worlds,” he then teased with a smirk,”Would you like that, sweetheart?”
The fire he had just put out in you was suddenly making some new sparks and you bit your lip and stared into his eyes. “Why wait until next time when we can go do that right now?”
Aegon was up from the couch within seconds, pulling you with him and into your bedroom.
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Holiday Angel
Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 18K; Um. You’re welcome? Get some snacks and water.
@fvckinghenrycavill asked nicely, so I'm releasing this earlier than planned. Also, I think @mayloma might be waiting patiently?
Warnings: age difference (m 40′s, f 20′s; it’s your best friend’s dad for god’s sake), mention of cheating, mention of phone sex, masturbation (f), light!dom (m)/sub (f), praise kink, lingerie, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v sex in various positions, protected sex, light bondage, spanking and ass play; if this doesn’t sound like something you’d be into, I won’t be offended if you scroll on by
A/N: Let's be clear: I've only seen MI:Fallout once. I really only know August from Tumblr. This is an AU, where he is not a traitorous anarchist. I also am not comfortable writing a strict dom, so please take a softer August than you may be used too. Additionally, you are a US college Junior in this story (21-ish). Don't worry, I'm not 21 either. Trust me. It's okay. This is a fantasy.
I've also been extremely self-indulgent here. You're gonna see some names you might recognize. You might wonder what college you go to, where in the US you are, or what year it is. I have taken many liberties. Please absolutely enjoy them. (And if anyone was following along with this post, you may notice a scene change. Trying out my inclusivity options.)
And I have a Spotify playlist I used for various scene inspiration if you're interested.
Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker (could anyone really tie him down?), but I do own these words and this story. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.
Header by me. Dividers by the ever wonderful and giving @firefly-graphics.
You dropped the Blue Book for your last final on Professor Marshall's desk and skipped out of the room with glee, suppressing the urge to turn back and grab one more mental image of the grumpy professor for the road.
Christmas break was officially on!
Gemma was waiting in the loading zone outside McKinney Hall, her brand new Audi packed with both your bags and ready for the five hour road trip home.
"Bitch, what took you so long?" she teased, knowing you were actually a little early. You had breezed through the test and ran back to the dorms to meet her. She handed you your favorite iced coffee indulgence, a special treat for making it through the week.
"Let's hit it!" you shouted, turning up the volume on the Spotify playlist Gemma had primed and ready to go.
You swapped driving duties halfway, stopping at a drive-thru to grab french fries to supplement the cut fruit and snacks you packed for the trip.
"God, I am craving salt right now!" Gemma exclaimed.
"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.
"Yesss," Gemma groaned. "And Mikey wants to meet up first thing when he flies in on Sunday. God I hope she gets lost on the way!"
"How's that been going? Long distance and all."
You were glad you and Gemma had decided NOT to room together again after the fiascos of Freshman and Sophomore year. It was only through the saving grace of several grueling classes that kept you library or study group bound for a good portion of the time that you had been able to overcome the petty drama.
It was Gemma's father who had actually suggested she move off campus alone this year and you were pleased to find a lighter class load that allowed you to spend more quality time with your childhood best friend without wanting to rip her face off every five minutes. He was so wise, that Mr. Walker.
But living apart kept you from knowing every single detail of each other's lives, so the drive was a perfect time to catch up on the minutiae.
"It's been weird, honestly. I mean, hooking up last summer was totally unexpected. I can't believe he finally let Chelsea go, but what a fucking night that was!" Gemma squealed as you tamped down your jealousy.
Everyone in high school had the hots for Mike, and you were no exception. But Gemma caught his eye at the last hurrah before heading back to college this past September and, well, girl code. Even if your tastes in men hadn’t already started changing, he was off your list forever now. Especially because he had actually seemed hellbent on making a true go of it with her, promising nightly calls that unfortunately turned weekly as the semester dragged on.
"He's seemed a little distant lately. Distracted. That missed call on Halloween really had me questioning everything he said about giving us a shot. But he's been making it up to me. The phone sex..."
"Stop. Please. I don't want to hear about him slapping one out over the phone," you laughed.
"He sounds so sexy when he comes. Long distance or otherwise."
"Ugh, god. Stop!"
"What? Like you don't love it too! What's up with you and Charlie?"
"Fuck him,” you scoffed. “D'you know, I caught him with Brigette?"
"Your roommate Brigette?"
"Yup. Right before finals started. I need to find a new living situation for next semester, stat!"
"God, why didn't you say something??? Are you okay?"
"I'm surprisingly fine. Things hadn't been so hot lately and honestly, I just don't think he's for me."
"What, missionary all the way?"
You both laughed until the tears were running.
"You should've seen his face when I asked to be on top once. It was like I killed his dog or something."
"Jesus, yeah. You're better off. You need a real man," Gemma declared.
You laughed again, but it came out with a hitch in your throat. A real man was right.
"What was that?" Gemma asked.
"What was what?" you feigned innocence, and held your breath.
"You laughed like you're hiding something. You got a thing going with one of your professors?"
You exhaled as normally as possible. Easy enough to fib your way out of this one with an opening like that.
"God, nothing's going on. But have you seen Professor Marshall? I alternately congratulate and kick myself for choosing a criminal justice major. That man is so fine to look at," you let out a whistle. "It's distracting!"
"So I've heard. Think it's too late to switch majors?"
"Why would I?"
"Not you, silly! Me," Gemma laughed.
"Your father would be so disappointed if you didn't finish your business degree. Who's he gonna leave the company to?" You winked at her, knowing she wanted nothing to do with it. She was only playing along, hoping to find a college boyfriend that would be able to keep her in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.
You didn't think Mikey was it, but hey. Neither your circus nor your monkeys. You chatted for a bit longer before Gemma dropped into a light sleep. Girl could never last in the car as a passenger on long drives. The hum of the road put her out if she wasn’t in charge of driving.
While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker.
When did this infatuation start? You’d met Gemma, and by extension Mr. Walker, in 5th grade after your parents had moved across town and into a new school district. Mrs. Walker had already passed and you don’t know why Gemma’s father never remarried, but you also never saw or heard about him bringing a woman home to meet her.
In high school, when you really started paying attention to boys, you began to notice how good looking Mr. Walker was. But the most you ever hoped for was to meet a boy who would grow up to be as handsome. It wasn’t until lately, when some of your college professors had piqued your interest, that you began to fantasize about him, too. This might be a long week.
You pulled up the scenic drive and parked in front of the Walker residence around 8pm. Gemma blinked her eyes opened and stretched before getting out of the car.
"You sure it's okay I stay here until my parents get back?" you leaned over the gear shift to call out the door. "I can't believe they scheduled a whole house reflooring right before Christmas and then skipped town on me to boot."
"It's totally fine. Dad's probably gonna be busy 24-7 at the office so we'll have the run of the house. And thank God for heated pools!"
You kept your mouth shut, knowing if you showed any interest at all in why Mr. Walker would be so busy this close to the end of the year your face would probably melt off from the heat you felt every time you thought about him lately. Let alone the image of him in swim trunks in the pool. Or not in swim trunks.
Gemma leaned back into the open passenger door and you snapped out of it.
"Coming?"
You turned your whole body to open the driver door, desperate to hide from her the wanton desire you were sure adorned your face. Coming, indeed.
You both grabbed your bags from the back seat and headed up the pristine sidewalk towards the stately mid-century modern mansion Gemma called a "house". The thing could host a Hollywood premiere party and was decorated with such understated glamor you wouldn't be surprised if it would play backdrop to such a party one day. Or maybe a movie set.
The tall, rich wooden door had a thin vertical metal handle stretching from a quarter of the way down the right side, stopping a quarter of the way up from the bottom. A warm glow streamed through the large panels of windows stretching across the front of the house and exposing the elegantly decorated Christmas tree in the front living room surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture.
When Gemma finally tapped in the key code and opened the door, you stepped into the flagstone entryway and smiled at the white lights nestled in the pine garland covering the banisters of the floating stairs leading up to the master bedroom and sitting area loft, then down to the basement holding several guest rooms, the fitness and media rooms, as well as Gemma's room.
Another couple guest room suites could be found on the main entry level along with the custom gourmet kitchen and pantry, dining area, mud and laundry rooms. You knew Mr. Walker's home office was somewhere on this level as well, though you'd never dared venture down the hall to find it. He’d always made it very clear it was off limits.
You were dying to sink into the oversized conversation couch that surrounded the sunken floor of the family room in the back of the house and stare off into the fire or out the back windows onto the deck overlooking the pool but Gemma called for you to follow her downstairs first.
"I have to get out of these clothes and then we'll DoorDash."
"No need, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the deep voice call from upstairs. "I made dinner, it's just warming in the oven. I'll get plates ready for you both, so hurry settling in."
"Dad! I thought you'd still be at the office!" Gemma exclaimed, dropping her bags and heading to the landing to give her father a hug and turning her head away to accept his kiss on the cheek.
"Well, I couldn't let you two eat cold takeout. They can never keep it warm on the drive out here." He turned, letting go of Gemma and opening his arms to you in what should have been a normal welcoming gesture if you hadn’t just been fantasizing about him half the ride home. "Good to see you again."
You suppressed a flustered squeak and pressed your lips together to stifle the drool, thankful Gemma was now behind her father and couldn't see your face as you reached for the hug. But he could. Did. For sure. Fuck.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Walker. That's very kind of you," you managed to reply while trying not to inhale his scent too deep.
"It was nothing," he let go of you and stepped back, slipping his hands slowly into the pockets of his dress slacks.
Were you staring at his muscular forearms, visible below the line of his crisp, white rolled up sleeves? God, you were. Get a fucking grip.
"We'll be right back, Dad. Thanks."
Gemma led you downstairs and sent you off to your regular overnight room down the hall from hers. You were grateful both rooms had their own bathrooms so you didn't have to pass her on your way to splash cold water on your face.
How were you going to survive these next few days before your parents came back with your aunt, uncle, and cousin for Christmas? Gemma wasn't wrong about needing a real man. You'd put up with immature boys all through high school.
Once you started college, a series of gorgeous, educated older men led your lectures over the last few years and your desires had slowly shifted. It really was no problem that Charlie had cheated on you. Perfect opportunity to drop him and move on to something more meaningful. And hopefully someone more experienced.
Has Mr. Walker been in your sights all along? No. No way. But here he was now. It wasn't right to think about him this way, but fuck he looked good tonight, that fluffy curl hanging down and that porn 'stache. What else could you call it? He even had a little of the scruff you'd really enjoyed seeing on Professor Marshall. You wondered how it would feel between your... You heaved a sigh. This can not happen.
You splashed another round of cold water and then dried your face, swapped your jeans for light cotton joggers, and then climbed the stairs to join Gemma and her dad in the dining room.
"There you are," Mr. Walker announced, standing at the head of the table with a bottle in his hand. "We thought you'd gotten lost." He flashed what felt like a knowing smirk as you froze in your tracks.
"Dad, don't be daft. She knows her way around the house." She turned to you from her seat to the right of her father and motioned to your usual guest spot across the table from her, to the left of Mr. Walker.
"Oh, let me have my fun, Gemma. Would you girls like some wine?"
"'Girls', dad? Really?"
"What would you prefer?"
"Ladies?"
Mr. Walker chuckled as he picked up the bottle and poured two glasses of wine.
"Right then. There you go, ladies."
He tilted his head to the side and glanced at you as he split his arms and passed the glasses over by the stems. You did your best to grab the bowl, but his fingers shifted up slightly as he released your glass. You heated again as they brushed the back of your hand and you took a sip immediately, trying to cover the pleasure that had to be apparent on your face.
You set the glass down and picked up your knife and fork, preparing to dig into the plate of luscious looking food in front of you. You took a bite and tried to suppress it, but a groan slipped out of your mouth as your eyes rolled closed. You closed your lips and chewed the fork-tender meat, marveling at it melting away in your mouth. When you finished swallowing, you opened your eyes to find Gemma staring at you, mouth agape.
You turned your head to find Mr. Walker's piercing blue eyes trained on yours as he leaned casually against the arm of the oversized dining chair.
"Enjoying it?"
You blinked and remembered where you were, who you were with.
"Mr. Walker, these short ribs are divine!" you declared.
"Jesus. You act like you never ate a home-cooked meal before," Gemma snapped.
"Sorry, I just," you shook your head to clear the fog. "I mean you’ve always been a great cook, I've just never tasted anything like this."
"It's good, right?" Mr. Walker asked. “I’ve been expanding my repertoire lately.”
"It really is. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed! Gemma, I'm sorry. That was..."
You stared at her across the table with a silent plea, your eyes begging her to say something, anything. You were about to give up completely when Gemma burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face.
"You absolute freak!" she laughed and you let out a breath and laughed with her.
You kept your shit together during the rest of the dinner for the most part. But Mr. Walker poured another few glasses of wine and you could feel yourself getting tipsy.
"I think I need to head to bed, but do you need any help in the kitchen, Mr. Walker?" you asked.
"No, but thank you for the offer. Be careful down those stairs." Did he wink at you?
"See you in the morning!" Gemma called, with a lightness that told you she had well and truly forgiven the awkwardness of just an hour or so ago.
You peeled off your thin sweater and discarded your bra, leaving just a lacy camisole and your joggers. You pulled back the thick pile of covers on the bed and were about to climb in, when a wave of thirst overtook you.
You opened the bedroom door and stepped softly into the hall. The Walkers always kept a mini-fridge stocked in the media room down here. You froze as you entered the doorway.
"Oh, Mr. Walker! I was just..."
"I thought you might want a bottle of water for your nightstand."
You exhaled a small laugh as you both spoke at the same time, but then froze again as you watched the way he held the bottle. Low, at his hips. One hand on the base, the other fiddling with the cap.
" Wh..where's Gemma?" you practically whispered, unable to get your voice to cooperate suddenly.
"She's finishing up the dishes. I’m sure she'll be right down," he replied with a firm, confident tone. "Did you want this?"
He gave a slight nod in the direction of his hands, where you saw he was now tipping the bottle back and forth, before finally offering it to you with an outstretched arm and hand gripped firm around the plastic form.
"Here. Take it."
You nodded and reached for the bottle, once again trying to avoid his touch. Once again finding your fingers brushing against his.
“There you go.”
Your stomach dropped along with his voice as you realized what a terrible idea staying here was. There was no way you were going to be able to hide your desire from Gemma if her father was going to keep acting like this. Time stood still while you tried to move something, anything. Your eyes away from his. Your mouth to say thank you. Your feet to head back to your room.
"Let's get you back to bed," he stepped forward, turning you with a hand on your shoulder, then sliding that hand down your side to your waist and guiding you down the hall.
He stopped at the door frame, pressing you gently into the room. You almost moaned at the loss of his touch as you stepped out of his reach and sat on the edge of the bed, finally finding your voice.
"Thank you, Mr. Walker."
"Sweet dreams." He absolutely winked at you. Fuck.
He pulled the door shut, leaving you all alone with the crazy feelings stirring inside you. This is your best friend's father. You reclined back in the bed. Snap out of it. Girl code isn't just about boyfriends. Pulled the covers over you. Besides, he's like, twice your age, at least. Stared at the dark ceiling, while your fingers shifted under the covers and down your belly. But the way he looked at you tonight. Slipped a hand past the waistband of your pants. He wasn't just being polite. Tentatively touched the heat between your legs.
He was flirting, there was no denying it. Maybe you could have written off the hand brush at dinner, but he was showing off with the bottle of water. He wanted you to look.
You swirled a finger gently through your folds, gathering the slick and spreading it around. You thought about his mischievous grin, his tailored pants, and his strong hands before plunging two fingers deep inside, pulling them back out slowly to circle your clit.
"More," you whispered to yourself, then obliged with fingers deep again, arching your back for better positioning.
"Right there," you moaned quietly, letting the fantasy circle around your head. You pumped in and out, curling deep to find your sweet, spongy spot while you toyed with the idea of letting him touch you.
"Please," you begged, pressing a thumb against your clit, twitching with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer.
You pulled your slick fingers from your clenching walls and focused all your attention on your clit, rubbing tenderly while you imagined his mouth on you.
"God, Mr. Walker!" you gasped, finally reaching your peak. "August," you whispered, rolling to your side and clasping the blanket close around you while you worked to slow your heart rate before drifting off to sleep.
You woke late on Saturday. It was 10 am when you looked at the clock. The floor to ceiling blackout curtains had really done their job.
You skipped the shower, even though you craved one after the long drive and your private activity the night before. Instead, you just washed your face and wrapped a thin robe around yourself before heading up to find breakfast. Gemma was sitting at the kitchen counter typing away on her phone, empty cereal bowl in front of her.
“Oh, good. You’re up! And you didn’t shower already, perfect. Grab a bite and then let’s hang in the hot tub this morning. I have a kink in my neck from that car ride I need to work out!”
You poured yourself a bowl of cereal and mug of steaming coffee and took a seat in a low back leather barstool next to Gemma. She let you eat in silence while she finished her text conversation.
“Ugh,” she exclaimed, slamming the phone on the counter. “I can’t believe Mike got put on shift at the end of finals week.”
“That why he couldn’t get home already?”
“Yeah, says it’s like a right of passage for all new bartenders at the club. Business is light, but they schedule you with a threat that you’ll lose shifts the following semester if you don’t stay to serve the stragglers and the few locals who pop in the bar once the college crowd clears out for break.”
“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”
“Yep. You done?” She watched for your nod. “Well get changed and let’s hit the tub.”
You headed back downstairs to your room and fished your bikini out of your luggage. After changing, you threw the curtains aside and pulled open the sliding door leading to the heated pool deck. Gemma must have had her suit on under her robe because she was already soaking by the time you stepped outside.
You slipped into the bubbling water, immediately grateful for the suggestion. The warmth began to work on your own tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding and you let out a little moan.
“I hear you on that,” Gemma stated. “I hate long car rides! They fuck with my spinal alignment.”
“Yeah, this water feels so good.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head back against the side of the tub, sinking as deep as you could without dipping your face in the water. You snapped up when you heard the splash and blinked your eyes open to see a figure skimming under the water from the far deep end of the pool to the shallow end closer to where you sat in the hot tub.
When Mr. Walker popped his head above water and hung on the side of the pool to say good morning, you were ever so grateful for the steam hiding any lust in your eyes.
“Hey dad.” Gemma turned from her spot to face him.
“Are you ladies getting in the pool this morning?” he smirked.
“No, I think we’re just gonna soak and then go veg in front of the TV for a bit,” she replied, hanging off the side of the hot tub.
“Alright, well, I’m headed out to check on a few sites this afternoon. Should I plan on you for dinner or have you made other arrangements?” Mr. Walker asked.
“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”
Gemma turned back to you as you watched Mr. Walker duck back into the water and begin a series of laps. You fluttered your eyes closed so she couldn’t see how blown your pupils were, watching him first speak with Gemma and then propel his body through the water. God, he was practically naked over there. You were practically naked over here. You leaned your head back again to pray for relief.
When you both felt loose and relaxed enough, you climbed out of the hot tub, grabbing an oversized towel from the lidded basket next to the pool to dry off. You were just bending over to reach your lower legs and feet when you heard the splash of footsteps on the pool stairs.
“Right then, that’s me done. And don’t you two load up on snacks while I’m gone. You’ll spoil your appetite.”
You held your breath as he leaned next to you to grab a towel, another mysterious smirk on his face as he rose to face you. You stood and pulled your towel up your body, pretending to wipe non-existent water from your face just to avoid any further eye contact. His body was amazing and his wet swim trunks were clinging to his thighs. If Gemma caught you staring, you were done for.
When it felt safe, you lowered the towel from your face and watched him pad up the staircase leading to the main level before entering the house. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, but luckily Gemma was already heading inside herself.
You showered finally, then donned some comfy loungewear and joined Gemma in the media room where she’d already cued up Netflix.
“Ready to binge The Witcher?” she asked. “They just released the new season last night.”
“Ugh, that man could raw-dog me all day and night!”
“Where is the lie???!!!???” she laughed with you.
You grabbed some water from the mini-fridge, doing your best to ignore the scene from last night that popped into your head as you settled into an oversized, reclining theater seat. Gemma paused the autoplay on the third episode and asked if you wanted some lunch. You were hungry, alright. But yeah, a sandwich sounded good.
There were still at least 3 more episodes of the season left, when Mr. Walker called down around 6.
“I’m starting dinner now. It’ll be ready shortly.”
“We’ll help,” Gemma called and flipped off the tv. You both headed upstairs to the kitchen. Gemma began to set the dining table, so you sat at the kitchen counter and asked what you could do.
“You could prep that basil for me,” Mr. Walker replied. “Here, like this.”
You watched rapt, as he proceeded to show you how he wanted you to tear the leaves gently into small pieces. When he was sure you had it right, he drizzled some olive oil in a large shallow saute pan and waited for it to warm before tossing in two packages of gnocchi.
He stirred them around for a few minutes and when he was satisfied by their state, he ladeled them out into a serving bowl. He scooped out a few and offered them over the counter to you and Gemma. You each plucked a warm, crispy potato pillow from the spoon and you sighed when you popped it in your mouth, happy that Gemma was making the same noise and you wouldn’t be called out this time. Something about food with Mr. Walker was becoming increasingly sensual to you.
He added some more olive oil and then butter to the pan, waiting for it to melt before pouring in the heirloom cherry tomatoes he’d asked you to dry off from the colander in the deep sink. He sprinkled in some salt and gave them a quick stir, then turned to the open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.
He poured three glasses set on the counter and pushed two towards you and Gemma with his fingers pressed on the base of the stems. Then he raised his own glass.
“I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart,” he tipped his glass to Gemma, and then toward you. “Both of you, of course.”
You took a small sip, watching over the rim as he did the same and you held your breath while your eyes trailed along his throat as he swallowed, hoping Gemma didn’t notice you staring.
The three of you chatted amicably, while Mr. Walker stirred the tomatoes in the pan until they began to burst, at which point he dumped the crispy gnocchi back into the pan. You watched in awe as he lifted the heavy pan with one hand and gave it a good toss, shifting it back and forth with subtle little wrist flicks that nestled the gnocchi into the simple sauce. Then he stirred in some fresh mozzarella pearls and some of the hand-torn basil, giving you a wink of thanks, before popping the whole thing under the broiler.
He asked Gemma to carry the salad and offered you the last pour of wine before sending you off to the dining room with a fresh bottle. Seated at your usual spot, you piled a moderate amount of the bubbly dish onto your plate, inhaling the heavenly scent of basil and tomato. Mr. Walker raised an eyebrow as he held a small bowl of shaved parmesan in your direction. When you nodded, he held the dish for you while you sprinkled the cheese over your plate, eyes watching you the whole time. The fact that he simply turned and handed the bowl to Gemma to let her hold it while she sprinkled her own cheese was not lost on you.
The white wine wasn’t affecting you the way the red had the night before, so once dinner was over, you and Gemma helped clean up and then headed downstairs to finish out the season before going to bed.
You woke yourself up in the middle of the night with your hand down your pants again, teasing your slit while you recalled the dream.
A rugged man with long silvery hair helped you down off his horse and led you to a blanket in a clearing near a steamy pool of water. From a small bowl, he plucked a tiny ripe tomato with his fingers and gently pressed it into your waiting mouth. You sighed as the tomato burst when you bit into it and shivered when he bent over to lick the juice running down your chin with the tip of his tongue before pressing you to your back and holding you down with a heavy kiss. You whispered his name into the night once again as you came.
“August.”
In the morning, you peeled the covers back and stretched your way out of bed. The pleasure of the mid-slumber release you gave yourself last night still tingled in your mind. You showered and dressed, then climbed the stairs again searching for Gemma and hopefully breakfast, missing that her door was still closed. You stopped short seeing Mr. Walker alone in the kitchen.
“Good morning. Did you sleep alright?” He spoke with a suspicious tone. It was like he knew. How could he know?
You swallowed and tried to find your voice. “I did. Thank you.”
“Coffee?” He held the french press up and grabbed a mug when you nodded. “I have a frittata here, too, if you’d like some.”
“Yes, please. Smells amazing,” you inhaled and closed your eyes slowly, remembering the meals from the last few nights as well. “You’re a really good cook, Mr. Walker.”
“I certainly try,” he winked at you. “So what do you two have going on today?”
“I don’t know. Mike gets in this afternoon and I think Gemma wants to meet up with him.”
“Will you be joining them?”
You blinked and swallowed. How do you tell a father that his daughter is probably going to be getting railed six ways to Sunday tonight, so no, you wouldn’t be joining them?
“Uh…”
“Morning!” Gemma’s cheery greeting broke the tension and you were thankful you didn’t have to tell Mr. Walker that the reunion tonight was for Gemma alone. She gave her father a peck on the cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Gemma, sweetheart, are you meeting Mike tonight?” Mr. Walker asked.
“I am!” she grinned.
“Alone?”
“Yeaahhhh…” she answered, just short of shy. “Sorry dad, I probably should have said something earlier. But you can handle a night without me, right?”
Mr. Walker stared at her for a moment and suddenly all the tension was back in the room. He had to know what was going to go on tonight. How could he not?
“I’m sure I can figure something out. But please, be safe.”
You pursed your lips and widened your eyes as you turned away from them. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Did he have no illusions about the extracurricular activities of his one and only daughter? Sure, she was of age and he had to know what she got up to away from home, but still. If you had to tell your parents you were going to be skipping a night home with them to get it on with your boyfriend, you’d probably melt into the furniture.
“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully.
“Alright, well, I’m off. I have some work to finish up here and then a few more site visits to make today.”
“On a Sunday, dad, really?”
“We’re very close to closing this deal and it has to be done before the end of the year. I want to be sure the due diligence is correct so I don’t get stuck with a billion dollar dud when everything is said and done.”
“You’re obsessed.”
“About the things I care about, why wouldn’t I be? You two have fun today. Gemma, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Not before you get home, unless you’re not going into the office tomorrow?”
“To be determined.” He gave you both a short goodbye wave and headed out.
“Awk - ward…” you sing-songed, once you were sure he was out of range.
“Ugh, I know. He’s not stupid. I mean, he knows I’m active, but it’s still a little weird being so forthcoming with him about it.”
“Has he ever had anyone…” you asked before you could filter the thought.
“I mean, you’re here all the time when I’m home. Have you ever seen him bring a woman around? I know he’s dated over the years, but no one’s ever good enough for him. They never last so he never wants to introduce us. It’s a little sad, really.”
You nodded in agreement.
“Do you want to have a swim and sit in the hot tub for a bit again this morning? Mikey’s flight gets in at 3, so I was hoping you and I could head into town for lunch and maybe some shopping and then you could drop me at his place and drive my car back here. Unless you want to meet up with anyone, of course.”
“Sounds perfect. I’m honestly just looking forward to another veg fest tonight.”
You changed into your bathing suit and slipped a robe over top, then met Gemma on the heated pool deck.
“I can’t get over how warm it is right now! Clearly no hope for a white Christmas.”
“I know! Air’s still a bit chilly, but yeah, sucks. I’d love snow for the holidays,” you replied, dropping your towel on a lounge chair and untying your robe. You slid the fabric off your shoulders, and stepped down the stairs into the warm, salt water pool. You let your body acclimate a bit before dipping your head completely under and pushing off the bottom to glide to the far side in one breath. When you surfaced, you grabbed a hold of the side of the pool and realized Mr. Walker was standing at his office windows, staring down at you.
He held your gaze for what felt like a moment too long, then turned away, presumably toward his desk, but impossible for you to see his face. Which, to be honest, was fine because for a minute it felt like he was going to burst through the windows and eat you up.
The splash as Gemma broke the surface next to you snapped you out of your reverie and she tugged you back from the side, urging you into an easy lap race. You swam back and forth the length of the pool about twenty times before stopping back at the shallow end.
“That all you got?” Gemma called, crawling away toward the deep end again.
You stared after her, but let your gaze raise to the windows. His window. You could see nothing inside from this far away, the light tint blocking everything. But you knew he was there. Was he still sitting at his desk, typing a memo? On the phone, arranging an international meeting? Or was he back at the window, watching you with his hands in his pockets, struggling not to touch himself? Or fuck, maybe he was touching himself. You sank under the water before Gemma could reach you again.
“Hot tub?” she asked, when you bobbed to the surface.
“Hot tub,” you agreed.
You lounged in the even warmer, bubbling water for another 15 minutes or so, sending the last of your finals week jitters packing. This semester was over. Your relationship was over. There was nothing more you could do about your performance for either scenario. So you closed your eyes and let it all go with a sigh.
“There you are.”
“What?” you opened your eyes as Gemma spoke.
“You’ve been on edge. I know you said you didn’t care about Charlie, but something’s been bothering you. You just look so much more relaxed now. You good? Still okay about the plans for tonight? I don’t mean to leave you all alone, but…”
“I’m gonna be so good, Gem. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go. I want to see if that pop-up shop is still around. They have the cutest jewelry.”
“Yes!”
You found the store you were looking for and bought a few new pairs of earrings. A long, thin drop chain pair and some geometric hoops, asking the clerk if you could wear the gold bar threaders out of the store. You also found a necklace for your mom and some jade bracelets for your aunt. Christmas shopping halfway done.
Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next.
“I wanna get something sexy for tonight.” She tried on a few outfits and picked out a few for you to try on too.
“This is silly. I don’t have anyone to wear this stuff for anymore.”
“Oh, just wear it for yourself. Don’t you just feel luxurious in silk?”
You agreed and bought the dark blue, high cut silk romper with black lace trim and white flower print. It was maybe the sexiest thing you ever owned. And you were single. Awesome.
You and Gemma walked arm in arm to your favorite lunch spot, grabbing a table on the heated patio. You giggled conspiratorially together about how her evening with Mike would go, making sure you cut her off before she got too graphic. You did not want the details. Those were private, no matter how much Gemma liked to brag.
You hit a few more shops after lunch, nabbing a new sweater for your dad, a book from your uncle’s favorite author, and some art supplies for your cousin. You just had stocking stuffers left, so you hit up the candy shop after dropping Gemma at Mike’s.
You pulled Gemma’s car into the garage and let yourself into the basement to drop your bags down in your room, figuring you would just stay hidden and out of Mr. Walker’s way for the evening. But your stomach rumbled and you realized lunch had been hours ago.
Before you could make it upstairs, you were distracted by the sounds of grunting and staccato smacks. You peered into the gym to find Mr. Walker throwing jabs and punches against a heavy bag. His back was to you and your mouth watered as you watched his shoulders and traps tense and ripple with each hit. From the amount of sweat dripping down his back and soaked into his tank and shorts, he’d clearly been at it for a while. He was shifting his feet back and forth in a little sparring dance and you were about to get caught out as he rotated around the bag. But you simply couldn’t move.
Mr. Walker had just pumped his arms preparing for the next hit as he rounded his target. He grabbed the bag to still it when he noticed you staring.
“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.
You cleared your throat and suppressed the urge to turn and run.
“Everything’s, uh …just fine,” you smiled at him. “I was just on my way to grab a bite and heard the ruckus in here.”
“Sorry to sidetrack you.” He trained an intense stare on you, head tilting to the side. “But I was just about done anyway. If you don’t mind waiting, I can whip up something after I grab a shower?”
“That would be amazing, thank you Mr. Walker. Anything I can do to help get ready?”
He strode toward you now, grabbing a towel from the bench to wipe the sweat from his face. You watched rapt as a damp curl bounced back into place on his brow.
“If you want to open a bottle of wine, feel free, but no need to do any heavy lifting in the kitchen. I’ve got it covered,” he winked at you with a devilish grin. Suddenly his hand was at your neck, fingers gently caressing the chain hanging from your ear. “Are these new?”
You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.
“They’re pretty.”
“Thank you,” you practically whispered, trying not to sink to the floor before him.
You excused yourself and made your way back upstairs, wanting to simply escape his commanding presence and seek out a snack to tide you over.
“Don’t spoil your dinner,” he called to you in the kitchen, his footsteps heavy on his way upstairs as well.
You sat with the banana you’d plucked from the fruit bowl and pondered the scene.
Would he strip down in the bedroom or the bathroom? Would he stand under the rushing water for a bit and let the warm water loosen his muscles, hand against the wall, head hanging down? Did he touch himself? He had to touch himself, but did he use a bar or gel? Loofah? Washcloth? Or was he just running his hands all over his body now? How did he dry off? Towel over his head to shuffle those curls? Or bend over and get the legs, drying up the body first? Maybe he started with a swipe across his chest? Did he wrap that towel around his waist or just bare-ass it into the closet for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt? Barefoot? Slippers?
“Are you going to eat that?”
You jumped and dropped the banana that you hadn’t even taken one bite of to the counter.
“Oh, Mr. Walker, you startled me,” you gasped.
“You did seem rather in deep thought there. Anything I can help with?”
Why you expected him to be in a ratty pair of sweats and a t-shirt you’d never know. Mr. Walker had donned an elegant pair of loose linen pants and simple cashmere turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide the muscles he’d been training just half an hour ago. He looked delicious.
“Here,” he reached for the as yet unpeeled banana, “let’s just put this away and get you something more substantial, okay?”
You made some light small talk about your recent semester and watched as he breezed around the kitchen, pulling out packages from the fridge and heating pans on the stove. In a mere matter of minutes he had turned a burner on to boil water and chopped asparagus, tomatoes, broccoli, and yellow peppers. When the water bubbled just right he tossed in a bag of fresh cavatelli. He asked about the rest of your Christmas plans while he sauted the vegetables in a fragrant lemon sauce. After draining the pasta, he tossed it in the pan along with a bit of pasta water, stirring to thicken up the sauce before adding some lemon zest and grated parm. Boyfriends? He asked as he ladled heaping portions into two wide flat bowls and set one down in front of you at the island.
“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” you said as you picked up your fork. “No, not anymore.”
“Please,” he rested his fists on the counter across from you.”I want you to call me August.’
“Okay. August,” you replied, as a jolt of pleasure raced through you straight to your cunt.
“Good girl.”
You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping it was masked as the enjoyment of the bite you took. August Walker wanted you as much as you wanted him. There was absolutely no doubt. When you opened your eyes, his icy blue stare greeted you while his mouth pulled into a sly smirk.
He lounged against the counter across from you, dish in hand, lifting bites of pasta to his mouth and chewing while he listened to you try to explain why it simply wasn’t working out with the men at college. It seemed to you that his breath got deeper with each failed relationship.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, licking an errant drop of sauce off the corner of your mouth. “It just feels like they aren’t really into it.”
“Into what?”
“Well, me. I guess. Into what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
“Something more…” you took a deep breath to stifle the jitters. You were about to proposition your best friend’s dad. “Passionate.”
His eyes widened ever so slightly, brow raised in surprise as if he did not expect that to be your answer. He set his plate down, abandoning the last bite, and slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants. And watched you watch. Yeah. He knew. Saw it the minute you walked in the house two days ago.
You dropped your fork to your plate and slid your chair back, standing to move around the island.
“Can I help with the dishes?”
“Are dishes what you really want to be doing right now?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Not really, no,” you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest. “August.”
He pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them against your cheeks, fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck, but with no pressure at all.
“So, listen. I want you to be really sure about this,” his eyes darted back and forth as he searched yours for any hint of doubt, even as you nodded. When he found none, he bent to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a simple touch, then a swipe of the tongue to ease you open and slip in. The mustache tickled your nose and the scruff felt exactly how you imagined, how you wanted it. You let your mouth fall open and welcomed the gentle probing of his tongue.You whimpered when he pulled away.
He considered you then, for what felt like an eternity before he placed a thumb on your lips and tugged down to your chin then slid his digit into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to gather whatever moisture was available. You closed your lips around his thumb and rolled your eyes back up to him, sucking slowly on his thumb and daring him to pull it out.
He huffed and sneered and pulled his thumb from your lips and tilted your mouth back up to meet his lips crashing down on yours again. When he released your mouth, he licked his lips and then turned you so he could guide you out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs to his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of the bed and you stared up into his ocean-deep eyes.
“My god you are an angel, aren’t you?”
You shivered and gasped, then released your breath slowly. He smirked again.
“You like that? When I call you an angel?”
“I really do,” you whispered.
“Good. Then whenever you’re with me, alone, you are my Angel. Is that okay with you?”
“It is.”
He smiled at you then and pulled his sweater over his head leaving him bare chested in front of you. You raised a hand as if to drift your fingers through the bed of fur covering his chest and tapering down to his stomach. But he stopped you. Grabbed your wrist with one hand and tilted your chin to him with the other, holding your gaze steady and peering deep into your soul to confirm his observation. It was written all over your face. You wanted him to tell you. You wanted him to give you permission. You wanted to hear him say yes. So you asked.
“Can I touch you August?”
“Yes, Angel. You can.” He released your hand and face and you proceeded to touch him. You slid your palm up his stomach to his chest, your fingers snaking through his hair. He heaved a sigh, then placed his hand on your wrist again and pulled you up to standing. You peered into his eyes, bit your lower lip and slid your palm back down, turning your hand so your fingertips hit his waistband first, sneaking under the fabric.
“You sure you’re ready for that right now?” he asked, placing his hand on your wrist for the third time this evening. “I think you might want to rethink that.” He put your hand over the bulge in his pants so you could feel not only how hard he was already but how large. He was silently asking you if you’d ever had a lover whose cock was as big as his and you paused for only a beat.
You knew exactly how you wanted to start. “I’m a thousand percent sure,” you grinned salaciously up at him.
His nod was practically imperceptible, so determined not to let you see how your eagerness was affecting him. How would it look if he were losing all control?
You licked your lips and brought both hands to the drawstring tie, loosening it slowly, then dragging the fabric carefully over his engorged cock. You sat back on the bed as you pushed his pants down his legs, never once letting your eyes leave his.
Not until you were ready to take him in hand did you drop your eyes to drink him in. It was the most glorious sight you could imagine. Long, thick, hard. Jumping slightly as you touched the underside with your fingertips, then settling the weight into the palm of your hands. He had not been wrong at all. No other man you’d been with could compare to his size. And you had absolutely no doubt he knew exactly how to wield it.
You were hypnotized. Even if you’d wanted to look back into his eyes to ask permission before you took him into your mouth, you simply could not tear your gaze away. Your hunger evolved into something more now, and you leaned forward, tucking your tongue under the head while your lips wrapped around him.
You knew there was no way you’d be able to take his full length inside your mouth, but you wanted to try. Wanted to show him you were willing. You gathered your spit and let it glide your mouth over his cock, past the bulbous head and as far down the veiny shaft as you could manage. With a hand firmly gripped around the base, you held him in place while you moved your mouth up and down, letting your tongue drag and circle. You could do this for hours. He might have let you. But the minute you let his tip hit the back of your throat, causing a small gag reflex and a few tears to well in your eyes, he pulled you off.
“Not yet. I’ll have you undone, but not yet.”
You blinked the tears of pleasure quickly away, confused. Charlie had always loved to come in your mouth, knowing an early release would allow him to last longer with you.
“Was it not alright?” you questioned, unsure now if all those boys had been lying when they said you were the best.
“Oh, Angel. It was divine. Do you see how fucking hard I am for you? And you’ll do that again for me. I’ll insist on it. But I want to drink you in myself, first.”
He asked you to undress. You were suddenly reminded of your spur of the moment purchase and would give anything to put yourself on display in it for him. He sensed your cautious excitement, but mistook it for hesitation.
“What is it, Angel? Are you having doubts?” he asked in a gentler tone than he’d been using since you arrived in the bedroom.
“No, August. Nothing like that. I just, well…”
He furrowed his brows at you and urged you to finish your confession.
“I mean, I want this, but I really wasn’t prepared for it to happen. And it’s embarrassing to say, but I have something I’d love to put on for you. Can I do that?”
His relief shifted to a wolfish grin, as he nodded and shifted out of your way. “Please don’t take too long.” He took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke. “I don’t want to take care of this myself.”
You nodded eagerly and rose to stand before him. It took every ounce of restraint not to sprint from the room in an effort to return to him as quickly as possible, but that didn’t feel dignified. You weren’t going to start acting like a schoolgirl in front of August Walker.
Your legs carried you purposefully through the house to your room where you undressed, put your hair up, and quickly showered. After drying off, you fished the romper out of the shopping bags on your bed, tore off the tag carefully, and stepped into the silky piece. Gemma was right, it felt so very luxurious.
A shock of cold rushed through you. How would you ever face Gemma after tonight? It wasn’t as if you’d been scheming for this to happen. But you weren’t saying no, either. You wanted this so badly. Another deep breath. You’d just have to deal with the consequences later. There was no way you were stopping now.
You searched through your luggage for your long, white crochet cardigan with the front tie. You decided to brush your teeth quickly and took a few extra minutes to dab some of your favorite perfume along your neck and wrists. A makeup touch up seemed useless at this point, but you did fix your hair.
You took a final look at yourself in the mirror and blew out the breath you found yourself holding. This was happening.
You climbed the stairs with purpose, noting the low seductive music drifting from the top floor. You smiled at the thought that August liked to use sound to get into the mood as well. You stopped at the door to his bedroom, just as he was coming out of his own en suite, clothed now in a pair of dark blue silk pajama pants that did little to hide his ongoing erection.
“Oh Angel. I thought you’d gotten lost again,” he teased. “Come. Let me look at you.”
He reached out his hands as he moved across the room toward you. He grasped one of your hands and raised it over your head, twirling you around once slowly then dropping your arm as you came back around to face him and tracing his hand down your throat and chest, toying with the bow at the front of your sweater.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
You nodded, wide-eyed, hoping he really loved it as much as he seemed to.
“Well, don’t you look good for me?. It’s a pity this won’t stay on long.” He pulled on the strings and slipped a hand inside the sweater, grazing your side as he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you close for a withering kiss. He palmed a breast with the other hand, rubbing against the hard nub straining through the soft fabric. He pressed the small of your back and moved you inches closer to him, his stiff cock jutting against you.
As he released the kiss, he pushed the sweater off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor behind you, once again taking up your hand and pulling you with him as he moved back to the bed. This time, he sat, legs spread wide so you could step between them.
“This really is very pretty,” he toyed with the thin straps of the romper, sliding a finger under the lace and brushing his knuckle against the top of your breast. “Would you like to keep it on a little longer?”
“I would.”
“Very well then.”
He pulled the straps down your shoulders a few inches tempting you with a state of full undress, then replaced them and moved his hands to your hips, smoothing them around to cup your ass and squeeze. He kept one hand on your lower back, pulling the other back around to the front before pushing a hip just off-kilter. You were now on a slight diagonal to him and that allowed him to more easily slide his hand off your hip and down into the crease of your thigh before he slipped a finger under the silk to trace along your folds.
You watched his eyes darken as he discovered the moisture already accumulated, waiting for him. You bit your lip as he turned his gaze to your eyes.
“You are already so wet, Angel. You’re hungry for this aren’t you?”
“Yes, August. I want you.”
He kept his eyes glued to yours as he dipped two fingers inside your core and you gasped.
“And I want you to fuck yourself on my hand. Will you do that for me Angel?”
Your whole body was buzzing now. No one had ever prioritized your pleasure like this. If you’d had your mouth on a boyfriend’s cock, that’s where it was staying until he came in your mouth or pulled out and slipped inside your pussy. But giving you control of your own orgasm? Exhilarating.
His fingers were curled inside you, stroking and stretching you, smoothing along your walls and seeking out the most delicate spaces as you began to shift your hips against his hand. The heat spread through your body, you relaxed and sank your weight into his hand, your cunt swallowing his fingers deeper. You swept a hand under the curve of your tit, squeezing gently at the hardened nipple while you grabbed a hold of his wrist with your other hand. Using the leverage of his grip, you rocked back and forth into his palm, tossing your head back when he graced you with another curl of his fingers. He had found your spot and was going to exploit that fact, teasing you with a gentle press before spreading his fingers wide inside you.
“Please, August,” you begged.
“Please what Angel?” he smirked. “This is all you.”
You hauled your head back to stare down at him while you undulated your hips, searching for a way to position his fingers where you needed them again.
“Would you put another finger in? Please August?”
He smiled and obliged and you shivered with pleasure, finally beginning to feel the fullness and pressure you needed to reach your peak. If you could just…You snaked your hand around his wrist, moving so you could drag your thumb down beside his and urge it up to the top of your clit. You pressed his thumb into you, guiding his motion and pulling away only when you were sure he would continue on his own.
With his thumb brushing over your pearl, you rocked harder on his fingers, shifting his hand so he had no choice but to curl up into your spot and you held his hand firm in position when he did, praying to all the gods you knew that he would remain right there for just this moment longer.
He stood as soon as you came apart, catching you with an arm around your back as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pulsing pussy.
“Absolutely gorgeous.” He kissed at the heat radiating from your cheeks, then sought your mouth and traced your lips with his tongue, opening you up to him and licking in deep. You moaned as you imagined him doing that again, lower.
“Yes, I know. You’ll get that too,” he declared, pulling away from the kiss. “What do you say, Angel? How do you feel about taking this off now that I’ve seen you so pretty in it?”
You smoothed your hands down your body, enjoying the sensual feel of the silk, still reeling from your orgasm. You nodded as he slipped the straps from your shoulders once more, this time pushing the elastic waistband over your hips and dropping the material to the floor.
August grabbed your ass then slid his hands to your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he turned to face the bed. His kiss was deep and hard as he climbed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, before easing you on your back. With your legs pinned around his waist, he ran his hands along your calves and up to the crease at the top of your thighs where he hooked his thumbs and pressed his fingertips into the flesh of your hips.
You were fully on display for him now. Nothing to stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your body, kindling the flames still licking at your skin. He eased his thumbs toward your apex, caressing your folds and massaging your slick along the edges. He let one thumb circle around your clit, pressing hard when you arched into it. He dipped the same thumb into your core, then withdrew and placed it in his mouth, licking you off his thumb like ice cream and you melted at the site of it.
You felt adored and basked in his worship, tossing your arms over your head and arching your back to press your chest out towards him. He slid his hands up your waist and over your belly to cup and knead your breasts. When he pinched, the pressure was just the other side of comfortable and you hissed with the pain. He eased up, rubbing gently for a moment before squeezing again, with the same intensity. The salacious leer on his side-cocked head sent a wave of pleasure along with the pain and you furrowed your brow and whimpered with content. Satisfied, he let you go and leaned down to kiss you again.
He unhooked your legs and directed you to the top of the bed. You eased back against the tall, plush gray velvet headboard, positioning yourself right in the middle of the California king bed.
“I’m going to eat that delicious pussy of yours now, Angel. And I don’t want you to touch me while I do. I want to try something I think you will enjoy. Will you let me?”
You furrowed your brow and nodded reluctantly, unsure what it would mean.
August climbed up to the head of the bed, knees straddling your waist as he reached behind the headboard. Your heart beat noticeably faster when you saw the thick strands of silk cord he pulled over the top. Holding them both in one hand by the plush lined leather cuffs at the ends of each, he peered down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head slowly once, chin lowered with a shyness you hadn’t yet felt this evening. August grasped your jaw to tilt you towards him.
“Never be embarrassed, sweet thing. This isn’t for everyone. Believe me, I know.” He dropped one line and your chin at the same time, holding the second cuff in front of you and caressing the line. “You have options here. Let me explain. If you want, you could simply hold onto the rope. It’s soft and won’t burn or cut your hands when you squeeze tight. But the risk here is how easy it would be for you to drop it when you are unable to control yourself.”
You blinked with anticipation for the next option, then closed your eyes when he gave you a few more.
“You could always wrap the rope around your wrists or use the cuffs with a loose buckle as well, but still…” He unbuckled the cuff. “I think your best option, the one that will ensure you are able to enjoy every minute of my mouth on you, would be for you to let me tighten these around your wrists.”
He held the cuff wide for you and waited as you opened your eyes to give him an answer. With a wave of confidence surging through your body, you lifted your arm for him.
“Good girl.” He pulled the strap through the buckle and found the right fit with ease. Firm, not too tight, but certainly not loose at all. He tugged your arm down to demonstrate how little reach you had now and raised an eyebrow again with a last chance to beg off. You met his question with an unwavering gaze and he closed and opened his eyelids slowly with a smile before attaching a cuff to your other wrist.
You tested this one yourself with a tug and another thick swallow to calm your nerves and remind yourself you wanted this. So badly.
You could leave your arms winged back toward the headboard or bring your hands in front of your face, with elbows bent close by your side, but you’d never be able to touch him while he was tucked between your legs. As he began to retreat, you reached reflexively for him, even though you were unable to catch him as the rope went taut.
As if reading your mind, he bent then and allowed you to place your hands on either side of his face while he kissed first your brow, then your cheeks below each eye, the corners of your lips. He finally slotted his mouth against yours and you leaned into it and kissed back hard.
You let out a soft whine when he finally pulled away, but he pressed a finger to your lips to quiet you, then held it there as he eased down your inflamed body, rotating soft kisses and sharp nips.
No high school boyfriend had ever gone down on you. And Charlie wasn’t the first in college, but he’d been the best so far. August blew him out of the water.
When he arrived at his destination, he pulled his hand down your throat and over your chest, fingertips skimming your belly and lifting away right before he reached your mound.
He stared at first, eyes devouring the site before him. He tilted his head first one way then the other, as if trying to determine the perfect approach. He pushed your knees wide again when you began to tip them in, nervous about the scrutiny. When he finally eased closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation, but the warm wet sensation never came. You felt only his hands slipping under and around your bent legs, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs and holding you in place. You opened your eyes when you heard him inhale deeply and saw his own eyes flutter shut and open again. As he exhaled, the air drifted and teased, first warming and then cooling across your delicate skin.
He turned to nuzzle into the crook of your thigh, nipping and licking lightly on first one side and then the other. When his beard brushed your skin, you shuddered. It was an exquisite tickle, prickly and soft at once and everything you’d imagined. He pulled his arms from under you then, smoothing his hands along the insides of your thighs and pressing your knees wide and still he wouldn’t touch you where you ached for him.
“Please, August,” you pleaded, head straining toward him.
“Patience, little Angel.”
Only when you placed your head back against the headboard, did he dip low again, still nuzzling gently around the edges of your desire. You felt a brush of fingertips down your inner thigh and the back of a finger running up one side of your aching cunt and down the other. Then a finger along both sides, smoothing up then drifting down. At the bottom he captured your pussy lips between the knuckles of two fingers and squeezed, gently opening and closing and finally providing some of the friction you craved. But as soon as you tried to arch into it, he stopped and pulled his hand away.
“I know what you think you need, Angel. I’m here to tell you there’s more. We’ll get there. And I should have said something sooner. It would be better for you to hear this in a less vulnerable state, but if you want me to stop, at any time, I will. Do you understand?”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to articulate even the word yes properly, but he wanted to hear it.
“Say it.”
“I understand August,” you spoke softly, then cleared your throat and responded with more conviction. “If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”
He placed a hand on your belly now, heel of his palm pressing just above your clit and rocking back yet still avoiding the tender spot. Then he lifted his palm and swept his finger toward your thigh again, massaging the flesh gently between his fingers and thumb. He did the same on the other side and finally, finally, because you were being so good and laying still for him, he eased a knuckle into your slit and held it there.
And then he craned his neck closer, pulled his finger up through your folds, and let his tongue drag in the spot where his finger was. He pressed his thumb onto your clit and rubbed small circles while his tongue lapped at the slick already forming. When he pulled his mouth away, he slid his thumb down inside you, deep and then shallow as he returned to pressing at your clit.
All you wanted was to lift your hips up to meet his pressure, but you sighed out a low moan instead, trying to be good for him. As if to reward your self-control, he let the tip of his tongue meet his thumb at your sensitive nub and then pulled his hand away so he could close his mouth and suck. When he pulled his lips away, he tugged the kernel with him for a moment before letting it go, then rubbing it with his thumb again.
When his mouth met your pussy once more, it was to press his tongue wide and flat into your folds before curling the tip up and in. He repeated this a few more times, tipping deeper and deeper each time while his thumb still strummed along your button before he finally plunged the length of his tongue right into your core and just like that wrapped his lips around your clit to pull out and away.
You closed your eyes, so he couldn’t see them begging him to put his mouth back where you wanted it, but the anticipation was stoking a fire and you didn’t want to put it out just yet. You felt his fingers push up along the soaking path, tipping into the bud and then dragging back down, middle finger dipping in on the return now. He ran this finger up and down, in and out, circling, sliding, coaxing, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore and you were about to break, he pressed his other hand low on your belly and held your hips in place, like he just knew you were about to shift and search for more friction.
When he could sense you would be good for him, he moved the hand from your belly to cup under your thigh before adding a second finger and rubbing them both furiously from side to side briefly, before splitting his fingers and spreading your labia wide. He dove in to kiss your lower lips, tracing the wide opening before licking in deep and you gasped your eyes open at the memory of his earlier kiss and promise.
As if on cue, any tension you’d been holding in your body at the thought of being tied up, forced to remain still, and eaten out while you couldn’t fully participate just vanished. You sank infinitesimally further into the bed, your arms dropped by fractions of millimeters, and your legs fell open even wider.
August knew it. And he rewarded you for it. His mouth was on you in earnest now, kissing, sucking, nibbling, licking, lapping, prodding. His fingers were inside you and on you and around you. Two fingers twisted inside, pressing down and spreading you open. One tongue laved at your core, coaxing the heat and juice from you. When it came, you thought he would stop because this is when they stop and climb up your belly and slide their cocks inside you and grind into the wet wet heat, but he didn’t stop.
No he kept going. He kissed your quivering pussy and tongued along the folds, gathering up as much of your essence as he could. He spun those two fingers up now, caressing your walls and seeking out that most favorable spot. The one he already had you coming on earlier. The one he made you make yourself come on. God, what did it matter who was doing what?
The fact of the matter was, August Walker was giving you your third orgasm of the night with nothing more than his mouth and hands and he still hadn’t let you touch him for very long with either your fingers or your mouth. And he certainly hadn’t placed in cock deep inside your aching cunt.
But what he was doing was continuing to worship at your altar. Well past the point that you could think straight. Was this now four or five? It was all a blur and all you knew was that if August didn’t stop, you might explode. Suddenly it was a problem that you couldn’t move your arms much past your shoulders.
August was past caring about you thrashing your hips with one aftershock after another. Didn’t mind about having to hook his arms under your thighs and tug you back down the bed each time you tried to grasp the wrist cords and pull yourself off his face. He only wanted you to stop straining so he could show you how much better it could be. He wanted you to relax just like you had right before he’d really started in on you in earnest.
You felt his hand snake up your belly between your legs, creep over the swell of your breast, and rest against your collarbone. At first you resisted the weight, but then you welcomed it. Wondered if it might not be better if he just climbed his whole body right up on top of yours and crushed you into the mattress.
But he wasn’t going to do that, because instead he was going to ensure you came one more time while he scissored his fingers inside you and licked you into oblivion. When you screamed his name, he grinned a kiss against your thigh, crawled out from between your knees, and gently, ever so carefully, eased your legs together and unbent them.
He traced his hand back up your heaving belly and chest, wrapped his fingers around your throat and tilted your neck towards him.
“So, so beautiful when you come, Angel. I wanted it to last forever for you.”
You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue and whimpered into his mouth because you suddenly realized you wanted that too and it was too late.
“Is it too late?” you whispered and he chuckled at you.
“You should pace yourself.” He knelt beside you and unbuckled your wrists, kissing each one as he freed you from the cuffs, then dropping to his back beside you. “Thank you, for opening yourself to me.”
“How in the world are you thanking me after that?” you laughed, still shaking from the explosions, but moving toward your next goal. “And also... Can I get back to this now?”
You began to scoot down between his legs, dragging his silky pants with you and tossing them to the floor.
“If you’re sure you're ready.”
You trailed your fingers up his thighs as you moved back into position on your belly. He was still hard as rock when you reached for him. You licked your lips at the sight, then sent your eyes straight to his while your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock with a smile. You worked him slow and methodically, tonguing along his length, tasting his warmth. You were salivating for this man, dribbling spit to help ease your tour of his member, and yet you knew you’d never reach the base. You let your hand twist around him, squeezing and grabbing while you worked your mouth down to meet it.
“Your mouth feels so good on me, Angel. You like doing that, don’t you?”
You peered at him through your lashes and nodded, attempting another wide smile to agree. His hands smoothed up your arms, over your shoulders, and into your hair. You didn’t need him to hold your head against his cock, but he grunted and shifted his hips to press deeper into your mouth. You would have done this for him all night. Let him lay back and enjoy being worshiped the way he had worshiped you.
But with one hand on your nape and one right on top of your head, August helped himself to the pleasure you were offering without hesitation and began fucking your mouth in earnest. With each thrust, you felt him edge deeper until he finally found the back of your throat.
“There you go,” he grunted. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so deep.”
You could do nothing more than open wide and let him drive, feeling the saliva drip from your mouth with no opportunity to swallow. He set a steady, punishing pace and while you were enjoying it, you also couldn’t help but imagine this must be what your aching pussy would feel like shortly. Your tears were flowing freely now, too, spurred on by the constant stimulation.
Suddenly, he pulled you off and you were confused for one brief, maddening moment until you heard him command you.
“Hands and knees.”
You pressed yourself up as he shifted to his knees as well before returning his hands to your head and dragging your mouth down his cock once again. You felt his grip on your hair at your neck tighten, his pace even faster than before. In just moments, with your watering eyes rolled up as far as they could go to watch him sneer down at you, you felt his release coat the back of your throat, hot and salty, as he came with a growl.
He hauled you up, shifting his knees forward to meet you, pressing his chest against you, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the tears from your cheeks and praised you. He settled back against the headboard, taking you with him and scooping your legs over his, nestling your head against his chest and holding you close. You could feel his heart pounding, the intensity matched only by the speed at which yours beat. His fingers traced along your spine, caressing your shoulder and at the same time he held your hip on his lap and tortured you with tender touches along the flesh of your thighs and legs.
You trailed your fingers over his chest and angled your head to nip at his neck.
“Was that okay?” he asked, uncharacteristically soft. You bit the urge to respond with sarcasm.
“I loved every second of it.” You punctuated your response with a kiss, cupping his cheek and tonguing his mouth open to lick into the softness.
He groaned and kissed you back for what felt like forever until you began to feel a nudge at your thigh. You reached down between your heated bodies to find him, wrapping your hands around his girth and stroking him to full erection. Without breaking the kiss you began to shift, sliding a leg to either side of his hips. Just as you had raised up, ready to slide him deep inside you, he gripped your shoulders tight and pulled away.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
Without answering, he easily lifted and deposited you on your back beside him, before rolling to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled out a foil packet and bottle of lube.
“Because I care about you.” He tore the packet and pulled out the condom then squeezed a few drops of lube in before rolling it over his engorged length. He added a few more drops and pumped a few times, before dropping to his back again beside you.
“Now, where were we?” he grinned.
He slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you to him, guiding your leg over his hip again. On your knees, you took him in hand but before you could position his tip at your entrance, he pressed two fingers deep in your slit, massaging and stroking, scissoring you wide. You felt the heat building again and dropped your head back with a moan, still dragging your hand up and down his length. Your pussy was squelching with the juice he was coaxing and you felt his hand slip out then wrap around yours as you both directed him inside you.
With just the tip, you already felt fuller than you ever had and you sat with that feeling for a moment, hands still wrapped around the rest of his cock and keeping you from sliding all the way down.
Once you felt yourself relax around him, you nudged his hand away with your own and began to sink, slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation. His hands gripped your hips all the while as he gazed in wonder and concern.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fucking fantastic,” you replied, rocking back slightly to view the point of his disappearance inside you.
“Do you remember what I told you before?’ he asked, a little more heat and darkness creeping into his voice.
“I can stop you at any time.”
“Yes. And if you can’t get the words out, pinch me.”
You were going to nod your understanding, but remembered he liked to hear it as much as you did. “Yes, August.”
“Good girl.”
August began a slow roll of his ups, nudging up into you and shifting you off balance for a moment. You caught yourself with your hands on his chest, then sat back up to start a slow grind of your own. For several long minutes it was just you riding him slowly, like an easy afternoon stroll, completely in sync with his movements.
When he began to pump faster, you braced your hands on his legs behind you trying to hold on for dear life. He gripped you by the hips and held you in place while bucked and then he ran his hands up your sides and hauled you down to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close, kissed you so hard, rocked even deeper into you than you ever thought possible and just when you thought it was about to hit you like a ton of bricks, he flipped you to your back.
He started a slower pace now, still holding you close, still ravishing your mouth. But when you wrapped a leg around his back, he lifted himself onto his arms and looked down between you then over to the leg at his side. With a devilish grin, he reached back and under that leg, shifting it up over his shoulder. He picked up the pace, returning to the steady jackhammering you’d experienced while on top. And while you didn’t think deeper was possible, here he was, moving your limbs around to find more space. He pulled your other leg up now, no longer leaning forward, but up on his knees, holding you open before him while he pounded away.
This was more than you’d ever felt before. This was precision fucking at it finest and you were barely holding on.
“You can let go, Angel. You can come around my cock, squeeze me hard. I won’t break,” he commended you, letting go of one leg and reaching down to massage your clit again with his thumb. That was all it took.
“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!”
“That’s it, Angel. I can feel you right now,” he growled. “Feel all the heat bursting inside you, feel your walls squeezing around me. Can you feel it?”
“Yes, yes, fuck yes. My god. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck! Please,” you pleaded, panting and feeling like you were about to pass out. “Please.”
“Please what, Angel?”
“Please…” you didn’t exactly want him to stop but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either.
“Do you need me to stop?”
“I want you to come. Please August.”
He clenched his jaw and gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out and flipping you one more time to your hands and knees. You could barely hold yourself up, sinking to your forearms, head into the mattress. But your ass was still in the air and your pussy was still on display for him and he took you one more time. He lined himself up again behind you, sheathed himself in one long simple stroke, holding still for one moment.
“You're still coming, I can feel it. God, you are amazing. You’re taking me so good.”
Incoherent babble is all he got in return. Even if you’d wanted him to stop, you could no longer form full words, let alone sentences. And how would you ever find the strength to reach back to even graze his skin, let alone pinch it? Whatever. You were riding a wave of the longest high you’d ever been on while August resumed his magnificent assault on you.
After a few more strokes, you felt him swell even larger than he already was, filling you up more fully than he already had. With one final animal roar, he released himself with a hand pressing against your lower back, slowing stilling as he filled the condom inside you. You shuddered with an aftershock and wanted to drop to your belly with him on top and never pull that blanket off.
After just a short moment, you felt his hand at your entrance, fingers drifting lightly through your folds before he gathered himself and the condom in hand and pulled all the way out for good. He pushed against you lightly to urge you flat. You vaguely registered words of praise coming from his mouth, but you were so spun off into oblivion you couldn’t be sure what they were.
From some far off place, you heard water running, then felt a dip beside you, and the wet warmth of a tender caress between your shaking legs. Somehow, you were maneuvered to your back to receive another gentle swipe, before you felt his lips press against your mouth, his tongue seeking your own.
It took everything you had to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze.
“Is that what you meant by passion?” he asked.
“It’s a start.”
August chuckled and gently eased himself to the side of the bed, swinging his legs off and standing. He tilted his head from side to side, loosening a few kinks before he strode with purpose into the bathroom. When he returned, he held out a blue silk robe and helped you into it once you stood from the bed. He tied the belt around your waist, then reached to the floor for his matching pants. As he stood, he gathered you in his arms for another kiss before he took your hand and led you back downstairs.
Trailing behind him, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself deposited on the deep plush conversation sofa. August flipped on the switch to the gas fireplace and leaned over to drop one more kiss on your lips, then told you to sit tight.
The warm glow of the fire mesmerized and hypnotized you, not that it was hard. You had been overstimulated and now the exhaustion was settling in. You felt high, completely spaced out. You had never felt so thoroughly and completely fucked in your entire short life.
August returned a few moments later. Or was it hours? You had no idea. All you knew was that he placed a live edge wooden serving tray holding a few bottles of water, some fruit and cheese, a few small bowls of olives, almonds, and fig jam, some cut baguette, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of bubbly on the low ottoman in front of you, then eased himself onto the couch next to you.
“Let’s get you hydrated,” he leaned forward and grabbed a bottle from the tray.
“How did you know I’d want that?” you teased, harkening back to your first night home.
“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” August opened the bottle and pulled you close, tipping the cool, sweet water into your open mouth, eyes watching you closely to see when you’d had enough.
“Only for you,” you purred, reaching for the bottle so you could take another drink for yourself. When you pulled the bottle away from your lips, August bent to steal another kiss from you.
“A little dangerous, too.” He shifted a knuckle along your jaw, catching the soft indent in your chin to bring your face back to his. He kissed you for what felt like a millenia and you could have stayed that way all night. And then it hit you.
“Dangerous how?” you asked, when you pulled away reluctantly.
August closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, still leaning forward from the broken kiss. He sat up straighter when he exhaled and opened his eyes.
“My sweet Angel. I really didn’t mean to spoil our moment, but in a million years could you ever imagine this night could happen again?”
He held your gaze, and wouldn't let you turn away. You could see the anguish in his eyes. This wasn’t a lie.
“But why would…?”
“You deserve to know the passion you crave. I wanted to help you learn about your desire. You are a strong, intelligent, thoughtful, and gorgeous woman. I wanted you to see you are capable of getting everything you want. You only need to be sure of it. And perhaps understand you can ask for more.”
“But I want you.”
August didn’t reply immediately and in the silence you knew he was thinking of exactly the same person you now were. If you were ever going to keep this night a secret from her, you’d have to make it a solitary event with no hope of a repeat. How were you ever going to deny your craving?
“Come here.” August set your bottle of water aside and drew you into his arms, leaning back against the sofa as you relaxed onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head and ran a hand slowly up and down your back.
“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.
“Life rarely is, Angel. Come on, let’s just enjoy the time we do have. What d’you say, hmm?”
You nodded and sniffed away the beginnings of your tears. August gently sat you up, then prepared small bites of food from the tray and brought them to your lips. You soaked in all the attention, certain you’d never feel so safe and loved again in your life.
With some energy back, you felt your mood lighten. August was right. You should make the most of what time you have left. You reached for the champagne bottle, peeled off the foil wrap, and untwisted the thin metal cage surrounding the cork. August chuckled as he watched you struggle with the cork, so you stuck out your tongue and handed the bottle to him.
“Please?” He popped the cork with ease and poured the golden liquid for you both.
“A toast?” He raised his glass to yours and watched closely as you mulled it over.
“To one night only.”
“One night only.” He smiled with a nod and watched as you took a sip, then stole a kiss before taking a drink from his own glass. He grabbed a strawberry from the tray and held it to your lips as you took a bite. “Now another drink.”
You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth.
“When you try this on your own, be sure to get an extra-dry champagne,” August cautioned. “Moet brut won’t work with this flavor combination.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind when I replenish my champagne cooler at school,” you teased. “What about this one?” You took another bite of strawberry and a sip of champagne, then leaned in for a kiss letting the flavors swirl in your mouth alongside his tongue. August continued the kiss, even as he set his glass aside and grabbed for yours to set it down as well.
He eased you to your back on the couch and slipped the tie loose from your robe before he finally broke the kiss.
“That’s also a good one. You’re quite the quick study.” He pushed the fabric aside, baring your chest and stomach, then appraised you for a moment before running his fingers over your breasts and down your belly, letting his mouth follow the trail.
You let out a soft moan and spread your legs involuntarily as he shifted to the floor and tugged your hips around so your ass was hanging off the sofa to give him better access. He let your legs rest over his shoulders and you sighed as he once again slipped his tongue and fingers through your folds, ravishing your core to bring another orgasm crashing over you.
You barely had a moment to recover before you felt the belt of your robe sliding out from underneath you and in a swift heartbeat, August had you flipped over, urging you onto your knees on the cushions with your arms leaning on the back of the couch. You peered back at him, while he shifted the fabric of the robe over your back, letting it drape off to the side and leaving your bare ass and legs completely exposed to him. He watched you carefully as he rubbed a large hand over one cheek, then drew back and spanked you hard. He was already caressing the red mark before the shocked gasp left your lips. He quirked an eyebrow at you in a silent question. Again?
You pondered the feeling and decided that yes, August Walker could spank your ass. You turned your head to peer over the back of the couch and jutted your hips back towards him wordlessly asking for more, which he gladly gave. The sharp smacks were sometimes single, sometimes doubled up, but always tempered with a gentle caress before he dealt another blow.
You were dripping for him. When he dragged two fingers through your soft petals to gather the nectar, you glanced back to see him wrap his lips around his fingers and lick your taste off them. Then he reached his hand in the pockets of his pants and withdrew another foil square before dropping his pants altogether.
“You planned this,” you cried in feigned scandal.
“I hoped for it. Not the same thing,” he gently replied, rolling the condom over his swollen length. “But it’s always good to be prepared. Speaking of which…”
August reached forward to grasp the silk belt he’d tossed aside, then drew one of your arms back behind you.
“May I have your other arm, Angel?”
You offered it without hesitation, shifting off the back of the couch so that all your weight was now on your knees. You felt him loop the belt around both wrists separately before he wrapped the tie a few more times around both. Holding the binds of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to guide his sheathed cock to your soaked pussy, gliding easily into your core. Once his hips met yours, he started a commanding pace, pumping in and out of you all the while holding you in place with your hands.
As if he could feel you losing control, unable to stay up straight any longer, August let the belt slips a few inches through his fingers before gripping tight again, giving you enough room to bend forward and rest your chest on the back of the couch while he continued to pump in and out of you with a devastating pace, the juice from you squelching around his cock.
“You fucking take me so good, Angel. Such a pretty pussy. Can you hear her talking to me? She says the sweetest things.”
He set a hand on your low back and pressed his against your stretched entrance, letting it drag along his cock as he moved back and forth and gathering some of your slick on the pad. You felt him ease his hand up, fingers pressing into the flesh of your asscheeks before he teased around your puckered rim with his thumb. When the moan escaped your mouth he knew he was on the right path and wasted no more time. He slipped his thumb right into your hole and held on while you bucked back against him.
“Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you? Fucking my cock so good. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. August, fuck yes.” You could barely form more words so moans of pleasure and squeals of delight were all he heard but they were enough to spur him on and lead him down the path of his own release just as soon as he felt yours.
With one practiced tug, he released you from the bind and eased himself out of your still pulsing pussy, then guided you to stand before him, pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck while he pulled the spent condom off his softening dick. He grabbed a napkin from the tray and wrapped it in a wad before spinning you to face him and kissing you hard.
“Let’s get cleaned up.”
He led you upstairs one last time, abandoning the snack platter and half-full champagne bottle. He took you through to his bathroom, turned on the warm spray jets of the tiled shower, then disrobed you completely. You stepped into the glass cabinet and turned to grab his arm to bring him with you.
Without prompting, he grabbed a bar of the same bright citrus scented soap you always found in your guest room and lathered you up. If you weren’t about to fall asleep on your feet, you’d succumb so easily to the way his fingers danced across your skin, caressing every nook and cranny like they knew the way by heart. He spun you into the water to rinse and set to cleaning himself.
And now you had your answer. It was body wash, with a woodsy, pine scent. He rubbed it all over his body with his bare hands. He watched you watching, mesmerized at the way his muscles moved and the carefree way he gathered his own package and lathered it with suds before shifting you gently out of the way and rinsing off under the cascading water.
Yes, he leaned an arm against the wall, but that could be just because you were with him and he wanted to encase you while he kissed you, tongue probing gently and mouths moving in unison. He groaned as he pulled away.
“We’d better get some sleep.”
The fluffy towel he dried you with was heavenly against your skin. He toweled himself as well before leading you back to his bed.
“Are you comfortable sleeping here with me tonight?” he asked. “If you’d rather wake up in your own bed, I’d understand.”
It was uncharacteristically sweet, the way August was now wondering how you would feel in the morning, knowing you could never have him again.
“I’d like to stay with you for tonight, if that’s okay.”
“More than okay.” He pulled the covers back and slipped in, holding them up for you to join him. Wrapped in his arms, head against his chest, you found yourself drifting off faster than you would have liked. You loved pillow talk, but supposed you’d managed that with him before, during, and a little after downstairs by the fire. Besides, pillow talk was for lovers. Which you were now assured you were not.
You woke later than you’d planned, your body still clearly recovering from the unexpected vigorous activity. August was not with you and though you knew the morning would not be a time to whisper sweet nothings, still you’d hoped to wake in his arms, just as you’d fallen asleep. The robe he’d lent you last night was draped across the foot of the bed and your lingerie was folded neatly on a chair nearby.
You shrugged into the robe and grabbed your things, then headed downstairs where you could smell coffee already brewed but found no sign of August in the kitchen. You continued down to your room where you realized you’d left your phone all night. Shit.
When you picked it up, there were about ten messages from Gemma and you braced yourself as you opened the app to read them. Yes, in the end she wondered where the fuck you were and why you weren’t answering her but there was no urgent call to get her immediately. The night with Mike seemed like it had gone exactly as planned.
She only wanted to let you know Mike’s friends were throwing a New Year’s party and of course you were invited. Mike even had a university friend coming in from out of town for the party and Gemma wanted to set you up with him. The guy in the picture she sent looked cute enough. Apparently he sailed and had dark, wavy hair, a little shorter than Mike’s. His smile was amazing, but to your eyes, he was a boy. He would never compare, you were sure.
Just as you were contemplating how to let him down gently, your phone rang and Gemma’s number appeared. You took a deep breath and hoped nothing in your voice would betray you.
“Hey!” you answered brightly.
“Whoa, too much. Too loud. Calm down.” Gemma was hungover, for sure.
“Sorry,” you quieted. “Everything okay?”
“I think I drank a liquor store last night. Mike’s still passed out, but I need my bed. Can you come get me?”
“Now? Yeah. Of course. Let me just get my shoes on. See you in thirty?”
Gemma agreed, though she wished you’d ignore some of the speed signs along the way and you laughed, promising to grab a Vitamin Water from the fridge before you left.
You noticed another message come through just as you hung up with Gemma. August was in his office. He didn’t want you to think you’d been abandoned, but he had to get an early start for meetings and wanted to let you sleep in. You texted him you were off to get Gemma. Chat bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before a solitary frowny face finally appeared.
With no idea how to respond and not a lot of time to spare hashing it out, you dressed quickly, grateful you’d already washed off last night’s extravagance. You grabbed the keys to Gemma’s car, grabbed a water from the gym, and headed back out to the garage.
Gemma was still too dazed to inquire much about why you were absent from your phone last night and you didn’t offer any conversation about it. The whole drive was pretty quiet except for the radio. August was gone when you got back and while Gemma couldn’t care less, you were a little let down. You’d hoped you’d be able to at least sit with him a bit while Gemma slept off the rest of her hangover, but that wasn’t to be.
He kept himself pretty scarce the rest of the week, too, texting Gemma he wouldn’t be home for dinner any of the nights until you were scheduled to head back home for Christmas Eve. Four long-suffering nights and days filled with late breakfasts by the pool and dinner and drinks in town with Mike and other friends. You barely got to say goodbye to August as he breezed off to one final meeting the morning of the 24th before Gemma came upstairs to grab coffee.
Christmas was low key with just the six of you at your parents. No other relatives were traveling in and no one else nearby had invited you over for anything special. Gemma always celebrated alone with her dad, too. Your aunt wanted to take you and your mom to the sales the day after Christmas and that was an all day, exhausting affair. You were in bed by 9.
Over the next five days, you visited with Gemma and Mike, old high school friends, and your parents a few times. But never August. Gemma said as wonderful as Christmas was with him, he was stressing about the deal and spending all his time at the office since the day after. He needed to get the deal signed by the 31st at the absolute latest. And his company’s New Year’s Eve gala was set for the Grand Hotel downtown. He’d offered you both tickets, but Gemma really wanted to hang out with Mike.
Will was nice enough, if a little on the arrogant side. He was a good kisser and you could kinda imagine what he might be able to do with that mouth placed somewhere else, but then you really thought about it and decided the missing facial hair would change the feel. Nevermind. He was at least gracious about the letdown.
The drive back to school was a little somber. You were still trying to figure out if there was any possibility of a roommate swap. Gemma offered to just put you up at her place for the semester, but you didn’t want to sleep on a couch fantasizing about her father while she was in the other room. Maybe Brigette would just spend all her time at Charlie’s, like you should have.
A few days after the start of classes, a small package arrived for you in your mailbox. You’d grabbed it on the way to your Criminal Procedures lecture and stuck it in your backpack to open later. When you got back to your room after taking advantage of office hours to clear the theme for your research paper, you sat cross legged on your bed and opened the small, cardboard box. Inside, nestled in tiny, delicate packing peanuts, was an even smaller, embossed white paper sleeve surrounding a small, red velvety square box.
Inside was a thin, delicate gold chain, with a charm of black onyx arranged in the gold outline of an art deco wing. An angel's wing.
You searched the box for a card and finally found one buried under the packing material once you realized you’d opened the box upside down. There was a simple message to you.
'Angel. This belongs on the part of you I never got the chance to chain. Remember all you are worth and take it as you can. Yours for one night. - A’
Taglist (if you are crossed out I can’t tag you)
Anything: @kittenofdoomage @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @feelmyroarrrr @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @mollymal @summersong69 (Old times sake? @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sebbytrash @anotherwinchesterfangirl )
Holiday Angel: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings @plaidcat4815 @augustsprincess @alexakeyloveloki @gofirityouguys
#august walker#august walker x reader#august walker fanfic#august walker fanfiction#august walker au#ceo!august walker#ceo!august#best friend's dad#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#holiday angel#mine
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First Date: Frankie Morales
HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY Y'ALL!
Masterlist
AO3 link
Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Summary: Based on this tumblr Ask. A full one-shot based on a quick little headcanon drabble I wrote about what a first date with Frankie Morales might look like. There's a little of backstory for Reader because it's me and you know I just can't help myself.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Fluff and smut (because we like to strike a delicate balance here). Porn with a sprinkle of plot (again, delicate balance). Cuteness overload during your date with Frankie (sign me up for this date please). Heavy makeout session. Mutual masturbation. Fooling around in the back of Frankie's truck because of uh... reasons. Read to find out! I think that's it for warnings. As far as my stuff goes I'd say this is pretty tame? lol. But if I missed anything lmk!
Notes: I hope there aren't any glaring mistakes here. If I find any I'll come back and edit. Tbh I wrote 99% of it on my phone because our wifi was down for THREE DAYS here (RIP me!). It finally came back this morning just in time for me to post this for Frankie Friday ❤️
You tap your phone’s screen to illuminate it and check the time for probably the fifteenth time in as many minutes to make sure you’re not running late yet as you stand over the bathroom counter putting the final touches on your appearance, wanting to look perfect for tonight. Nerves flutter in your tummy like butterflies and you have to constantly remind yourself to calm down, take it easy.
“It’s just Fish, nothing to get yourself all worked up about” Benny had offered earlier, unhelpfully.
Sure, to your cousins Benny and Will it was just their longtime friend and military buddy, but to you it was the very cute, though very shy, sweet guy that you had met for the first time only recently since you came to “temporarily” crash at your cousins place.
Temporarily had turned into three months far faster than you anticipated. You needed a fresh start, to get out of a not great situation and it was actually your Aunt who had suggested the move to you during your phone call to her on her birthday. Your mother had already been filling her ear with your personal drama it seemed and though she didn’t want to pry, she did want to help and she suggested getting away for even a couple of weeks, that her sons had lots of room at their place and would be happy to have you for a while. After a few phone calls with both Will and Benny they had settled any doubts you might’ve had and welcomed you with open arms when you showed up at their doorstep with little more than a single roller suitcase and a small potted plant under your arm. It was about all the possessions you had left after the less than amicable split with your ex that left you couch surfing at your friends for months before the transition to Will and Benny’s.
So now here you stand, in the bathroom of the guest bedroom you have been calling your own for three months, getting ready for a date with the painstakingly handsome pilot himself, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales.
You know how badly your cousins have been teasing you about the date, you can’t even begin to imagine the ribbing Frankie must have been taking from them since he’d asked you out last Sunday at a barbecue Will and Benny had been hosting and they’d somehow gotten wind of it. You’re surprised Frankie even kept the date, to be honest. Your cousins, you love them with all your heart, but they can be… a lot. You’re very glad Frankie didn’t back down to the pressure though. You’d seen him a fair bit in your few months here and have been dying for him to finally ask you out. You’d flirted enough and though he’d been quiet and shy in the beginning, the more you got to know each other, the more he seemed to come out of his shell around you.
So now here you were, moments before Frankie was due to show up at your door and you silently cursed yourself for not being as ready as you should be. You wanted to be ready and standing outside by now so that Will and Benny couldn’t get any more jabs in to poor sweet Frankie if he had to stand at the door waiting for you, but as you pull on the short, light denim jacket over your sundress you hear a bark of laughter from Benny and already you know you’re too late.
You quickly press some lip gloss on, run your hands through your hair to make sure it’s falling exactly how you want it to and then take a deep breath in the mirror and quickly scurry out of the bedroom to hopefully save the man that is standing outside on the porch.
“No keeping her out past curfew, no drinkin’ and drivin’, no crazy parties or gettin’ too handsy on the first date”
Benny is listing things off on his fingers to poor Frankie like he’s your father scalding your prom date and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“Will, you said you’d both be nice” you complain out loud to the older of the two brothers. Will wasn’t much better, but sometimes talking to Benny was like talking to a toddler amped up on a pack of Skittles, there was no getting through when he got over excited about something.
The most ridiculous part about it was that you and Benny were about the same age so it was a little comical, though sweet in his own way, how he tried to ‘big brother’ you.
“Ah c’mon Ace, we were just joshin’ him a bit” Will replies, bright white smile gleaming at you with a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Ace of course being the nickname they had stuck you with since you were old enough to remember. Any family event you’d ever attended whenever there was any sort of game or sport going on the two boys always ensured you were on their team, likely because you were the only one close in age to them but you liked to tell yourself that it was also because the three of you always had fun together. They have always been so competitive and any time they won (largely due to their own efforts) they were sure to tell everyone that it was all because of you, that you were ‘the ace up their sleeve’ even when you barely did anything. Hell most softball games you preferred to sit in the grass picking flowers while they ran circles around you like pro athletes, but it was sweet how they always made sure to include you and make you feel good about yourself.
“Well we agreed you two goons wouldn’t scare him away” you remind them with a playful roll of your eyes and a swat to Benny’s shoulder when you finally reach the doorway.
You can see Frankie’s appreciative gaze roam over you from head to toe and as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nervously adjusts his ball cap you know he’s itching to say something to you but probably weighing the pros and cons in his head about the two extra sets of ears hearing what’s meant only for you and so you decide for him. You shove past your two cousins, quickly tell them you love them and not to wait up and push them far enough back in the house so you can slam the door shut, finally leaving you on the porch with just Frankie.
“Hi” you breathe out, a smile spreading across your lips. He looks casual but deliciously handsome in a pair of dark tan khaki pants and an untucked light blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, putting his tanned and muscular forearms on display. He still has his infamous Standard Oil hat on, hints of chocolate brown curls peeking out from underneath it. You don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him without it, come to think of it. You try to picture him without it and an image just doesn’t come.
“You look beautiful” he tells you, a hint of shyness in his tone and a blush rises in your cheeks that didn’t come from a makeup stick.
“Thank you. I’m sorry about tweedle-dee and tweedle-A-D-D in there” you joke, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder at your two cousins who are currently fighting each other over who gets to look through the small pane of glass next to the door to watch your interactions with Frankie on the front step.
“Unfortunately I’m very used to it” he quips, giving you a warm smile. “Shall we?” He asks, sweeping an arm out towards his truck idling at the curb and you nod your head and lead the way.
Before you reach the truck however Frankie jogs up behind you to brush past and ensures he reaches the passenger door handle before you do and opens it wide, offering you a hand to help you up and inside. You both decide to ignore the whooping yells and hands slamming on the glass next to the door at the top of the walkway behind you.
“Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?” You offer once Frankie’s climbed into the driver's seat next to you and he chuckles but nods his head.
“With pleasure” he agrees and pulls the truck away from the curb.
You’re driving for nearly an hour. Frankie had apologized already on several occasions, admonishing himself for not preparing you beforehand to make sure you wouldn’t be too hungry when he picked you up. You tell him it's fine countless times but he still admits he should’ve discussed his plan with you ahead of time.
“Hey, if what you say is true and these really are the best tacos I’ve ever had, you’ll not only be forgiven but I’ll be glad I was ravenous by the time we get there” you tell him and finally he seems to accept it and offers you a small smile, hand going to the dial on the radio to turn the classic rock tunes up just a little bit for the last few minutes of your drive.
The drive is nice. The ocean follows along in your journey when you look out your window and the way the sun sits in the sky you know it’ll be threatening to set not long after you arrive at your destination. Truth be told you were a little nervous when you first started driving and Frankie mentioned how long the trip would be. You worried that you wouldn’t have much to chat about or that it might get awkward but it had been anything but. Besides Frankie’s little bouts of anxiety about whether or not he should’ve mentioned to you what time you’d actually be eating, everything was going better than you had expected. The conversation seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had enough jumping off points, with both of you having more than your fair share of stories or anecdotes about Will and Benny. You shared stories of your youths while Frankie caught you up on some of the more recent goings-on with them that you hadn’t been privy to since, before recently, you obviously spent a lot less time with them in your adult years versus the childhood ones. Before long the conversations shifted more to yourselves and your own personal lives and before you knew it Frankie was pulling the truck into a crowded parking lot in front of the beach.
You make your way through the throngs of people on the boardwalk, Frankie’s warm hand on your lower back a steadying presence as he guides you through the crowds towards the brightly painted green and yellow food truck off in the not-too-far distance. Your mouth is watering already and you’re not sure whether it’s for the tacos or the man on your left with the broad shoulders and thick arms but a gentle, calming touch.
If you had to venture a guess, it would be for the latter.
Frankie, to his credit, was absolutely right about the tacos. You’re halfway through your third one when you finally tap out and call it quits, unable to possibly stomach another bite - despite how delicious they are.
“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t” you admit defeat to what’s left of your dinner, tossing your napkin on top of your paper plate and holding your hands up in surrender and the corner of Frankie’s mouth curls up into a smirk.
“They’re good right?” He grins at you from across the picnic table while he stuffs the last bite of his own into his mouth and you roll your eyes dramatically at how good in fact they were.
“They were amazing, seriously. Well worth the drive and the wait” you tell him sincerely and then before you can talk yourself out of it you reach across the table to place your hand on top of his and give a little squeeze with your fingers.
“Thank you for dinner. I’m um… really glad you asked me out tonight”
That confession earns you an ear to ear grin from Frankie who swallows down the last bit of his dinner and then turns his hand palm-up so he can hold your fingers in his grasp.
“Me too. But, the night’s not over” he offers with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.
“There’s more?” Your brow line lifts to your forehead. “I’m going to need a few minutes to digest first” you laugh, placing a hand over your stomach and Frankie chuckles but nods his head in agreement.
“Take all the time you need,” he tells you.
The sun is beginning its descent from the sky as you sit at the table a while longer, happily chatting about everything and nothing. You ask Frankie more about his young daughter and can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips the way his face lights up when he speaks about her or shows you his favourite pictures or videos of her on his phone.
With your food finally settled you’re back to wandering the boardwalk again with Frankie leading the way. He stops you at an ice cream truck and you groan at the idea of having to shove more food into your stomach but the childish grin and teasing nudge to your side with his elbow convinces you to take him up on his offer anyway and you ask for small scoop of the bright orange Tiger Stripe flavour in a dish while Frankie opts for a waffle cone of classic Mint Chocolate Chip.
With no small effort you manage to finish the sweet dessert and toss your garbage into a nearby receptacle and Frankie nudges your shoulder with his and gestures with an outstretched arm towards the beach.
“Wanna go walk it off?” He suggests and you give him an easy smile, more than excited about taking a romantic walk down the beach at sunset with him.
The warm sand squishes between your toes as you walk the length of the beach. Frankie had insisted on carrying your shoes for you when you opted to take them off; the strappy sandals hanging from the fingertips of his right hand while his left brushes experimentally against the back of your right and you turn your palm towards him and he wastes no time taking hold, your fingers interlacing. You smile and press a little closer into his shoulder.
“This is perfect” you sigh as soft waves lap at your feet and the sun bids it’s final adieu for the evening, disappearing just past the horizon on the other side of the ocean.
“So I did good?” Frankie smirks at you and you let out a little laugh, nodding your head.
“Ten out of ten would recommend” you answer without hesitation.
“Recommend to who? If you think I’m taking Benny on a date next you’re poorly mistaken” he jokes and it earns an outburst of laughter from you as you grab onto his forearm with your free hand and lean further in still.
“You guys could make a pretty cute couple” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head in laughter.
“Already got the prettiest Miller on my arm, thank you very much” he affirms and your giggles die down as the blush re-emerges and you turn your gaze down to the sand at your feet and squeeze his arm just a little tighter as a thank you to his easy compliment.
You walk a little while longer, your fingers still entwined and your free hand wrapped around his arm that’s holding your hand, snuggling as close as possible while you continue to chat and joke and tease each other.
Being with Frankie seems so easy. Normally you were so nervous during first dates and it’s been so long since you’ve actually been on one you could barely remember what it normally feels like but you’re certain it’s never felt like this. You felt comfortable. And maybe a lot of that had to do with the fact that you’ve already met with and hung out with him on numerous occasions now there was less to be nervous about. But you think it’s mostly him. He’s so easy going and calm to be around; he just puts you at ease with one upward curve of his lips or the way his soft brown gaze seemingly bores into your very soul with a single look.
Besides that, you knew he must be a pretty decent guy or Will and Benny would’ve had something (aside from friendly teasing) to say about it. They were the big brothers you never had growing up, always looking out for you until your lives took you all down very separate paths and if they trusted Frankie with you, you knew you were in good hands.
Hands that were currently, mind you, smoothing up and down your sides as Frankie pressed you into the passenger door of his pickup as you stood on the street outside your temporary home saying your goodnights.
“Kiss me” you breathe into the limited space between your two bodies that are thrumming with unspent energy.
Not bothering with a verbal response, Frankie closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours finally for that first kiss you’ve been craving since he picked you up hours ago. He tastes like mint and chocolate, and although normally it would be one of the last options you go for at the ice cream shop, the way it tastes on Frankie’s tongue instantly makes it your new favourite.
The energy in the cab of his truck the whole ride back had been tangible, his right hand on your thigh, yours trying not to dig into the plush material of the seats as you tried to focus your mind on anything other than ordering him to pull the truck into park so you could crawl into his lap and thank him properly, the way you wanted to so badly.
“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, his mouth trailing now from your lips down your jaw and to the side of your throat as his hands grip your hips. The scruff of his beard brushes the delicate skin of your neck when he nuzzles further into you and heat instantly pools in the lower part of your belly, causing a little moan to slip out. You feel your breath quicken, heart rate speeding up to keep pace with Frankie’s that you can feel through your clothes with how closely he’s pressed against you. Your arms raise to wrap around his neck, hands playing with the soft curls at the back of his head, running your fingers through them (something you’d been dying to do since the first time you met him, if you’re being honest with yourself).
“Should’ve taken me back to yours” you whisper against his ear as he continues to nip, lick and kiss at your throat.
“Santi’s on my goddamn couch” he groans, annoyed.
You remembered, now that he’s said it. Santiago, another military buddy of your cousins that you’d met a few times and one of Frankie’s best friends, had been having problems with his girlfriend and a week ago she had actually kicked him out of their shared apartment and with you taking up residence in Will and Benny’s guest room, that left Frankie’s couch.
“Shit” you mutter. You don’t dare take him inside to your room. Though the house looks dark and the boys are probably asleep, that’s not something you’re going to chance. At least not on a first date. You don’t need their judgment, nor do you need Frankie holding anything back from you due to the unfortunate circumstances.
His mouth is back on yours, unable to stay away from it for long it seems. His tongue pushes inside and strokes alongside yours, causing a little shiver to run down your spine. He licks into your mouth, exploring every cavern and swallowing all your little whimpers and whines. Frankie was an amazing kisser. You can’t help but wonder how talented his tongue may be elsewhere; the thought alone sending a fresh wave of arousal through you and causing another moan to slip out which Frankie responds to with one of his own. His right hand leaves your hip and goes to your thigh next, gently raising your leg off the ground to wrap around him and a gasp escapes you when his hand slips under the hem of your dress and trails upwards towards your hip.
“Fuck, Frankie” you breathe, pulling back just enough so you can start peppering kisses to his strong jawline.
“Tell me to stop, fuck, you need to tell me stop” Frankie pleads. You can feel his obvious desire for you pressed into your stomach as his left hand moves down to grope your ass and pull you even closer against him.
“Mmm, don’t want to” you hum into his throat and he groans in desperation, rocking his hips into you and causing a delicious bit of friction where you need it most. Your whole body is tingling, feeling like you could combust at any moment. Your muscles are tense, hands fighting for purchase on any part of him they can grab onto, eager to keep him from convincing himself to pull away from you.
Just when you feel him begin to pull back you do the only thing that comes to mind and turn in his grasp and reach for the back passenger door of the crew cab, swinging it open and pulling him back towards you by the collar of his shirt.
“Fuck, Sweetheart” he stops dead in his tracks, feet outside on the ground still while your ass hits the back seat so you’re seated sideways on the seat, facing him.
“Look, I might not be up for Gentleman of the Year Award or anything, but I’m not… I can’t have our first time be in the back of my truck. You deserve so much better than that”
Your brain doesn’t miss how he says ‘first time’ like it implies that there will be more times, and god you hope there is. And while you don’t disagree with him that fucking in his car like teenagers isn’t maybe the most romantic way to do this, you still need something and you don’t want this night to be over yet.
“Just… come fool around with me a little bit” you shrug, coy little grin tugging at the corners of your lips and you see on his adorable face the moment his resolve crumbles. He’s hopping up into the truck in a flash, slamming the door shut behind him. He pushes you back onto the bench seat so you’re flat on your back and finally rips his hat off his head and tosses it carelessly somewhere to the floor and you’re in a fit of giggles at the playfulness of it all. The laughter dies on your lips however when he’s kneeled before your spread legs and drags your knees up to his hips and presses himself down on top of you, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss while his lower half grinds into yours.
“Is this OK?” He murmurs into the side of your face as his kisses trail towards your throat.
“Mmm hmm” you nod frantically. “More than OK” you promise.
He hums into your throat and brings his right hand to your breast, his large hand covering the mound and gently massaging the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing just right as your little moans and the way your back arches to push your chest further into his touch encourages him.
“Fuck,” he growls before shoving the front of your dress and cups of your bra down so he can get his mouth on bare skin.
He pulls away from your throat and shuffles down slightly, leaning down to swirl the tip of his tongue around the pert bud and then gently pull it into his mouth. He alternates between sucking it into his mouth and teasing with quick flicks of his tongue while nimble fingers pay the other equal attention and you writhe underneath him, grinding into his leg, desperate for any friction you can create.
“Perfect tits” he mumbles into your skin before his mouth switches sides. Your hands are in his hair, gently tugging and scratching over his scalp and the way he occasionally groans and grunts at your actions you know he likes it. You wish you weren’t shoved inside the back of his pickup right now. Oh the things you would let his mouth do to you if you weren’t…
After long minutes of attention spent on your breasts his mouth is finally back on yours. He moans into you when his tongue wraps around yours again and you decide to play a little dirty yourself and wrap your lips around his tongue and suck it into your mouth, just for a moment and then you release. You feel his hardened cock twitch against your hip when he grinds it into you.
“Tell me what you want, Baby” he asks between ragged breaths as his lips create a hot trail of open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone.
You decide to show him, rather than tell him, and reach for his right hand and bring it underneath your dress to the aching need between your thighs and he practically growls into your throat when he feels the damp spot that’s already formed on your panties.
“Oh my god” he groans, taking his first two fingers and rubbing your lower lips over the soft, soaked lace.
“Oh fuck, Frankie, you feel so good” you whine, not caring how wrecked you sound already.
His mouth covers yours again, his kiss hungry and needy as his fingers bravely dip under the waistline of your panties to finally touch your naked sex and push through the warm slick folds.
“Oh my god, make me come baby, please. Fuck.” You beg, your hands wrapping around his neck again and grabbing on for dear life. It’s been far too long and Frankie is quickly unraveling you into a mewling desperate mess.
“I’ve got you, Hermosa” Frankie promises, his breath hot against your ear now and you don’t doubt that he does. His skilled digits are already driving you crazy and he’s barely begun. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while, or maybe Frankie just really knows his way around a pussy.
He plunges two fingers inside of you and you cry out at the welcomed intrusion, whimpering into his shoulder at how he’s nearly got you undone already.
“God you feel fucking amazing” he groans into your heated flesh.
“Fuck Frankie, don’t stop, please” you whimper.
He doesn’t. His fingers continue their torturous assault, pumping in and out of you and occasionally coming out to rub tight little circles around your small bundle of nerves that causes your arm to shoot up in the air, palm of your hand pushing hard against the ceiling of the truck cab as your impending orgasm lingers threateningly.
“Let me touch you, please” you beg and Frankie growls in response before his free hand goes to his pants and nearly rips them open so he can push them down to his thighs and your hand immediately wraps around his throbbing length.
“Holy shit” you breathe. Your fingers failing to quite reach all the way around his impressive girth. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, precum steadily leaking from the head that you gather in your hand to use to coat down the rest of his length.
“Christ” Frankie grunts, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips once to fuck into your hand. “Shit I’m sorry it’s um, been a while” he confesses shyly and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“For me too” you tell him, easing his nerves. “God Frankie, I’m so close”
With that he pulls his hand away from you for only a moment, bringing it to his mouth to wet his fingers with his tongue and then they’re back on your clit, experimenting between rubbing and circling and pressing and even lightly pinching until he finds out exactly what makes you squirm under him and he doubles his efforts, working you faster and faster with the pads of his fingertips until you’re coming hard and fast with his name on your lips as you rock into his hand to chase the pressure of his touch.
“Oh fuck, that’s it” Frankie groans into the hollow of your throat, his fingers sticky and slick with your release. “God you’re so beautiful” he praises, pressing kisses to every inch of flesh he can reach.
His fingers continue to languidly stroke through your folds, easing you down from your high while his own breathing picks up at your continued actions below; practiced strokes of your hand wrapped around him while your thumb occasionally ghosts over his slit, gathering the evidence of his arousal and smearing it all over the thick and sensitive head.
“Fuck, I’m close” he warns, eyes screwed shut in concentration, his forehead now resting against yours. “Fuck!” He curses again and then quickly sits up on his knees, causing your hand to fall away from him and he takes himself in hand to finish himself off, not wanting to make a mess all over you or your pretty dress. Not having much option he yanks his shirt up instead and coats his own stomach with white hot ropes of his release until he’s left heaving and panting on his knees before you, free hand clutched tight on your knee beside him, fingers digging in deep enough you think they’ll leave bruises.
You’ll wear them like a badge of honor.
“Shit,” he breathes and then huffs out a little laugh. His eyes dart around for a moment and then he reaches into the little pocket on the back of the front passengers seat and pulls out a somewhat squished little pack of wet wipes (one of the conveniences of having a small child you presume, always lots of supplies around that adults might not otherwise think of keeping handy) and grabs a couple sheets and wipes up the mess he made of himself before shoving the wipes back into the pocket. You’re staring up at him, tip of your pointer finger between your teeth and a coy grin playing on your lips.
That was by far the absolute hottest make out session you’d ever had. Where has Frankie Morales been all your life, and what had you done to deserve him now?
“Are you still OK? That was… OK?” He asks and it’s sweet how he doesn’t even know how badly he just rocked your whole world.
“Ten out of ten would recommend” you retort teasingly, lifting your foot to push gently at his hip and he rolls his eyes playfully and lands a little swat to your thigh.
“Smartass. Maybe I oughta trade you in for Benny after all” he quips. “Get a lot less lip I bet”
“Hmm, but probably a lot less tongue too” you tease right back and he groans as you yank him down on top of you by his collar once more.
You’re not quite finished with Frankie Morales just yet.
Taglist: @yorksgirl @chronically-ghosted @rav3n-pascal22 @suzdin @boliv-jenta @senaar-ika @nerdieforpedro @theywhowriteandknowthings @within-the-depths @axshadows @iamasaddie @macabremads @prolix-yuy @vickywallace @survivingandenduring
If you'd like to be added, lmk!
#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales#pedro pascal cinematic universe#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfiction#triple frontier#frankie morales x you#frankie catfish morales#frankie friday#frankie morales fanfiction
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𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫│𝒥𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒯𝑜𝒹𝒹 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
❣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: smut, one-shot, dom!Jason Todd x fem!sub!reader, car sex
❣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mature, harsh language, smut/sex
❣ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1, 182
❣ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This is my first time writing smut in 7 years :') also first tumblr post ever omg// go easy on me i beg <3
"Does it have to be right now Jay?" I whined, practically being dragged by the tall, dark-haired man down the aisles of the Gotham City Mall. Through the crowds of people passing by, my eye managed to catch a store while passing by, "Jason! Wait! You know I wanted to stop in Bath & Body! Their new Fall scents are out Jason!" I pleaded, but to no avail.
"We can come back after, darling. But this? This can't wait." He turned his head over his shoulder enough for me to catch his flustered expression, his pace quickening as we neared the front doors of the mall. I let out a huff in annoyance, following him to the parking lot.
Ten minutes earlier, I had brought Jason to a lingerie store to buy new panties, as a majority of mine had ended up ripped and torn due to a certain someone. I had taken a peak at some of the fancier get-ups, modelling them for Jason, when I managed to snag a glimpse of a certain prominent feature leaving a dent in his pants, and a very red and embarrassed face. And now, I'm getting pushed through the backseat of my car.
"Jeez, Jay, someone's excited," I chuckled, not quite sure if I was more talking about him or his friend between his legs.
My laughter was cut short as he climbed over me, smashing his lips into mine and fiddling with the button of his jeans. "Shut up, god you're such a tease y/n, you know that?" He growled in between sloppy kisses, beginning to pull his pants down over his thighs.
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, knowing damn well my devious little plan had worked. I pulled away, "but Jay, we're in public, we're surrounded by cars, what if-" I was cut off by a rough hand covering my mouth.
"Exactly. All parked cars. Nobody will see, and if they do, then they've earned themselves a free show. Now, be a good girl, and do as I say, understood?" He practically stared into my soul as he made his demands. I nodded, staring back into his lust-filled eyes, "Good. That's my girl." He spoke with a dark tone.
He moved his hand, slipping his two fingers into my mouth, softly plunging them in and out while his other hand worked on pushing my skirt up above my waist. Pushing my panties to the side, he withdrew his fingers from my mouth and brought them down to my entrance, sliding up and down my folds slowly, mixing my saliva and slick all over my puffy pussy. I whined, begging for him to push his fingers in through my wetness. He let out a cocky scoff, shoving his two fingers deeply into my throbbing cunt. I let out a whimper, squeezing my eyes and throwing my head back. His fingers curled and danced inside of me, brushing and rubbing against my sweet spot, his calloused thumb circling my clit as I groaned in ecstasy.
"God, you are fucking perfect, princess," he groaned, quickening his fingers. He grabbed my chin, forcing it back up and went back in for a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his lips, I struggled under him as my orgasm neared, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling his hair. He let out a low groan, pulling away and retracting his fingers from my desperate pussy. I whined at the loss of his touch, before my panties were ripped from me and discarded to the front of the car.
'Well, back to the lingerie store after this,' I internally sighed, but my thoughts were cut off by the head of his dick rubbing against my sopping folds.
"Fuck princess... you're so wet for me, how cute," he huffed, rubbing his length against my bundle of nerves.
I whined, "please Jay.." trying to force my body closer to him.
"Yeah, that's it. Tell me what you want baby, tell me what you want daddy to do to you." He commanded, teasing his tip at my entrance, looking down at me almost as if I were his little pet to boss around.
"I.. I want you in me baby. Please, fuck me," I begged, whimpering at the emptiness inside of me. Jason released a breathy smirk, slowly sliding as much of himself as he could into me, an inch or so to spare. My mouth shot open, a squeak forcing its way out of me as I grabbed the seat for support. Jason began to slowly pump in and out, a low moan escaping his mouth as he gripped my inner thighs.
"Fuck princess, you're so fucking wet for me. Such a dirty little slut, aren't you? Submitting to my cock so easily?" He moaned again as he sped up, "fuck... you like that you pretty little slut?" He started to pound harder.
I nodded my head, "fuck- yes daddy," squeezing my eyes shut and gripping onto his arms.
He lifted my legs over his shoulders and around his neck, forcing my shirt and bra up with his free hand, "fuck baby, that's it. You're such a good girl." he began to pound into me relentlessly, his rough hands finding my tits and thumbing my nipples as he forced in and out of me.
I was a hot, moaning mess. My hands struggling to hold onto him, nails digging through his skin. My eyes rolled back and my mouth hung open lazily as I babbled nonsense mixtures of moans and pleads. No doubt the car was shaking like an earthquake from the outside, many odd noises erupting from it.
Jason reached one hand down and rubbed at my clit while his cock roughly slammed in and out of my swollen cunt, the sound of slapping skin and strings of moans and curses drowning out anything happening in the real world. "Fuck daddy.. gonna... cum!" I managed to squeak out in between hasty pants.
"Good girl. Cum for me princess, I want you to cum all over my cock you pretty little mess." He pumped harder, keeping his pace at a quick thrust. I gripped his arms, hard, letting out loud and intense moans and whines. "That's it, that's my good girl. Cum with me you little slut, just like that." My walls tightened and the long-lasting knot in my stomach exploded with bliss, stars clouding my vision as I let out my sweet release in a fit of curses and sobs. Jason groaned as he pumped his thick warm liquid deep into my cunt, slowing with each pace.
We sat silent for a moment, the sound of panting and steamy windows feeling like the only presence for a moment. Jason pulled out, pulling his pants back up over his hips. I whined at his removal but began to pull my skirt back down.
"I love you, darling," he leaned down and pecked me on the lips.
"I love you too, my sweet," I smiled and sat up
He smiled sheepishly, "alright, now let's go get you your pumpkin spice perfume or whatever."
do you guys get the title cause its like a quickie and a detour since its in a car and im funny i swear :D
I hope this was okay!! Any suggestions for prompts/characters shoot me a suggestion! <3
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Colour Grading, Insincerity, and Loki is right and Gabriel is wrong; a Lokiel Meta
It’s the big gun, it’s the mother lode of me ripping apart Unfinished Business frame by frame to feed my shipping and laying out all my thoughts on the matter clearly as can be so maybe I can sway some people sitting on the fence or at least give some context to those who see my posts and go “wtf” because they’re not viewing this through the lens of my insanity. Want to know why these guys haunt me? Here;
Credit where credit is due, the one thing I’ve always really liked about supernatural is how they use colour grading to tell the story, and it’s not really all that secretive that the Gabriel episodes look aesthetically like some of the best episodes because they colour them very specifically to set the tone for them;
Fun
Nonsensical
Insincere
The three big tells that something trickster is afoot in the episode, (and I apologise for the scuffed quality on some of these, I’m skating the tumblr upload rules).
(Tall Tales 2x15)
(Mystery spot 3x11)
(Changing Channels 5x08)
It tells us that whatever is currently happening typically feels very real to those experiencing it, but is actually not at all. This is make believe. It’s a figment of Gabriel’s imagination that he’s whipped up at his own convenience to tell the story he wishes to impart upon the narrative. While this is obvious in the earlier season when they’re still shooting on film and using the dark overlays to create a spooky ambiance, it still follows through to the end for Gabriel until he puts down the trickster label and picks back up the archangel one and officially joins the Winchesters bringing him into the same dark coloured world that we’re used to viewing. There’s a sadness in it, that Gabriel went from all these bright colours to essentially having his spirit snuffed out by Asmodeus, but it gives us a very clear point to reference when things are real and when they’re make believe.
Obviously Gabriel is a liar, we’ve all known that to be true since his very first appearance- but there’s one incident that I talk about often that bothers me deeply but I’ve never really explained why.
The hotel with the rest of the trickster gang.
Gabriel tells this story three times in a pretty short time span- short enough for Dean to remember and call him out on it in the moment, and every time he tells it the story is altered ever so slightly.
I was alone with porn stars in Monte Carlo
I was alone with Loki and Co in Monte Carlo
I was with porn stars AND Loki n Co in Monte Carlo
He’s always been a very unreliable narrator, but this one was particularly on the nose and when it comes to “continuity errors” Gabriel is always aware of them, he does it on purpose because he wants to get caught. We should ask the question, why did it take you three attempts for us to hear this?
He tells his final iteration of the story in grand bright colours, telling feats of his sexual exploits and how good he is at cards, “and then everyone clapped and cheered for me” and then Loki Judas betrays him because Gabriel is so cool and his brothers are so tough and Loki was scared witless and hoping to avoid bloodshed blah blah blah…
Here’s what the real world looks like in comparison to Gabriel’s little fantasy he’s got running here-
This matches the rest of supernatural, this is a realistic portrayal of events through the eyes of Sam and Dean. This is the bitter reality Gabriel is avoiding with his fantastical little displays; he’s a broken little man who is hurt, injured, and scared.
So, Loki tells another variation of this story, yes? Gabriel was the betrayer here, not Loki. Gabriel ran out recklessly and while passing world saving information to the Winchesters, both saving the world AND the vast majority of Loki’s family, he cannot convince Odin to leave and he dies in battle (and like, he would’ve gone to Valhalla can we just unclench a little?). That is why Loki chooses to damn Gabriel to Hell with a very reckless move to attempt to take down an archangel, sell him to a demon, and then cross his fingers and pray his bestie- the 6th most powerful thing in all of creation ever- doesn’t break free from this pitiful demon eventually and come looking for him. But the environment tells another story, look;
It’s the return of the high vibrancy filter, because this room isn’t real, Loki isn’t real, and neither is the story he’s telling. What are the tricksters, if not liars and showboats?
There’s a huge lack in vulnerability which is what they’re both trying to paint over in these scenes to make themselves cool, to make themselves the victim, to make themselves untouchable. Loki tells a half cocked story about the archangel bastard who took his father, completely detached from any real sort of attachment to Gabriel or Odin- even says himself that he hates Odin! And in a story where we know the ending is Gabriel at the hands of Asmodeus he spends ninety nine percent of the story talking about pornstars. They cannot be vulnerable with these outsiders watching them, they also don’t seem to want to admit to themselves what the crux of the issue is here.
They both want to be the ultimate victim of the situation, they’re painting these half done stories trying to convince an audience (Sam and Dean) that doesn’t care that they are right and the other is wrong—
Until they meet each other;
You can lie to everyone, but you can’t lie to yourself.
We’re back, grounded in reality in this moment when they come face to face with each other, the lighting darkens and becomes gritty once more meaning all facades are down and what’s transpiring here between them is without tricks, and there’s an honor in that when it is a battle between two very clever tricksters who could make this endlessly complicated if they wanted to. When they fight, Gabriel is next to silent (listening, or trauma response? You can decide) and Loki does all his talking for Gabriel and Gabriel alone. They have no one to impress here, they sent the Winchesters on a fools errand to have this moment alone creating a tense intimacy where Loki shreds Gabriel’s facades and calls him out for what he truly is and lays out his deep rooted fears and secrets bare, letting us as the outside party they’re unaware of know that what the two of them were here wasn’t some ordinary friendship or half cocked deal out of desperation, but a real and honest bond between two beings terrified, alone, and looking for safety and someone to confide in. They’re each others secret keepers. Long time confidants. Their most trusted. The reason both of them ran to begin with, in a plan that would involve them wrapping themselves so tightly around the other they’d become one in all ways but physical, and promise to keep each other and that secret until death do them part.
It is bloody, and messy, and Loki has no real way of winning this fight because he cannot hurt Gabriel in any way that matters because he’s an archangel and whether he takes damage or not he will live because of the way he was made, only one of them is killable here and only one of them has any intention of killing the other and it’s not Loki. It’s never been Loki. Ever faithful Loki.
They made a vow, and maybe it was childish and unrealistic but that’s what the two of them are by nature are they not? Fickle, childish, and endlessly devoted. To their families, to their lovers, to their fathers, to each other.
Loki should run at this point, if he has any intention of wanting to live. He’s not stupid, he knows Gabriel better than anyone else in the world and Gabriel acknowledges this by how hurt he is emotionally by the way Loki talks about him and the secrets they’ve passed over the thousands of years they’ve known one another. He’s smart enough to know sentiment won’t save him here, it didn’t save his sons, Sleipnir tried that already and it failed spectacularly. Gabriel is here to kill him, and when you take into consideration the wild power imbalance here in this battle what Loki is doing is essentially laying his head down on the chopping block for Gabriel. He’s a smart creature to survive this long, he could be gone if he really wanted to be just like the many times we watched Gabriel disappear.
He doesn’t.
To me, the crux of their story here is abandonment. You left me. Gabriel made the choice to break his vows, and chase after a family he left behind and even though YES it was for a noble reason that is still nothing when it was a personal stab in the back to Loki who also left his family behind to run away with Gabriel and didn’t go for Odin even though the call was put out to Loki to join the gods for the evening.
Loki didn’t go for his family, but Gabriel did.
Loki didn’t go to save his father in an event they were both invited to, Loki had the opportunity to go and save Odin and he chose his bond to Gabriel over saving him. Gabriel discarded his vow and went anyway, and Odin died.
Gabriel betrays Loki, and it’s not that Odin died, it’s that Loki was willing to sacrifice the opportunity to save him and Gabriel couldn’t say the same for his own family. Odin died for nothing, when Loki could’ve been there the whole time to come get him, and he was robbed of that opportunity while Gabriel went behind his back to do exactly that for his family.
Loki was faithful to his own detriment, and Gabriel was not.
Gabriel is punished fairly in Loki’s eyes because this isn’t just about some deadbeat dad (who chained Loki in a cave to torture him). This is a slight of a much more intimate nature. This was a betrayal of the worst kind.
Gabriel is unfaithful.
Everyone knows that Asmodeus is the demon Prince of lust, but in a little more detail that’s not entirely what makes him up. The cardinal sins are the worst because they are what you inflict upon others, an upon your very soul. Lust is something inherent to the condition of just being alive, but the sin is in the act of hurting others and yourself, so the vast majority of what Asmodeus is imagined ruling over is the adulterer, he is most often the one depicted punishing the unfaithful. Loki wasn’t just looking for a way to hurt Gabriel for the sake of inflicting pain, the trickster is never like that. The trickster doesn’t strike just to maim. Loki is sending a very explicit message to Gabriel by giving him to Asmodeus of all people;
“You were unfaithful.”
— Okay, maybe it’s wrong to say that Loki had every right to do what he did because it was definitely still A LOT to do to someone, but it’s far more understandable when the emotional weight of Gabriel’s crime is made clearer. You probably shouldn’t torture anyone ever for any reason— I’m avidly anti-torture— but dick move Gabriel…
And look, yeah they both sleep around and invite porn stars and hookers to the hotel rooms and what not and I certainly will not hang my ‘Gabriel is a bad person here’ hat on the human morality of monogamy because I think it’s shallow and a disservice to the kind of bond the two of them actually have, but there’s an extra added pain in it that Gabriel also turns up for his ex girlfriend in this situation who is willing to betray him for basically a can of pop but not for Loki who will let Odin die to protect Gabriel.
Gabriel comes back, and he offers no apologies because he isn’t capable of learning his lesson, he is selfish by nature (Also the inherent message of the nature of Hell and torture being one that is wholly unnecessary and cruel, punishment never breeds change internal or societal, you can’t change and reform under immense duress it just further traumatises and keeps you locked in the cycle, the system of Hell shouldn’t exist period). Instead, Gabriel comes to kill Loki’s boys so he can watch them struggle and die first before Gabriel delivers the final blow to the man himself. Would you want to live after all of that either, entirely alone without your family or the one who loved and understood you the most- or so you thought?
And could Gabriel live with it either, knowing the punishment didn’t fit the crime but that Loki had a point (see script) and he wasn’t innocent either and it’s cost him everything because now he gets to look at what it was he saved and it’s a brother who seeks him out in the dark just to torment him about his abuse?
And the story ends circular here, devastating me personally even further by twisting the knife.
Gabriel ran away because his family was so horribly broken, and Loki took off with him to escape his torture. Together they made the plan to become one and Gabriel could use Loki’s face and name to hide among the pagans, and his archangel might to take all the hits being thrown Loki’s way and keep him hidden, because no one’s going to fuck with the god who has the freaky new upgrade and just escaped the slammer. Slowly over time what was Gabriel and what was Loki had melded into two very similar personalities, a little different based on their life experiences, but still so the same they were indistinguishable to everyone but each other.
The core difference between them is their life experiences.
Until Gabriel comes back, tail between his knees and asks Loki to please take him back and let him resume playing the ‘Loki’ character, and Loki says sure, and he binds him and and subjects him to torture at the hands of Gabriel’s very own snake in the cave. Mouth stitched shut. “Be me, then,” He says. “Be me in my entirety.”
And Gabriel comes back after this, bitter and angry and he picks up a weapon and he starts knocking Loki’s family down piece by piece, stalking them through the night no matter how far they run, to make sure Loki’s family is as broken as his own before he delivers the final blow to end his life.
Loki’s family as shattered as Gabriel’s, Gabriel as shattered as Loki himself. Fully one in death.
#spn#supernatural#gabriel spn#Loki spn#supernatural s13#supernatural meta#lokiel#long post#sona’s lore
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Dead to Me.
(Obey Me/Reader)
Summary: ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’, it was one of your favorite quotes. It meant that found family can often mean more to you than the family you were born with. The ones you share blood with. And often times it would get shortened down and paraphrased into meaning the exact opposite of what was initially intended.
But after coming back home from your year long stay in the Devildom, your house and family in shambles, it is no longer your favorite quote. The water of the womb that you shared with your sister meant more to you than any blood spilled between you and those 7 demons in hell.
Warnings: Violence. Death. Fighting and Shouting. Thoughts of suicide.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I totally forgot to post this to Tumblr. Oops. Just know this story would not exist without the talented earthliving on AO3 or @another-lost-mc here on Tumblr. My inspiration came from their headcanons Taken. (Hope you don’t mind me tagging you again girly. I totally thought I posted this here rip.)
Your stay in the Devildom was far from easy. Not just because demons threatened to kill you, eat you, or worse. Yes, there was a worse apparently. But because you had to leave behind everything you knew and loved. How the Prince of Hell even had a file on you to begin with was a mystery to you. You for sure don’t remember signing up for any exchange program. Supernatural or otherwise. But they did. And you were chosen. Just like that. Not because you were special or anything, no Lucifer made sure to drill it into your skull that you were chosen by happenstance. And nothing more.
In the beginning everything was rough. And it didn’t help that your ‘dorm mates’ were complete assholes. Stealing from you. At least what little you had to your name. Be it snacks or trinkets. And others ridiculed you. On your fashion sense or lack there of. And, peculiarly enough, on your lack of knowledge on Devildom gaming and anime. You thought for a second that Leviathan could be a friend to you considering your similar interests. You and your own sister grew up around video games and anime. You thought he’d be easier to befriend. But no. He couldn’t care less about you. You remember almost shouting at him after a particularly harsh verbal lashing. You wanted to remind him that anime (and you’re pretty sure video games too) were a human invention and he should get off his high horse and stop gatekeeping like a total incel. But no. You didn’t. Because even though you were upset, you still feared for your life here.
But slowly, things that seemed unnatural almost became… normal. Like some of the food. Although you couldn’t stomach some of it, others weren’t too far off from some human ingredients you were used to. Although no matter who cooked dinner or whatever take out was bought, it could never satisfy your hunger for a home cooked meal. And by home cooked you mean from your home. You didn’t cook often. You were kinda shit at it. But your sister? She liked cooking. And she would sometimes make you foods based off of tiktoks she saw earlier in the day. They may not have come out perfect, but they were great. And you would tell her time and time again how amazing her food was.
Being surrounded by a group of brothers would often bring up thoughts and memories of your sister. Though you tried not to linger too long, otherwise you might cry. And god forbid any of these demons caught you crying in the middle of the hallway. You wouldn’t be able to deal with that embarrassment and ridicule. No, instead you tried your damnded hardest to get used to living here. You’d be here for a year. A whole ass year. Not long for immortal demons sure but it was a lot for little human you. A year away from your little sister. Away from your loved ones and everything you knew. But thankfully, things got better. A lot better.
The brothers started to warm up to you. Starting with Mammon and Beelzebub. I guess it was inevitable with Mammon considering you had made a pact with him on your second day here. He was assigned as your protector. Or as he put it, your babysitter. And you would often tell him he did a shit job at it at first. But eventually after a few too many get rich quick schemes he started to learn more about you. Your dreams. Your fears. He tried to play it off like he didn’t care but it was hard to not care for somebody you eventually spent every waking moment with. He learned to love you. Just like Beel did after he formed a pact with you as well. After you protected him from Lucifer. You both shared stories about your siblings. Yea, Beel was the only one that knew you had a little sister. And he wiped your tears away as you cried about how much you missed her.
And after that each and every brother started to fall like dominoes. You remember the second to last brother to fall. Belphegor. You remember freeing him from the confines of his makeshift prison in the attic. He had tried to kill you. You can still feel the slight scratching of his claws as they grazed against your throat. No wait. He did kill you. You were pulled away by a strong magnetic force as you look at your own corpse on the ground. Bile rose up your throat. You remember your back colliding into a wall and when you looked up, all you saw was dazzling amber. Lord Diavolo and is ever loyal butler Barbatos were quick to arrive on the scene. They had explained who you were. And that maybe you were picked for a reason. The universe wanted you here evidently. Considering you shared blood with their long since dead sister. That day they all found out that Lilith survived and was turned into a human. To spend the rest of her days on earth happily. And you were her descendant. You remember looking around the room at the brothers. Some tearing up and others just looked at you in either awe or confusion. Except for one pair.
Belphegor had a hard time adjusting to this newfound knowledge. His hatred for humans ran deep and it was hard to override something that spanned eons. Even if his beloved sister had become human, it still didn’t mean they weren’t at fault for what happened. And he tried to hate you. He really did. But you wormed your way into his heart. Slowly but surely. Just like you did with the rest of his family. He learned to love you and all of your weird little human habits. He came to remember why he fell in love with the human realm all the way back in his Celestial years. Every time he looked into your eyes he remembered. And he hopes this time he doesn’t forget. Not just for you. But to honor his sister. He wishes he could burn the color of your eyes into his brain so he could see them every time he blinks. He told you that once. You just called him a weirdo and walked away.
You carved out a spot for you in this dysfunctional family. And you learned to love them. Though you had to set boundaries for each of them, lest they walk all over you. You were still human, you had to stick up for yourself ya know? But just because you learned to love these demons as much as they loved you, they can never fill the hole in your heart. And you started to get antsy. You weren’t allowed to contact anyone back home. To protect the Devildom and all that. But you swore up and down to who ever would listen that you wouldn’t jeopardize them like that. You loved them too much to do that. But you also loved your family back at home. And you wanted to just make sure they were ok. And although Lord Diavolo seemed to understand where you were coming from, all your requests were still denied.
Lucifer could tell you were trying to figure out ways to circumvent your denials. So he made sure to tell the other exchange student, mostly Simeon and Solomon, that they were not to help you contact anyone in the human realm. Simeon understood, considering he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his home, the Celestial Realm, either. Solomon just laughed it off but agreed once he saw Lucifer’s glare. He didn’t believe that you would come talk to him or better yet, ask him for a favor. He knew the brothers filled your head with rumors about him. Conniving, sly, shady and untrustworthy little wizard man. He still laughed every time he remembered the hushed whispers, that were a little too loud to still be considered whispers, that Mammon spewed to you about him. No, you wouldn’t come to him for help.
But color him surprised when you showed up at his bedroom door the very next day asking for help for the very thing that Lucifer warned him about. You pleaded your case very well in hindsight. He could see the hope in your eyes as you looked towards the only other human in Hell for help. Sadly for you, it’s been a long time since Solomon has felt such an intense love for a family member such as you do right now. He just didn’t understand your need to contact anyone. And he told you what everyone else did. It’s better for everyone if you just waited till the year ended to see them again. So you did.
You pushed your love for your sister to the back of your mind and tried to cover it up with the love you had for the brothers. You spoiled them rotten. Lucifer too when he would allow it. But he was often times the one to tell you to stop babying his brothers. Asmodeus would shout that you were a grown woman and if you wanted to baby him then Lucifer should let you! Everyone decided not to acknowledge the fact that he only mentioned you babying him and not any of the others. You learned how to cook with the best of them. Though you were still kinda scared of knifes. But you had to. To help feed Beel and his never ending appetite. You felt so bad for him that you always made sure to make extras for him every time you cooked. It must be Hell to feel like you’re starving all the time. You even bought him a mini fridge to keep in his room. Lucifer admonished you for that too.
No brother was left out of your loving and giving ways. Gaming with Levi was fun, though you did mention how much he hurt you at the beginning of your time here, he soon went on a spiel about how he was a yucky otaku and he didn’t deserve your friendship. You kind of wanted to let him know that this manipulation thing wasn’t cute but it was already 3 in the morning, you were too tired. So you just said you forgiven him and went to bed. Once in your room you noticed Satan on your bed, asleep with a book you had bought him from the human world open on his lap. You set the book aside and curled up next to him. He grumbled about pirates and treasure islands as drool dripped from his lips. No these brothers could never replace your lovely little sister. But they were becoming more of a family to you than some other members of your real family. You soon fell asleep and dreamed about memories long since passed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You were sitting on your bed as your sister sat beside you. You both watched your tv and laughed as your favorite streamer said something stupid again. She turned to you and spoke.
“You know, I love it when I infect you.”
“What? What does that mean?” You questioned.
“I just like to see you enjoy stuff that I like. I like showing you my special interests and you actually listen and enjoy them too. It makes me feel nice. Appreciated isn’t the right word.” She grumbled, trying to find words for her jumbled thoughts. “I don’t know. I just like that you’re here with me.”
You stare into your sisters eyes as your own begin to tear up. You were always the one to cry in your family. A big ol’ crybaby. But you couldn’t help it. Sometimes you just ‘felt things’ way too much.
“I understand what you’re saying. I like that you’re here with me too.” You pull your sister into a hug. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. You wanna talk about something you like for hours on end? Let’s do it, just let me get comfortable first.” She elbowed you. You kiss the top of her head. “If you ever need someone to talk to about your feelings, or if somebody is scaring you or bothering you or whatever, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here. You know you’re the person I care most about in the world right?” She lifts up her head and smiles.
“I know.”
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It’s been a year. A whole year away from your family and you’re getting ready to finally see them again. You can’t wait to see them… but it feels… wrong somehow. Like you’re leaving a part of you behind. The whole house was in dismay this last week. Everyone was quiet. The brothers were contemplating on how they were going to get on with life without you. Some of them believed they can go about their regular business just fine without you. But they knew. In the back of their minds they knew that you stepped into their lives and shook up their world. Altering it forever. They loved you. Fully. And when these 7 demons loved something, it was hard for them to unclasp their claws from that something. But with you, they couldn’t hide you away. Lock you in a room and throwaway the key. Though some contemplated it. No. They had to let you go.
And like you said, it wasn’t just hard on them. You loved them too. Through all the blood, sweat, and tears you survived and came out the other side with a whole new perspective on life and a new family. It was gonna be hard leaving them. So when the day finally came to go, you cried. You couldn’t bring all your Devildom trinkets with you, considering some of their origins. So you gifted them back to the brothers that would cherish them the most.
You gifted Asmo a peculiar hexed hair comb that a RAD student gave you. It was supposed to be cursed so the user would always have bad hair days if they used the brush. Luckily for you, that person flunked their Hexing 101 class, so it literally did the exact opposite. You told Asmo that his hair was beautiful and he’d never need it, but he should have it, just in case. He wept into your shoulder as he hugged you. Levi got a anime figurine that you bought yourself. It was from a random Demonic Anime that you’ve never watched but you bought it because it was cute and pink. He told you exactly where he would be putting it and how he’d dust it everyday. You just giggled as you moved on.
Satan got a spell book from you. It belonged to your spell casting teacher that took a particular liking to you. Satan didn’t have the heart to tell you that he already had that edition. But he still cherished it regardless. Beel and Belphie got scarves that you crocheted yourself. Apparently the yarn was magical and imbued with a special silk webbing that would take the makers feelings and use them to keep itself warm. So if you loved the person you gifted it too, it would exude heat. And boy, were they toasty every time they wore it. Luckily it was always decently cold in the Devildom.
Then came the next two, Mammon and Lucifer. You stopped in front of them both as you knew you were keeping everyone too long. You took out a necklace and a ring. Both bought for you from your own mother. You felt a little bad giving these gifts away. They did mean a lot to you. But so did the 2 demons standing in front of you. You handed the necklace with a simple sunflower charm to Mammon as you handed the accompanying sunflower engraved ring to Lucifer. You told them they didn’t have to wear them or anything. Especially since the ring won’t fit Lucifer’s fingers anyways. But still, you wanted to leave a little part of you with them. A small sliver of your soul. Solomon told you once that if a human wore something or had something on their person for long enough, that object could retain pieces of that person spirit. Their energy. And you wore those bits of jewelry your whole life. It felt right to give these two men something from the heart. Since they truly stole yours.
You walked back over to Diavolo and Barbatos as you stood side by side with Solomon. They asked if you were finally ready to go back home. You nodded as you turned towards the portal, you wiped away your tears and pushed your way through the fog. Leaving this place you called Home.
Mammon looked down into his hand. The simple silver chain and sunflower charm glinting in the moonlight. He could feel a tear slip down his cheek as he saw your aura encapsulate the pendant. A beautiful shimmering glow that only creatures such as him could see. He quickly closed his hand into a fist, already feeling his sin clawing at his heart. Wanting no one to see the beautiful piece of yourself that you left for him and only him. Well, him and Lucifer. Lucifer ushered his brothers back the House of Lamentation. As they all walked into the parlor, a silent yearning filled them all. Belphegor was the one to brake it.
“I miss them.” All the brothers could do was nod, as they all felt the same.
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No. No no no no. NO. This was not supposed to happen! What the fuck happened!? No no, you promised her. Now look what happened. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! WHY WEREN’T YOU THERE!?
You sobbed and begged and pleaded. You choked on your own vomit as you heaved into the trash can. The people around the police station looked towards you in pity as you screamed and wailed that this was all just a bad dream. They had to interview you, as were a potential suspect but they could tell you had no idea what happened. The pain in your voice, in your eyes, was real. Now the interrogation was more so a formality , for the paperwork than to get any real answers.
You couldn’t go home. There was no home to go to. It was infested with men and women in blue uniforms and wrapped up in yellow tape. Your house was a crime scene. Your sister was gone. You promised her. No. You lied to her.
You look towards your phone and see the millions of messages and calls that never went through to you since you been stuck in hell. The last one replayed in your head on loop. Your little sisters voice pleading for you to come home, she’s scared. There’s someone in the house. She called 911 but their not here yet. Why’d you leave me? What did I do? Oh god. Their in my room. I can see him. No no NO! HE’S… than nothing but blood curdling screaming and sobbing came after that. You hear a wet squelch before someone picked up the phone to end the call.
You heaved into the bucket as you cried. Your baby sister. Your everything. Is gone. She’s gone. And it’s your fault.
This is all your fault.
It’s ALL YOUR FAULT!
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It’s been months since any of the brothers have seen you and they’ve, for the most part, have gotten things back to normal. All of them miss you dreadfully but there’s nothing they can do. Despite how hard some of them try.
Belphie has tried multiple times, along with Satan, to open up a portal to the Human realm to visit you themselves. Lucifer thwarted each and every one of their attempts. Mammon tried bribing Witches and Warlocks alike to take him up top so he can see you all by himself. Of course, none of them helped him. And then there were the others that held onto their sadness but kept chugging on anyways. Like Asmo or Beel.
It was just a normal day in the House of Lamentation when Lucifer gets an urgent call from Lord Diavolo. Ordering him and his brothers to come down to the castle now. Lucifer rounds up his brothers and leave’s immediately.
“What’s the big rush? Why does he need us there right now?” Mammon shoves his hands into his pocket. Toying with his little piece of you.
“I don’t know but he sounded urgent. If there’s something wrong in the Devildom and Lord Diavolo needs our help with it, then we shall abide.” Lucifer storms off in front of everybody as he knocks upon the ginormous doors of the castle. Barbatos opens them and ushers everyone inside.
“Barbs~, what’s the problem? I don’t feel like getting my clothes dirty today.” Asmo groans as he glided next to Barbatos. He sighs. “It’s quite… difficult to explain. They’re back.” Levi rolls his eyes as he toys with his D.D.D.
“Who?”
“(Y/n).”
And with that, all the demons went sprinting towards the main dining area. As they got closer they heard shouting and screaming. They all feel their pact with you flare up. The burst through the doors as they see you being pinned down to the floor by some royal guards. All of them shifted into their demonic forms but only two of them went in for the kill. Mammon and Belphegor were held back as Lucifer and Beel struggled to keep them in place.
“What in the Hell happened here!?” Lucifer shouted. Satan looks around the room and sees destruction of plates and chairs. He looks towards Diavolo and notices a very slight reddening on his cheek. Had you… Had you hit him? How did you achieve that? He looked towards you and all he could see was a mess. Clothes dirty. Hair oily. Face splotchy and red. Your eyes were even redder. Puffy. Like you haven’t slept since leaving them all those months ago. But you didn’t look tired. You didn’t look sad despite the constant tears running down your face. He didn’t need to be the Avatar of Wrath to be able to tell that you were furious.
Lucifer has also came to the same conclusion as he eventually let go of Mammon and made his way to you. He kneels down by you as he ushers the guards away. The reluctantly let go and you slowly push yourself up. He tries to help you but you smack his hand as hard as you could. You sit on the floor as you try and catch your breath.
“(Y/n)… what has gotten into you? What has happened that would cause you to behave this way?” You wipe your face and look at your hand. Red blood smeared across the surface. Your nose was smashed pretty harshly on the ground when the guard tackled you. Lucifer just keeps calling your name. Spewing questions left and right. You don’t answer any of them. You don’t need to. No. No. They answer to you. You pull yourself with the broken chair beside you as you look towards Diavolo once again. There’s a sadness in his eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You wobble your way closer to him but the guards stop you. You can hear A few of the brothers growl in the background but you pay them no mind.
“It’s your fault.” You whisper. Barely holding back a sob. “It’s… it’s all your fault!” You cry. Diavolo tries to ask you about this perceived slight that you have against him. But you cut him off. “Out of all the shit that I’ve been through…” spit flies past your teeth as you stutter out your words in barely veiled anger. “All the shit I’ve done for YOU!” You point towards him. “For THEM!” You wave your arms towards the 7 demonic entities behind you. “And all I ask for was a call. Not even! A fucking text! Anything. FUCKING ANYTHING!” You grab a broken shard of something off the table as you chucked it at the Prince with all your might. You barely grazed his arm. “And look what fucking happened!”
You fall to your knees as you sob and heave. “She’s gone. I promised her and because of you I couldn’t be there. SHE needed me and YOU took me away!” You bang your hand against your chest hard enough to give yourself a bruise as you moaned in despair. The air in the room seemed to vanish. The brothers were told about your sister from Beel. You had never mentioned her to them. But Beel took it upon himself to mention her. They grew excited at the prospect of meeting another one of Lillith’s descendants. You were the oldest? Sooo, were you more like Lucifer or more like Mammon? The thought of meeting this person that you clearly loved, at least from what Beelzebub had told them, instantly left their minds as they all connected the dots. Your little sister was dead. She had died while you were down here. Having fun with your new family.
Asmo gasped silently into his hand as everyone else took their turns as shock and horror ran through them. Beel and Belphie however, stood stock still. The complet and utter pain you were feeling. They new it all too well. All the brothers did. But the twins had dealt with a different type of pain. Considering they were once triplets. Belphie made the first move to try and comfort you. But you just shoved him away as you clumsy maid your way to Barbatos. You cling to him as if he was the only thing keeping you alive. Sane.
“Please. You can bring her back. You did it with me you can do it it again. Please bring her back. Please just please do it. Please I’m begging you please…” you sob into his chest. Tears soaking into his butler uniform. He pays your back and says. “I’m sorry (Y/n). But that’s just now how it works.” You fling yourself off of him.
“YES. YES IT DOES! It has too. You have to bring her back. You did it with me. Why not her!?” You slowly raise your hands, palm up. “Or… or… you can take me instead? Yeah. You can do that right? My soul for hers.” You ask quietly but his constant shaking of his head just angers you. You claw at your head, pulling at your hair.
“You’re a fucking demon! Souls are your thing! Not only that but you’re the only demon in all of Hell to have fucking time powers. LIKE HELL IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY! Are you really that fucking stupid!? That fucking WEAK?” You feel arms pull you back towards a warm chest. Belphegor holds you close as he tries to overpower you with his Sin. You can feel yourself get sleepy. You start to fall back towards the ground but Belphie holds you up. He whispered in your ear.
“I know (Y/n). I understand your sadness. Your anger. Your violence. But let’s sleep for now.” You try and struggle out of his arms but your arms feel like lead. You feel numb to the world. So instead you use up your last bits of energy to spew out one more sentence.
“I don’t give a shit. You’re dead to me.” Because even though you knew they could understand you better than most, the guilt that warped your brain lingered heavily. The day your sister died was the same day you told the brothers during dinner that you considered all of them your family. Levi jokingly asked which of your family was better? And you jokingly replied… them. So in the back of your mind, to keep you from killing yourself in despair you pushed every single negative emotion you felt onto those around you.
“You’re fucking dead to me.”
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I've come to the conclusion that Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Set it Off) is actually really fucking musically interesting, regardless of the sheer cringe that overcomes people when they hear the opening chords and enter a state of horrified flashback.
(Really I think the 'cringe' associated with nightcore and those kinds of animatics are just more teenage-girl-hating nonsense, because as far as phases go, it's a pretty good one; it's almost, for some people, the first kind of musical subculture they know because it's the first time they're able to deviate from the set songs of their childhood and family to listen to their own music. Looking back to your nightcore phase with nothing but disgust and cringe only hurts you in the long run because if you're constantly scared you'll be cringe one day, you'll never be able to express yourself in a way that feels emotionally authentic and you'll never grow as much as a result.
This is Tumblr, though, so I'm preaching to the converted here, and it's a conversation for another post.)
But holy shit, that song is SO MUCH BETTER, musically, than it has any right to be. The use of two emotionally/musically contrasting bridges coming in quick succession before that final chorus? Inspired. You start listening to the first bridge, and you're like 'yeah, ok, we're at that part of the song now', and it's that Slightly Annoying Contrasting Section that lampshades the limited emotional range of the rest of the song, and we're going to be smooth and flowing here because it's about the potential for forgivene- hOly hEll WHAT THE FRICK IS THAT. Because suddenly, out of nowhere, there's a SECOND BRIDGE. And it's VERY DIFFERENT.
And your sense of tonal stability is ripped away by the lack of continuous chords as you grapple with not having constant support from the backing, and the vocalist is yelling about wanting to kill someone, and the whiplash is real, because it's a complete 180 from earlier and it came out of nowhere. You expected it to transition smoothly back into the chorus like every other song that does the same thing. By the time the 'burn in hell' bit comes, you're grasping for anything with a tonal/emotional centre to tell you what to expect.
And then the chorus hits again, but better.
You've found that tonal/emotional centre that you were looking for, but it feels so different than before. The texture of the chords is different, and you're sort of wrapped up in them, and you suddenly fully realise how emotionally cathartic the chords themselves are, with the constant building tension and release. The lyrics now have new meaning; the 'so tell me' is contextualised, now, by all the anger and hurt of the vocalist, and it means so much more. It almost seems more like they're begging for an answer, even if it still retains traces of that mocking, taunting tone from the other choruses. It really feels like that point in an argument when someone has just thrown their (metaphorical) cards down on the table and is looking the other person in the eye and daring them to tell them how they should feel, how they should react. It's so perfect for what the song is, and it's well supported by the musicality of the piece and the emphasis of the lyrics ('so tell me how you're sleeping easy, how you're only thinking of yourself').
But all of that was enabled by the composer's use of structure; the complete emotional recontextualisation of that chorus takes the piece to a completely new emotional plane, which is simultaneously more vulnerable and more cutting.
Like, damn. That's some good shit right there.
#set it off#wolf in sheep's clothing#nightcore#musical analysis#it's not really that deep but it's there#a slight foray into the dangers of cringe culture but eh it's Tumblr what do you expect
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so i was going to just make this a nice little garrus gifset as i tend to do because hnnngh space husband but fuck it i'm so tired of the shit tumblr is pulling as well as other social media sites burning themselves to the ground and profiting off of it by scamming their own userbase to the point where i'm likely shutting down all my accounts because honestly all i want out of them is validation and not to feel alone but that's only ever gotten me so far when it's online 99% of the time, i need to make myself feel these things
and as far as irl shit goes i'm almost broke and i can't land a job and that's the only thing stopping me from outright deleting my tumblr so i can share my commission info from time to time which seems kinda redundant because that's all i'm going to be posting now and checking tumblr for rather than post more art or communicate lol
in the meantime my art tag is #evtdraws but tumblrs barely functioning search function will likely show you my *earlier* art first anyway rip
anyway if anyone wants my discord (which is the one thing i'm keeping) because i do want to stay in touch with people, it's emma_vakarian (SHOCKING) just tell me who you are on tumblr, or i'm Garrus of Rivia on xbox if anyone's interested in playing ME3/anthem/halo/deep rock galactic/powerwash simulator. whether or not i do officially shutdown my tumblr; thanks to everyone that stuck around and chose me to have me on their dash and as a friend :)
k thanks bye
#i feel like life is out to get me because my favourite comedian of 10+ years who got me through shit is FINALLY coming to australia#as well as a band i'm currently obsessed with and i'll be lucky to be able to go to either. and i know it's a first world problem#but it just feels like a kick in the face with all the other bullshit i deal with and trying to convince myself its worth dealing with#anyway good luck out there y'all#personal
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chainsaw man chapter 122 thoughts
when i first read through the chapter i noted it was odd that fami ordered so much food until i scrolled through tumblr and saw that @possiblylando (sorry for the random ping/notification if this causes one, im still getting used to tumblr and i didnt want to take credit for an observation i didnt make) made the big brain observation that it's probably to do with fami being famine. akdjjwkxnd good catch. that makes me wonder if fami eats irregularly due to her nature or if she's always hungry?
we saw earlier that yoru's goal is to make chainsaw man return nuclear weapons, presumably because that will lead to more fear of impending warfare, which will, in turn, give her power boost. we don't know her motivations for this right now. rivalry with the 3 other horseman devils maybe? or something more?
this probably goes without saying but yoshida's comment about the 7/30 convicts dying this week and what we've seen so far makes me think that the convicts are just going to be fodder in some grander scheme, possibly on a city-wide scale, along with a whole lot of others.
it wasnt exactly made clear but since the devil's body was made using the body parts of the people living in the apartment building, were they killed solely for that or can they be reanimated in some way and used in battle like the dolls from part 1?
im kind of forming a loose theory here, and it'll probably be way off, but i wonder if the ability of this primal fear devil is scent based? at the time nayuta says she smells "the nastiest devil scent... i've ever smelled!" (chapter 121) denji is forlorn and hopeless like we see with the couple who jump off the balcony in 122.
i also want to point out the menacing shot of denji's building. maybe fujimoto is trying to say something here?
but like with the failed spinal cord sword, denji shrugs it off.
since nayuta isnt affected and denji also isnt really affected, maybe it has to do with pochita's influence on his physiology?
in that vein, we see asa on the street probably not too far away also extremely down on herself. so much so that yoru even feels compelled to say something.
keep in mind, this isn't the first time asa beats herself up, but it IS the first time yoru says something about it.
and what's happening right at the same time?
rip.
now, onto the next topic.
nostradamus's prophecy of the 1999 apocalypse. im not going to post the poem since it's already floating around but I'll share some thoughts i had on it.
like others are theorizing, i think its fujimoto's way of laying out exactly what will happen from here on out. blatant foreshadowing.
war wants to find and kill chainsaw man to take back the ultimate weapon; nuclear weapons. the primal fears, plural, will set the stage for the arrival of the final boss, nostradamus's king of terror, aka death, who is also one of the 4 horsemen.
that said, im gonna jump around to the couple's conversation:
the man started off excited about what's essentially a mundane achievement. his wife? girlfriend? is happy for him until he asks about a car. right here is where we see the change from calm to...not sad but apathetic and acceptingly hopeless. at the slightest negative statement that he would not be allowed to get a car, and it's implied that they've had this conversation before and that it isn't the first time he asked, his negativity overwhelms him, transfers to her through whatever is causing this mental shift, and they go to the balcony to jump.
there he eyes a car that looks...
well.
it looks like kobeni's car.
that's either a red herring because fujimoto is a troll or maybe that's where the actual primal fear devil is? it could also be a nod towards what denji was capable of doing; getting up and keeping going towards the same goal. for denji, love. for this guy, a nice car.
as for which primal fear this devil represents, my guess is despair. in war you must have ambition, especially as a leader, and resolve as a soldier. without resolve, you die. what power does war and emotion have when the opponent is empty and untouchable?
but then i remembered what the four horsemen of the APOCALYPSE aka the four horsemen of death were, and i doubt im going to be right about that. we know this primal fear devil isnt control, because that's nayuta, or famine, or yoru, and most likely, as in most probably definitely, not death.
so i did a light google search and saw that control/conquest is sometimes alternatively called pestilence/plague. maybe fujimoto is making 5 horsemen of the apocalypse? if it actually is pestilence, it could explain the smell. disease has a noticeable stench.
i think that more or less sums up my thoughts on chapter 122.
im interested in hearing your thoughts and starting a dialogue in the comments!
thanks for reading.
#chainsaw man#chainsaw man manga#chainsaw man part 2#csm#csm manga#chainsaw man theory#chainsaw man analysis#anime and manga#manga#famine csm#yoru chainsawman#csm denji#asa mitaka#denji chainsaw man#nayuta
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seagulls fucking SUCK man
Hello, readers who I will assume also hold a grudge against seagulls based on the fact you’re reading this knowing what the title says! Let me regale you with an needlessly dramatic tale of betrayal earlier today (by seagulls) (the betrayal not the tale) (the tale is by me) (seagulls can’t write) (I think?)
Now, before I begin, here are some Indubitable Truths that will be relevant:
I am an animal lover first and a person second.
Yesterday, I got my braces tightened. As such, my front teeth are a bit sore still. It would be hard for me to eat, say, a particularly chewy tortilla.
I have a tendency to ignore common knowledge in favor of being nice to birds.
Here is where our story begins. I am at a nice little street near the beach, with other people, on a “history” camp trip. “History” is in quotes because it’s 60% going to museums (most interactive) and 40% looking at the attractions around the museums.
So I am at this cute little street with a couple of places you can get food. So I got food. Specifically a (large) burrito, a bag of tortilla chips, apple juice, and some guacamole.
As aforementioned: it is hard for me to eat the burrito because of the chewy nature of the tortilla. And there are a Lot of seagulls near the table where I’m eating.
Are you picking up what I’m putting down?
If not, I will spell it out: I rip off pieces of tortilla to give to the seagulls. Win-win, they get food and I don’t have to try to eat a tortilla when my canines are so sore.
(pictured: 2 messages sent to @dreamsy990 before the Horrors ensue)
I would like to add I DO realize that feeding wild animals is a Bad Idea™️. Like, I read the Diary of a Wimpy Kid book where Greg gives a seagull a Cheeto and they just immediately attack him. And I listen to park rangers when they talk. (Mostly the first one.)
But alas, I am no more than a poor imitation of Icarus, flying too close to the sun that is feeding wild birds tortilla pieces. Also I just really like birds and would do anything for them if they could talk I would be so fucked
I grab the bag that the food was in—there’s still food left, I just don’t want to be a litterbug and let the bag blow away. I get up from the table.
IMMEDIATELY, they descend upon my food like the ravenous bastards they are. I cry “DUDE! WHAT!” They knock over my apple juice. One flys away with the rest of the tortilla. They leave the chips and guacamole alone (for now).
I am Extremely Pissed, but still a Responsible Citizen, so I grab the chips and the rest of the trash (which has increased since it DOESN’T HAVE ANY FUCKING FOOD LEFT IN IT) and go to the trash can. When I return, they’re eating the guacamole. I yell “YOU CAN’T EVEN RECYCLE!” (Because they’re birds, they wouldn’t know how to properly dispose of waste. Assholes.)
Tragic. However, I am a person who values rolling with the punches (there’s a good story I have about that, but it’s less interesting and harder to remember/make funny) life gives you, so I suck it up and go buy an ice cream cone to ease my sorrows. (I AM frowning the whole time, though.)
I then go eat the ice cream cone while sitting against the wall of the arcade (because I needed to charge my phone) and when I finish the ice cream I attempt to eat the chips I salvaged. Bit hard, considering the whole “sore teeth” thing. Then, I get in the bus to go home, and I write a needlessly dramatic tumblr post about the whole experience.
#dove chirps#my stuff#SIGH.#seagulls#seagulls are bastards#I turned on autocapitalize for this#birds#:(#animals
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what i think redacted characters look like (sam edition!)
notes: y hello there!! sry i disappeared for a bit until earlier today, the last half of this week has been a bit busy w school. i’m gonna start working on the tank version of the ‘dynasty’ miniseries (i need to come up w a better name) later tn. i’ve also started inktober, so i’ll start posting that too!! — i wanted to make this as a drawing and writing reference if i ever needed it, plus i keep thinking about it and i needed to get it out of my head, so here u go.
{{ happy spoopy season yall, and please enjoy!! }}
~ height ~ i thought sam was pretty average height at first (like 5’11, maybe 6’0) until i saw this tumblr post referencing the “ur bond w a vampire” video, and the op said smth along the lines of, “imagine sam being so tall he has to bend down to walk into darlin’s apartment” and i’ve been a super mega tall sam believer ever since. sam is like david-height, maybe even taller to make it extra funny that he’s intimidated by him. (also i tried looking for the post mentioned, but i couldn’t find it, i’m sry!)
~ hair style ~ i think his hair is mid-length— like to his jaw. i don’t think it’s curly, but i think it’s curled at the ends, if that makes sense? like it’s fluffy, so it curls around his jaw and on the nape of neck. he has it parted in the middle for fancy occasions, but usually it’s just pushed back to keep it out of his face (NOT WITH GEL THO. that is a v important point.) i’m going to admit smth diabolical; i think sam has curtain bangs, but i don’t think it’s intentional. his hair just kind of grew like that, so he just gets it cut like that now. i think it’s also constantly falling to his face, and whenever he tries to push it back, a piece just pops back onto his forehead sneakily. perhaps he wears headbands sometimes. maybe darlin even buys them for him. we’ll nvr know.
~ hair color ~ sam’s hair has to be light brown, no i’m not taking opinions. i think it’s that kind of light brown that it’s ALMOST blonde, but only when it’s in the sun. his hair looks like gold thread under the sunlight me thinks.
~ eye color ~ pre-vampirism, i think sam’s eyes were a dark green/hazel-ish color. his eyes kind of looked like a forest, if that makes sense. now, his eyes r silver, but they hv v little crimson flecks in them. i don’t know if the amount of them has anything to do w how long a vamp’s been turned/how old they r, but i just imagine sam’s don’t hv much. maybe i just think his eyes look more human than most vamps’.
~ face ~ sam’s face is like a square/heart mix, w some light stubble along his jaw. i think his eyes r slightly downturned, and he has thicker brows. (i might draw him eventually, but i am terrified i will not do him justice.)
~ body type ~ i think he’s muscular. not like freaky raw chicken-esque muscles gym bro kind of muscular, but the kind of muscular that are comforting and can protect u. his arms r pretty muscular, and i think he has abs. he’s less muscular than david, tho.
~ clothing ~ white tank top (like a wife beater), unbuttoned flannel, jeans. boom. that’s literally all he wears. he doesn’t wear the exact same clothes every day ofc— but he’s got different colored flannels for every occasion imaginable, as well as an endless supply of jeans and white tank tops. i believe he’s got some pretty nice clothes that previously collected dust in his closet, but now tank steals them. also, i’m gonna say smth all might not agree with.. i don’t think sam wears cowboy boots!!! i’m sry i’m sry!!! hold the tomatoes tho and let me explain. i think he believes they’re impractical. so instead, sam wears sneakers. black converse to be specific; they’re so beat up he can just slip them on without even trying at this point. the little aglets r ripped off of the laces, too.
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted sam#redacted asmr sam#redacted tank#redacted darlin#redacted headcanons#redactedverse#i’ve been thinking abt this for an embarrassing amount of time#if yall completely disagree i will cry myself to sleep and throw tomatoes at u in return#just kidding#maybe…#honeyglass’s headcanons
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THE MAN MADE HIMSELF A SHIRT. I REPEAT THE MAN MADE HIMSELF A SHIRT! That was why he took my markers earlier today! And i had the audacity to think he’d be normal and that the mind map paper was the worst of it all. He took a white shirt and wrote with a sharpie ’Team Brian’ on it. He said he even watched youtube videos to learn how to like stitch it in but gave up after he hurt himself with a needle. He made 3 extra shirts, 2 for our parents that he express sent to them and one for me. He wrote a note with the package to our parents that said ‘if you love me, you’ll wear it’ So I cannot wait to see how that goes (fr imagine getting that sent to you, just a shirt and a note.) And the best(?) part of it all is he wore the shirt to the damn doctor check up! I almost forced him out of it but then at the last second thought to myself ‘for the content..gotta let him be dumb for the people on tumblr, they would want me to do it.’ (At this point I’m just going with the drugged up idiot flow) The doctor took one look at him when he walked into the office and sighed. I forgot that they had to deal with him for two days during his new found love, so i have no clue what all he put them through. And he tried to ignore it at first but my brother kept pulling at his shirt and smiling at him so the doctor went ‘(brothers name) i see youre in the arts and crafts part of your obsession..’ and all my brother said was ‘bro…i mean Doctor Bro, you have no clue. I am stressed! I am tired! I stayed up all night thinking. Nobody cares about my feelings. Nobody cares about what I have to say and think, i have no one in my corner. And now the worst of all, he ran off with a kazoo player! Do you know how dumb that is?!’ The second my brother looked away, the doctor looked at me and mouthed ‘kazoo?’ And I mimicked a violin and the guy had to cover up a laugh. I feel like the doctor is cursing at HIPAA cause if i was him, id want everyone to know about this dumbass at my work. I will report back when my parents get the package (should be like two days or so). He asked at the post office if they will receive it in less than a week ‘because it is important, very, very important! Like life or death situation’ and then he panicked that they’d think he is sending something illegal so he went ‘it’s shirts! Like this one’ *shows his shirt* and then idk what went through his head because he went ‘it’s from a show I’m watching. I swear im not just being weird about Brians’
Dear sweet anon, I was settling in with an afternoon coffee on the couch to do some work on my tablet and your message popped up before I turned on my work DND (otherwise every notification I get is like 👀 surely someone reblogging this this is more important that the thing I am literally paid to do, you know how it is). And I’m so glad that I saw this before I “hunkered down” for some paperwork. Blech.
Nobody cares about my feelings. Nobody cares about what I have to say and think, i have no one in my corner. OH BROTHER ANON you have tens of people in your corner. We DO care about your feelings and one day you will know.
The arts and crafts part of his obsession! I die. He’s going to get an etsy or redbubble store before this is over and start selling fanart phone cases (not a jab, I have a fanart phone case!).
So about HIPAA. HIPAA only applies to healthcare information and identifying information. So for therapists, that’s basically everything (although I will frequently say a client recommended a TV show to me because that is not healthcare information [uh your brother’s qaf obsession would be though] and it’s not identifying). And HIPAA doesn’t apply to consulting with other medical professionals without identifying information (so I could say to a fellow therapist “I have a client who ripped his stitches after surgery due to excitement about a TV show, my own bar for how normal this is is a bit fucked, should I be concerned?”) So I can absolutely guarantee that your brother’s doctor is at the very least telling his fellow doctors about your brother. I promises you they are in the break room laughing about this.
IAN PLAYS A KAZOO. Sorry if this shows up in a fic of mine in the future… this is very Brian coded. No offense to kazoo players. I’m sure they are a lovely bunch who do not deserve to be grouped in with Ethan.
#ask winderlylandchime#dear sweet anon#queer as folk#a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023
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Manon Blackbeak hating men= bigotry.
Manon Blackbeak hates men. That is a phrase that I have heard multiple times throughout this community. I saw a post earlier today (which is posted at the bottom) that stated Manon Blackbeak hates men implying greatly that the author of the post believes that she is 'that bitch'.
Now the author of this post made some points that I agree with. For example, I agree that a lot of the characters in the Throne of Glass universe are queer-coded and there must be a much MUCH greater representation of queer characters in Throne of Glass. However, there was one point that I didn't agree with. I do not believe that a character 'hating men' should be glorified as 'that bitch', and that a male character (dorian havilliard) 'drags' the female character down just because someone believes that the male character is not needed.
When I see posts that state Manon 'hates men', my mind instantly goes to 'this character displays misandry and sexism'. The same way I believe that when another character 'hates women', my mind goes to 'misogyny and sexism'. When a character displays other forms of bigotry, I say 'oh that's racist, sexist, homophobic, queerphobic, transphobic, ableist, etc...'. I do not go on to glorify that character for being bigoted.
One of Manon Blackbeak's (and the witches) greatest downfalls (I don't know the word) is their bigotry towards men and humans. They hunt down men, rip them apart and laugh. They are racists and misandrists. And Manon Blackbeak literally reflects on that fact to her Thirteen stating 'We need to be better than our foremothers'.
I do not understand why this throne of glass community sometimes glamorizes them for being 'badass' (in this way) for being literal racists, bigots (look at the way Manon first treated Elide) and misandrists. They should be held accountable.
The reason why I am making this post is because I was blocked by this Tumblr (@seperatist_apologist) and my comments were deleted for calling them out (as if to try and silence me for stating the truth), but I also wanted to start a discussion about Manon Blackbeak 'hating men' and why it shouldn't be romanticised AT ALL!
The beauty about gender equality is that it goes ALL WAYS.
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Global terms on fanworks, modding, commercial products, and monetized videos for my games (UPDATED 2023)
The terms below are valid for every game I (Meiri) have worked on in the past, and will develop in the future. These terms are subject to change.
(LEIA EM PORTUGUÊS AQUI)
Do not reupload my games to other sites. The only sites you can download my projects from are itch.io, the Google Play Store, and tumblr (hosted on Google Drive). If you're making a translation, I'd rather you let me host it myself.
****ON FANWORKS, COMMERCIAL PRODUCTS, MODDING, STREAMS AND VIDEOS:
Overall, please consider that I'm a solo hobbyist spending hundreds of hours working on free videogames for everyone. I write, code, draw, and do promotions for my games by myself. I want to keep sharing cool games with everyone.
Accepting individual commissions involving my characters is okay. However, making merchandise or attempting to involve any monetary gain with the game, its characters, its graphics, or its music, is not allowed. E.g: you can't sell keychains or prints on conventions, but if someone commissions you for a portrait of Mafuyu for personal use, that's fine.
If you're livestreaming or recording the games, please link it properly and do it in good faith, considering the free work many have allowed me to use in them. And let me know - I'd love to watch it!
ADDENDUM: The majority of let's players who have played my games are extremely small hobbyist creators, and I have no problem with them monetizing their videos featuring my games. Unless you're getting millions upon millions of views out of them, monetizing your playthroughs and streams is completely fine!
Creating NON-MONETIZED content involving the game is accepted. Fanart and fanvideos are allowed, as long as they are not monetized.
Ripping the games' graphical or musical assets is not permitted, e.g programs to unincrypt encrypted CGs.
Using the games, its characters, or its assets to promote hate speech, be it against sexuality, gender identity, race, religion or otherwise, is not allowed.
ON MODDING (UPDATED 2023):
On mods, I allow some modding, but there has to be a clear and concise warning that the mod is non-canonical and not made by Meiri. Moreover, I will not fix bugs caused by the use of mods. Please clearly state this on the mod's download page.
It is the modder's responsiblity to aid the players with possible technical issues caused by the use of their mods. Mods should only be distributed as downloadable files.
Those are the things you CAN do in your mods:
Add new routes, choices, endings, fan characters (expansions are ok)
Add new music and artwork made by you that does not aim to replace the original content.
Create new scenarios that include the game's cast (AUs, fan sequels, 'what ifs')
Edit in memes, edits, audio bits, or other crack-adjacent content, such as changing Mafuyu's theme song to Caramelldansen or turning everyone into skeletons.
All of the above must not be presented as canon content and must be labeled as fanmade.
The things you CANNOT do in mods:
Rewrite the original story or replace the graphics and music with the intent to 'fix' or 'improve' it. I am not comfortable with these kind of mods. This include mods that replaces portraits. This clause is here not to impede on your creativity, but to keep myself comfortable.
Mod in content that breaks the terms written at the earlier in this post (no hateful content, bigotry, racism, etc). This includes making the characters say slurs or wear offensive clothing/imagery.
Add any kind of pornography, nudity, or explicit sexual content. Consider that my games have underage characters.
Erase the game's characters' sexuality, gender expression/identity, or race. No straighwashing or whitewashing is allowed. 99% of my characters are queer.
ON OTHER TOPICS:
Regarding the use of the 'HD assets packs', please read the terms and respect them.
FInally, in the event the games are taken down for the breaching of the terms above, I ask you not to reupload or share it any longer.
If you don't know whether your content breaches the terms written here, message me and ask.
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Pregaming
In which Jasmine and Amir find themselves preparing for the Midsummer Masquerade.
Featuring @snikker-doooo‘s Amir
Note: This was actually written in response to last year’s masquerade, several months after the fact. I’ve posted it here before, but Tumblr’s search function doesn’t function, so... Anywho, it felt fitting to post the day before since it technically takes place right before the actual party.
@the-midsummer-masquerade
Content: cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, light dom/sub dynamics, praise (I don’t post writing on here super often, so let me know if I need to tag something else.)
After fussing over her hair and makeup for what must have been at least an hour, Jasmine finally left the bathroom. Amir, who had let himself into her little apartment, was standing in front of her vanity, straightening his tie in the mirror. He wore a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly and her favorite cologne. His outfit was a perfect compliment to the revealing set of straps she called a dress. Just as he'd told her she would earlier that day, she liked what she saw.
Just the sight of him in that suit was enough to make her want to rip it off of him.
Without looking up from the mirror, he smirked. "Glad to see you like it," he commented. Damn that werejackal nose of his. He always knew what effect he had on her. Fortunately, all it took was a functioning pair of eyes to see the feeling was reciprocated when he did look at her.
"I prefer you in nothing, but I guess this'll do," she said, playing it cool simply to be coy.
She crossed over to him. Her hands trailed over his arms as her gaze mimicked the motion over his chest. Stars, he smelled nice. Even without the suit, the cologne would have been enough to make her consider cancelling their plans for the evening.
He leaned down to kiss her, but she jerked her face away. She scowled playfully at him. "Don't you dare smudge my lipstick!"
Amir barked a laugh. "It's going to get messed up anyway! I'm surprised you bothered with it at all." He tried again and ended up with her fingers on his lips, blocking the attempt. With a smirk, he took her fingers into his mouth. His tongue ran over her sensitive fingertips, and his hand took hold of her wrist, holding it in place.
Her lips parted as she watched him. When the tip of his tongue began to flick rapidly over the tip of her middle finger, she sighed, "That's not fair!"
He released her fingers and used his grip on her wrist to pull her to him. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pressing their bodies together. She could feel his cock hardening against her belly. "What's not fair," he growled, "is you denying me your sweet lips." Amir leaned forward as if to kiss her, but swerved at the last second to press his lips against her neck.
"I won't smudge your lipstick or mess up your hair, but I do plan to leave my mark. Make sure everyone who sees you at that party knows you're mine. Understand?"
She nodded. A moan escaped her lips as he sucked a hickey into her neck. And another down by her clavicle. And another on the other side.
He straightened, and for a moment she worried that those three marks were all he'd leave her with. The corner of his mouth curled slightly. "Get on the bed," he commanded.
Eager to please, she hopped back onto the bed so she was sitting up. Amir grabbed her by the ankle and tugged so she was near the edge. He knelt before her, his golden eyes peering up at her from between her thighs. "You're such a good girl," he crooned, brushing light kisses along her inner thigh. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. "I know you'll be good for whomever you meet tonight. But when all is said and done"--his eyes met hers again--"you're my good girl."
Amir set to work sucking and nibbling on her thighs, spurred on by a chorus of her moans. Her head tilted back, eyes shut. When the tip of his tongue stroked the sensitive skin at the crease where her thigh met her neatly-trimmed pubic mound, she nearly forgot herself and let her head hit the silk bedsheets. The scant fabric of her favorite thong allowed him to easily tease her. A single finger pulled the lace to the side as his lips moved slowly over her outer lips. She whined at the feeling of his hot breath on her clit, but she knew better than to interrupt his slow torment.
After what felt like several minutes of his mouth pressing against skin just outside of where she wanted it, she heard his honeyed voice say, "Very good. I see you've finally learned patience."
"I have excellent teachers." The last syllable gave way quickly to a gasp as his tongue finally traced over her vulva.
"I think you've earned a reward. What do you think?"
Breathlessly, she nodded. When he only continued to stare at her expectantly, she said, "Yes, sir."
This earned her the masterful workings of his tongue over her opening while his thumb kneaded her clit. Flicking. Stroking. He knew what she liked. Moreover, he knew her tells for when her release was imminent. As soon as she was close, his lips latched onto her clit, sucking fiercely. The effect was immediate, and waves of pleasure wracked her body, making her cry out.
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. His tongue flicked out at her sensitive clit a few more times, making her shudder. With a lazy roll of her head, she was looking at him again with a gaze both satisfied and affectionate. She watched him slide her thong down over her leather boots and slip it into his pocket. Even with where they were going, the length of her dress had her thinking she should wear something underneath, but it seemed Amir had other plans.
Jasmine sat up and leaned forward to grab at his waistband. Deft hands unbuttoned his pants and freed his beautiful erection, the tip glistening with precum. Without any thought other than how she wanted to taste it, she ran the flat of her tongue over the swollen head of his cock. She heard him laugh again before putting his hand under her chin to lift her face. "What happened to not wanting to smear your lipstick?" he asked. His golden eyes were alight with amusement and hunger. "Besides, you wouldn't want to be late to the party, would you?"
With a gesture, he bade her to stand and led her over to her vanity with its big mirror. His movements were rough as he positioned her exactly the way he wanted her. Her hands were propped on the vanity table, her rear pressed against him. In her heels, she was the perfect height for him to take her in this position. He rubbed the length of his cock against her slit, sending shivers through her.
One hand took position at her throat while his face nuzzled the side of her head. His voice was low, barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you want."
Her eyes met his in the mirror. "I want you to fuck me. I want to watch you fuck me."
No sooner had she finished her request than he was sliding into her with a hard thrust that made her cry out. He wasted no more time with teasing, opting instead to start with a fast pace he knew they both liked.
Her eyes were fixed on her reflection and her expression of ecstasy as he drove into her. The curve of her lips, parted by continuous cries. The marks he'd left on her neck and collarbone. The vigorous bouncing of her tits, barely contained by her dress. She could hardly believe how utterly enchanting she looked.
The hand on her throat tightened its grip while his other hand reached down to strum her clit. Her senses were overwhelmed, and it wasn't long before her cries were increasing in pitch. Her climax crashed through her, but Amir didn't let up, drawing it out until, with a few more erratic thrusts, he was emptying into her.
He held her to him a moment while they caught their breath, whispering praise into her ear between light kisses to her neck. This went on long enough for her to feel their cum drip past his cock and down her bruised thigh. Jasmine reached behind herself to caress his neck and jaw with a contented hum. She was always loathe to separate from him after sex, but decided this time it was worth it to keep cum from dripping onto her boots.
After getting cleaned up, straightening their clothes, and donning their masks, it was time to leave for the party. On their way out, she peeked once again at her reflection, which earned her a playful smack on her rear. No matter who she encountered at this masquerade, there'd be no question that she'd already been claimed.
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Untitled