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#god I've been waiting to write that scene for ages now I'm so glad i finally did it
deandoesthingstome · 1 year
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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!”
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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.
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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.
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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’
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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
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evilwickedme · 1 year
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Ooh, do you have any good Jason fic recs?
anon I cannot tell you how long I've been waiting to see those words!!!! yes I have good Jason fic recs in fact I have so many good Jason fic recs that after narrowing it down I still have fifteen links for you
I have read more fanfic for Jason Todd than maybe any other character ever. I do not understand the hold this man has on me but it's simply the situation we're in. anyway
Jason comes home fics
Make a Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is hands down my favorite. I'm talking favorite DC fic, top fics of all time period, not just from this list. I love this fic series. It is actively and regularly updating, thank fuck, because that little boost of serotonin is everything keeping me going I swear
The 70 Days After Groundhog Day is technically from Dick's POV, but it's about the aftermath of a timeloop that Jason was stuck in. it's. oh my god it's so good. just trust me on this one.
Emotional Motion Sickness is the "bruce goes to therapy" fic series we all want. canon get on this level
Retrograde Motion - I never used to like de-aging fics; not for any particular reason, I just never vibed with them. Recently I decided to see what all the fuss was about (bc there's so goddamn many in this fandom) and I'm glad, because I opened this fic and it's just. oh my god. the use of the de-aging trope here is truly incredible. after a whole week of dipping my feet into the trope I never need to do so again, because this fic made me fucking lose it. this is not going where you think it's going. also, for some reason there's not that much rebirth outlaws fic, and I really like what this author did with that team
matching wounds haha just gonna sneak my fic series on here and pretend that it was an accident, wait how did that get there (some jayroy later in the timeline too which can be read on its own if Jason coming home fics aren't for you)
other non-ship
Too Much Fucking Salt deals with the straw that broke the camel's back. I've read all 22k words of this in one sitting more than once. this is the anti "Jason Todd comes home" fic (this is in itself a whole genre of fic too honestly).
take his name out of your mouth (you don't deserve to mourn) is about Jason mourning himself, which he fucking deserves to. also he smokes a joint with Dick
Sown in Winter is about Jason pulling himself out of a depressive episode partially through the power of Stardew Valley. also technically jayroy, but it's honestly incidental to the story for the most part imo
JayRoy
I do read other ships for Jason but unabashedly this is my favorite, so
A Solid Resume - competency kink. that's all I have to say.
Tenderize is a series of oneshots all of which slowly build Jason and Roy's life together and coparenting lian and I just !!! could also double as a Jason coming home au but honestly that's mostly in the first fic. also a lot of discussion of various chain grocery stores in the united states that I will probably never actually step foot in
Dick Grayson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Two to Three Weeks (But Who's Counting) is so fucking funny I die every time I reread this. there's a scene early on in a coffee shop that just. I don't even know what to say everything about this is perfect. I AM the girl sticking her nose in their business, at least spiritually.
dust devils on the horizon isn't even the only western au I've bookmarked for these two. something about jayroy and horses, man
unity of time: april 27th, 2020 is just,,,, super sad, man, idk what to tell you. it's f!jayroy, but happens after Roy died in sanctuary during the 24h of Jason's death day, so all of it is very fucking depressing. It's also fucking beautiful. I want to reread it now.
Promise After That I'll Let You Go is a poisonivory fic. I was introduced to poisonivory through the daredevil fandom earlier this year and may I tell you when I found out that this author writes for jayroy I lost my goddamn mind. this is my personal favorite, but I almost recommended at least two more aus. Their jayroy sugar daddy au is one of the only sugar daddy aus I've ever truly enjoyed. also really like the one where roy has had feelings for dick since their teen titans days but still starts a fwb thing with Jason. poisonivory can make me into kinks I'm not even into I s2g. anyway this one has lian literally dragging roy back into jason's life
finally, Reciprocation (or: Sex as Violence) shouldn't even really count as a jayroy fic but I feel weird putting it in the other category since it is sort of a jayroy fic. it's ace-aro!jason, which is one of my personal favorite interpretations of Jason (with so much textual evidence wtf), but there's still like... a lot of sex in this. Jason does not have a healthy relationship with sex in this fic. I would describe this as ending in a QPP for jayroy and lian.
honestly there's a lot of good jason and roy and lian fic out there I didn't rec cause this is already long enough
so yeah this is my very VERY pared down fic rec list for Jason Todd let me know if you want more and thank you so much for asking
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too-much-sunshine · 10 days
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Finished the most recent chapter, and as an aroacespec person myself, I was so comforted by the slow and natural progression you've given Scar and Grians relationship in this. I'm inclined to physical affection myself, and that's something frequently excluded in pairings that people write as aroace/qpr adjacent. A lot of times they're always considered strictly romantic, but the way you've written this feels so right in the sense of Queerplatonic, as you mentioned you intended originally in the notes. I just wanted to say thank you for that! Reading how they hold each other and comfort one another (wont go into detail, as to not spoil ch26 for anyone reading this) just clicks in a way that's Their Connection, and it doesn't feel like it's trying to or needs to be anything else. It's so content, and it makes me feel so warm to see that in a fic with two characters I resonate with a lot.
Not to mention the plot- omg, I've been fawning over it all week! My favorite moment I think is definitely the kitchen scene with Iskall and Scars little standoff- the visual was so sassy and queer from Scars end, it just made me cackle to no end I absolutely loved the attitude. But really, I try not to theorize too much when reading stories that way every turn feels like a huge shock, and this fic keeps my attention so well I didn't even have the chance to, I was far too busy enjoying every little flair of dialogue and fluid change of scenario. I literally gasped and yelled "OH /SHIT/" aloud multiple times, I'm not embarassed to say it. There are so many details you kept so quaint and innocent at the beginning, I never even questioned them until their importance later on!
This story has been absolutely, insanely, phenomenally fun to read, and I can't wait to see where you take things next. I've been planning my own fic for ages, and reading something like this has really inspired me to pick up my pages and keep going. I hope you have a wonderful day, and that you have a lot of fun working on the rest of the story! I know I'm dying to read the next chapter whenever you feel it's right to show, and others will be too :).
Much love!
- minecraft-cake
OH MY GODS IM GONNA CRYYYY (/pos) TOO LATE I AM CRYINGGGG TTTTTTT AAAaaaa this means so much to me TTTT ASDFGHJK
Ive said it before, and I'll say it again: I started writing WOftL because I wanted to read something like it, but it hadnt been written. Not only in the superhero space (even tho I am a bit a whore for superhero fics UuU) but also just aspec wise. Im arospec/ace, and I just felt it wasnt being represented in a way the resonated with me!! So I wrote it myself <3
Im so glad that it resonates with others as well! I really hope that deciding to change the relationship romantic doesnt takes away from that! I feel like, personally, it doesnt change their background and their connection for each other. I certainly dont plan to have them act much differently then they do now lmaooo
Ommffggg you are so nicceee TTTTTT If Im forced to say one thing I'm proud of for this fic, i'd say the foreshadowing turned out much better then I expected lmaooo This is my first looongg fic, so I really happy with that turned out!! I have so much I can say about specific scenes and how they came to be in my brain!!! But for specifically Iskall and Scar, I loved how their little plot came out! Those two have History UuU
Thank you so much for reading and the kind wordsss!! This seriously made my whole week and its only monday!! Im so happy to have inspired you, and if your willing to share I would love to read your fic when you write it! I hoep you have a phenonial day, week, month, year and life bestie <3<3<3<3
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goldenscript · 2 years
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ahhhhhhh (incoherent screams) you finally saw that reblog of mine where i just ugh (proceeds to hide) i just.... let it all out. you see, sometimes i`m just a ball of emotional wreck & whenever i read some outrageously good, my emotional side of the brain just start gearing up its engines.
idk how to explain but i was nervous after posting my thoughts under sad machines because i thought what if you got weirded out by me spilling all those extremely personally thoughts. i was like "ah you stupid, why did you go so overboard with your thoughts?? what if em thinks you`re just plain weird?" i was just very very nervous.
BUT after seeing how you were happy reading whatever the fuck i wrote (god, it`s still embarrassing, that`s like me confessing my love for sad machines) i`m glad i wrote it, nonetheless, i hope that made you happy. that`s all that matters.
also, you`re amazing, em! i hope you & your best friend had a good laugh. i hope you`re doing well these days? please stay safe & make sure to stay hydrated! you`re extremely precious & deserve all the happiness in the world.
i love love love love you & your brain & your hands which writes these amazing stories, em. take care.
~koyel
i've been hoarding this message for ages so i apologize if you were waiting for me to respond sooner and for suddenly getting a random notification from me. it's been a while since i've logged in on here. i'm in grad school now, in a different city, and in a different period of my life. but what i will say is "sad machines" holds a wonderful place in my heart. your words were not weird, and i am truly, undoubtedly touched that you spent as much time as you did to write your sweet thoughts. i am doing very well these days! still battling writer's block, but i'm a poet now. i write scenes of fic and am trying to transition into non-fanfic writing, so that's been fun. still finding my way, but finding that it's coming together quite nicely. i love you and your kindness! i really hope you're doing well, staying safe, and most importantly, taking care of yourself, koyel!
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eccaiia · 2 years
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Okay so I'm dying of laughter right now, so it's taking a minute to send this ask. But I'll ask about 'Outline - Attempt 942' and 'Scenes 7'. I'm glad I randomly picked you to tag!
i'm fucking dying i cannot believe out of THIRTEEN OPTIONS you picked the ONE scenes file with NOTHING of interest in
friend
HOW DID YOU MANAGE THIS TWICE
So, okay, while I claw some oxygen into my lungs- "Outline - Attempt 942". I can't really share a clip from it because it is what it says on the tin. It's an outline. More than that, it's my current outline. I suck at them, so when I realised I'd have to make another one, it felt like I'd already made about 8, so I got sassy at the fact that I had to make another one and labelled it Attempt 942 :'D
And. Well. "Scenes 7". The scenes files are, every one of them, a convoluted mess of those random little ideas you get while writing that just don't fit in the story, no matter how much you want them to. They used to all go in one file, but there's so much text in those files that it was a nightmare to navigate and also my editor started lagging, so I split it up into a bunch of shorter parts. That's why there's so many of them.
So now, whenever I get an idea that won't leave me alone, rather than let it bug me for a week and make me sad, I pull up my latest Scenes File and write it out. Most of these scenes have no beginning or exposition, and almost all of them randomly cut off at any given line because my inspiration ran out. And 7. Just. Well. 7.
7 should have been burned the moment I made it, that's all I'm saying
Nah, I'm kidding, it's mostly alright, despite being old now. It's just full of context-dependent scenes and tiny pieces that I've been trying to make interesting for like 20 minutes now. Pieces like these:
Jack turned to look once again over the disaster zone that was Henry's room. Harriet was waiting by the window, and raised her eyebrows expectantly. 'Right,' Jack said again, shaking himself awake, and quickly introduced them. 'Chief handler?' Henry asked curiously. 'My boss,' Jack said, 'so try not to show me up.'
--
After what seemed an age of waiting in silence, Jack whirled around. His eyes were pure white and bleeding, two red lines trailing down his cheeks. His movements became jerky, angry. 'Oh, no,' he said, curling his lip, 'not today, you bastard!' Henry opened his mouth to speak, when Jack let out a cry of pain. His hands stilled, his body going rigid. He closed his eyes, and sank to all fours.
--
The alarm clock rattled, piercing Jack's quiet dream, and he bit back a groan. Beside him, Henry shifted, silencing the alarm and rubbing at his face. Jack didn't care to move. 'Bloody noise,' Henry grunted, his voice still rough from sleep. 'I know you haven't slept through that.' Jack made a small, indecipherable noise to let him know he was awake. The thought of opening his eyes and facing today was still a step too far. He hated dinners and dances, and today was set to bring both. 'I wholeheartedly agree,' Henry said, and Jack managed a smile.
There are so many more interesting scenes and clips in the other files, but you picked 7. I haven't laughed this hard for this long in weeks, oh my god how did you manage this. thank you :'D
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wrapped-up · 2 years
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ELLO FRIEND! 🌙🌙
it's been ages! how have you been? hope everything's good and well for you! things have been hectic but in getting my life back on track i am properly caught up and just jumped with joy at the email for the new chapter. and now I have thoughts™.
first of all is marlene is genuinely hilarious. oh my GOD she's so fucking funny, her povs are such joy and it's so fun to see how you develop her (and lily for that matter) with her own voice (since of course before you've only done remus sirius povs) I love it!! the content is brilliant! there's something so hilariously authentic in her interactions with people and the conversations - like the one with alan digby and his wife sandra who went up everest and didn't come back down?? literally where else are you going to find that shit it's priceless
second. DORCAS! so happy to finally meet her! the way you described her (and how marlene fancies her) had my heart ready to explode, she's wonderful and im very excited to see how that relationship progresses as the funeral/churchy stuff is all over now. my best bet is that marlene in her cotton wool brain is going to end up going back to the church just to see her and like.. have to pretend she's interested in religion when really she's just gay and pining. but honestly who knows. i can never predict your narratives and it makes them so much more fun
thirdly. remus and sirius. HELLO. remus is such a mess it's almost comical, when he banged himself into the pew because he caught sight of sirius in the silk shirt... oh you MESS. they're so enamoured with each other it's crazy you can FEEL it. and it's so inevitable that remus is going to end up going back to him considering how easily he cracks (example, the dancing scene with himself letting him look. my gosh.) they're like fucking magnets. also i am horribly attached to this little garden that sirius loves so much and i cant wait to see how it progresses and what lawyer-y stuff remus does to try and help save it. if sirius isn't already in love he is going to fall HARD
okay. this is getting too long i'm sorry but i need to talk about lily. she's wonderful. i know i said earlier all of your characters are so authentic and real but lily has to be the best of the bunch. she's just the perfect example of what it is to be a woman. her insecurities and her thought processes sometimes get me RIGHT in the chest, her endometriosis is so important and amazing to see represented so brazenly because reproductive issues with uterus owners are talked about so little! taboos on this stuff sucks! taboos on womanhood in general sucks! i personally want to give lily a little cuddle and tell her how wonderful she's doing but i cannot so i'm gonna need her and james to sort their stuff out so he can (your JP is so so wonderful by the way i'm halfway in love with him and i love what you've done with the J/L dynamic! they're feeling like right person wrong time, and I love that it's lily who kind of has to figure herself out before they come back together. it's so real; i've literally had a relationship like that. you always make me re-fall in love with jily so quickly and i love it <3)
okay there's many more things i could say but this is way too long so i'll stop here. thank you for your writing! the update made my day and your characters are near and dear to my heart. have a good one 🌙🌙🌙🤍🤍🤍
Hello dearest! 🌙 I hope you're doing well, and I'm very glad to hear that things are looking up! I'm really good thanks, just sort of mulling around writing the odd paragraph, eating blueberries and occasionally doing a bit of 'real' work.
Can I just say that when I saw this in my inbox, I gave a little squeal of joy?! You spoil me with such thorough and enthusiastic feedback and I'm ever grateful.
I'm so so pleased you're enjoying Marlene! I have also become very fond of her as I've been writing and I just love trying on her thoughts when it comes to her chapters. I'm also enjoying the Alan love because he's destined for great things!
Ooh, Dorcas. I can't tell you the patience I have had to exercise waiting to introduce her. I feel like in other fics I've written, she's never been quite fully formed in my head. This time, I've got a better idea of where I want her to go.
Sirius and Remus = tragic. Come on boys, just have a little cuddle.
Thank you for saying that about Lily. I read so much stuff where she's just this perfect, virginal figure and I just... can't see it. She's surely going to be just as messy as the rest of them!
Anyway, thank you again. I'm so thrilled you're having fun and wish you all the best for the coming weeks!
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ahundredtimesover · 2 years
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A Still Day or A Hurricane Feedback/Comments (03)
@ohmydarlin-g asked: I've been so disconnected from tumblr after I got a new job so I had no idea asdoah was coming but I just read the first chapter and OH MY GOD I am so in love already I love MCs independence and down to earth attitude while JK is a free spirit with a heart of gold. I feel like this pairing is gonna be so refreshing and sweet just like a strawberry tart 😋 I can't wait for more! (Also is it possible to be added to the tag list I don't remember if you do that???)
Hiii congrats on the new job! 🎉 I’m glad you’re loving the characters so far. They’re honestly so cute pls and ur right, refreshing. There’s just something about a playful, cheeky JK that’s so alluring. I’m excited for you learn more of how they are! And yes to adding you to the taglist. Thanks so much for reading! 🥰
@jeoncookie-bts asked: Authornim!!!! I love asdoah so much! OC is such an inspiration, a bad bitch (in a very VERY positive way)! She knows what shes doing and shes good at it, can easily be independent on her own. And jungkook being the persistent yet mature guy!!!!!! Give me him!!!!!!! I love love LOOOOVEEE this dynamic between the two of them so much, and im so excited to see progress in their so called friendship lol! Seeing that both of them agreed to this "friendship", i wonder what's actually in store for them 🤩 great work authornim! cant wait for the next chap! 🥰
This JK and this OC are so, so special to me and you’ll see more of their flaws and amazing sides. But yes, this JK is something else and I think you’re gonna like him a lot! We all want him, don’t we? 🥺 Every time I think of that VLive, I get a whiplash. 🥵 Pls think of him while reading haha. Thank you so much for this! ☺️
🍧Anonymous asked: Hi mimi!!! Excited for your new series even tho I'm not in a good mental space these days 😭 i dont usually read fics where the OC is older bc I'm... younger than jk heehhe but still!! I feel like I've made a lot of exceptions for your writings bc you're just that good🤍
Looking forward to see how their relationship progress and how the baby would come to be 🙈🙈🙈 i love how flirty JK is and even tho he said he's okay with friendship now, I kinda wish to see more of them flirty sides 👀 Do you have a schedule for this? Anyhow. Havw a good week!
I totally get you but I’m the opposite! Haha but thank you for giving this a shot, it means a lot. ☺️ The age thing won’t be as pronounced as the story goes on, as their other differences take the front seat. And flirty sides, you ask? There’ll be alotttt. I’ve never written so many flirty scenes but it’s a 130+k fic hehe 😂 so they’ll be popping out a lot. I hope you enjoy the rest of it. You can find the series masterlist here. 😊
Anonymous asked: I LOVE FLIRTY JK SO MUCHHH HE WAS SO ADORABLE AND FUNNY I JUST COULDNT STOP SMILING THE ENTIRE TIME THANK YOU FOR GIVING US THIS FIC
AHHHH I AGREE! This JK makes me smile soooo much bc he’s a flirt through and through and we love him for it. Thank you so much for reading! 🥰🥰
@jmnkooks asked: Hi mimi hope you’re doing well 🤍 I just wanted to say that I am already in love with the first chapter and can’t wait to read the rest of your new story!! Thank you for sharing your talent with us 😘 sending love from italy
Oh, thank you so much! I’m fine and I hope you’re doing well, too. ☺️ So many more things happen and I hope you like the rest of it. I appreciate your kind words and sending you love back from the Philippines! 💜💜
Anonymous asked: asdoah is the fic ive been looking for 😩 ive been looking for a single mom oc since i keep seeing dilf member fics hehe im glad u posted asdoah mimi!!! im excited to see where the story goesss 😆
Hiii I agree! That’s why this was pretty exciting to write because there’s so much to explore with a badass, single mom OC and a cheeky JK who just wants her attention. ��� Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy the rest of it! 🥰
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imbeccable-writes · 2 years
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So I’ve been reading A Tale of Two Mothers and I just have a few of things to say:
1. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU YOU MONSTER RIP OUT MY HEART AND STOMP ON IT WILL YOU (affectionate, grateful, in awe)
2. Is this fic inspired by that one ask ages ago about how bad it would be for Mai to see Yakko blaming himself for her death and spiralling into self-loathing and emotional detachment as a result?
3. Will we be seeing the ghosts of other characters fallen to Salazar’s evil along Mai and Queen Angelina’s journey? Oh! Wait! Maybe when Marin is shot and almost dies he briefly gets the ability to see ghosts or sense them or something! And Angelina comforts him and thanks him for being there for her daughter.
4. Angelina insisting she can handle everything is totally understandable, but it isn’t good for her. I bet if all the grief broke out of her at once, or her rage at her children’s plight consumed her (like seeing Dot get abused in the tax collector’s house) she’d make a hell of a static monster… and then Mai would have to ground her as a reverse of her own partial transformation scene…
5. (joke) How do they know what static on screens looks like in a pre-electricity kingdom?
1.
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2. A lot of Mai's reactions were based on that ask, or developed from it at least, but the fic itself was just born from my own ponderings about how Mai and Angelina would get along since both of them were Yakko's mother for a time of his life. There were a bunch of scenes that I imagined Mai or both of them reacting to from Separated (which was my first mistake) and I started indulging what kind of plot I could follow (which was my second mistake), and then I was like "GOD if I don't write this right now I will EXPLODE", so I've been writing this thing instead of writing separated chapter 12 akdjakdjq. I am very very pleased with how it came out, and I'm glad I did decide to write it out fully because I think it'll add a unique perspective to the story as a whole.
3. I toyed with the idea of having other ghosts come into play, but besides Mai I haven't killed any named and lovable characters, so I didn't really have anything to work with. Other ghosts will be mentioned, but for the most part we'll just be hanging out with Mai and Angelina, our two favorite moms :)
4. ;)
5.
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... hm.
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noahstayed · 3 years
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Sorry if you've already answered these questions but I still want to ask them so...
1) Are you going to make another book after Earthshine?
(If the answer is yes; (and you don't have to answer this one,) Are you going to do a time skip or will you go the 'the condom broke'?)
2) Will Edward have a mate (If yes; will you create an OC or simply pluck a character from the twilight saga archives are revamp them?)
3) If you do make a version of Breaking Dawn, will it have the same premise (Ie. Wedding, Honeymoon, (I typed hUMANmoon and then corrected it, don't know why my fingers went there.) surprise pregnancy (or not? Because Carlisle is a DOCTOR) turning, then the Volturi going all "We must kill the child!"?)
4) With regards to question three, in the (honestly, and sadly, unlikely) ( completely forgot what word I was going to type, and It as too much trouble to type that so I'm just going to use another word that won't flow as well) situation (I'm so unhappy with this word, my stomach is turning something fierce, man.) that you DO go the standard "with the other book as a very, very, loose guideline) Would you go the route of OYH or would make an entirely new plot?
Also, if you do go with the same general outline, (which is unlikely since Irina isn't with Laurant in newmoon but with Charlie, so there's no bitter feelings and she won't immediately go to the kings before she's heard Carlisle's explanation.) How would you make that work?
5) I know you said that if you do make a fourth book you would just use the dhampire from OYH, Elisha, does that still reign true? Or are you planning to make a new character entirely?
6) If you do make a fourth, and go the OYH route, would you still make Elisha Emse's mate, like in OYH? Or will you go with Garette?
7) Also, since you have previously made an ff about Garette and Bella having a brother-sister type friendship would we see that and get to see Garette claim her as his sister and charlie as his father, and everyone goes along with it? (Honestly, I REALLY want this to happen, especially since I've spent the last hour scrolling through your tumbler and stumbled upon the 'I'm older than my father' post.)
8) Really, all these questions border on the main one of "is there going to be a breaking dawn/part 4-5 (depending) in your rewrite?" but if you do, would Carlisle buy Isle Bella as a honeymoon present of would that be in the oneshots book (that you'll hopefully be writing after this is over) as like a "Have fifteenth anniversary" thing?
9) Are you going to write a book full of random one-shots you couldn't fit into your story? I REALLY HOPE SO.
enthusiastically hope so. :) (that's really a tense smile with eyes SHINING with hope. Just informing you that you'll be crushing my heart. Brutally. With a stake. No pressure :) )
10) If you don't write the fourth book will we get an epilogue with the wedding five years later? Like, with Bella being SUPER nervous?
And finally, 11) (I really want a war to showcase Bella's awesome vampire powers (because you've stated (in a previous Tumblr post) that you'd give Bella her BAMF!Bella OYH powers)) So if there's a part four, even though the Volturi is "lawful" and like, has a brain, in your series, can they like have a brain fart where they go. "He's making an army," Or just straight up CANNON!Aro with his need for power be like "It's an immortal child, and it needs to be destroyed." But really be thinking, "They're growing too large, already their numbers rival our own, they must be put down! This is the perfect time!" Like the (cowardly) power-hungry and villainess we all know and love. Kinda.
I have other questions but those can really wait lol.
I basically want breaking dawn and the third (Do you count Charlie's book as part of Bella's story or as a stand-alone since you weren't really progressing the plot very much (also a very good way to have a time skip in your main)?) isn't even done yet.
I don't know if you can tell, but I've been reading this series for three days straight (new fan!) and just started your OYH series and I'm just filled with a desire right now. Like, I typically hate sex scenes in a twilight book (but that's because I was a child when these movies came out (saw them all in theatre!) and still was when I read the books, so Bella is SACRED lol, and It just makes me uncomfortable to imagine her in those positions (it's like a trauma okay?) but I really enjoyed your stories (even if I basically glossed over your sex scenes and read through them quickly) and could actually sit through your sex scenes (mostly, because it wasn't INTENSE! Like, a lot of rewrites turn breaking dawn into literal Porn and sully the books for me because they basically remove a lot of plot to make room for Bella's sudden appetite, and while, yes, you gave her an appetite and... I am just really enjoying your stories and how you write so Thank You.
Okay, I've let you know your appreciated and put out my question into the tumblr universe so now I just have to wait for you to see this and maybe respond.
I hate waiting.
I haven't gotten an ask in a while and AJKHFJKHD Listen!! THE FACE I MADE AT HOW LONG THIS IS??? Superb!! I'm honored you've taken the time to write this all out so I'm gonna try to answer you as best as I can!!
Right now I'm 100% sure that there will be a couple of Novellas/Novelettes directly after Earthshine. The Renee Story, the Charlie Story, and the Roommate Story which all will get maybe 40k and mini plots that are far more focused than Charlie's first story. Charlie's new story will be focused on his relationship with Carlisle too, so that should be fun!
Edward having a Mate is still up in the air at the moment. Since he is still very young, I don't see the need to really give him someone so quick when other characters have waited WAAAY longer. As for who it might be, that's also still up in the air in case I want to do a short story with him that's a part of a series of Novellas after the main books
If I do make a BD rewrite IT WILL have wedding/honeymoon/surprise pregnancy then it will PRETTY MUCH go off the rails from there because the Pregnancy will be VASTLY different. Carlisle is a Doctor and Bella isn't an idiot. They won't be in Washington either.
Again. The first half will be loosely based on the book and then just go completely off the rails because, Like you said, the Volturi have brains and I LOATHE an 'idiot' plot where people are required to suddenly become stupid for the story to work. As for the OYH route, I will be borrowing a couple elements from OYH but the conflict will be very different.
Elisha is baby and there's no way I could make another Dhampir at this point. Not with how much I love him.
The aging process will work differently in this fic for Dhampirs, so this question is irrelevant since Elisha will be a child for the entire fourth book. As for when he's older, Its still up in the air for this series. He deserves to be baby and I very much dislike the trope of age faster = mentally develop faster because that's BS.
We'll see, I love Bella and Garrett, but there's A LOT I'll have to cram into the last book so we'll just see.
As much as I'd love to answer this, I'm covering the honeymoon in the fourth book so you'll see what happens in there ; )
I HAVE PLANS for random one shots. I REALLY DO. I just has so little time to work on the main story so I might write some when Earthshine is done! I have a name for the one-shot collection already too and some Ideas!
I very much plan to write the fourth book you'll be fine. Bella will not be nervous, she'll be WAY more anxious about it going right. Mostly her nerves will be from anticipation and excitement because she'll be 23 and be very secure in her forever with Carlisle.
There will be a fight in book four that will not have the Volturi turning stupid. Don't worry about how.
Charlies little story is a Novella so I don't count it as a book.... GOD hearing you plowed through the series in so short a time is MIND boggling. I get people telling me this occasionally and I NEVER stop being amazed by it!
As for the sex scenes, yeah, I didn't want this to be erotic literature. I frequently scream that 'THIS ISN'T A SMUT BOOK' because them having sex is just a normal healthy thing that happens in relationships and wanted to show that. The sex scenes I write tend to be glossed over anyways so I'm glad it was readable for you. I get feeling frustrated and wanting more plot, but there are plenty of people who prefer the very explicit smut.
If sex scenes aren't your cup of tea, that's fine. I don't view Bella as pure and innocent though. It teeters dangerously on the Madonna/Whore dichotomy to act like she is. I get wanting to preserve the innocence of your childhood through her. That's not me though. Bella/Carlisle's relationship is highly sexual in nature within SoG and that's ALRIGHT too!
Thanks for the super long ask!!! it was great to read and fun to respond to!
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that-wildwolf · 3 years
Text
I was tagged by @crescentbunny and I'm not tagging anyone in particular because I never really have a good grip on who's already done a tag game and who hasn't...
Anyway! Here goes :)
How many works do you have on AO3?
I write lots of one-shots, so this should be around thirty... Yep, twenty-seven.
What’s your total AO3 word count?
Where do you check that? You can check that???
*spends approximately 10 minutes going through AO3 settings they didn't know existed*
Cool! A lot of features I didn't know about. Anyway, um. Yes. My total word count is, for the moment, 471,674 words.
Wow. I. Um. Almost 500K words. But—and this is extremely important—I feel like this graph contains some vital information:
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How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Wow. Okay. I'll do this in chronological order because I never really counted.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Inheritance, Assassin's Creed, The Wolf Among Us, The Walking Dead, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Attack on Titan, Fallout, Sarah Jane Adventures, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect, Steven Universe. I don't think I missed anything...?
That adds up to 13.
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Of course I do! I thrive on feedback! Not implying that my entire self-esteem hinges on the approval of strangers on the internet, but comments are the best fucking thing ever! Instant serotonin for a whole day! Of course I'll reply! I love getting into little conversations with my readers, too!
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Wow. I'm usually more of a happy ending kind of person, but A New Quest (which I wrote at the super proud age of 11) did end with half of the main characters dead and a memorial service for them as the last scene, so... You know. If you consider that angsty, then sure.
Fun fact: Crossing A Line was actually originally supposed to end with Shepard dying! The last chapter (which to me still feels a bit out of place) was rewritten completely. I'm glad I changed it, though. I'm having a lot of fun with the sequel!
What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
A month ago I'd have said Waiting Between Worlds without second thoughts—does it count as a happy ending when the whole fic is just a happy ending?—but it's just been going downhill the last three or four chapters. Pretty much every one of my one-shots in the When I Need You series. Also, Crossing A Line, I guess, now that it has a happy ending.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I... really don't. I'm wildly ace, all my sex knowledge comes from smut and porn and I'm pretty sure that if I were to actually write the adult stuff, I'd either go way overboard and make it too obscene to read or end up with something completely dry and clinical and unreadable too.
When there's sex scenes in my fic, I usually leave them implied. I say the characters had sex, but I never explicitly write the actual sex. I don't think I'd be good at it. (Actually, I've tried plenty of times and I know I'm not. It's the dirtiest, kinkiest filth you'd ever see and I'd really recommend against reading it.)
I do like writing the pre-chorus to sex, as it were, though. The sensual foreplay to the sexual foreplay. The soft or heated moments leading up to the act. I've even gotten comments about my lime being "extremely hot despite not being smut" and I'm more than happy with that description.
Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the strangest one you’ve written?
I used to write crossovers. Now I only sometimes write AUs based on a different fandom, like a Shakarian Kimi no Na wa!AU.
The strangest crossover I've ever written? Don't know if any of them were strange. I had The Wolf Among Us/The Walking Dead crossovers and Doctor Who/Sarah Jane Adventures crossovers, but both of those pretty much exist in the same universe already, so... No. No weird crossovers.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
God, I hope not. At least none that I know of.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yes. Plenty. A lot. I'd wager around 4 out of 5 comments on my Shepard Twins fanfic are negative. I haven't updated the fic in a while, but that doesn't mean I'm not writing anymore. I have around 50K words' worth of WIP of it. So no, the hate comments don't bother me. (A lie: they bother me a lot. They even make me cry, sometimes. But they're not gonna be the reason I stop writing a story I enjoy.)
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
My very first fanfiction writing experience, actually. In retrospect, I think that worked out great, because that kind of cooperation made it easier to carry the whole thing through, get it to the end, and was a very positive experience - which is probably why I've continued to write fanfic.
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Ahhh. Royai or Shakarian? Royai or Shakarian? Stupid, since they're almost the same relationship dynamic, but they're both amazingly written. I'm edging a bit more towards Shakarian, because interspecies stuff is always a bonus. Still, it's a close competition.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I wish! I've translated other people's fics, but I've yet to have someone do that for me.
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I plan to hope to finish all my WIPs.
What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue. This is going to come off as boastful, but I think I'm pretty good at replicating individual characters' speech patterns.
What are your writing weaknesses?
According to my beta, I use elispses too liberally. According to me, I have trouble with transition scenes. I never write in order, so I always end up with disconnected scenes I need to join into a chapter. And the join parts don't even come easy to me.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Not a fan. (When I write fanfics in Polish, I sometimes use English, but that's not the same because everyone in Poland knows English anyway.) If it's a made-up language in the fandom, I like to include some words every now and then in dialogue - especially when it doesn't translate exactly. I love spotlighting cultural differences. I actually learned a load of Jel words for my Murkmire fanfics.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Good times. Damn, that was a long time ago. *suddenly gets the overwhelming realization that they've been writing fanfic for the bigger part of their life* ...Wow.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
Big Spoon/Little Spoon, a short Shakarian one-shot exploring the psychology of the Spacer background a bit. I also used lighting in a really cool way in this one! I'm really proud of it. Even when I call it "the Spooning As A Metaphor For Nationality Issues fanfic", I mean it in an affectionate way.
As far as non-one-shots go, I'm going with Crossing A Line. It's got it all: Enemies to Lovers, language barrier, interspecies awkwardness... Plus, writing from Garrus's POV is always a treat. I get to refer to humans as "aliens". What more could you want?
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julies-butterflies · 3 years
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I must admit, sometimes I do feel like a ye olden solider, sending letters to my beloved across the waves during wartime. Oh my dearest Lydia, I hope the kudos and comments crops have been plentiful this season. Your last letter left me weeping. Why must you put poor Reginald through such pain?
(I gotta admit, I still can't believe that I'm talking to you. I've been looking up to your work for so long...it just feels a bit surreal, even now! Glad you like hearing my ramblings! And that you liked my vampire prompt! Did not realize you'd write back when I sent that in. Look at us now, huh?)
(Speaking of prompts, I sent those jukebox and willex ones too. And I loved them both so so much, I shall scream about them more when it is not 2 am because I need sleep)
(Oh and the update of If I Was You!!! Amazing, Stellar, Incredible, Reggie, Carrie, Julie shenanigans is my new favorite thing, DID YOU JUST DOUBLE THE CHAPTER COUNT, and I'm like 90% sure Trevor is in deep trouble with a certain angry jazz ghost. Seriously loving it)
I actually do not remember what it was like to send in 1/5 asks, because I did not get a Tumblr until very reccently! I've always been a nerdy person, but Jatp is my first time being really in a fandom. You gotta do something new in quarantine, right?
Ah yes. Luke and Emily. To me, it just seems obvious that there's so much love between them. Even with all the pain. You get it. You put it down so eloquently.
As for what kind of stories I like to read...it seriously depends on my mood.
I like niche aus, passion projects. Stories where you can just feel the author's love for the world they're inventing. But I tend to lean towards cannonverse. I like ghost stories, it's what drew me to this show in the first place. And I love exploring that concept. (Being forever gone, and always the same...it's just fascinating to me)
Platonic goodness is just WONDERFUL for this show. I will read anything with cuddles. I am touched starved and these kiddos are too, and I will cry about them puppy piling every damn day. Plus there's just some much POTENTIAL for future friendships! I love ones where Flynn and Carrie get to interact with the boys as well. And 90s content, from before and after the orpheum, just hits hard.
I really wasn't expecting to get invested in the couples on this show, but something about them is moving to me. So I do love to read about them. Watching two queer kids who lived during incredibly important areas of queer history find love together after death really hit hard for me, and there's just something so bittersweet about a girl and ghost deciding to love each other for the little time they're given.
I love family dynamics too. Anything with Ray and his seven disaster children, the band and Trevor.... I think Julie and Emily is one of my favorite dynamics to explore. A girl who lost her mother and a mother who lost her son, both grieving but with one able to speak to the dead...it's just very powerful to me.
(And of course, Luke and Emily, but I figured you already knew that)
Mostly...I like seeing the messy stuff. The unexpected consequences, the baggage. I want to see the messy emotions, the grief and anger, the jealously, the disorientation. I look for those glass shards, that might be too sharp to ever be addressed on the show. Not even the big, monumental plot lines just... the harder pieces of life, the little moments that don't fit neatly into a nine episode arc.
I just want to see them live you know? Love, laughter and loss all mixed together.
(One of my all time favorite tropes is "found family gets broken apart by trauma, only to find each other again and come back stronger than ever." I feel like this explains a lot of my taste in fiction)
Thank you for the writing advice. Your words were very motivating. I am trying to begin! I got up the nerve to start working on a little piece. Who knows if it will go anywhere. But it's been nice, to finally put some words on the page.
The POTC au is so freaking good man. The character dynamics are just on FIRE. Everything is broken and messy and the relationships genuinely tug at my heartstrings. It's such a fascinating story. Highly recommend, even with the cliff hangers.
OH HOW COULD I FORGET PAWPRINTER? Man oh man I love all her work. The wheelies art and steals universe is freaking amazing, not an avacado had me in tears (of laughter, till things got surprisingly sad). And All that Remains...slow burn Willex perfection. Jedi Alex and Pilot Willie have my HEART.
I don't think I've read firefall and weneedglitter (or if I have, I'm just not connecting the names to their pieces. I don't always remember author names. it's a problem). I will go look for them though! Cannot wait!
For more recs, I recently binge read We Found Wonderland. I was not mentally prepared for the sheer amount of feelings that gave me. Highly recommend, if you ever want an emotional rollercoaster with an incredibly satisfying end.
Going on to more serious subjects...I'm sorry your family doesn't see your grief for what it is: honest. Better to feel everything quietly, than make it an easily understadnable performance. Fake grief is so easy to spot.
I think of that scene from "Forever," when Buffy breaks down and tells Dawn that she has to keep busy, because if she stops, it means Joyce is really gone. There's a lot of truth there.
On a tangent here but.. there was a very long period in my life when I was told the ways I expressed my emotions were "incorrect". And I found that sometimes, no matter how you show your emotions, you'll always be criticized. Numbness can be called disinterest, but sobbing can be called attention-seeking too. Too big, too small: that jury was impossible to please This may not apply in your situation but...it's okay to feel however you can. It's the only think you can do, really.
As I've said before, Grief is such an odd trickster.
Don't you ever get tired of missing people... This past year, I've been so weary of grief. Sometimes it can be so sharp, but it's that dull ache. That ball and chain, no longer cutting through your skin, but rubbing it raw, weighing you down.
And people don't like to talk about that part, because it's long and tiresome, but oh, is it there. I find it hard to talk about my grief, because sometimes there's just so much of it. I could drown in it, and that fear keeps me from looking to close. To incorrectly quote Jane Austin: "If I missed you a little less, I might be able to talk about it more."
(Sometimes it's faceable. But sometimes you just can't bear it. And that's okay.)
But what you wrote in that eulogy...the love is there. It's in every word you write. I cried reading that section. I feel honored once again to see some of your jagged pieces. You're sharing your heart, and there's just so much love.
In the wise words of an author I know, "Love is like the snow Reggie. It never goes away."
And don't worry, I'm always with you.
Sending Love,
-LydiaStan7845 (aka Vampire Anon)
So...that Reggie and Nicky prompt
my god
my GOD
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
I think it's safe to say congrats, you've officially destroyed me! I was not prepared for that at ALL. I should know better by now I guess.
I can't get over that even though they all take place in very different universe, all your stories just feel so connected! The way this talked about those headphones, which you mentioned in the first chapter of Kill Your Heroes...it's just so cool. All the characterization and backstory is just so well thought out, and it genuinely blows my mind.
I didn't think I could love Nicky Peters more. I was wrong. The way you write about him...even though you never go into exactly what happened to him after Reggie's death, you can just feel how much it's shapped him as a person. And the trauma around his father, and how he fears becoming like that, was just so beautifully written. He's just so lovable and flawed and trying so damn hard and you made my heart ache for him. Again.
You always take these genuinely crazy situations and...you just make them feel so real. I love you explore the strains such a revelation would put on Nicky's own life, it just makes everything so compellingly messy. It seriously feel like I was watching a real-life account of a family trying to deal with such a massive complication.
That porch scene had me in tears both times I read it. Reggie's just always a big brother, even though Nicky is more than twice his age now. My heart was shattered, and then you slowly mended it, piece by piece. And for absolutely no reason at all, you wouldn't happen to have a reference for the porch, would you?
Just wow. Hope you're doing well. Sending love and applause
-Vampire Anon
i’m not even gonna reply, but i want these documented... on my blog... for posterity.  ( for any curious onlookers, i’m dating this anon now!! )
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coinofstone · 4 years
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5x12 The Diamond of the Day pt 1
Final two episodes! Big finale! Why am I making myself cry in the middle of the afternoon! Both eps in this post.
I do love that they made Arthur a sore loser
Enter treacherous white woman #2. Srsly it was lazy writing when they did it for Mordred, it's worse now with Gwaine.
I do love the actual Round Table war room discussion but a) why isn't Merlin seated at the round table and b) why does Leon have so much goddamn faith in Camelot's walls? Like??? You literally said the same thing last year and yet Camelot *did* fall when Agravaine brought an army through the tunnels!
Poor Aithusa. Kid's had a rough life.
I do love Arthur responding to Merlin presenting him with all his supplies ready - which he prepared without his magic mind you - with suspicion 😂
But then he calls Merlin a coward and it's sad
Katie has such a great voice. That entire thing in the cave from her taunting to her laughter to the spell, it just just beautifully played.
Whole ass battle to prepare for and Arthur is just walking around moping cuz Merlin isn't there
So, Merlin's father-vision telling him he's magic itself and he just needs to believe in himself to get his magic going again, does this mean he *didn't* need to go to the cave to get it back? Cuz it seems like he needed to recharge in the cave itself, his injuries were healed when he woke up. That seems like magic cave stuff to me.
Also that "always have been and always will be" - I'm taking to mean 'always have been' in the sense that since he's 'magic itself' even before he was born, his magic existed in other, intangible forms, like we are all stardust etc. But now that he is, he will always be, aka he will not die.
Arthur waking up with his wife in his arms and Merlin's name on his lips, jumping out of bed to act on dream-info.
Balinor telling Merlin to trust in what will be.... like bitch that is literally not how this ends.
5x13 The Diamond of the day pt 2
You know that gif of the cat knocking everything off the table? That's literally Merlin shooting lightning at everyone from his perch on the ridge.
I have a lot of snarky things to say about Merlin coming out of the cave in full Dragoon gear and riding a horse instead of teleporting like the other witches but I'ma keep that to myself.
Mordred is a bitch and Aithusa has terrible aim. At least Aithusa's loyalty to Morgana makes sense.
Arthur said oh shit I'm magic - oh wait no it's that old man again
He also straight up "No! Bad dragon!"-ed Aithusa
Y'know, for all I've watched this episode and screamed about Arthur's death, I don't think I've ever focused on the exact moment he gets stabbed before.
Mordred catches him from behind and he meets it, no fault there. But as soon as he realizes his assailant is the knight who turned on him and joined Morgana, what does he do? HE LOWERS HIS FUCKING SWORD
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He leaves himself wide fucking open and vulnerable and Mordred seizes the opportunity. I understand wanting the moment of recognition for Arthur, but on what planet is a trained warrior going to drop his sword mid-attack because he recognizes his attacker as a dude who only just recently decided to forsake him? It's soooooo dumb
There was a whole sequence a few episodes back where Mordred and Arthur are sparring, the point of it was to show that Mordred has become a skilled swordsman. So what exactly was the point in having Mordred run Arthur through as soon as Arthur idiotically lets his guard down? This should've been a meticulously choreographed sword fight, with Mordred getting the upper hand and sticking Arthur properly. Not this nonsense. Look at Arthur's FACE! Oh, Mordred... 👉👈 do you maybe wanna be friends again- STAB ... guess not
Uther's been rolling in his grave but he's taking an extra tumble watching Arthur forget all his skills and training in that moment.
I do appreciate Arthur getting Mordred back though. Like that moment of merciless anger followed by the hurt and regret playing on Arthur's face, warring with surety and responsibility. It was good.
I've rewatched the big confession scene about 16 times just now.
I don't quite understand why Merlin took Arthur to the woods to begin with. Instead of bringing him to the med tent in the battlefield or back to Camelot. What was the reason?
Merlin saying it feels strange (to use magic freely in front of Arthur) and him just going 'yeah' completely deadpan makes me laugh every time.
I really feel like Arthur's head should be elevated at a further incline if he's going to be fed.
Gaius refusing to outright expose Merlin as the sorcerer but nonetheless letting Gwen figure it out on her own warms my heart.
My God Arthur is sitting there dying, feeling betrayed about his best friend 'lying' to him, and still he can't stop himself from looking at Merlin's mouth.
Percival summoned MUSCLE POWER
Hey um random but why does Gwaine even know where Merlin and Arthur are headed? Why would Gaius tell him?
Arthur looks at Merlin so lovingly after he's killed Morgana 😭😭
And now he's literally grabbing at the man's hand 😭 "just hold me, please"
That's gotta be the gayest death scene in television history. If you can watch that without thinking Arthur puts his hand on the back of Merlin's head because some part of him wants to bring him down for a kiss, or that "just hold me, please" is in any way shape or form a 'bros' thing, and certainly not at all an intentional mirror/callback to Isolde dying in Tristan's arms, then I'm afraid you are what we professionals refer to as a dumb-as-nails fucknugget, more commonly phrased as 'willfully ignorant'.
"All that you have dreamt of building has come to pass" yeah except for the whole, y'know, magic still being illegal thing.
I've said this before, but, while I'm sure there was a determined intention to have Arthur die in his armor, probably in some kind of attempt to make sure the audience knows he's died a warrior's death, I *really* think it was kinda stupid that Merlin never removed it, despite Arthur being weak, despite the fact that there was something like five days between him getting stabbed and him actually dying, despite that for the duration of that time they were traveling or hiding out. Merlin managed to produce a cloak to put on Arthur, why did he need the full armor on that whole time? Like even if they left the chainmail on, those plates on his shoulder were just getting in the way, and it looked quite uncomfortable.
Also not for nothing but Lancelot got like, every flower in the forest surrounding lush verdant greens in his death boat, Arthur gets a bunch of sticks.
It suddenly occurs to me, watching this now, that the reason Leon/Percival is such a common side pairing in Merthur fics, is because these two motherfuckers are the only original Knights of the Round Table to survive the series. 🤦‍♀️ I dunno how I failed to notice that before now. My stupidity amazes me.
I'm *really* glad they decided to do this scene with Gwen wearing the Pendragon red dress instead of the black mourning dress. Yes she looks fabulous in it but it's more the symbolism than the 'reality' - with Gwen wearing her house's colors it represents a continuation rather than a finality. Camelot will go on, Gwen will undoubtedly end the war on magic and with Morgana dead (and frankly, I think by now she already brought about the death of all the angry incel type rulers in Albion) there stands to reason her reign will begin with a period of peace, possibly longer than Arthur's. We kind of have to assume that the 'time the poets speak of' is, inevitably, Gwen's reign - which only came about through Arthur's death. It's a little bit toooo subtle in my opinion, but at the same time, I understand the need for the focus on Merlin and Arthur - after all, this show was their journey - not leaving much time to focus on Gwen and Camelot in the aftermath of Arthur's death.
I will just say, the first time I watched this that fucking truck scared the ever living shit out of me. I also just immediately, viscerally hated that scene and declared it invalid - but I think it was because the truck made me jump out of my skin. It has since grown on me, particularly once I started reading 'Arthur Returns' fic.
Everything beyond this point is post-series spec and headcanon, so if that's not your jam you can exit safe in the knowledge that as usual, if there's anything worth commenting on in the S5 extras, I will create a separate post!
For those interested, my go-to post-series fic is We Begin Again by katherynefromphilly I fully headcanon this series as the continuation of the series.
I have a lot of thoughts about Gwen and Merlin post-Camlann.
For one, poor fucking Gwen. She's lost her father, her brother, and her husband, all by what, age 30? That's rough. And who knows what happened to her mom, that was pre-series and I don't think it was ever mentioned.
Merlin, dear god poor Merlin. First of all, I just wanna say straight off that my instinctive headcanon about Merlin was that he never returned to Camelot. I couldn't really say why exactly. I just don't think he could stand being there after Arthur's death. But practically speaking, Merlin's still got Aithusa to deal with, that dragon needs some godsdamned house training asap. He's still the last Dragonlord, it's reasonable to assume he'd immediately take that on considering Aithusa is partially responsible for Arthur's death (the sword Mordred killed Arthur with, only succeeded in killing Arthur because it had been forged in Aithusa's fire-breath) so he's either going to attempt to train the bad behaviors out of Aithusa, or...well...
The only thing is, I do not believe Merlin would abandon Gwen, or Gaius. So my hc is inherently flawed. I do think Merlin probably spend a couple months with his mum, and I do think he ultimately settled near lake Avalon waiting for Arthur's return.
But I do wonder, what must their relationship have been like? Gwen, surely, would've sought his guidance in establishing laws governing the use of magic. And surely, peace cannot last indefinitely, so Merlin absolutely would've defended Camelot and protected Gwen. There's just no way he could've completely turned his back on them, but I doubt he could bear living in Camelot. And Gwen is both strong and practical enough to get on without him there 24/7, even though I'm sure she'd miss him.
I also think she would've found love again. Whether with Leon, as many people hc, or someone else not in the series.
ANYWAY.
Thanks to everyone who came on this journey with me. I will post comments on the extras if I have anything worth saying - and I think I'll do a master post linking all these episode posts after I clean them up once I get time to sit at a computer and do so. Until then! 💙💚
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(Gif source) (h/t @shut-up-merlin)
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iwritethat · 5 years
Text
Jason Todd: German Shepherd
A/N: Dog Plan 2/?, how could I not write one for Jason???
>>>>———————————>
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He had issues. You were god damn sure of it.
Obviously you loved your treasured German Shepherd to pieces and you were 99% certain that Zeus would die for you but that does not mean he wasn't subject to experimentation before you adopted him as a puppy. It was Gotham, that theory was completely liable considering his peculiar sparkling emerald irises.
The dog had a biazzarre habit of sneaking out the fire escape on some nights but always made his return a couple of hours later ready to snuggle up with you. His scent was usually that of gunpowder and cigarettes - again, in Gotham most places smelt like that but you couldn't help but wonder what your partner got up to on his escapades. Regardless, you brought a collar engraved with your address as a precaution. Although once the adventurous canine disappeared for longer than 2 days you began to worry, he was basically your comrade who seemingly understood every word you said so when the door knocked at 3am you skidded over in your hoodie with hopeful eyes.
"Uh hey, I believe this belongs to y- Sun!" The mysterious stranger didn't manage to finish before Zeus hauled his oversized paws over your shoulders nuzzling his nose against your hair on his hind legs, it was a struggle to hold the massive bundle of fluff so much so that you staggered back a little before fussing him in return. A pulsation of shock sprinted through your veins upon recognising his company and the twin guns situated on his thighs but he did just return your dog...
"Thanks for bringing this giant doofus back, I see you've already gotten attached though." You observed expectantly, Zeus standing by your side to stare at the Red Hood who shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Old habit, I've encountered him quite a bit on the streets - at first he went by 'Dog' but eventually I named him Sun Tzu. Then he suddenly shows up with a collar around his neck but I'm glad he has a good home."
"Yeah, Zeus always struck me as a weirdo who apparently sneaks out to play vigilante sidekick but I always pick the odd ones I guess. And Sun Tzu... as in the Art of War?" The man did a double take, he didn't expect you to know who that was.
"He's actually quite useful out there. And that's the one, have you read it?"
"No, but I'd like to. I guess you've got to go save the city but thank you again Red Hood." You waved him off, Zeus with a bark and you'd thought that would be the end of it.
.
Of course it wasn't, Zeus would continue to disappear no doubt on the streets with his apparent 'partner' - they were a deranged reformation of Batman and Robin much to your amusement. Only now you awoke to find an Art of War hardback on your bed rather than a toy with Zeus franticly wagging his tail. Suspiciously, eyeing your dog as you did so, you opened the book to find a scruffy note inside.
'Hopefully Sun Zeus got this to you, thought you'd like it. - Red'
Oh God...
Once you'd read the book, you sat contemplating a reply on your piece of card since you had no paper at this particular time - Zeus laid beside your leg, head resting on your thigh with a bored expression.
'Thanks, it's an incredible book. I'm not sure if I can ask how you are but has the crime world been busy? Gotten any cool cases? I suppose I shouldn't ask that either, well it was a pleasure meeting you the other night and you seem pretty badass but thanks again for taking the time to return my boy. -(Y/n)'
You visually winced as your hands began mimicking your thoughts knowing you were binning this version, with a sigh you stood to find a new piece of card as you couldn't ask a stranger that - let alone the Red Hood. What were you supposed to say anyway? You returned to your couch, clear card inches from your canines nose - you had no idea where he'd obtained the piece but didn't complain, writing a new message before slipping into the book for Zeus to return.
'Thank you for the book, stay safe out in this hellhole. - (Y/n)'
It was no more than a few days until you received a reply neatly tucked into your joyful canines collar despite the torn edges.
'I thought people threw away discarded notes, not write on the back but I'm glad you did it. It's Gotham, of course it's been busy and 'cool cases'? No (Y/n), definitely not. The pleasure was all mine by the way. - Red'
.
The exchanges continued for quite some time, your dog acting as your very own personal messenger, occasionally you'd send over books or on one instance you'd received a bouquet of flowers, of course you'd sent some back to which your correspondent found amusing. Regretfully over the passing 3 months you'd only encountered him under a few circumstances, mostly brought together by the antics of your shared companion but none the less you grew rather fond of each other.
You’d conversed as he sat on your widow ledge after you’d practically forced him to drink a coffee before disappearing back into the depths of Gotham, listening to the latest tale he threw your way. Then you have ran into him and Zeus during a midnight shopping run, the two opting to walk you home that night. It was difficult not to grow close to the man when you see him at least twice a week as well as the letters he continued to write despite already exchanged numbers.
.
Tonight you'd ventured to Big Belly burger, opting for a takeout after an exhausting day but were not expecting the cashiers joyful reaction.
"Ah hello you beautiful boy!"
You gave her a sceptical glance, pausing at the counter before noticing her kind smile was actually directed toward your dog - who shouldn't be inside but alas chose to follow you in anyway.
Zeus wagged his tail at the familiar welcoming, the woman walking around the counter to pet him much to your confusion, you were hungry after all but due to the happiness both parties displayed you saw no harm in waiting 5 minutes more.
"Where's your handsome owner? Can't be far behind no?" A pink hue settled on her cheeks, whoever this supposed master was apparently captured her romantic interest, regardless Zeus moved to sit by your side, leaning against your leg before releasing a bark.
"Dork." You tutted, tousling his ear.
The woman politely smiled, seemingly understanding the gesture but you didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.
"Ah you brought his lovely partner with you today hm? Well now the flowers make sense, you are a lucky one, I didn’t think men like that existed. I'll prepare his usual and what would you like this evening?" Her cheery attitude returned as she began preparing your alleged lover's signature order much to your quiet protest. Suspicion overwhelmed you by wondering what other companions your dog had - Zeus trotted over to the exit as the bell rang signifying a person entering/leaving the diner.
"Hey Sun. You waiting for me or somethin'?" Immediately your eyes widened, the familiar nickname of your canine and the way he spoke making your heart race.
However you didn't want to make your presence known, having assumed the Red Hood wouldn't be dressed as such - not if the waitress was so flawed by him. Although credit due, he already had a stunning body in his vigilante attire...
This was the man your dog trusted every night - the one who wrote you letters and had a beautiful way with words. The one who had the waitress before you blushing like a school girl by his mere presence alone. With a careless sigh, you directed your attention to the two only stopping a few away - the scene bringing an admiring smirk to your face, the very attractive ravenette knelt before your companion both talking an fussing him like they were the best of friends, which you supposed they were after all of their adventures.
The male shot a quick glance to the person they were supposedly holding up, once recognising you he hesitated before standing and moving to speak. That is, before you cut him off.
"Don't worry babe, I got yours too. Sit and eat with me?" Your tone was casual as if you’d both done this many times before, like you hadn’t just laid eyes on him, yet it held an underlying demand as you held the paper bag out toward him.
It wasn't exactly a choice, regardless of how effortless fabricating a relationship was between the two of you. He immediately collaborated with your intentions, knowing that there must be a reason for you to act this way.
"Always doll, I've got some news for you anyway." He must've understood that you deducted who he was, and so guided you to the nearest table with Zeus following.
.
"So..." The man awkwardly started, unsure of how to go about the situation and truthfully neither did you but addressed the main question hanging in the air.
"Before you ask it was Zeus, no one calls him Sun except his partner in crime and there's also how happy he was to see you, I knew straight away."
"Hah, can't believe he betrayed me like this. But I'm kinda glad (Y/n), although was the pet name thing really necessary?" Was his reply as he began eating much like you had, the atmosphere became more casual with your shared amusement thanks to Zeus' previous antics.
"Firstly Red, you started it ages ago. Secondly, I don't know your real name and finally, the cashier thinks we're together thanks to our 'shared ownership' of Zeus. Rather disappointing actually, the lady does seem fond of you." Of course you'd defended yourself, the position you'd put yourselves in was somewhat embarrassing but all you think of at the time.
"All valid points I admit, and I've noticed but hey, if we're together I guess she can move on. And it's Jason by the way, Jason Todd."
"Jason... It's not how I expected to find out your identity but I'm not complaining, you've got good taste in fast food."
"Yeah, honestly this isn't how I'd imagined things to go either." He shook his head, shy smile on his face almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.
"How so?"
"I would've preferred to tell you that I'm a vigilante at least a few dates in, not the best starting point is it?"
"No but it’s definitely interesting. How about this be our first date and we can go from there? It's a proper thank you for bringing my fluffball back home." Zeus released an obnoxious whine at the nickname from his place on the floor beside the table where he'd chose to lie down as Jason laughed but agreed none the less.
"Since you've so kindly paid for this one (Y/n), the next date is on me."
"I've just found out you're a gun wielding crimelord - what makes you think there's going to be a next one?"
Upon hearing your playful tone Zeus immediately sat up, barked as if making an argument whilst wagging his tail and looking between the two of you proudly. Jason smirked, gesturing toward Zeus as he answered.
"He does."
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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 5 years
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Out Of The Woods (1/?)
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This multi chap fic has been one that I've wanted to write for a while. I'm hoping to connect a few loose ends, since my series is getting closer to the end. Don't worry, I still got a couple of fics left in me. I'd love to thank @xerxezra whose conversations with me are always inspirational. I'd also like to thank @dorkydisappointment whose writing got my creative juice flowing.
References to the woman in the journal is from What You Found Amongst The Pages.
In this fic the reader tries to uncover the mystery of the artist behind Zeta-7s portrait.
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Chapter 1: A Glimpse Of The Past
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For some time, Rick had been looking forward to taking you here; to the middle of nowhere, in the northwest, where enormous pine trees lined the roads, and evergreens could be found as far as the eye could see. Initially, you weren't sure what you were expecting. A Bob Ross worthy getaway perhaps? Maybe, though unlike the paintings done on PBS, there were gas stations and convenience stores which broke the harmony of trees, roads, and sky; as few and far between they were.
The drive itself was fantastic, and the surrounding area was nice, though you had little to no cell phone reception. And since you couldn't pass the time exploring the weird parts of Reddit, you stared out the window while Zeta-7 sang along to silly travel tunes; the kind that kids would enjoy, but we're actually music recommendations from Tall Morty; another good Rick. You giggled when he sang ‘He had high apple pie, in the sky hopes’, but he didn't seem to mind, he was excited.
However, you were curious as to why Google maps couldn't find the address to the place you two were going to, but Rick seemed to know the directions. Honestly, as long as it wasn't like anything you'd saw in Gravity Falls, then it was going to be fine.
____________
“W-we're here.”
Nope. This couldn't be right. Jumping out of the passenger's seat, you were taken aback and a bit creeped out by the amount of moose statues and decorations which surrounded the place as though to protect it. Could they be part of the security system perhaps? And if they were, was it generally safe to even be here?
“We are? Really?”
“Y-you bet.”
Before your thoughts ran away with the idea, you turned towards him. “Rick, do you need any help with the luggage?”
Opening a portal, he stepped through carrying all the luggage, then reappeared in front of you a few seconds later. “No, it's - I already took care if it.”
It was just like him to be one step ahead of you. How unfair. “Rick, I could've helped you know. I'd hate for you to hurt yourself.”
“True,” he admitted matter of factly. “but if I didn't do it, then I couldn't d-do this.”
To which he then took your hand and pressed a soft kiss on it. “I-I needed to make sure you had a warm hand t-to hold. It's cooler out here th-then it is back home. ”
You gave him a playful shove in return, which made him laugh wholeheartedly before he went on explaining the brief history of this place all the while giving your hand a light squeeze.
The moose lodge, as it was named, looked more like a tacky cabin at the edge of the woods instead of the forgotten shack amidst a family of trees. It was located almost two hours away from the nearest town, and the easiest way to get there was by taking a single dirt road right off the state road twenty miles back; both of you agreed that using his portal gun would've been more convenient. The house itself used to belong to an old colleague of his, but Rick bought it a few decades ago and used it when he wanted to get away from the city, and think about life and so forth; as well as paint. Walking up the steps, he commented, “I-I know it's not much,” unlocking the front door with a moose-shaped key. “but I hope y-you'll like it.”
You really didn't want to tell him that the place looked like a tourist trap, but he stood there, waiting for your approval, nibbling on his bottom lip.
Oh, you didn't like the overwhelming amount of moose decorations, but you smiled nonetheless. “I'm sure I will. I mean, I guess I didn't know what I was expecting, but at least it will be peaceful. Right?”
“Th-that's right.”
Whatever opinions you held about the exterior design, the interior was a different story. When he opened the door, your senses were invaded by the scent of old paint and aged wood, with hints of pine and decades-old smoke. Following right after him, you gasped at the sight of the walls; each inch of wall space covered with paintings. There were scenes and landscapes, hidden figures in the brush, creatures you couldn't begin to describe, flowers, trees, and anything which had and might still be alive; his own private art gallery. With a few clicks on his phone, the curtains opened up, allowing the light to chase away the shadows.
And when the light settled on a particular painting, you walked past him, towards the furthest wall, nearest to the master bedroom, where a large painting hung above the fireplace; it was a portrait of him, done in the romanticism style. “Oh my God. Rick, that's…. did you paint that? I can't believe it, it's amazing.”
“N-n-no, I didn't paint th-that one, but I-I wish I did.”
You found it hard to believe because it captured his essence so perfectly. It was of his form illuminated by the mid-afternoon light, kneeling next to a flowerbed, holding an unopened rose, kissing it gently as though to bless it. His hands were covered in dirt, and his loose fitted, round-collared shirt allowed for a few chest hairs to peek out. As always, when he was around his plants, he was in this trance-like, reverent state; the quintessence of his being; peaceful and alluring in the fact that he didn't seem so broken. The closer you stood to this work of art, the more you felt as though you were staring at a historical figure rather than a throwback photo of your boyfriend.
The posture featured you'd seen him do on multiple occasions, when he took a moment to meditate, appreciating the beauty of life, and all once, you were envious of the one who got to see him this way, taking their sweet time, appreciating the inner beauty of this soft, tender, but complex man. It also reminded you that Zeta-7 had been young once, and handsome even though he thought otherwise. Touching your shoulder lightly, he sighed. “I-I know. Time hasn't been kind t-t-to me.”
“What are you talking about? You look great, but I can't believe this is the first time I'm seeing this. It's gorgeous.”
“Gee, that's - th-thank you.”
“When was this done? You look so young there.”
“Hohoho, not - not that young. It um - it was painted a-about thirty years ago, by a very good friend of-of mine.”
A good friend? Rick didn't have many good friends. “Were they an artist?” you wondered.
Scratching the back of his neck, he avoided your gaze. “While she'd never claim t-t-to be, I thought she was. I um - why don't y-you make yourself comfortable while I make us s-something t-to eat.”
She? You had many other questions you wanted to ask, but knowing him and how he changed the subject, it seemed that that was the end of that; for now. “Okay,” you acquiesced, determined to bring it up at the first opportunity. “but can I pick any room I want?”
“Out of the two bedrooms? Sure g-go ahead.”
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After a simple dinner, you two went for a walk. There was a slight chill in the air, but thankfully you had a sweater and a warm hand to hold as you two followed the trail. You were glad to find that you were in better shape than you had anticipated, but that's what adventuring with a mad scientist will do. Here and there he found mushrooms which he took note of to return for later, and at some point, you climbed a tree, much to his disbelief, and teased him to come after you; he did, but you received a scolding which he then after profusely apologized for.
Later, after returning, you delighted in a warm bath and thought it would be a good time to unpack. Rick had disappeared somewhere around this time, which made you wonder if he had an underground lab here. Casually, you walked past the living room, with no intention of stopping but that larger than life painting caught your eye again. Unlike the other paintings along the walls, there was no artist signature. Hmm, what a tease the artist must've been.
In comparison, Rick hadn't changed very much over the years, except for the wrinkles of course and well his hair used to be darker. Still, you couldn't help but stare at that painting, envious of this old friend of his he had mentioned. Who was she? Was she beautiful? Did she love him too?
You thought more about it as you unpacked your stuff in the small bedroom next to the art room. It wasn't so far fetched to believe that he could've had his fair share of lovers, but then you had yet to see any feminine influences about his house except for a few treasured belongings of his mother. There was the woman from his journal, but he never brought it up and you had never confessed to having invaded his privacy, so you still weren't at liberty to do so. How was it that after all this time, there was still this bloom of mystery about him? Well, because he was humble and reserved, and only shared information which wouldn't hurt him.
Oh well. You'd have to get over it someday, but was it so wrong to be jealous of someone you never met?
TBC
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spittingspite · 3 years
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Shout out to me for reaching and finishing the scene that made me start writing this fic in the first place
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