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#i recognize that this is extremely self-indulgent
risingsunresistance · 2 years
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i rlly wanna get back to replaying mother 3 but i havent been able to force myself to start it back up since the news hit
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regressionworldz · 3 months
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I think it was about time I drew some CG!Aziraphale and Little!Crowley, I honestly can't get enough of them, especially since Crowley is clearly so baby coded, I can't wait for the next season!
On another note, I know you guys have been wanting me to provide headcanons on some of these characters, so I've decided to compile a small list for them! If you guys enjoy these headcanons, I'll try doing more for other characters.
GOOD OMENS AGERE HEADCANONS!
Aziraphale discovered that Crowley had been a regressor in the last 100, perhaps 200 years, around the 1800s era. Prior to that period, Crowley had been a regressor but kept it a secret, showing little concern for himself.
He unintentionally regressed and faced significant challenges in reclaiming his former self. Aziraphale likely perceived it as a panic attack, a common occurrence for Crowley and a factor that increased the likelihood of his regression.
He becomes extremely sensitive to pain during regression, yet he makes an effort to conceal it. Even a minor injury like pricking his finger prompts tears and shakiness, but he refrains from admitting the pain. This sensitivity stems from the trauma of the angelic fall, where angels experience pain for the first time, and the impact of the descent can leave their bodies broken for hours or even days. While Crowley may have felt pain as a human, the fall marked the first instance he truly felt vulnerable and weak.
Snakes have limited color vision, primarily perceiving shades of blue and green (though there might be some variation). Recognizing this, Aziraphale purchases and knits toys for Crowley within that specific color range.
During regression, Crowley opts for a more concise term, referring to Aziraphale simply as 'angel.' Occasionally, he might use 'papa,' though it occurs less frequently.
When Crowley is happy, he engages in vocal stims, emitting squeals or spontaneous, joyful noises.
Crowley holds a preference for snakes as his favorite animal, yet he appreciates any plushie he receives, with a particular fondness for sheep and goats.
Crowley typically sheds tears either upon waking up or at the onset of regression. Throughout the rest of the time, he makes an effort to suppress his tears. When upset, he opts for deep breaths as a coping mechanism, consciously avoiding crying. However, this emotional suppression can lead to him becoming worked up.
While regressed, Aziraphale assists Crowley in tending to his plants. However, later on, Crowley becomes frustrated with himself for being kind to his plants, expressing displeasure with the unexpected benevolence.
During Crowley's regression, Aziraphale is inclined to prepare warm meals for him. Although Crowley doesn't eat often, he readily indulges in meals provided by Aziraphale.
Crowley has a star mobile above his crib that Aziraphale added, allowing him to gaze at the stars, a simple joy that consistently brings him happiness.
Hope you guys enjoyed some of these papa azi and little crowley headcanons!
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beemosketches · 4 months
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Founders Week, Day 2: Cultural Difference | Fire & Forest | A Sign of Loyalty
(the perception of lacking loyalty)
@foundersweek
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Late to Day 2, but I forgive myself because this was a lot of panels.
Featuring!! An EXTREMELY self-indulgent AU, there are so many headcanons going on in this comic, it'll have to be a separate reblog
The basics of the AU: peaceful, everyone lives and is happy because I need more fluff in my life, and also TobiIzu
Imaginary bonus points to you if you recognize the rookie
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moralesluvr · 9 months
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Hii. So I had this idea where it’s (e-1610) miles saving Reader from something and when he finally looks at her he immediately becomes attracted towards her (like love a first sight thing) and gets all shy and cute
love at first sight ft. miles morales
♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!black!reader, college au, cafe au. ♡ summary: after getting hit on after walking home from work, your friendly neighborhood spiderman is here to save you-- and he‘s stunned when he sees you. ♡ warnings: none jus fluff! ♡ a/n: this is so extremely self indulgent because i wear glasses and i was just visualizing this the whole time LOLLL ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡
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YOUR SAGE-TINTED FINGERNAILS PINCH around the soft material of your apron, a broken sigh tumbling off of your reddened lips as you placed it on the coat rack in the back of your workplace. Another huff leaves you, this time of relief, eyes darting to the clock that resides on the wall. It reads, it digital numerals, '10:22.'
You should've closed twenty minutes ago, but of course, some of your avid regulars insisted that they needed a coffee or slide of banana bread right as you had grabbed the broom from the back, ready to shut the cafe down. But you couldn't complain because you were at least happy that you had the next couple of days off, so you let your worries roll off of your t-shirt clad shoulders, grabbing your purse and keys from your work cubbie and switching off the lights.
Keys jingling as you step outside, you stick a golden one into the hole that's below the door's handle, locking it and beginning your walk down the street.
A shiver courses through your veins, your body not quite adjusted to the sweet, yet wintry cold that summoned goosebumps on your bare forearms. You hugged yourself and tucked the sides of your coat in, throwing your Coach bag over your shoulders as the pretty lights of Brooklyn advocated for your lack of vision.
The cafe that you worked at was the only place you could earn money and also enjoy. Your boss was one the upperclassmen that you knew from your university, which really helped because she always gave you days off and flexible work hours. All your co-workers were just close friends or classmates-- plus, you loved to bake, so it really was a genuine place of interest.
You're humming one of your favorite songs down the block when you reach a strip of shops. There's a pub nearby and you always hold your breath when you pass it-- because it's not so much a bar, but more of a place where teenagers hang out and smoke or drink ill-tasting beer. Usually you're safe passing through, but that wasn't necessarily the case tonight.
A boy that you recognize from your university stumbles out of the place, eyes reddened and droopy as he stopped you in your tracks. He smirked at you, "Why're you walkin' all by yourself? Need some company?"
Pushing a curl back behind your ear, he beams a smile at you, one that makes your stomach feel uneasy as you slowly moved his hand back down to his side.
"No, Aaron, I don't. I...have a boyfriend." You lied through your teeth. You definitely didn't, but you needed a valid excuse as to why you didn't want this creep taking you home.
"I think you do need some company, though, pretty thing." He insists, pushing himself closer to you, a laugh sounding from his throat. "I don't see your boyfriend. What kind of man would leave his girl alone at night, walking down the streets of New York?" His hands find home on your waist and you let out a squeal, "Stop!"
Although it's no use. He continues, trying to learn into your lips as you fight his tight embrace. But he's stronger, and you genuinely think that you're a goner until a tall figure in a-
Spider-Man?
He comes literally out of nowhere, standing in front of Aaron as he grabbed both of his arms, removing his grip on you. The masked vigilante twists his hands behind his back and he screams, biting his lip, "This your pathetic boyfriend, huh? Some idiot playing around in a mask?"
Spider-Man says nothing to that, except he just shoots a web at Aaron's hands, pinning them behind his back. He then flips him around and webs his mouth, moving closer to him. He whispers against his skin, "Shut up."
Aaron's eventually pinned to the brickwork of the pub's walls, when Spider-Man finally turns to look at you. You're smiling, even though anxiety is still pumping through your blood, "Thank you, Spider...Spider-man?"
He just stares at you.
You're so pretty, curls tucked back in a ponytail with some loose ones hanging against your dark glasses frames. You're clad in a leather jacket and a pair of ankle-high boots, a pretty skirt resting on your thighs. The moonlight glows against your brown skin, and he finds his mouth dry because it's wide open.
You cock an eyebrow at him, "Spider-Man? Are you okay?"
And although he longs to say something, to get the words out, he can't help but give you one last glance as he finds himself webbing to a wall, swinging away without saying a word.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!
𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses
𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓��𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022 // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @evacowan // @popeheywardssecretgf // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae // @luci1fer
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hausofneptune · 3 months
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[the astrology of megan thee stallion] - "tryin' hard to find a flaw, but you still watchin'" | astro notes 001
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hey y'all! i'm finally getting around to doing some astro notes. in this post we'll be going through some signficant aspects/placements in megan's chart. i've noticed a lot of astro content on here centers for and around white cis women, and quite frankly i'm over it. if i see one more gif of megan fox, angelina jolie, or [insert random white woman here] i'm going to lose my damn mind. so here's some seasoning and flavor for the girls!
disclaimers | masterlist | ask
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– "body bangin', i ain't have to let the doctor cut me"
taurus ascendant (chart ruler: venus in capricorn)
being a taurus rising, megan’s appearance, and approach to life, may be very venusian in nature. those with prominent taurean energy in their chart are ruled by their senses and tend to be drawn to life's finest luxuries
these are definitely the type of people to indulge in fine dining, travel to exotic countries or big cities, drink the finest wine and champagne, wear high-end fashion etc., they may also prioritize self care and could be the types that keep up with their skincare, always smell good, and keep their hair and nails done at all times (this could also manifest in the opposite way as taurean energy can be “lazy” at times, but we know with meg that this isn’t the case)
physically, they can be on the curvier or more muscular side, and tend to have darker hair, eyes, and skin, i've also noticed taureans tend to have prominent noses and more round/softer features
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they prioritize their comfort and stability over everything, and enjoy being surrounded by people that make them feel safe and secure
their homes tend to be their sanctuaries, and they may want their surroundings to be comfy and “aesthetically pleasing” 
meg’s ascendant is also trine her venus (1°04’), which physically adds to her sultry sex appeal, and also gives her that regal, “vintage beauty” look
asc trine ven. can also influence one’s sociability and popularity, despite whatever insecurities they may have, people tend to be able to see the good in these natives, and recognize their humble, loving spirit, they typically make friends and fall in love very easily
on the other hand, asc. trine ven. can also make them a target for vitriol and biased demonization from others who feel “attacked” by their empowerment and strength
moon in leo / mars in leo in the 4H
this can ignite someone with a hot, fiery confidence, these natives typically have a creative outlet they’re passionate about that they can express this energy through, and feel comfortable being the center of attention and enjoy entertaining their friends and family
they can be oblivious at times, and act too quickly on emotions regardless on the impact it will have - it may be more important for them to “get something off their chest” instead of having tact or being strategic
they may be extremely competitive, and refuse to let obstacles to get in their way, they’re extremely determined and rarely do they accept defeat
they can be prone to stubbornness in some cases, and more often than not, can struggle with asking for help, they tend to feel as though they have to fight their battles alone and typically don’t expect others to advocate for them
similar to aries, they tend to wear their hearts on their sleeve when it comes to their feelings, a trait those around them can grow to appreciate and love them for over time
they're usually less likely to get married and instead prioritize their foundation first and foremost, they're extremely dedicated to the security of safety of the home and life they build for themselves
regardless, they’re extremely loyal and generous to their partners, and take great pride not only in their relationships, but in everything they pursue and put out into the world as well
ruler of the ascendant (venus) in the 9H
this can manifest as being called to expand one's horizons, both intellectually and culturally. megan’s identity and life path could potentially center around traveling, experiencing different cultures, and pursuing higher academic learning
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this aspect can explain megan's interests in completing college even after becoming famous, and pursuing philanthropic endeavors (i.e. the Pete & Thomas Foundation, badbitcheshavebaddaystoo.com, etc.)
there may also be a strong inclination towards religion or spirituality, and a natural understanding of certain philosophies and recognizing the role that they play within the their lives 
they can have a natural inclination towards being hopeful and optimistic, and may bode well as teachers, mentors, or motivational speakers
with venus’ influence, they may find the most peace and harmony in living abroad and hearing the lived experiences from people of different ethnicities and cultures
this is can also manifest as being attracted to people of foreign cultures, or feeling the most fulfilled in relationships with a partner that they can connect with on a cerebral level, and feel as though their love has a “higher purpose” to serve in their lives
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– “breaking down and i had the whole world watching, but the worst part is really who watched me? every night i cried, i almost died and nobody close tried to stop me”
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sun square pluto (3°58’) / moon square pluto (1°33’)
these aspects can be indicative of feeling like one always needs to be in control of every situation they’re in, and of those around them
at it's worst, this can manifest as stubbornness or manipulative behavior from the native. they may struggle with constantly feeling on edge, or operating on offense, as they’re inclined to believe everyone is out to get them
these are also aspects that can manifest in extreme cases as parental loss, as the sun represents the father and the moon represents the mother. in megan’s case, her father passed away when she was young, and her mother, Holly, passed away in 2019
moon square pluto can also be indicative of addiction and escapism in some cases, in the context of megan’s life, she found herself dependent on alcohol and partying for a period of time after her mother’s passing
rebirth is not only a constant for these natives, but a necessity, as these periods of metamorphosis, no matter how painful, show them the parts of themselves that they need to let go and evolve beyond. they may encounter death, both literally and metaphorically, more often than the average person, and typically benefit from prioritizing self care in their routines, as well as therapy and counseling
they have the opportunity to channel the intense energy of these aspects into their careers, and typically benefit greatly from doing so, as this grants them an extremely ambitious, competitive nature that sees them into positions of power and authority
– “i ain’t sayin’ i do voodoo but i got the magic, any time they go against me, shit gon’ end up tragic”
jupiter in the 8H
with this aspect, the native may find abundance in inheritance or financially benefit from working with business partners, and overall encounter a great amount of wealth granted to them by other people
this can also indicate someone with an “insatiable” sexual appetite, or a hyperactive libido
they may be drawn to exploring and expanding their understanding of the more “taboo” sides to life, or enjoy exploring the subconscious sides of both themselves and those around them, they would benefit from tapping into their own spirituality and practicing meditation
this can also imply longevity in regards to their life span, and in more extreme cases, can indicate being “saved” from near-death experiences, in the context of megan’s life, she was shot by a man who was belligerent drunk, and luckily only ended up with bullet fragments in her feet
descendant in scorpio / pluto in the 7H
with these placements, these natives may find themselves drawn to people who stimulate them on a subconscious level, and may crave a deeper, more spiritual connection with those around them
this can also manifest as attracting people into their lives that they encounter power struggles with, they may find themselves either behaving possessively or having people behave this way towards them
their relationships may be prone to trust issues and general toxicity (or abuse in extreme cases), they should be wary of partners (and friends) who exhibit controlling, jealous tendencies towards them, and should avoid partaking in this type of behavior themselves 
saturn in pisces in the 11H
while pisces can ease the restrictive nature of saturn, this can also manifest as a general lack of boundaries, and leads to a lifelong lesson of instilling their own boundaries and remaining cognizant and receptive to the boundaries and feelings of those around them
this can also indicate a compassionate, spiritual nature, and it may take time and effort to find practical ways to express their kindness in a way that is rewarding for both them and others
with saturn in pisces placed in the 11H, this can indicate challenges in relation to their inner circle and network. these natives could suffer from trust issues, and are typically desperate for a deep connection to others, all the while feeling isolated and misunderstood more often than not by the people they surround themselves with
we can see this manifest in megan’s life in terms of the company she’s kept over the years, we’ve seen her fall out with long-term friends and be betrayed in extremely traumatic ways, which is clearly indicative of this placement. she recently went through her saturn return, and it does seem like (from the outside looking in) she’s prioritizing her boundaries and recognizing that not everyone is her friend or has her best interest at heart, something that her mother desperately wanted her to understand before she passed away
on the bright side, saturn aspects become an area of expertise for those who eventually internalize the lesson that saturn is instilling in them, in the context of saturn in pisces, this can birth long-term, emotionally fulfilling friendships and relationships with those around them in the long run, these natives can become extremely loyal to their loved ones and eventually find friends that extend the same level of love and trust to them 
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as always if anyone has any of the aspects/placements i'd love to hear how it manifests in your own life and personality! feel free to reach out with any questions as well.
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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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wriothesleysgf · 1 year
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˚ ⊹ ₊˚ stay soft — eren jaeger + reader
minors dni with my blog · extremely self indulgent comfort, implied non verbal reader, signs of depressed reader, modern au.
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as soon as eren entered your shared apartment, he knew that something was off. usually you'd be the one to call out to him, running into his arms to greet him if you weren't already preoccupied with something. instead he was the one to call you. the sniffled response sounded like it was coming from the living room, thus that's where his feet took him.
the sight made his usually cold heart split into two. you were curled up in the corner of the couch, lights dimmed and a disney movie playing on the tv. he recognized that not only were you wearing his hoodie (with the hood pulled over your head), but also that you had a death grip on what seemed to be his pillow and the plushie that he'd won for you on your second date.
"baby, 's everything okay?" he spoke softly, kicking his shoes off before slowly making his way over to you. he squatted down in order to be level with you, lifting a hand to push away stray hairs and carress your cheek.
you didn't really know how to respond, nor how to adequately explain what exactly was the matter. all you managed to do was sniffle again, blinking rapidly to push back the tears that threatened to spill.
"oh, princess," eren moved to sit next to you, encouraging you to crawl into his lap. you did precisely that, allowing him to put down your hood so that he could see your pretty face. "it's okay, 'm here now," he cooed. though you had abandoned his pillow, your hands still remained tight around your plushie as you buried your face in eren's chest.
"you don't have to say anything, baby, it's okay," he repeated, wrapping his arms around you. the man could sit like this for however long was necessary, whispering gentle words of encouragement and adoration.
when you finally peeked up at him, his smile was so genuine, and you could see the concern in his eyes. "you hungry, sweets?" he asked, "c'n order food, your choice,"
though you only nodded in response, the small smile that broke out on your previously despondent features reassured him a little that you were okay. not wanting to push you back into the state that he'd found you in, he reached into his back pocket and handed you his phone.
"do you want to have a shower with me, princess? 'll even put my sweater on the heater so it's nice and warm for you afterwards," he offered, knowing that when you got like this you struggled to take care of your most basic needs. "you can order first, nd then when we're done it will arrive, m'kay?"
you nodded again, tilting you head up to kiss eren's jaw as a wordless way of showing your gratitude. you then poked your hand out from your sleeve, placing it on the left side of his chest and tapping right where you knew his heart to be.
with a kiss to your forehead, he kept his reply short: "i love you too, darlin',"
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astarionslittletreat · 3 months
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Eat You Alive
Gortash x female Durge/Dark Urge
Rating: Explicit
You must be 18 years or older to interact with this post in any way
Word Count: 1k
Tags: smut, sex, piv sex, over-stimulation, bleeding, blood, biting, bondage, domination, threats of violence, threats of murder, sadism, masochism, unhealthy relationship, established relationship, dub-con, unethical use of magic, cock warming, forced orgasm
Author's Note: This is not meant to depict how a relationship should function in any way. Neither character posses any redeeming qualities or are meant to be idolized. This is a work of indulgent fiction. Please read the tags before proceeding.
Summary: She's returned to him, his Bhaalspawn. After vanishing from him without a trace, he's got her exactly where he wants her. Tied up and waiting for him with murderous lust.
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Wrists and ankles shackled by purple translucent magic, the Bhaalspawn strains against the spell holding her down. Muscles tensing, she flexes her arms, tries to kick her spread legs but to no avail. She cannot break free. It’s not explicitly uncomfortable. She’s naked, true, exposed to the dark room and her surroundings, but the silk sheets she retrained on have been freshly laundered. The spell curling around her extremities is warm and radiates the feeling of pure magic that sends shivers down her spine as she tries to pull away. She’s of two minds at the moment. The Dark Urge that usually slumbers like a dragon in the back of her mind is wide awake–demanding to be freed. Ordering that they be let go this instant and repaid in blood and flesh and bone. The other part of her mind, her true self, her weak self, nearly lost. Drowning in the madness of her carnality. Aching, wanting, dripping for her lover to touch her. To unburden her of her desires–every single last one of them.
“You’re fucking gorgeous like that–” Lord Enver Gortash’s dark eyes grow hungry as he watches his Bhaalspwan arch her back in a futile attempt to break free. “Spread out like a good girl who just wants to be eaten.” He purrs. Taunting her until she’s so filled with rage, Enver can feel it radiating off her bare skin. “Look at me.” It’s a command tinged with magic, and the Bhaal babe meets his gaze. For the briefest–shortest moment her eyes go soft. It’s so quick, he would have missed it if he hadn’t been staring directly at her because it instantly vanishes.  Consumed by the fire burning through her veins. Her murderous rampage simmering in the pit of her stomach. Enver’s cock throbs at the sight of his dark and demented love.
Her eyes dart back and forth across his bedchambers. A feral animal caught in a trap. Searching for a way to get out. To get to him. Restrained as she is, the Bhaalspawn flinches as Enver traces the scars on the inside of her thighs with his fingertips. Some he recognizes, some are new, requiring him to catalog her body once more. She trembles at his touch with a rage and bloodlust that makes Enver grow hard. His cock swells as he palms himself. Stroking just enough to take the edge off as he lowers himself to the bed. Drawn in by her tender fury he moves to worship his lover. To take her into his mouth and press his lips against every new scar she acquired without him by her side.
A sinful mix of Infernal–and possibly Abyssal, if Enver heard correctly, falls from the lips of the Bhaalspawn. Spit like venom. Sung like hymns. “That’s right my love,” Enver praises the words he doesn’t fully understand, but knows all the same. He knows exactly what his love needs before biting down, hard. Blood blooms over Enver’s tongue and the Dark Urge moans in delight.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” She threatens beautifully. Spitting and hissing in the common tongue for Ever to understand.
He chuckles, “I sincerely hope so, my love.” He had thought himself dead once already. He certainly hadn’t been alive these past few months at the very least. Not when she had disappeared. Gone, without word. Without trace. Without any explanation that was due to him. Of course, he knows now what happened, but the bitter sting of life without what made Enver whole had scarred him. Changed him. A piece of himself vanished when his love disappeared. Abandoning their well-laid plans, the city–him. The fury and indignity at being left behind after so long never quite left. Orin’s death helped, true, but this– this is so much sweeter.
“I’m going to break every bone in your worthless body before I filet you alive!” Spit coats her lips as the Dark Urge screams, and her body fails in painful delight. More–she wants more. She needs Enver now instead of him taking his sweet fucking time.
Evner doesn’t spare her the prep time. She doesn’t need it, doesn’t deserve it. Between her scarred and bleeding thighs, Enver presses the head of his cock to her entrance before pressing in in one long stroke. Settling himself until he’s fully seated inside his love. Oh how he’s fucking missed this. Her mewling gasps of his name. The drool sliding past her lips. The way she tightens, squeezing him as he presses his thumb to her clit. Circling and toying with her. Forcing her into a breakneck speed while he sits there. He spits on her clit for good measure. There will be time for pain later. Right now, the only thing he desires is to feel the Bhaalspawn breaking apart around him.
“Wait!” Panic. “Stop, I can’t–”
“You’re going to fucking come, now.”
Another command, bold but dangerously quiet. Tinged with venom and love. She doesn’t need a spell to obey this time. His familiar heavy weight, his clever hands working her body better than her own self knew how. It was inescapable. Her release surges through her body as she clamps down hard. Her body strains against the magic holding her down, her muscles taught and aching as she tumbles recklessly through the pleasure forced upon her. It hurts. It hurts and she likes that it hurts. That it’s messy and quick. That her legs are weak and she can feel wetness seeping out of her cunt where Enver is still seated and hard. She gasps. Gulping down air as she falls from her high. Her mind floats. The Dark Urge temporarily calmed like a wild beast to music.
Enver allows her a few seconds respite. She had earned that much at least. But the night was young, and he still missed his deadly little Bhaalspawn. He waited until her gasping died down just a bit before he began to circle and toy with her now oversensitive clit. “Another, my pet.”
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inbarfink · 6 months
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I already talked about, like, the Obvious Symbolism of Simon reaching his lowest point literally dressed like the Ice King and then gradually gets back to his old outfit as he starts climbing out of his depressive spiral, at least somewhat.
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But it’s also really interesting, maybe even more interesting, how Fionna’s outfit has been gradually shifting and changing with basically every adventure.
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My first thought was that it really shows Fionna coming into her own as a character. The more she grows and also the more character development she gets - the more the audience learns to see her as more than just Girl Finn - the more her outfit moves away from just being a slightly girlier version of Finn’s classic look and into being its own thing. 
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Because Fionna is her own character. 
But my second thought was more about the first time Fionna’s classic outfit got an update in this series.
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This wouldn’t really relate to my first reading, since it just kinda makes her outfit closer to Finn. But it does relate to the most important Theme that her character arc revolves around - Fantasy versus Reality.
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Fionna starts out the story interacting with the idea of magical adventure and heroism via the lens of fantasy. She compares everything to video games and just thinks about everything in terms of it being cool and fun and she literally tries to chase down a person from her dreams.
And her mindset was probably only reinforced by discovering she was literally created to be the Main Character in God’s little fantasy universe literally created out of self-indulgence for his silly little stories.
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And because of that, she starts out the story with a huge Protagonist-Centered-Morality blind spot where she can’t recognize when she and Cake are in the wrong
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And she rushes into action and violence just thinking it’s ‘cool’
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And, like, in general acting without thinking of the consequences.
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And at basically every step of this adventure, these kinda actions clashed against the reality of her situation. And it all started when she pointed out to her own creator that the outfit he designed for her is cute - but extremely unrealistic for an adventurer like herself
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And from there we move to Fionna experiencing more and more of the harsh consequences of assuming everything should fit into her fantasies of heroes and villains 
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And that she should punch first and ask questions later 
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And in general that it’s always better to trust her guts over her head. 
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And with every one of her experiences, the bright and adorable outfit that is a reminder of her origin as God’s Most Self-Indulgent OC gets tweaked in more way - turning it into something that looks a lot more, for the lack of a better word, gritty. And also turning it further and further away from the outfit of her own literal fantasies.
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And all of these horrible traumatic experiences and the general dangers of the magical and very different world she’s in have all weathered down Fionna’s original optimism and eagerness and brashness that originally defined her and turned her terribly overprotective and scared instead. And it really reminds of how Simon’s own trauma weathered him down. 
Turning him from a kind man with a passion for adventure and the fantastical and a powerful parental instinct to a miserable jerk who aches for mundanity and made a little girl cry
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Until he got to his very lowest point.
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So I’m guessing next up for Fionna is getting to see her regain some of her old identity that the Trauma has been tearing away at - getting back some of that cheerfulness and brash attitude and adventurous spirit. Because while it has put herself and her teammates and others in serious troubles - it’s also been a huge help at other times (especially as she's a good counterbalance to Simon ‘slow but dependable’ Petrikov)
She needs to find the balance, learning the lessons from her multiverse adventure without losing all the things that made her Fionna Campbell in the first place.
And I wonder if this development is gonna be paralleled with a return of some of the more ‘classic’ elements of her look - or if her outfit is instead going to diverge farther?
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deartouya · 1 year
Text
TIME OF YEAR — HAWKS
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summary: the week following valentine's day, you start getting a gift a day. they're always sitting on your desk when you get in, never attached to any note, and always something that you'd like. then a certain pro-hero shows up at your door brandishing a bouquet.
pairing: hawks x gn!reader
wordcount: 1.4k
content: reader works in miruko's agency, fluff, stocked full of (very american) valentine's fluff and cliches, gift giving as a weird confession, best friend bakugou bc i can't help myself, mentions of food/eating.
happy valentine's day lovies !!! i barely finished this in time but ;-; it's done !! and i had to write something for keigo bc i love him dearly ;-; i hope you enjoy my self indulgence even if it's not my best work !
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Working for Miruko's agency has been surprisingly mundane for a top hero agency. Spending your day filing reports and attempting to lessen the load of paperwork for her and the dozens of sidekicks she worked with. You'd grown fond of the routine, comfortable with your daily cafe runs and lunches spent working at your desk. It was nice, normal.
The past week has been weird, though.
It started with a rose. Soft and creamy maroon petals left in the center of your desk without a note or any hint of who had left it. You thought it'd been a mistake, someone mistaking your office for someone else's, but no one in the entire office building recognized or claimed it. So you found a dusty flower vase under your sink and kept it on the corner of your desk.
Next were blueberry muffins. You recognized the little white box from your favorite bakery the moment you saw it, the one nestled in a corner of the city which is almost always empty. Buttery and still warm when you finally willed yourself to open it. You couldn't help the warmth which filled your chest at the smell of them and you ate two of them for breakfast before starting your paperwork.
The rest of the week was filled with more gifts, all practical or catered perfectly to your own tastes; a pair of cashmere gloves a muted gray, a coffee from your favorite cafe just the way you ordered it, a shiny broach in the shape of two doves, a travel coffee mug not too much after your own finally worn out. Nothing that hinted at whoever's been leaving them for you.
 "Come on, Katsuki," you lament, folding yourself pathetically over your desk, "you're always at the office--you have to have seen them come to my office! And you're the only one who knows I go to that bakery every morning, you have to know!" He snorts, barely looking up from his own stack of reports to see the considerably large box of heart-shaped chocolates. The rich, fancy kind that if you ever had a craving for you would've had to save half your paychecks.
His eyes seem to get stuck on the ribbon holding it shut, on the sliver of something soft and red poking out. You pluck it out, expecting a sticky note or card--anything but a feather the size of your index finger.
"Is this supposed to be a hint?" Katsuki only stares blankly at you, something akin to amusement warming the red of his eyes as your annoyance mounts, "do they have a pet bird? I don't think I know anyone with a parrot--except for that one guy from tech but his is blue."
Katsuki rolls his eyes, dropping his pen and shoving his chair away from his desk, “and why would he leave a hint? If he wanted you to know who he was he wouldla left a fuckin’ note on one of of ‘em.”
“I don’t know! I’m tired of not knowing,” you collapse back into your chair to stare forlornly at the ceiling, “no one in the building will admit to leaving them and we both know that they’re awful liars.” You’d tracked down nearly everyone who worked on your floor to ask about the gifts, even cornering an extremely nervous Midoriya in the elevator on your way home. None of them admitted to it. And none of them paid nearly enough attention to know where you bought your muffins or coffees from. 
“You’re overthinking.” 
You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as Katsuki returned to his paperwork. “I just don’t know who’s doing it, no one’s seemed nervous around me and I haven’t gone on a date in months.”
“Might make you less stressed,” Katsuki snips, a flash of canines when you chuck your now emptied coffee cup at his head—which he blocks easily with a laugh. 
“I’m serious, Katsuki. I’ve never had someone all that interested in me—let alone this interested. I just want to figure out who it is.”
He softens just a little, sighing and dropping the empty cup in the bin beside him. You know you’re being childish, pestering him all week over something as trivial as a potential secret admirer when you both have stacks of paperwork and endless reports.
“I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” That look’s back, something passing slowly over his face—like he’s considering his words carefully, hiding what he knows, “Valentine's day’s tomorrow—maybe he’ll show up then.”
You don’t notice anything weird until you get to your office. Oblivious with the expectant stares of your co-workers, the raptness in which they watch you hurry to your office, the way they all look at eachother. Until you’re confronted with an incredibly familiar and out of place set of eyes, “Hawks!”
He starts at the sound of your voice despite facing the door, fingers tightening around a bouquet of budding peonies and wings ruffled and restless behind him. He looks out of place in your office—large and imposing, standing awkwardly in front of your desk and feathers twitching behind him.
Pictures could never do Hawks justice. He’s always prettier, brighter—the warmth of his hair and the flush of freckles across his nose—in person. He’s larger than life, all wide smiles and crimson wings, and no amount of photographers can capture all of him as he is. Breathtaking. But now, he looks nearly skittish.
Hawks smiles at you then—nervous and disarmingly ill-practiced for someone whose job is half made up of practiced smiles—and brings the bouquet just a little closer to his chest. “I saw these while I was on patrol… it’s that time of year, isn’t it?” His voice is quiet, something soft and tender that makes you feel warm all over.
Everything hits you very suddenly—the feather, the knowing way Katsuki had behaved when questioned, every pricey gift that had been left. Hawks visited the agency all the time, visited you in your office and had taken you for coffee at the very cafe your gift came from. He’d also put the final nail in your travel mug’s coffin, knocking it off the edge of your desk the last time he’d visited you with a teasing feather. Of course it’d been him.
“You left the gifts. You’re my secret admirer,” you say dumbly, sounding quiet and childish even to yourself. 
But Hawks flushes, chin tucking into the plushness of his collar and failing to hide his wide and boyish grin, “I did—I am.” His hand—noticeably bare and warm—cups your own, transferring the bouquet of soft pinks and reds to you. “And these made me think of you when I saw them in the shop—you said peonies were your favorites.”
You flounder under the weight of his grin, the sweetness of flowers, the heady smell of his cologne, and the crispness of wind which always surrounds him. You’ve never been this close to him, always had a buffer in the form of mutual friend or coworker to soften the interaction. It’s overwhelming to be this close knowing he likes you. Knowing he pays such attention to you.
A swell of emotions overtakes you, grin so wide it aches and his own seems to mirror it. Hawks is warm, a slow gentle heat which seeps into you and melts against your skin from where his hands are skating up your arms. It’s dizzying and you find yourself leaning into him, overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him, to be even closer, to curl your hands into the softness of his collar and pull him into you.
But you don’t.
His wings twitch again behind him again, restless ruffling as he lifts a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. You track the movement with a smile—it’s oddly endearing to see him acting so human, so unlike everything you’re used to seeing of him. “Do you want to get dinner after patrol?” Golden eyes flick over your face, as if looking for any hesitance—discomfort. He doesn’t find any. “There’s this really good yakitori place down the street.”
“Sounds like a date, Kei.” His smile’s immediate, blindingly bright and so wide the corners of his eyes wrinkle.
“A date,” he echoes giddily, face flushed and smile half-concealed behind his hand.
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babaukulele · 1 year
Text
Panic
Hawks almost faces his greatest fear, thank goodness your there to help him come back down to earth.
CW: anxiety, light disassociation, comfy happy ending. Hawks thinks he didn't save you in time. 
A/N this is an extremely self indulgent fic. Dissociation has been a long time  struggle for me and I sometimes project onto my comfort characters to see it from the outside and think about what would help. If you have similar struggles this is one of many methods that's helped me in the past. I can make a more detailed list of techniques later if could help anyone. 
Angst to fluff my darlings, not very proof read i’m sorry
1050 words.
He could feel his heartbeat racing. His body couldn't move although his mind continued to race. People were sprinting around and yelling. One of the sidekicks shook him by the sleeve, she could see the barely concealed panic in his golden eyes, his pupils thin slits. 
A building had fallen behind him. Your building. He had been a few blocks over, the sound of the apartments crashing simply mixed into the chaos of the attack. He had captured 10, saved hundreds that day from the destruction. Not that any of it mattered. His knees buckled, panic rose in his throat, his chest constricted. He forgot how to breathe. He staggered towards the rubble as the rescue efforts continued. He couldn't take it. He couldn't stand the thought that you might be–
“Hawks?” 
You stood behind him. Thank god you found him. You had heard the commotion, been called into action, and had run out to the streets helping people to evacuate. He turned to you sharply and froze. You immediately recognized what had just happened. 
“Help me check a vantage point. I want to see something.” you point to a skyscraper maybe half a mile to the north. You kept your eyes on him, he didn't dare look away. His sidekick looked between you. Whatever you needed was important. 
“We have it covered here, Hawks. We will see you back at the agency to finish up the report.” She gave you both a quick thumbs up and ran back into the commotion.
You nodded your thanks. He still felt frozen. You walk over and give his arm a quick pat. You needed to leave the public eye. Immediately. 
“Come on feathers” you mutter.
He finally shakes awake, grabbing you and spreading his wings for lift off. His adrenaline still coursing through his veins, you make it to the building within the minute. He has an uncharacteristically awkward landing and you try your best to hide your stagger. Finally he lets out a shaky breath. He has helped you countless times through your fears. The shock hits him like a wall and he starts to breathe heavily. You pull him to the ground to sit with you. He stares at your hands as his eyes start to well up. Losing you was his greatest fear.
“Hey, Kei.” you keep your voice low and gently hold his hands in your lap. 
“I- I thought that…”
“I know, I'm sorry I should have updated you. They called me to help evacuate a little after you arrived.” It was meant to be your day off. Thank goodness you were on call that week. 
He shook his head, still rattled and unsure. You watched him carefully. 
His breath hitches. You had a feeling you knew what was coming next. After so many years of suppressing his every emotion, his brain had saved him time and time again in the only way it knew how. 
His breathing grew shallow, his eyes started to unfocus. His brain overwhelmed, he starts to check out. You were both familiar with dissociation and how scary it could be. You also had grown close enough to recognize when it started and what could help each other. 
You gently grasp his cheek and tap your fingers a couple of times, bringing a new sensation. You needed to act quickly yet gently. 
“Hello my love. I’m sorry, I know that was terrifying”. 
Your other hand grabbed his wrist and placed his palm on your own pulse point. 
“We made it out though. I am very much still alive, a few bruises here and there but no blood loss, no head injuries, no broken bones I swear.” 
His eyes barely lifted to where you laid your hand over his. Good. any response was a good response. You smiled softly.
“Now we get to sit here together, right? The sun feels nice this time of day…”
Locking in his senses again was essential.
“...the wind messed up your hair a bit, I like it like this.” 
You run your fingers over his scalp, he leans into your touch. Your heart aches for him. 
“The ground is still here to support us…”
You pat the cement below you holding you ironically about 50 stories high. His breathing starts to pick up again. 
“I’m so glad you brought us here birdie, thank you.” 
His eyes widen at you. You smile and move closer into his lap, pulling him in for a hug. You feel him breathe in your scent, his favorite he always said. Sappy bastard. 
He lets out a sob. You try to hide your smile and rub his back.
“There you are”
He gently shakes against you, finally gaining his feeling back to his body.
“I thought I lost you.” 
“I know. But you found me didn't you?” 
He pulls you closer and squeezes. 
“I couldn't even look for you. I couldn't even move.”
You huff a laugh.
“Well I guess I was the one who found you this time. It's okay. We will find each other.”
A tear hits your shoulder, you continue to sit with him.
“I’m sorry” he whispers
“For what?”
“For freaking out, for crying, for not coming sooner.. I don't know just all of it.” 
You pulled your head back and caught his face to look at you.
“Now that's not fair is it? Should I apologize for needing your help when I'm scared? Are my emotions an inconvenience for you?” 
He shook his head, almost panicked.
“No, no of course not!’
You wrap yourself against him once again.
“So why would you? I like helping you, it makes me feel good. Don’t be selfish and take that away from me.”
He huffed a laugh. Calling your kindness selfish… 
“Lets stay here as long as we need. We can figure out an excuse later. Just, be with me for a bit?” 
He wraps his heavy wings around you and nestles his head into your neck after a gentle nod. He felt small. But he had you to protect him, a new feeling he could never truly regret. 
The sun continued to warm your skin, the wind ruffled your hair and his wings, the building held you high away from the chaos. You both let yourself feel, together. Until you were ready to join the world below once again. 
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jingsyuans · 10 days
Note
Honey, you're gonna make me act unwise
Please vkdfkds
Calling Jing Yuan "Good girl"???!!?!
I'm shaking the bars of my enclosure at the thought of it
I also like feminization because in a way it's like an outlet for Jing Yuan, he doesn't have to be anything but your pretty girl 💞❤️❤️ and he really likes that a lot.
Imagine dolling him up super good (wig, makeup, etc and he's unrecognizable) and taking him out for a date night, spoiling him and everything.
At first he's a little bit hesitant about it but once he sees himself all dolled up he knows that he won't be recognized so he indulges greatly. (This is extremely self indulgent but I think he'd look gorgeous in Lady Dimitrescu's dress but perhaps in red or something)
Everyone who sees him just sees a tall beauty hugging your arm. Wondering who "she" is and everything, Jing Yuan's lowkey preening over the whispers of how pretty "she" is.
Please I'm weak
This is so trueee I think him being dolled up would be such a real outlet for him just like u said! Where he can relax and be taken care of and feel pretty…. He deserves it…. It’s an indulgence, something you two don’t do very often, but it’s always such a treat when you can. It takes a whole committed day- working on his outfit and his makeup/hair takes a few hours, but this is part of the outlet just as much as everything else. Though personally I love his hair so I wouldn’t want him to wear a wig 😔 I think cleaning it up and styling it would truly give off the impression it’s someone else entirely in and of itself because his daily moppy style doesn’t take advantage of his luxurious hair!! You can do a lot once you brush through it.
I do agree on the dress… I think he would like something long and elegant, as well as something that hugs his body a bit. Thats the indulgent part! Jing Yuan is well aware he’s attractive in a masculine way- he knows all about Tingyun’s business- so to be attractive in a more feminine way that compliments his curves differently is nice. Aghhhh I just love the idea of dressing Jing Yuan up for real !!! Such a specific niche but,,,, nngngng
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solverse · 7 months
Text
A carol for the souls. (ii)
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Quo; Give a character a song. (SAGAU)
Characters; Bennett, Fischl, Razor & Kaeya.
Notes; I really like the three as best friends and Kaeya is there as the responsible adult. This isn't a character study whatsoever, just a little self-indulgent fic.
Dics; Again, the intro is unbearably long because I can't seem to write one-shots under 1k words.
| (i) |
Ribs - Lorde
Bennett was having an amazing day! Not only that his bad luck had subsided a little for today, most of the unfortunate situations were him almost tripping over himself but gladly, his team was there to watch his back. Today was also one of the days when he was chosen by the Guide to go on an adventure. 
Ever since Bennett had become a 'chosen' one, he had the opportunity and pleasure to meet different kinds of people and see tons of new places. Since he was an adventurer since he could ever walk, Bennett knew Monstadt like the back of his hand.
But never would he think he'd get a chance to see other regions as well! Monstadt was his home, the place where he knew he could return to – that was the kind of beauty Monstadt was. But the other regions held such a different aura and magnificence that Benette couldn't explain in words alone. 
And what made all of that better was that he got to go with his friends. With Razor and Fischl, on their own very (miscellaneous) adventures around Tevyat! Razor and Fischl were his best friends and some of the best people he had ever known. Traveling with them to see different places, exploring, and fighting different bosses was a dream come true. 
Oh, there was also Kaeya! Brother Kaeya who had been appointed as the responsible adult of the group and Bennett appreciated that sentiment, knowing that someone like Kaeya was watching their back anytime, lest any of them get into a dangerous situation. 
On a simple day, they were traveling through the forest of Sumeru, after heeding the safety clause that a Forest Ranger had given them. Apparently, the ranger was someone Kaeya knew. Bennett had watched in fascination as the new green-haired girl groaned in embarrassment when she recognized the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya has a good time teasing her. 
It was when they arrived at the riverside that Bennett finally noticed the eerie silence starting to settle in. Kaeya was the first to notice, followed by Razor who seemed alarmed at the sudden change in atmosphere. It seemed that the occurring background music had disappeared. 
Bennett had known of this phenomenon, Barbara had told him about the random time when the Guide would start playing bizarre music. It happened to some 'chosen' ones, while some might go on their days never hearing this bizarre music.
Despite his bad luck and all, Bennett firmly believed that he has good eyes when it comes to people. It's just that Bennett sometimes overlooked his judgment so he could be friendly. But judging by his friends' reaction, only Fischl seemed experienced in this situation. 
Well, that was a given since out of all of them, Fischl was one of the original and earliest 'chosen' ones, other than the Traveler. She had the guidance of the Guide more than Bennett could wish for. But don't get him wrong! He's extremely happy that one of his best friends was favored by the Guide. 
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard an unfamiliar sound, building up in an echo. It sounded like it was directly next to him and yet all over him too. The sound was soothing in a way that Bennett couldn't explain. 
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
Bennett almost jumped when the voice started singing before he calmed down. He felt embarrassed at the moment and couldn't focus on the song until a few seconds later. It was why he didn't quite catch the first few lyrics. 
We can talk it so good,
We can make it so divine,
We can talk it good,
How you wish it would be all the time,
Bennett frowned and crossed his arms, even though he was giving his utmost attention, he still couldn't decipher what the lyrics meant. The music sounded really nice, it made him tingle all over his body in a good way. 
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
The song repeated the lyrics again, as if giving Bennett another chance to find a meaning behind those words. But when he took a glance at Fischl, something was caught in his throat. Bennett had never seen that look on Fischl, one that told of memories and reminiscence. Without even knowing it, Bennett didn't realize how it was so different.  
This dream isn't feeling sweet,
We're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone,
It feels so scary getting old,
In a way, Bennett could understand it a little. Since he was a kid, Bennett had always been the 'unlucky' or 'cursed' kid that everyone stayed away from. Because if you ever get near him, you will get hurt too. 
And that hurt a lot. Even as a child, hearing those words come from people who you wanted to know about, who you want to get along with, hurt a lot more than he wanted it to. Even now, Bennett couldn't bring it to ask himself if things got better now, as days passed by.
We can talk it so good,
We can make it so divine,
We can talk it good,
How you wish it would be all the time,
Looking back at all the stuff he had experienced, Bennett likes to say that they had built him into the person he is. A passionate adventure with a penchant for bad luck. It wasn't all that bad. Bennett likes to think that he was lucky in parts that others won't look at. 
After all, the Unlucky-Boy was able to meet two kids who were outcasted by what society deemed unorthodox. Looking back at it, Bennett will always be grateful that his path, his fate, had crossed with Fischl and Razor. 
He doesn't care much for the things others say about him, no matter how much it pained him to hear so. But Fischl and Razor was the best thing that happened to him, that's why Bennett wouldn't let anyone else say otherwise. Because of them, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. 
The days of adventure they went on for the past years stayed firm and locked deep within his heart. People like to talk, they like to say. Words are powerful. The words they spout can be such a tool that made Bennett feel useless in a broken shed. 
But actions are also powerful. Razor was raised by wolves his whole life, his speech manner was slower and shorter than others. Fischl had a lot of vocabulary, she spoke in a tongue-twisted manner that made anyone's head spin. 
But, but– despite all of that, their actions are all so powerful to Bennett. The hold, pats, hair brushing, or simple gestures were all so powerful. 
This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,
Throughout Bennett's life, he learned that words can and will hurt sometimes. But even with that– actions can speak louder than words. So Bennett learned to not listen. He learned to see, to observe. 
Because if he listened, if he heard, it would hurt him. 
And Bennett thinks that it's endearing, amazing that Fischl and Razor showed their love with such simple actions.  And throughout their cages of ages, Bennett learned to appreciate those gestures more and more. 
And to realize that Bennett had never noticed any of that back then, it baffled him. But in a way, those little things– showed him something. Something that ached and warmed his heart. Something that made his eyes sting from the wave of sentiments crashing into him. 
This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,
Bennett sees them and they see him. That's enough to make his heart twist in the sweetest way possible because now he knew. Along with all their time of adventures and exploring, Bennett finally saw it all. 
When he locked eyes with Razor's and then Fischl, Bennett didn't hide the giddy smile on his face. Razor looked confused at most, eyebrows furrowed while Fischl only deadpanned at him. And it's during those moments, Bennett saw it again. 
Razor's red eyes were darker and the slim gray of his hair had also turned darker through the years. It was longer than Bennett remembered, Razor's hair was by his waist now.
Fischl seemed taller, eyes shining with a glint that Bennett recently discovered after the Archipelago event. She stood steadier and a lot more confident, not afraid to break out of her character anymore. 
I want 'em back, I want 'em back,
The minds we had, the minds we had,
How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts,
Moved 'round our heads, moved 'round our heads,
I want 'em back, I want 'em back,
The minds we had, the minds we had,
It's not enough to feel the lack,
I want 'em back, I want 'em back, I want 'em,
It made Bennett a little sad as he listened to the lyrics, something echoing deep inside him as those words were sung. Truly, through his whole life, Bennett wondered if he could even experience it all again. 
It might have been a bit painful, a bit reckless. But Bennett still thought back to the moment his path had crossed with Razor and Fischl. To the day when the luckiest boy was born by two unknowing hands that held onto him through all the rocky rides and all. 
Something he held back with all his strength, never letting go. 
And beginning that, Bennett saw all those changes. 
You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),
Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),
And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),
Bennett's breath hitched at that. As his eyes roamed to see his friends, the music echoing next to him, Bennett could only stare. 
To this day, Bennett held the memories close and kept them deep within his heart, where no one would be able to take them away from him. Memories that kept him alive in moments when everything had gotten blurry for him to get through. 
But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough),
It won't. That won't ever be enough because Razor and Fischl meant the world to him. They were his world. Maybe, maybe it was selfish of him to think that way, to preserve these memories like a glass ball when changes were inevitable in their life.  
Growing up from the children they were once. Bennett wondered if he was any different from then. 
You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),
Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),
And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),
But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough). 
Maybe it's selfish of him to want to stay with that innocence, where their ribs would hurt so much from laughing. Maybe it's selfish of him to stay in that mirage where the old days held him with a warmth that he couldn't explain as a child. 
But those won't be enough. It won't be enough for them. So Bennett thinks that maybe it was fine, perhaps it was okay for him to keep holding onto these memories because they built the person he was today. 
With Razor's calloused yet firm hand on his shoulder, Fischl's comforting voice echoing and Kaeya's hand brushing his hair, Bennett will cherish all of these moments. 
( He wondered if they knew. Maybe that's why some needed a little bit of guidance. ) 
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el-yon · 2 years
Text
when did Ichigo 'fall in love'?
Some self-indulgent meta on Ichigo coming to terms with his feelings for Orihime because fic writing... Relating a lot to this poor boy's intimacy struggles, I figured Ichigo's falling in love could be expressed through taking steps towards this particular relationship, little by little.
And that starts with the ground he stands on: empathy
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the basis of their relationship is empathy. The series start with him noticing her, worrying for her because he knows her pain.
step 1: he acknowledges that she notices him, too
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And that is literall because he says "i had no idea you could see us", referring to Orihime seeing his shinigami form. But he also had no idea that she noticed him, paid attention to him and thought of him to such high standards. Seeing himself through Orihime's eyes surprised him at first, but it also helped steel his resolve. She gently holds a mirror to him and says "see, you are a kind, brave person", and he sees that. He sees his own qualities through her eyes - and this is a big deal.
step 2: he lets her in
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now, once again, her display of affection surprises him... and he welcomes it.  He is yelling to the world “I won!”, exhausted, and is (literally) hit with this genuine, tender sentiment that she has for him... and he is grateful for it. In her crying for him, he sees his own desire to see his friends safe, he sees the same level of care that he displays - but he’s also taking in the more intimate concern that she is showing for him. This is another big deal, because allowing someone in like that opens the vulnerability gates, which leads to
step 3: dealing with vulnerability
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... and now, he is confronted with facing the consequences: he let her in, now it can get under his skin. Now it can hurt him.
And it does. He sees his own personal failure in her injuries, but the apex here is the fight with Grimmjow: when he sees her frightened eyes, he doesn't see the kind, brave man he saw before, he sees his own fear. Orihime says: "i can't see my own reflection/ i don’t recognize him"... and neither does Ichigo. Her not recognizing him is mirroring his own personal fear of losing himself to his hollow.
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... but right after, when her loving feelings get to him, he is empowered. She is not just saying “look, you are still a wonderful person”. She is saying “look, this is my heart: it is scared for you, it hurts because I can’t bear to see you get hurt, just like you can’t stand to watch me or anyone else get hurt”. He sees care, he sees love, he sees acceptance and empathy, he sees his old self, and he takes that to heart.
And now, she reaches even deeper.... which brings him to extreme places
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And yet he does not fall back on his decision to let her in. It takes him a while, and quite the pain during FB Arc, too, but finally, TYBW comes and we see that he finally took the next step.
step 4: rely on her and their bond.
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Ichigo finally takes the leap of faith and trusts in their intimacy. He is trusting eye contact to pull a master move to use his hollow - the power that has made them both so afraid before, the extreme place he went within himself, with her. He is confident in himself, confident in her, confident in their relationship, confident that with her by his side, he can do this. He moves past his fear of being vulnerable, he moves past his fear of failing her. He still worries about her, he always will, but now, he is ready to embrace their bond as it is, trusting that the intimacy they built so far will come through - and it does.
This is love.
... and all he needs now is time and encouragement to reassure himself and take the final step.
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captain-hen · 11 months
Text
extremely self indulgent speculation for the finale
The realization doesn’t come upon him all at once. It washes over him in waves, slowly, gradually; from the collapse of the overpass and Eddie going missing, to finding him again, to sitting by his side as he sleeps in the hospital, to coaching Connor through his fears over fatherhood, where Buck realizes that all this time, without even knowing, he’d been thinking of Christopher as his kid. The pieces eventually slot into place, so neatly and perfectly that once Buck can see the full picture, he wonders how he’s been so blind to it, all along.
You need to step into that trap with her, Bobby had told him about Abby, and Buck had never even gotten the chance to do that with her, but he’s been doing it, every single day with Eddie without giving it a second thought. You don’t find it, son. You make it. Thomas had told him, and isn’t that exactly what Buck has done with Eddie and Chris? Built a family with them?
And yet, somehow, it’s taken him this long to figure out. Another near-death experience. Yet another series of heart-stopping, terrifying moments, where he didn’t know if Eddie was alive or dead. He could have been too late. He could have—
Buck draws in a deep breath, pausing at his front door, jacket in one hand and keys in the other. He doesn’t even know what to do with this new-found revelation. All he wants is to go to Eddie’s, to bask in the warmth of his home, to look upon him and Chris with fresh eyes and see what he’s been missing this whole time, to see for his own eyes that it’s real.
Then…what? What if Eddie doesn’t feel the same way? What if he does?
Buck can’t decide which prospect is more terrifying.
Before he can second-guess himself anymore, Buck flings open his door.
He nearly falls over himself in surprise when he sees Natalia standing on the other side, her fist raised to knock, looking just as startled as he does.
“…Hey,” Buck says, slowly, confused.
Truth be told, in the chaos of the past couple of days, he’d almost forgotten about her and their…breakup, if that’s even what it could’ve been called, given how short-lived their relationship was. And now she’s here. On his doorstep.
“Hi,” Natalia gives him a hesitant, embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I was…I mean, I heard what happened, with the overpass. Are you okay?”
That’s why she’s here? Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, Buck nods. “I’m fine.”
“I feel bad,” Natalia goes on. “About how we left things. I shouldn’t have walked out like that, it—it wasn’t very mature of me.”
“That’s okay,” Buck surprises himself with how much he means it. It really is okay. He has no hard feelings…no feelings at all, really, just a strange sense of detachment, and impatience, because right now, all he wants to do is get to Eddie’s house. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to apologize.”
Natalia shakes her head. “I felt I owed you that much, at least,” she admits. “And I was thinking…maybe I was too hasty, the other day. You’ve lived a hell of a life, but that doesn’t mean it’s a reason we shouldn’t try to do this, right?”
Buck stares at her. “You’re saying you want to give it another shot?”
She nods. “Like I said, I jumped the gun before. Maybe we could take the time to know each other. See where it goes.”
Buck can then recognize where the sense of déjà vu is coming from—this is just how it was with Taylor, all over again. Obviously, Natalia isn’t Taylor—thank god—but her leaving, and then changing her mind again and coming back, it feels a lot like his history with Taylor is being rewritten all over again but in a different font.
I think I’m afraid of making a mistake again, he’d told Bobby, and he’d meant it. Dating Natalia wouldn’t be as colossal of a fuck-up as dating Taylor was, but Buck is starting to realize that it would be a mistake, nonetheless. Eddie or no Eddie.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says, after taking a breath, and winces when her face falls slightly. “I think—I think you were right to leave, before. We were interested in each other for all the wrong reasons, and that’s not a good way to start something real.”
Buck had told Eddie that he thought Natalia saw him for who he was but in reality, she was only seeing the side he allowed her to. Not fucked-up, traumatized Evan Buckley, who died for three minutes and seventeen seconds and hasn’t been able to shake the nagging sense fear and dread following him around since. He could be someone entirely different, and she wouldn’t be able to call him out on it because she doesn’t know him, not really.
But Eddie does. Eddie knows him, and Eddie has seen him, seen right through all his bullshit, since day one.
And Buck is tired of going in the same circles. He just wants to go home.
“I see,” Natalia says, after an uncomfortable pause. “Well. I really am sorry.”
Buck shakes his head. “Me too,” he says, wryly. “I know all of that was…a lot.”
Natalia laughs a little, and Buck is relieved that she doesn’t seem too hurt by his rejection. “Maybe not for the right person,” she says, and glances pointedly at the keys clutched in his hand, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor—Buck hadn’t even realized he was doing it. “You look like you have somewhere to be.”
Buck grins, and feels lighter and happier than he has in ages. “Yeah, I do,” he says, softly. “I really do.”
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reverie-starlight · 6 months
Text
I need to get some blood work done and I hate the experience so much, so to make me feel better, here’s some kuroo fluff. I don’t wanna hear anything about how soft this is. I don’t respond well to tough love or logic at all when I'm anxious, I need the softness.
gn!reader, no physical description. tw: blood, needles, hospital/drs office setting. slight anxiety/panic. very fluffy, maybe a little bit TOO fluffy tbh. extremely self indulgent, but what else is new on this blog? lowercase intentional. @emmyrosee I recycled a couple ideas from that one kuroo ask I sent you a while back, I hope that's okay :')
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“I can take the day off of work, I don’t mind.”
you sighed into your mug, one that the man sitting on the other side of the table had gifted you. it was halloween themed, and (very ironically, considering your current situation) had vampire fang designs all over it, many with blood dripping from them.
“I appreciate that, but I would never ask you to.”
kuroo slightly frowned. “you don’t have to ask me, baby, I’m offering.”
he watched as your own brow furrowed, resisting the urge to lean over and smooth it out with his thumb. he tried again. “I know how much you hate blood work. I don’t want you to have to deal with it alone.”
a feeling of guilt started bubbling in your stomach. “tetsu, that’s exactly it, though. I don’t like it, but I’m old enough now to be able to do it alone…” you paused and shook your head before editing your sentence. “I should be able to do it alone by now without spiraling.”
he sighed and gave you a sympathetic look. “baby, there’s no expiration date on fear, or a set age that you’re supposed to get over something by,” he took your hand and rubbed his thumb over it. “you’re scared, and that’s okay. as your fiancé, I’m not going to let you suffer through that alone.”
you took your bottom lip in between your teeth and mulled it over. he tried to hide a fond smile as he watched the wheels in your pretty head turn.
truthfully, he already booked that day off work. you didn’t know yet, but as soon as you had told him the date of your appointment, he had reserved that as a personal day on his schedule.
he’d never call you predictable, but when it came to things relating to your fears, he knew you needed some emotional support- whether you voiced it or not.
finally you looked up at him again with a hesitant, slightly guilty expression. “you really don’t mind taking time off work for this?”
he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “for you, my love? never.”
and a week later, on the day of your appointment, he did everything he could to prove it to you further.
your appointment wasn’t until noon, so he made sure to spend the entire morning pampering you, distracting you enough so that you didn’t even have time to let the anxiety build up.
any time he noticed a faraway look in your eyes, he’d lean over and kiss your face until you laughed, really making sure to exaggerate the noises to embarrass you a bit.
and you recognized his efforts to keep you in good spirits, trying to meet him halfway. usually when you had a big nerve wracking event approaching, you were used to isolating yourself and trying to calm down alone. pushing through and wishing you could stay in control of your anxieties long enough to get through it and beating yourself up when you couldn’t.
however, since meeting kuroo, you didn’t have to do that anymore. when you first got together, you rejected any help he tried to give you. but once he realized that you just weren’t used to people giving you the emotional support you needed… that you were used to the opposite- being shamed for those feelings, he was able to navigate things better.
and along the way you realized that letting someone in was much healthier for you. so in an effort to keep that up, you let him take the wheel, figuratively and literally.
on the way to the doctor’s office, he played music and purposefully sang along badly, all in an attempt to make your life a little easier.
and it worked, because your brain had completely rejected any thoughts of worrying about the bloodwork.
until you had to sit in the waiting room, that is.
he could feel the anxiety rolling off of you as you waited to be called, and despite everything, he couldn’t help but feel a bit useless. all he ever wanted to do for you at any given time was make sure that you were happy and stress-free. he felt his heart break a bit as he watched you try to keep a composed demeanor.
so he pressed gentle kisses to your temple and let you play with his fingers. he even clogged up his storage and downloaded a ton of games for you to play if you asked (he knew how fast games drained your phone’s battery, so he gladly sacrificed his).
but he could tell from your crumbling expression and bouncing leg that the nervous butterflies in your stomach were turning into something much bigger.
he noticed a nurse walking down the hall towards the waiting room and quickly whispered something in your ear.
you looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised at his words, which pulled a shocked laugh out of your mouth. “tetsu!” you whisper-yelled at him, not wanting to disrupt the other patients.
he just gave you a charmingly boyish grin in response, squeezing your hand when the nurse called your name.
she lead you both into a small room, and you started shaking a bit.
“please take your sweater off or roll up your sleeve.”
you did what she asked and kuroo settled beside you on the opposite side of the nurse, tracing the palm of your hand.
“oh my- you’re shaking! are you alright?” asked the nurse and you felt hot embarrassment shoot through your body on top of the anxiety.
“um, yeah, I’m okay,” you said quietly, obviously nervous. she seemed to understand and thankfully didn’t make a big deal about it, rather making conversation about other things as she cleaned your arm.
“is this your fiancé? I love your rings, and it’s so sweet that he came with you today… I wish my girlfriend was able to come with me to my appointments.”
you smiled politely at her, and tried not to watch too intently as she got her equipment ready. you didn’t notice the look she gave kuroo, or the nod he returned to her, understanding her secret message. distract them.
that was his plan all along- even if the nurse hadn’t told him to, he would have done everything in his power to get you to focus on him instead of the test.
once he felt you squeeze his hand out of fear and noticed the tears forming in your eyes as the nurse was talking to you about finding a vein, he gently cupped your cheek and prompted your face away.
“hi, pretty, just look at me okay?”
your lower lip wobbled as you nodded, wincing and screwing your eyes shut as you felt the nurse feeling your arm. “make a fist for me, please.”
your hand cooperated and you let out a small noise of discomfort as she got to work.
kuroo stroked your cheek comfortingly and smiled at you when you opened your eyes again. “have I told you that you look absolutely stunning today, baby? just jaw-dropping. incredibly gorgeous. so blinded by your beauty that I should actually be wearing sunglasses right now.”
if it were under any other circumstance, you would have scolded him for flirting with you in front of someone else so unabashedly, but in that moment you were honestly thankful for it. so you shook your head a little.
he gasped. “I haven’t? how awful of me, I’ll make sure to fix that right away.”
and so as the nurse continued to draw blood, with a small smile on her face as she listened to the near one sided conversation, your boyfriend made it his mission to throw every compliment under the sun at you.
"going back to our conversation last night, reason number three hundred and twenty six why I love you: you're so sweet, even if you're not trying to be. you're just a good person through and through, babe."
though it was mildly embarrassing to need a distraction of this intensity, listening to him talk was definitely having the desired effect on you. your eyes were still a bit teary, and your heart was beating fast, but the expression on your face told him that you weren't as focused on the test anymore.
the soft look in his eyes as he tried everything he could to help you was captivating.
he leaned over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek and you huffed in disapproval. he laughed. "don't get shy now, there's still six hundred and seventy four reasons left to get through. I can space them out if you need me to, though. wouldn't want to send your heart into overdrive or anything. I can feel your pulse, don't even try to deny it!"
you were about to respond with what was no doubt going to be an attempt at a snarky comeback, but then the nurse pulled the needle out and pressed a cotton ball over the puncture site. "you're all done! great job."
you blinked at the nurse in surprise and she just smiled in amusement before placing a band-aid on your arm and walking out of the room with the vial of blood.
as soon as she was gone, kuroo tilted your chin up to look at him again. he gave you a big, wide grin and you weren't sure if the lightheaded, dizziness you were experiencing was because of blood loss or affection for your fiancé.
and once you finally made it out of the doctor's office, back into the car, he immediately leaned over the console and pressed yet another flurry of kisses all over your face and neck.
you giggled at him and tried to shove his face away, but he didn't let you, and instead grabbed your hands in his. he slowed down just enough to leave a few lingering kisses on your lips, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.
once he was done, he smiled fondly and stared into your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. his expression was as soft as his voice. "I'm so proud of you, baby, that went so well."
you smiled at him in return. "thank you, tetsu, you really helped me today... I'm glad you came with me."
he shook his head. "I told you, it's no problem at all. I'm happy I was able to make things a bit easier for you. Now..." he straightened up in the driver's seat and started the car, but not before giving you one last kiss. "let's get some food in you, and maybe a bit of orange juice, too. I read it's good after getting blood work done."
you nodded and stole one of his hands away from the wheel to hold in your lap. you placed your cheek against his now extended arm and sighed contently.
thinking about the day and how hard he tried to keep you happy and safe... how he did his absolute best to take care of you throughout your panic... there was never a time you couldn't feel the soft, gentle love radiating off of kuroo tetsurou. everything he did was with good intentions, all for you.
after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he felt a pair of eyes on him. at the next red light, he glanced down to see you craning your neck and staring at him with an unreadable expression.
he sent you a sly grin once he deciphered it. "...and maybe tonight, if you're feeling up for it, we can do what I mentioned in the waiting room."
you were one hundred percent certain that the dizziness from earlier wasn't from blood loss now.
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I'm not so sure how I feel abt his characterization or dialogue in this one :/
kuroo usually comes easy for me (...that's what she said) (I'm so sorry, I'll leave) but idk, the writing feels a bit off with this one, so I might do some major edits over time... I don't hate it enough to not post though, so I hope you enjoyed!!!!
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