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melancholy-of-nadia · 4 months ago

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love u lately (m) #12 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately chapter title: #12 - shift pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: an outro song is defined as a song placed at the end of an album that signals to the listener that this is the wrap up or conclusion of the story told in the album . and while this might be the outro to this part of your life story, you think this is is also kinda like a prelude to a new beginning. a graduation. a move. a shift in relationships. we don't know what the next album of our life entails but having three boyfriends makes the unknown, a little easier. warnings: LIGHT SMUT, Namjoon sax mention, small FOURSOME scene again, EIFFEL TOWER, random fluff scattered all around, mention of a pool party, kissing, blowjob, multiple orgasms, reader's birthday is 7/9 army day, video call, creampies, multiple positions, dirty talk, pet names, size kink returns, more confessions as always but they're good! playful banter from yoonminjoon note: @daegudrama has been editing this for over a year and if you have not followed her, please do so NOW. She has a SPICY Festa 2023 one shot series that is amazing and is currently working on a BTS x Pokemon fic. Go show some love! total word count: 7.5k (not including the authors notes at the end) drop date: July 12th, 2024, 1PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #11 | Series Masterlist

Overall, your relationship with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin progresses well after that night. Is there really a difference between the time before and after being in a polycule for you?

Well, not really. You would say the biggest difference is that it feels like old times when it was just you and them versus the world, and not like the months leading up to that Gamma party last October. The days when you would stick together, and there wasn’t casual dating or hookups causing a rift in your friendship. You guys are more intimate with one another now though, and it's been serendipitous.

After the initial foursome, you all agreed to keep things lowkey, but your best friends (now lovers) don’t exactly know the definition of “lowkey.” From conspicuously holding your hand as they walk you to and from class (taking turns, by the way), it hasn’t gone unnoticed by others on campus.

Soon after, rumors began circulating, especially coming from a certain salty Gamma boy who got left behind and some snarky Psi Gamma girls who were friends with Jimin’s ex. You’ve heard things in passing like “Y/N, the Beta Tau Sigma slut being passed around the house” or confession account tweets anonymously saying “Y/N is stealing all the finest men on campus for herself. Selfish bitch.”

But these are the same rumors you have been hearing since the beginning, back when you first moved into the BTS house and started hanging out with the guys. But with more concrete evidence now, it’s been more rampant than ever before. However, if you try to defend yourself, you know it will only satisfy those people more, confirming their torment works and continuing to do it until you’re on the brink of insanity.

You don’t blame your boyfriends for their affectionate behavior or for not keeping things more under wraps.

They just want to show you as much love and care as they can to make up for all the lost time they couldn’t do that.

So when you accidentally snap at them for an unrelated thing after dealing with some harassment in your Instagram DMs, your boyfriends immediately worry about you, especially Yoongi. He is the first to notice the shift in your mood, pulling you aside to talk.

"Hey," Yoongi says softly, his voice filled with concern. "What's up? You've been tense all day."

You sigh, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "Sorry…It's just... the bullshit rumors on the confessions account Instagram. I’ve been getting hit with so many DMs from burner accounts calling me “the Beta Tau Slut”. I’ve blocked a lot of them, but…" You feel your eyes slowly fill with tears of anger, but unwilling to let them fall.

Explaining all of this feelsl so stupid. Namjoon and Jimin join the conversation, their faces mirroring Yoongi's worry. "Babt, we won’t let them get to you," Namjoon says, taking your hand in his. "You know we’re here for you, right?"

"I know," you reply, squeezing his hand. "I’m usually good at ignoring shit like this, but damn… it just won’t stop."

Jimin wraps an arm around you, his warmth comforting. "We’ll handle this together, okay? We won’t let them say shit to bring us down."

Their support makes you feel better, but the constant negativity still lingers in your mind. It isn’t just about ignoring the gossip—it is about reclaiming your narrative and not letting anyone else define you or your relationship.

The next day, Yoongi surprises you with an idea. "Let’s make a statement," he suggests. "We’ll show everyone that we’re proud of what we have."

"How?" you ask, curious but hesitant.

"We’ll post about it," Jimin says, determination in his eyes. "Not intended to fuel the rumors, but to show that we’re happy and in love. Let them say what they want. We know the truth." Namjoon and Yoongi nod in agreement. "It’s time we take control of our story," Namjoon adds.

That’s when your three boyfriends post a photo of all three of them kissing your face at once, followed by a photo dump of other moments from that spring semester.

There is no caption, as the photos really speak for themselves. You receive a downpour of positive comments from people who either already knew about your relationship with Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin or familiar faces you have good relationships with that comment their congratulatory messages to you four.

That eases some of the anxiety that has been building up inside you. Seeing the supportive messages and knowing that there are people who genuinely care about you and respect your relationship makes a significant difference. You feel a sense of relief and gratitude wash over you as you read through the kind words. You're glad you have the best boyfriends. They have stood by you, defending your relationship and ensuring you feel loved and cherished despite all odds.

–

"Took you long to come clean, honey pie." Hwasa narrows her eyes at you from the doorway of your room.

“Look I can explain…” You look away in shame, clutching your pillow closely, feeling more anxious than ever. You’ve never had close female friends before, so having to be comforted by one feels scarier than when the guys confronted you about things.

"Explain why you couldn’t tell me why you were snogging with your three guy best friends? I thought we were friends!" She pulls out her phone, pointing to the photo Yoongi had posted as well as Namjoon and Jimin’s.

You really were planning to tell her not long after you made it official with Beta Tau Sigma, but now it feels too late that she found out through several Instagram posts.

“I was scared you would think it’s weird…” "Weird?" She scrunches her face in confusion as she moves closer towards you, her tone serious. "I thought it was pretty fucking… awesome!" Her enthusiasm grows suddenly. "That’s every girl’s fantasy—dating the school’s hottest guys all at once? Trust me, I’ve heard stranger things."

“Really? Like…” You whisper, asking cautiously.

Hwasa sighs, her expression softening as she sits down beside you on the bed. “Like a girl from Psi Gamma doing coke lines with her professor and fucking him after for an A+, or a Mu Chi guy getting his dick up after injecting steroids,” she says with a chuckle. “Trust me, your situation isn’t even close to weird in comparison.”

You have a lot of questions about what she just told you, but you’ll save it for later.

You let out a nervous laugh, relieved by her understanding tone. “I guess you’re right. It’s just all so new to me. I’m so sorry, Hwasa.”

“It’s okay,” Hwasa reassures you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Like I’ve said a million times before, I got your back. I just feel bad for not being able to protect you from the harassment sooner…”

You sigh. "It’s not your fault Hwasa. But the good thing is that I had my boyfriends with me who have been doing their best and bearing with me through this. They’ve really made me feel what love actually is.”

"And that's why I'm so happy for you. I haven't known them for too long, but they’ve always seemed like great guys. If they make you happy, then I'm all for it." Hwasa joins you on your bed, getting comfortable under your Pompompurin blanket.

You smile, feeling the warmth spread through your chest as you move in for a hug. “Thank you, Hwasa. That means a lot.” After a moment, you pull back and remember your other friends. “Wait..do… Soohyun, Jieun, and Soyoon know?”

Hwasa groans, flopping back on the bed. “Soohyun saw the posts, but she’s still a confused little bird, bless her heart. Jieun, though, she’s sharp. She told me she caught on during that camping trip a few months ago. I thought she was imagining things, but she was spot on.” You blush, realizing you definitely need to talk to Jieun about this. “As for Soyoon, she and I had a bet on whether you’d end up with Namjoon or Yoongi because they seemed like more likely options than Jimin at the time. I was Team Yoongi, by the way. But… I guess we both won, so…” You both burst into laughter.

Hwasa's eyes light up with mischief. “Oh, but Soyoon did not see this coming at all! She was convinced you’d end up with Namjoon only. She told me he couldn't stop yapping about you to her whenever they’d hang out. You should have seen her face when she saw the photos! Her jaw literally dropped. She was in complete shock.”

You giggle, imagining Soyoon’s expression. “I can picture it. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Hwasa grins, “You do, but take your time. They’ll understand. And if anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

“Thanks, Hwasa. I really do appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” she says, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, you better tell me how this all began. Every detail. Even the nastiest ones! You’ve got liquor in the kitchen, and I can get Hoseok to provide some weed on the house.”

A good smoke session sounds perfect to loosen up and spill everything.

You nod, then yell, “Hoseok!” He comes running from downstairs, looking confused.

“Give us the good stuff,” Hwasa says with a wink, beckoning him to bring the weed he keeps in a closet next to his room.

“As long as I can join for a bit too!” He smirks back at her, which she returns as well.

You both look at them, shaking your head.

Oh god, this is gonna be a long night.

–

Along with dating, other things that you are all initially worried about eventually start to fall into place.

Yoongi ends up finishing the mixtape he’s been working on for the longest time.

He submitted the best one out of all his peers, which means Professor Kang fulfilled his end of the bargain, writing him a letter of recommendation, and sending his mixtape to Mr. Bang. He said he’d never listened to such an innovative and unique collection of music and held Yoongi in high regard.

“Mr. Bang reached out to me!” Yoongi announces excitedly one afternoon in mid-May, holding up his phone for you to see. “He says he wants to do a Zoom call and talk business!”

You take his phone and read the email on the screen: “As I know you are still studying at X City University, it may be difficult for you to relocate to LA on such a short notice for the summer, but I’d like to potentially offer you a 3-month internship with Bighit Records. You can work remotely for now and then come into the LA office for the last few weeks of the internship. We will discuss more during our call. I don’t want to miss out on having a talented individual with growing potential join our label.”

You pause, stunned by the news. “Holy fucking shit, Min Yoongi! I told you that you could do it!” you exclaim, rushing to hug him.

“Like I said before, it’s because you had faith in me and gave me your love as motivation.”

Blushing, you kiss him on the cheek. “Stop, you’re being so cheesy!”

Yoongi laughs, pulling you closer. "Cheesy, but true."

When the other Beta Sigma boys hear the news, they immediately announce they are going to throw Yoongi a party to celebrate his achievement. Hoseok excitedly proclaims he will supply the alcohol, while Taehyung promises to buy the weed.

“We’re going all out tonight!” Hoseok declares, setting alcohol bottles down on the kitchen counter. “Only the best for our future music mogul.” That night is probably one of the most fun parties of the year.

–

Jimin, too, finds his groove. He wasn’t sure what other goals he had besides trying to get his business degree. He knows that either he or his younger brother would have to start running his dad’s bakery one day. But before that, Jimin’s dad wants him to become a prosecutor…which Jimin wasn’t completely keen on doing.

But there is one thing he does like: dancing. Aside from majoring in business, he is minoring in dance just because it lets him have an outlet to explore his long-time passions. Working for a corporation after graduating seems like the next big move, but for someone like Jimin, he thrives in creative environments more than a boring office.

He’s been doing dance covers since high school and uploading them on YouTube.

Recently, a few of his dance performances with Hoseok started gaining recognition. This led to him asking Jimin to perform in the college dance team’s performance for the university’s end-of-the-year culture fest, as well as choreograph it. He was initially nervous, as he hasn’t done something like this in so long, but you and your other two boyfriends attended his rehearsals, supporting him and cheering him on.

After he killed the performance amazingly with his fellow dancers, Jimin has new aspirations in mind.

“I talked to my parents earlier, more specifically my dad,” Jimin says, laying his head on your lap and looking up at you. “Told him I want to take dance seriously and make it my career.”

“Oh? What did he say about that?” you ask curiously, your fingers running gently through his hair.

“He was a little hesitant at first. You know, trying to nicely say it’s not financially stable.” You hum softly at his words, understanding the concern. “But then he said I could work an office job and dance at one of those professional dance studios during my free time. When I’d make enough, I could leave that job and stick to dance.”

You smile down at him, admiration shining in your eyes. “That sounds like a good plan to work towards. At least he’s supportive, even if he’s worried.”

Jimin nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I’m glad he didn’t outright dismiss it. I just need to prove to him—and to myself—that I can make it work.”

“You can do it, Jimin. You’re an amazing dancer. With your talent and determination, there’s no way you won’t succeed,” you say, your voice filled with conviction. “You’ve made it this far after all.”

He reaches up, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. “Really? You think I could aim for 1Million Dance Studio?”

“Pfft.” You say, grinning. “You are the Jimin Park, after all. Son of the famed Magnate Bakery’s Hyunsoo Park.”

“This is one of the many reasons I love you, babe. Thank you.” He laughs, an angelic sound that fills the room, and cuddles further into your lap, making you laugh at his clinginess.

–

As for Namjoon, he has switched his study abroad program to the summer instead of the fall semester. Being the (slightly) possessive boyfriend that he is, he can’t bear being away for that long. Especially this early on in the relationship when he is worried other guys would try to get at you. But you reassure him that it won’t happen, Jimin and Yoongi are with you anyway.

Despite you rarely seeing Jaebeom around after he got the biggest hint that you already had… others, Namjoon sometimes worries you’ll sway.

One evening, as you sit together in your cozy living room studying for finals with Taehyung, Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin, Namjoon brings up his concerns. "You’re not gonna randomly break up with me… or all of us while I’m gone right?" he asks, his voice tinged with unease. "What if Jaebeom tries to get at you again? Or Mingyu? I know he’s such an attractive guy and you–"

You interrupt him mid-rant and take his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. "Namjoon, you know I love you. I love Jimin and Yoongi too. You don’t have to worry about anyone else getting in the way. And besides, these Beta guys will keep protecting me too, right guys?"

Taehyung looks up from his notes and grins. "Absolutely! No one's getting past us!"

Jungkook nods vigorously. "We’ve got her back, Namjoon. Always."

Hoseok chimes in, flashing a bright smile. "Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll keep all those weird frat boys, international students, and businessmen away."

Jin, ever the voice of reason, adds, "You’ve got nothing to worry about, Namjoon. It’s literally summer session too, who the fuck is going to be around here anyways."

Namjoon smiles, albeit a bit shyly. "I know, I know. It’s just me being paranoid.” He lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. "Thanks, guys. I mean it.”

Taehyung chimes in, hitting you with his elbow, “If anything, our little Honey should be worried that her boyfriend won’t find another pretty girl while he’s in Korea.”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging Taehyung back. "Oh, please. Namjoon is too obsessed with me, reading books and looking at art to notice anyone else."

"Very offended you would even think I would do that, Tae." Namjoon narrows his eyes at him, smacking him on the shoulder. "I’m only going to Korea to study at Yonsei, and I’m taking a really cool contemporary art class taught by a famous art conservator and historian. Plus, there’s this student organization I want to join that focuses on integrating art and social change. That’s what’s going to keep me busy."

Taehyung laughs, rubbing his shoulder. "Ah! Okay, okay, I get it. Mr. ‘Studious Foo’. Never mind."

Not long after, Yoongi and Jimin come home carrying bags of BB.Q Chicken and a selection of Korean beers they picked up from H-Mart downtown. The enticing aroma of fried chicken fills the room as they unpack the boxes, revealing an array of golden, crispy goodness as well as sides of white radish in cups and french fries. One box contains your favorite: Soy Garlic flavored chicken, a perfect blend of sweet and savory that you always have to make sure Yoongi orders instead of the original flavor. The other box holds Yangnyeom chicken, coated in a vibrant red sauce that provides a sweet and spicy kick that Jungkook and Jimin are obsessed with. You all gather around the dining table, the spread of chicken and cold beers inviting you all to indulge. The clinking of bottles and the sound of laughter fills the room as everyone settles in. Yoongi pours the beer, its crisp, refreshing taste pairing perfectly with the rich flavors of the chicken.

As you start eating, Namjoon begins to share details about his upcoming study abroad program. He speaks animatedly about his itinerary, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“That sounds really cool, Joonie,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “You’ve always been so passionate about art and using it to make a difference, so I’m glad you have the chance to discover more about that.”

"Thank you my love," Namjoon says, his smile growing. "It's a dream come true, really. And I promise, I’ll keep in touch as much as I can. Video calls, texts, everything."

Jimin, who has been quietly listening, chimes in, "We'll make sure she’s too busy to even think about other guys, hyung. Don't worry about that."

Yoongi smirks, giving Namjoon a playful nudge. "And we’ll show you proof too.”

These nights—eating delicious food, savoring Korean beers, and sharing laughs and dreams with your closest friends—are moments you cherished deeply.

However, there is a bittersweet realization looming: Hoseok and Jin are about to graduate. Soon, these carefree gatherings will change. The thought tugs at your heart as you look around the table, capturing the smiles and laughter etched into your memory. You silently vow to hold onto these precious moments, knowing they will become even more precious with time.

–

About two weeks later, Jin graduated from college. The whole house attends the ceremony, each of you holding flower bouquets or some sort of gift to congratulate him. It is a hot afternoon, sun blazing throughout the 2-hour commencement ceremony while the friends and families sitting on the bleachers are excited and proud.

After the ceremony ends, you all gather down on the soccer field. Jin’s brother, mom, dad, pregnant sister-in-law, and nephew have already arrived to congratulate Jin.

Namjoon, who has been unusually secretive lately, suddenly opens a decently large case he had brought with him. Upon opening it, he pulls out his old saxophone, the one he hasn’t touched since high school. He immediately starts playing it, a catchy tune filling the air. Everyone turns to him in surprise, especially Hoseok.

"Why on earth did you bring that out after so long?" Hoseok asks, his eyebrow raising in curiosity.

Namjoon grins, positioning the saxophone and taking a deep breath. "It's a bet I made with Jin during his freshman year," he explains. "I told him that if he actually graduated on time, I'd serenade him with the 'Epic Sax Guy' song from the 2010 Eurovision."

The group bursts into laughter, Jin included, who is now shaking his head with a wide smile. "I can't believe you remembered that," He says, amusement clear in his voice.

Namjoon continues to play, and all of you around him can’t help but laugh and cheer, clapping along to the music. Jin is doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his face as he watches his friend fulfill an old, ridiculous bet.

Jieun approaches you, wearing a white dress under her graduation gown, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity. She glances at your three boyfriends, who are behind you, laughing and teasing Jin. He looks both amused and embarrassed by the attention he's receiving from people around him after Namjoon's serenade.

"You think you'll be okay, Honey?" Jieun asks, her gaze shifting from the boys to you. Her question is gentle, but her eyes are sharp, taking in every detail.

Your cheeks redden. "I still can't believe you caught on to everything months before anyone else, Jieun."

She grins, a twinkle in her eye. "Of course. Nothing gets past me! Just wasn’t sure whether I was understanding things right." She jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You smile at her, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "But to answer your question, yeah, I think so. We've got a good thing going, and we'll make it work."

Her expression softens, and she steps closer, pulling you into a hug. "I’m glad. I really do think you guys are meant for each other. Just like soulmates."

Soulmates. The word resonates deeply with you. All of the signs from the past just point out to that after all. It just took a little longer for you and them to realize it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Jieun continues, shifting the conversation.

"I'll be moving in less than 24 hours to LA to start my first job in entertainment next Monday. You better come down and visit me, alright?" She gently pokes your cheek, making you giggle.

"Oh woah! I will!"

"And don't forget about what I told you back in April. If you’re still interested, I’ll help you get there."

You nod eagerly, feeling a surge of determination, before you're interrupted by Soohyun, Hwasa, and Soyoon, who come over to bombard Jieun with their congratulatory flower bouquets.

As you watch the joyful scene, you can't help but reflect on your own future. After all, your boyfriends had started thinking about their careers, it makes you realize that maybe you should start getting your shit together as well. You are now their girlfriend with the potential to become their wife, which leads you to talk to Jieun, who was a senior in your department, about your future. Your career.

As a psych major and theater minor, her goal is to go into the entertainment industry and become an actress or go into hospitality in this field. And being a business major and psych minor yourself, hearing her stories about her internship from last summer made you realize you want to consider getting into this industry as well. Jimin and Yoongi will be involved in it due to dance and music, and Namjoon will be consequentially also in it due to working in art, so it will make sense. Maybe this is something you will start looking into as you approach your last two years of college.

As the day draws to a close, you find yourself standing with your boyfriends, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over the soccer field. Jin’s friends and families surround him, laughter and chatter filling the air. Namjoon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Ready to head home and party?" he asks, his voice soft and comforting.

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "Hell yeah!"

++++++++++++

June 21 [Friday]

The sun is scorching as you stand outside feeling the summer heatwave pound down on you. However, your relief for quenching your thirst is suddenly gone as your hand lets go of your iced peach tea. You stare blankly at the building in front of you.

“You’re… going to lease an apartment for all four of us?” You manage to word out, turning back to look at Namjoon and Yoongi in shock.

Namjoon now sports a buzzcut, a new look he wanted to try after seeing how stress-free Sanyawn was with his own buzzcut. The change suits him well, and he looks undeniably hot. He’s wearing a slightly ill-fitted navy blue shirt that shows off his toned arms and a pair of khaki shorts, perfect for the summer heat. His new haircut accentuates his strong jawline and expressive eyes, giving him an edgy yet clean appearance.

Yoongi’s hair has progressively gotten longer, with some locks now cascading down to his shoulders. You were always used to his hair being side-swept or even in a bowl cut, but this new length is more than alluring. Dressed in a loose white linen graphic tee and jorts, Yoongi exudes an effortless cool despite the weather. The longer hair frames his face beautifully, highlighting his sharp features and giving him an almost ethereal doll-like look.

Jimin stands beside you, his hair now a striking blonde. He always talked about dyeing his hair but was hesitant to take the plunge until last week when Jungkook spontaneously decided to help him do it. It could’ve gone really badly, but it turned out incredibly well. He looks prettier than ever, the blonde contrasting perfectly with his warm skin tone. Jimin is wearing a white t-shirt and ripped jeans, a playful and stylish summer outfit that complements his new hair color.

“Uh, I mean, why not? We’re dating after all. Think it would be better for us.” Yoongi shrugs, walking towards the side gate entrance of the apartment complex and going inside. Jimin helps grab your sad, empty plastic cup on the ground and throw it in a nearby bin. You just got it on the way here and were barely halfway done with it. Nonetheless, the three of you follow along behind him on this self-guided apartment tour.

“But…what about Beta Tau Sigma? The house?” Your words sound sad. “Are we not living there even after Seokjin and Hoseok graduate?”

You were only there for a little less than a year, but managed to become so much closer to the guys who you’d only share a few words with and maybe some small talk prior to living with them. What’s going to happen to them now? The house being two stories and having 4 rooms made it rather expensive to live in, especially in the area you are in. With 8 people living in it, there wasn’t much difficulty in getting the bills paid, and still having enough for other things like tuition and whatever fun stuff we had.

You’ve been working in the library since your freshman year, and while you didn’t talk about it much, the guys had jobs to contribute to the costs as well. Namjoon works at a local art gallery near campus with San Yawn. Jimin works at the Admissions building and does campus tours to visiting students (which usually always charms them to enroll). Yoongi does freelance producing work for some studios in the area. Taehyung works late nights at a jazz club while Jungkook works reception at the gym. Hoseok is a dance instructor at a local community center and Jin… Jin doesn’t work. His rich parents have been really supportive to help provide for the other expenses.

“They’re planning to move out sometime in January. Jin just graduated and Hoseok is graduating in December. They don’t know if they’ll still be around, so Taehyung and Jungkook won’t be able to cover all the costs on their own. They’re looking to rent an apartment here too.” Namjoon adds.

A silence falls as the reality of things changing settles in.

“Can’t believe this is the end of Beta Tau Sigma…” Jimin mumbles, which doesn’t go unheard by the rest of you guys.

“For now. If things start looking good for us post-grad, maybe we’ll rent a new house together that’s even bigger. It was feeling a bit cramped in the last few months, not gonna lie.” Namjoon puts an arm around you, “But for now, we need some privacy…” He smirks at you, which makes your eyes roll.

“What he wants to say is that we can’t fuck you on the kitchen table at the BTS house.” Yoongi bluntly says, making you choke on your spit. Namjoon and Jimin begin to hit your back, which makes it worse with multiple hits.

“Hyung!” Namjoon and Jimin yell at the older man, who shrugs.

“Oh my god…” It’s an understatement to say you are feeling half nervous and half horny at the thought of being fucked on every surface of your new home by your three boyfriends. Are you even going to survive that?

After a couple of months of being together, most of those times you’ve taken turns having sex with all three of them. At times, maybe one boyfriend would be in the room watching you and another getting it on. But as they mentioned, it’s not particularly easy to have sex as a group when you live with 4 other guys. Keeping quiet is not a simple task. You could’ve sworn you overhead Taehyung saying to Jimin and Jungkook that he got off of the sounds you and the guys were making one of those nights. And maybe you haven’t been able to look him in the eye since!

“You guys know I’m up for anything,” you say with a grin, giving them a thumbs-up, which earns you bashful smiles in return.

"Give it a few weeks while Namjoon is away, and you're all ours," Jimin teases, winking mischievously. “You know what an Eiffel tower is?”

“I–”

"H-Hey, that's not fair!" Namjoon protests, though his smile betrays his playful spirit.

After Jimin’s teasing comment, you all decide it is time to go check out the new apartment.

Upon entering the place itself, you are greeted by a spacious living room with large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The kitchen is modern and sleek, and there are three bedrooms, one for each of your boyfriends. The best part is the balcony overlooking the pool, a perfect spot for late-night talks and relaxing evenings.

“This place is beautiful!” you exclaim, twirling around in the living room. “You guys did great!”

“We thought you’d like it,” Namjoon says, grinning proudly.

“We should start moving in right away,” Yoongi suggests, already planning how to arrange the furniture. “Makes things easier before we start to get busy this summer.”

You nod excitedly in response, which makes him lean in close to you and kiss your temple.

A part of your heart breaks knowing that you won’t be back at that house on a daily, but no matter what, you’re ready for a new beginning with your soulmates.

–

Over the next couple of days, you all work together to move in. It’s a whirlwind of unpacking boxes, arranging furniture, and hanging up decorations. Namjoon proves to be surprisingly meticulous, insisting on organizing the bookshelf by genre. Jimin and Yoongi spend hours setting up a cozy corner with bean bags and a record player.

Finally, with everything in place, you all decide to celebrate with a pool party with friends at the apartment complex. The sun is shining, and the air is filled with the sounds of laughter and splashing water.

This is truly what life is.

“Uugh~”

“Fuck baby, stay still while I fuck your tiny pussy.” Namjoon whispers as he lifts your ass to thrust at a better angle. You are currently trying to balance yourself with your noodle arm on the couch as Yoongi enters in and out of your mouth and you use your other hand to pleasure Jimin’s cock.

You were enjoying the party not long ago, and then once it ended, they immediately came back in with you, locked the door and closed the blinds. You guess the black swimsuit you bought really enticed them through the day.

Now you’re being overstimulated to the brim. Your body is going to ache tomorrow for sure.

“This fucking bikini… Were you trying to kill us?” Yoongi chuckles, his hips are moving more frantically now, chasing his orgasm with little regard for how obvious his movements are.

“So fucking slutty wearing that in front of the guys.” Namjoon moans quietly. “Let me breed you before I leave you to Yoongi and Jimin.” He snickers, making you whine as your cheeks heat up. Not long after the first couple of times with Namjoon, you found out he has a size kink, a breeding kink, and a slight degradation kink. It’s so interesting to see the contrast from being a golden retriever on a normal daily basis.

Namjoon pulls out and snaps his hips back into you, burying himself inside you over and over again, his movements make your brain go fuzzy as he uses his knee to push your legs further apart, from this angle he reaches deeper inside you, his fat tip prodding at your cervix. He presses his large hand right above your womb to feel himself moving inside, the feeling sends you over the edge as well, and your walls squeeze him, robbing him of all breath.

“Shit..” Is all he manages as his climax hits him unexpectedly, you feel him spill inside you painting your walls white. Yoongi follows, making you swallow the cum as Jimin paints your tits with his own.

+++++++++++++

July 9th [Monday]

A few weeks later, Namjoon is in Korea, settling into his study abroad program. It has been years since he was last in Korea, back when he was just a kid before he moved to the US. Now, as he overlooks the sprawling Seoul skyline from his dorm window, he can’t help but think about how much his life has changed since then—especially after meeting you, his next-door neighbor. He often daydreamed about bringing you here one day, showing you all the places that meant so much to him. He’d start with Ilsan, his hometown, then Daegu, where Yoongi was from, and finally, Busan, where Jimin’s mom currently lives.

But those daydreams will have to wait.

For now, he has to focus on his studies and then think of the future. Namjoon opens his planner, filling it with various assignments he has received for the semester. He makes a note to visit the National Museum of Korea in the coming days for one of his assignments. As he glances at the date, he suddenly realizes something important.

“July 10th here… Wait… July 9th. It’s baby’s birthday in the States,” he muttered to himself. “Damn, I was so busy getting settled here that I almost forgot.” Just as he is about to panic, his phone buzzes with a video call notification. It’s you.

Wasting no time, he answers the call, looking forward to seeing your face after a few days of not seeing it virtually.

But it isn’t your face, it’s Jimin’s.

“Hi Hyung! You didn’t wish our baby happy birthday earlier so…” He switches the camera view, showing Namjoon what appears to be you, receiving backshots from Jimin as you suck on Yoongi’s dick. “We wanted to show you what you were missing.”

Eiffel Tower.

Namjoon's eyes widen as he watches the video. He can’t believe what he is seeing, but a small smile creeps onto his face.

Jimin passes the phone over to Yoongi, who holds the phone close to your face, showing his dick going in and out of your mouth.

“Fuck…” Namjoon's hand slowly inches inside his sweatpants, palming his cock slightly.

“Baby, show your daddy how good you’re taking me,” Yoongi said seductively.

You smile playfully, your eyes locked with Namjoon's eyes on the phone. You slowly take Yoongi's dick deeper into your mouth, swallowing and pulling back before starting all over again. Jimin and Yoongi sigh contentedly, their eyes never leaving yours.

Namjoon watches, mesmerized by the sight. His heart races as he stares at the beauty of your body, your lips wrapped around Yoongi's dick.

He feels a wave of longing and desire wash over him, making him pull out his own dick to stroke it as he watches you be taken by his two best friends.

The sound of your moans and their groans fill his ears as he continues to watch. His mind races with thoughts of the three of you together.

Jimin and Yoongi's bodies move in perfect harmony with each other, their sweaty skin slapping against your soft lips. Namjoon's own cock twitches in his hand, unable to hold back his own arousal any longer. He wonders if the three of you are thinking of him as he watches, if you are fucking with the intention of sharing your pleasure with him.

Namjoon eyes widen as Yoongi sets the phone down, propping it up so Namjoon can get a full view of you being fucked and Yoongi making out with Jimin.

He can see your body arching, Yoongi's dick sliding in and out of you as you reach down to stroke Jimin's dick. Jimin moans into Yoongi's mouth, his own hand moving faster on his own cock. The sight of you pleasuring the two of them is more than Namjoon can take.

He begins stroking himself faster, desperate for an orgasm.

As you begin to scream, Yoongi and Jimin follow suit, their orgasms filling the air. You collapse onto the bed, panting, as the three of them kiss and cuddle. Namjoon's own orgasm hits him like a freight train, his eyes locked onto the screen as he comes, his body shuddering with pleasure.

Fuck.

He needs to get through this semester abroad, make connections, come home and take care of you all for the rest of your lives.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He huffs before you wave with the laziest and most fucked out smile ever.

“I m-miss you.” You say before Yoongi ends the call to continue whatever he and Jimin have planned for your birthday night.

++++++++++++

September 6th [Friday]

“What are your thoughts on having kids?”

You nearly choke on your water, sputtering and coughing as you set the glass down.

“Kim Namjoon!?” you manage to say, eyes wide with surprise. It hasn’t even been a full week since Namjoon returned from Korea, and here he is, bringing up such a huge question out of nowhere.

Namjoon looks at you with a calm, thoughtful expression, leaning back on the couch with Jimin and Yoongi on either of his sides, eating snacks while catching up on One Piece. “I’ve just been thinking a lot, especially after being away. I mean, it’s not like I’m saying we should have kids right now… or ever, but... I’m curious about your thoughts on it.”

You blink, still processing the sudden shift in conversation. “Well, honestly, I don’t really want to have kids…”

You’ve never had motherly instincts or felt like a caretaking figure. You have a younger sibling, but you’re only a few years apart in age, similar to Jimin and his brother or Namjoon and his sister, so it doesn’t require you to take on much responsibility. Plus, the things you’ve read online about pregnancy heavily scare you. You refuse to do it.

Silence proceeds, making you a little nervous. “I… Uh, could we opt for cats?” You suggest, giggling awkwardly.

“Okay but…” You start, knowing you’re gonna regret even saying this. “Maybe… just maybe… I’ll consider having one child. You guys just have to rock paper scissors that.”

Namjoon chuckles, his eyes softening. “If that’s what you want, sure. As long as we get three and we each get to name them.”

Yoongi smirks, leaning back. “I call for naming one Gyul!” You remember it means Tangerine in Korean, and it fits Yoongi’s vibe perfectly.

Jimin’s face lights up. “I’ll go with Marimo, like the moss ball,” he adds, making you laugh at the thought of a fluffy cat named after a plant.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “Okay but…” you start, knowing you’re going to regret even saying this. “Maybe… just maybe… I’ll consider having one child. You guys just have to rock paper scissors for that.”

“Really?!” Namjoon’s eyes widen, excited by the potential.

The room erupts in laughter, the tension dissipating. “Rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honor, huh?” Yoongi grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I guess that’s one way to settle it.”

“Let’s decide now!” Jimin’s competitive nature kicks in, and he’s already positioning his hand for the game.

“Wait, wait!” You laugh, holding up your hands. “We’re still in college! Let’s give it several years for us to get settled with everything and our careers–”

“What about marriage? That can happen sooner right?” Yoongi’s eyes gleam with curiosity and a hint of excitement.

You blink, taken aback. “Marriage?”

You’re not gonna lie. You have thought about this one.

It would be difficult to get married to all three of them in a country where polyamory isn’t…legal. And there’s also the whole thing with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin’s parents being Korean and religious. That would most certainly give some or even all of their families heart attacks. So what were you thinking would be a good solution to this.

Legally marry only one of them.

And surprisingly you already have someone in mind for this.

“Your face is telling us you have thought about it.” Namjoon chuckles.

“What!? No way.” After cleaning the spill from earlier, you turn to sit on the loveseat, holding your bag of Lay’s Sea Salt & Vinegar chips with your glass of wine. These are your go-to snacks after all… well right after the Banana Kick Korean Cheetos that your local H-mart ran out of.

“So who did you have in mind, or are we also playing rock, paper, scissors for this?” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“I have someone in mind, but I’m not gonna say yet!” You say, then eat your chips. “I don’t think I’ll change my mind, but you can always try to win me over…perhaps.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning forward. “You’re really going to keep us in suspense, huh?”

Yoongi smirks, nudging Namjoon. “Better step up your game, Joon. Looks like you’ve got some competition.” He gestures to himself and Jimin.

Jimin laughs, popping a cheese ball into his mouth. “Challenge accepted. Just wait and see, Y/N.”

Is this really going to be another virginity race with them?

You roll your eyes at their silliness. "I do not want to see this turn into a competition again, guys. So let’s just go with the flow. This is a democracy!" you declare, trying to maintain a light-hearted atmosphere about this before they start a fight over this.

Namjoon leans back comfortably on the couch, his expression thoughtful. "Fair enough," he concedes, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But you know we're all going to do our best to win you over for this."

Yoongi chuckles softly, leaning in closer. "That's right. We'll make sure you know why we're the best choice," he says with a playful smirk.

Jimin nods eagerly, reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table to refill his glass. "You can count on it," he chimes in, his gaze lingering on you with affection.

Outside, the last rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting fleeting patterns on the floor. The evening breeze rustles the leaves outside, a gentle reminder that time continues to move on. Inside, amidst the comfortable familiarity of your new shared space with your boyfriends, you take a moment to savor the scene, knowing there’s more to this love story with your soulmates for years to come.

–

Fin.

–

Hi everyone. I just want to thank you all for reading this fic since it was released almost one year ago, August 29th, 2023. As I mentioned before, I had actually thought up this fic on May 29, 2020 and fleshed it out a little more on May 26, 2021. I have a whole character chart on activities/personalities/etc and the first half of chapter 1 up until Yoongi and Reader got ready to go to the Gamma Party. Though, I never got to writing more than that as I ended up getting hired for my first job after college not long after. Last year I got laid off from said job, but there were many issues that had me on thin ice and burnout. Sometimes I wonder if I should've stayed longer and carried on with it. But nonetheless, this leads me to a lot of great small opportunities I’ve found in the past year through networking and meeting amazing people in the music industry. It also gave me time to be like, “I guess maybe I could go back to writing this fic now that I have too much time on my hands…”

I have written fics in the past, but never managed to finish any series. Well, there was an Attack on Titan fic with several thousands of reads on Wattpad, but i will not comment on this further haha. So this was truly my return to writing. It’s funny because I had initially not planned the fic to end up this way. Yoonminjoon have been my bias line for the last 4 years, so I knew that’s the delusional focus I wanted. But definitely had various drafts and plans that could’ve gone differently. But to spoil you on some of those initial ideas…

The original fic plan had more emphasis on Jaebeom throughout the story as (somewhat) an antagonist that would be dating Reader until Yoonminjoon would realize their feelings throughout the story and eventually snatch her away not long after the first 4 chapaters. Jaebeom was my GOT7 bias for a long time before I fell out of the fandom.

not an initial idea but aside from the poly / fwb stuff, there were a lot of events in this fic based on things that happen to me when i was in college a few years ago. i somehow had a pretty wholesome experience, but did have many guy friends than girl friends in college so that did help me in relationship dynamic writing

Other notes I had from 2020 drafts: [Joon, Jimin, Tae and Y/N work at Joon’s family coffee shop on the weekends. Yoongi goes back home sometimes to help his mom at their family restaurant, but mostly works as an underground composer and sells beats. Hobi works on campus in the library. Jin is...rich. Koo works at a chicken place.] Obviously most of this did not happen in this fic, as mentioned earlier in this chapter with changed job responsibilities. Though the one job mainly mentioned in the story was Reader working in the library.

Had more smoking, (light) drugs, etc. use involved. It’s mainly alcohol and weed, but even then it wasn’t heavily done which makes me want to go back and add more of this later on.

Not really initial notes but age/year timeline in this fic for anyone confused

Seniors: Jin, Hoseok (graduated high school early)

Juniors: Namjoon, Yoongi

Sophomores: Reader, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkoo

Jimin cheating on Irene to get with Reader

I really wanted to do this because I wanted Irene to be more involved in the story, but that would make it too messy and dragged out. I would’ve had to make this story like 25 chapters if that were the case.

Also I don’t personally think Jimin would cheat on his gf in this fic or irl, so I didn’t want to write him like that. I had to break them up before he could do anything else.

Jackson

was supposed to be a bigger character in the series… but i accidentally did reduce him to “Jackson the party host”... but at least he’s Hoseok’s close friend and show up often

Jin

I wanted to tie in more of the frat activities and dynamics in this fic as BTS is an unofficial frat on campus and he’s the leader of it, but I honestly don’t think was too important and could take away from the actual story

Jin was supposed to kick out Reader from the house as her relationships with her best friends got too messy and complex, though he didn’t want to do it.

Jihyo

Jihyo was supposed to date Namjoon longer and break up with him during the party where Reader ran into Yeonjun. Timeline should’ve been: Namjoon is at the TXT frat party with Jihyo -> Namjoon fights Yeonjun to protect reader -> Reader is shocked and upset -> Jihyo is confused and Namjoon comes clean about his feelings for Reader -> Break Up -> Namjoon confesses to Reader

I also wanted Jihyo to send the “confession” text to Reader regarding what Namjoon said at the Gamma Party much sooner, so when she saw Namjoon at the TXT frat party, she would know everything. But I couldn’t find a way to tie it in earlier during her fight with Yoonmin. Very messy stuff.

I thought Jihyo was the best choice as Namjoon’s side “love” interest in 2020/2021, but once all the Namjoon and Soyoon friendship photos started coming out, I kinda of abandoned Jihyo and changed my focus to Soyoon.

Soyoon

Soyoon takes on the side girl best friend role that Jihyo would’ve eventually had

Soyoon was supposed to date Namjoon briefly, but it was too messy to write in, so I just made Reader have initial suspicions before the truth came out in Ch 8

Reader and Namjoon weren’t supposed to sleep together after the Yeonjun fight. Soyoon was supposed to act as a wingman for Joon so he could apologize to Reader and then they would have their first time in the library. But I wrote things definitely so it wouldn’t end up like that.

Jungkook

Jungkook was supposed to be closer and more clingy to Reader. They have a close relationship, but I felt that it interfered with other things in the story, so I left it with the mention that he had a little crush on her and would hang out with her often.

Jungkook is the end game if Reader didn’t end up with Yoonminjoon. (hehe)

Namjoon

If there was only one end game from Yoonminjoon, it would’ve been Namjoon for obvious reasons.

If Reader ran into Namjoon right after her fight with yoonmin, that would’ve changed everything and lead him to be end game. I discussed with Rae about these through texts after I dropped Ch 8.

Yoongi

Initially planned for him to not be caught so soon by Jimin, but honestly, didn’t want to drag it out and didn’t know how to tie it better

Should’ve been more Yoongi smut scenes

I don’t know when or if I’ll ever write another series as it’s very time consuming. But for the LUL universe, I still have the LA LA LOST YOU prequel with Reader’s relationship with Yeonjun almost done. IDC (i don’t care) is another series I’ve been thinking of releasing filled with WHAT IFs~ (...Reader picked Namjoon, Reader picked Yoongi, Reader picked Jimin, Reader picks everyone in Beta Tau Sigma?, Reader slept with Jaebeom at the party, etc.). But all of that will have to wait. Let me know your thoughts in the meantime though!

Until then, thank you for all your support, and hopefully we meet again.

With luv, @melancholy-of-nadia

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

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zahri-melitor · 3 months ago

Text

It's interesting to me that Jason is the one Bat who is characterised as a drinker (plus Ric Grayson, but the point of making Ric hang out drinking in a bar was to specifically distinguish him from Dick).

This is very noticeable, particularly given Jason has repeatedly started off crossover events by...being in a bar, ever since 2015.

Here's Batman & Robin Eternal #1:

Jason: So that was fun, who wants a drink? Tim: I'm sixteen, Jason. Jason: It's Gotham city, Tim. I can find a place.

Note here Jason is probably 21 years old, given the only objection raised here is that Tim is underage, not Jason.

This is followed by Jason actually hanging out in said dive bar (and NOT with Tim) in Batman & Robin Eternal #2, where he encounters Cass (they're trying to track her down):

And then even more maturely, after having a fight with Cass in Batman & Robin Eternal #3 (in which Jason gets pulled off Cass by Dick before Cass can take him apart)...Jason then decides he's going to refill his pint glass and...drink more beer in this conversation?

Great life choice, Jason. Definitely what was needed while Harper's bleeding out.

And this is not the only example!

Here he is actually getting said 16 year old Tim into a bar while they’re scouting for information in Gamorra in Batman and Robin Eternal #7.

Tim is clearly uncomfortable and drinking Coca-Cola. Jason’s having a beer.

Here's Robin War #1, where Tim's trying to track Jason down. Guess where he is.

Having shots of some unidentified spirit in this bar (I'm presuming whiskey or bourbon) and getting into bar fights with people about what being Robin is about. The perfect prelude to *checks notes* getting on a motorcycle and heading off to spy on what the We Are Robin kids are up to.

Then here's the latest I've encountered, in Alfred Pennyworth R.I.P.: Tim sets up a wake in a sleazy bar for Alfred as they need somewhere "off the beaten path" and Alfred stipulated in his will he wanted them all to come together for a night off. (That was...a choice, Tim. You couldn't think of a different neutral ground? Ollie got HIS in the Warriors' back room, when they needed to keep that on the low down 25 years earlier)

Despite this, everyone's specified to be drinking ginger ale...except guess who.

Hello Jason. (And yeah Dick is still Ric here but don't worry he gets his memories back basically immediately after this story, they just specified it happened before the memories returned probably because it was drafted by people who didn't know the exact timetable of when Jurgens was doing that).

#and I want to remind you #I actively avoid reading Jason-focused stories!#this is what I keep encountering whenever Jason pops up in a crossover!#given Lobdell made Roy an alcoholic in RHATO I hope Jason's not drinking like this in RHATO #sigh #it's certainly a repeated beat multiple writers (Snyder; Tynion; King; Tomasi) have reached for #jason todd

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concussed-to-pieces · 11 months ago

Text

Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person.

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting.

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.”

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart.

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head.

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe.

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland.

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees.

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?”

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet.

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed.

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion.

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against.

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down.

How long has it been?

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out?

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over.

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over.

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have.

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters?

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets.

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously. At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went.

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more).

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there.

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying.

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it.

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him.

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude.

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it.

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right?

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char.

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone.

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile.

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.”

Karl.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar.

Sugar.

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you.

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy.

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow.

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty.

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly.

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned.

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure.

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.”

Were you blushing?! Dammit!

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn.

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you.

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway.

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling.

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table.

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm.

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance.

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you.

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #epilogue

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bijouxcarys · 10 months ago

Text

Allure (Brian May x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

This has been on my Ao3 since June, but I thought I’d put it on here properly. This is probably the filthiest Bri fic I’ve ever written… I’m proud of it🥲

NSFW, minors dni

Summary: You slip up at work. Luckily for you, Brian May can get anyone out of anything…

Tags: @whothefuckisanja @celestial-dragoness you don’t have to read this, but I thought I’d tag you just in case 🥹

It started off as any other day. Up at 7am, shower by 7:30am, breakfast by 8am, out the door by 8:30am.

Except, this wasn't an ordinary day. Not by a long shot.

I guess I should have been more prepared for the fact that my job as a journalist meant I'd have to speak to some pretty well-known folk here and there. Granted, I was only an apprentice journalist, but I should have known it wouldn't be so easy.

There I was, stood by my front door, at 8:31, debating whether or not I was right for this career. And I was tempted to turn, disrobe, and bury myself in the covers of my bed until the apocalypse came.

My mentor, Candice, had thirty years on me, and twenty years of experience in the field, so I trusted that she would be blunt and honest with me about what I should expect when interviewing somebody of high status. She just didn't warn me about how important this experience would be for me.

But then again, I'm not sure anybody could have prepared me for what was to come.

I managed to make it to the car park, however, of where Candice and I had set to meet, just shy of ten o'clock. I still wasn't 100% sure where abouts in London we were heading that day, as I was just told to bring an overnight bag due to the possibility of having to stay at a hotel, depending on how long we would be. Turns out, we were going to Germany by the Eurotunnel.

But, man, did I know who I'd be in the presence of that day. I'd thought about nothing else for weeks.

It was June 14th, 1998 – Brian May had just released his second solo album 'Another World' two weeks earlier, and it was my job to assist on the interview he was set to do with Isabelle Brinkman. She wasn't that much older than me, but definitely had more experience. I wasn't at that point in my career yet where I could conduct interviews myself. I just had to sit on the side and naively watch as somebody who could do the job better did it instead. To top it all off, I was merely there to take notes from a translator, as I did not understand a single word of German. That made it all the more terrifying for me. Perhaps they just wanted to see how I would adapt to a foreign setting.

As Candice and I stepped foot into the studio in which TMF conducted their interviews, a sense of anticipation permeated the air. Our rendezvous with Isabelle awaited us, serving as a prelude to the highly anticipated interview. While the interview itself was schedules for later that afternoon, the studio surroundings provided me with ample opportunity to acclimate myself to the dynamic atmosphere that awaited me. It was a chance to familiarise myself with the intricacies of the environment I was about to enter—a world where words held immense power and where every question had the potential to unravel hidden truths.

As the minutes ticked away, my mind oscillated between nervous excitement and a profound realisation. I would soon find myself in the presence of none other than Brian May himself—a legendary figure whose musical contributions had resonated with generations. The magnitude of this encounter began to sink in, and with it came a mix of awe and trepidation. Thoughts swirled in my mind as I pondered the upcoming exchange—how would I react in his presence? Would I have able to articulate myself with the clarity and precision they deserved? Hopefully I wouldn't have to actually speak to him... Just being in his presence was privilege in itself.

Yet, amidst these swirling thoughts, a flicker of determination emerged. I reminded myself that this was an extraordinary opportunity—an invitation to engage with a living legend, to witness him delve into the depths of his creative process, and to extract insights that would captivate audiences around the world. With each passing moment, I sought solace in the knowledge that, despite any apprehension, this experience was a testament to the trust placed in me by my more-established peers. I was being given a chance to contribute, even if it was from the side, to the legacy of Brian May—and artist who, I believed, had shaped the very fabric of music.

As the hours stretched before me, I endeavoured to channel my nervous energy into thorough preparation. I immersed myself in research, diving into Brian May's two albums, and reading through archived interviews he had done before, mostly so I could strike out any repetitious questions Isabelle may have had prepared for him. But I also was just intrigued by him, and I wanted to know what I was going to be in the presence of. Through my research, every lyric, every note, every word, became a mosaic of inspiration.

The late 80s proved to be quite a tumultuous period for him regarding his relationship with the media, and his relationships in general. An intricate dance between his public persona and the unyielding scrutiny of the media.

I wasn't totally naïve. I was acutely aware of the parasitic nature that permeated our realm—a cesspool of opportunistic souls who revelled in tearing down the very individuals they claimed to admire. Yet, I steadfastly refused to succumb to that dark allure. My fascination lay in unravelling the enigmatic tapestry of these extraordinary beings, basking in the brilliance of their craft, rather than dismantling their lives for the mere pleasure of it.

To me, celebrities were not objects to be consumed, but multifaceted individuals with their own joys, struggles, and insecurities. Their private lives, as tempestuous or serene as they might be, had no bearing on the rest of the world. Behind the glamour of their fame, they were simply human beings, not so dissimilar from you and me, navigating the labyrinthine paths of existence.

I approached my work with an unwavering respect, seeking to bridge the gap between the public and these luminaries, offering glimpses into their creative realms rather than prying open their vulnerabilities. I yearned to understand the essence of their artistry, to unearth the inspiration that fuelled their endeavours, and to convey their stories with the reverence they deserved. It was a mission guided by empathy, driven by an insatiable hunger to celebrate and preserve the legacies these individuals were shaping. Not destroy them.

While others revelled in salacious scandals and gossip-laden headlines, I found solace in the sacredness of their artistic endeavours. I revelled in the melodies that stirred souls, the words that painted vivid landscapes, and the performances that transported audiences to ethereal realms. It was this inherent love for the craft, this yearning to explore the inner workings of these extraordinary talents, that propelled me forward amidst the chaos.

So, the public image of Brian May that derived from the late 80s and the scandal involving his affair with his current partner, Anita Dobson—the scandal that whipped the media landscape into a frenzy wasn't of interest to me. I clung to my convictions, navigating the treacherous terrain with a blend of naivety and determination. I understood that the world I inhabited was stained by the shadows of exploitation, but I remained resolute in my pursuit of genuine connection—the kind that transcended gossip and scandal, diving deep into the heart of creativity, and fostering a genuine appreciation for the luminous souls who graced our stages and screens.

However, that changed slightly once I actually saw the man.

As I found myself standing in the formidable presence of Brian May, a wave of energy cascaded over me, leaving me utterly entranced. It was as if the very air crackled with a magnetic force that defied description. In that moment, any semblance of composure or rational thought disintegrated before my eyes. Within the first fifteen minutes of his arrival at TMF, Brian May effortlessly shattered my preconceived notions, transforming into an awe-inspiring figure who commanded attention and reverence.

The sight of him was nothing short of breathtaking—an embodiment of perfection that seemed plucked from the realms of mythology. His chiselled features bore the unmistakable mark of divinity, as if the gods themselves had sculpted his visage with meticulous care. The symphony of his presence reverberated through the room, overpowering every other sensory experience. It was impossible to avert my gaze as he greeted everyone on set; I witnessed the personification of physical beauty in its purest form.

I didn't approach the welcome committee. I stood as far away from them as I could, trying to act inconspicuous and making myself as invisible as possible as I observed.

A cascade of dark curls framed his face and sat, slightly draping, over his shoulders, their lustrous strands captivating the light and casting an ethereal glow around him. His eyes, a mesmerising kaleidoscope of celestial depth and hazel intensity, even from this distance, seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. They were windows into the realm of profound emotion, reflecting a captivating blend of passion, intellect, and sensitivity.

Every contour of his face, every sculpted angle, exuded an aura of strength and grace—a testament to the artistic precision with which he was formed. His strong jawline bespoke of resilience and determination, while his lips, seemingly touched by the same gods that created his being, were etched with a subtle hint of enigmatic allure. And when he smiled, it was as if the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the room with an effervescent radiance.

I instinctively lowered my head, trying to blend into the background as he navigated his way through the crowd in the studio, a sea of eager faces vying for his attention. Perched on a small stood, clutching a notebook and pen tightly in my hands, I silently prayed that I would go unnoticed. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of him. It was safer to keep my distance and retreat into the safe haven of my own fantasies.

"Didn't fancy joining the rest of them?"

His voice, soft and melodious, pierced through the clamour of the room, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach, leaving me momentarily breathless. Summoning every ounce of courage, I swallowed hard and took a deep, steadying breath, lifting my gaze to meet the man who had taken my breath away mere moments ago. From my seated position, his commanding presence loomed above me, radiating an aura of undeniable power. I had to tilt my head upwards, straining my neck to meet his piercing gaze.

"I'm Brian," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards me. My throat felt dry and raspy, a nervous rasp that I quickly cleared before attempting to speak. I timidly reached out, expecting a perfunctory handshake, but instead, my smaller hand was enveloped firmly within his, a testament to his unyielding determination.

"I know who you are, Mr. May," I managed to murmur, hoping he would perceive my passive greeting, one that he had received from everyone else, as a signal to proceed with the scheduled interview alongside Isabelle, who was comfortably seated on the cream-coloured sofa amidst the orangey décor of the set.

"Don't you have a name?" His low chuckle reverberated through the air, adding an unexpected layer of complexity to the encounter. I could feel his gaze penetrating through me, raising an inferno of sensations within. It was both exhilarating an unnerving.

"What?" I stammered, my voice betraying my awe, caught off guard by his presence.

"What's your name, love?" he inquired, his words laced with a mixture of warmth and intrigue.

"Y/N," I replied, my voice barely audible, resembling a small squeak that escaped from my lips.

He didn't respond immediately, but a final squeeze of my hand conveyed more than words ever could. A smile graced his lips, a smile that could rival the radiance of the sun before he turned to continue his path towards Isabelle.

I quickly realised that resistance was futile. The power he held over me was undeniable, a force that stripped away my inhibitions and left me vulnerable, willingly surrendering to his captivating energy. The sheer magnetism and allure he emanated transcended mortal boundaries, weaving a spell that ensnared me completely. Every facet of his being—the physical, the intellectual, the artistic—melded seamlessly, forging an embodiment of perfection that surpassed the realm of ordinary mortals.

From that moment on, I understood that my perception of beauty had irrevocably changed. Before me stood a true titan, a modern-day manifestation of the gods themselves.

During the course of the interview, Brian effortlessly settled to the plushness of the sofa, exuding an air of both confidence and ease. His body language commanded attention, with one arm casually draped across the backrest, and his other leg bent upon the cushions, positioning himself towards Isabelle with captivating allure. However, my attempts to absorb the content of their conversation proved futile as my gaze became entranced by his mesmerising presence.

From my vantage point, I relished the opportunity to observe him from a distance, allowing my eyes to linger appreciatively on his impeccable attire. A navy-blue two-piece suit enveloped his frame with sartorial perfection, accentuating his refined taste and sense of style. Beneath the well-tailored blazer, a crisp white shirt peeked through, its top buttons undone, revealing a tantalising glimpse of his sun-kissed upper chest. The subtle contrast of his slightly tanned skin against the pure white fabric was a testament to his natural allure and radiance.

Adorning his neck were two carefully chosen necklaces, their delicate details harmonising flawlessly with his complexion. Each pendant seemed to dance in unison, subtly emphasising his features and drawing attention to his undeniable charm. The interplay between these intricate accessories and the warm tones of his skin created a symphony of visual aesthetics, highlighting his magnetic presence.

Amidst the flurry of the interview, my eyes were irresistibly drawn to his captivating appearance. Every intricate detail of his attire beckoned for closer inspection, each aspect a testament to his impeccable style and timeless elegance. The room faded into the background as my gaze became fixated on the contours of his form, the way his clothing accentuated his stature, and the natural grace with which he carried himself. It was a visual feast, an opportunity to savour the beauty that surrounded him, and I couldn't help but be captivated by his magnetic charm.

Fortuitously, a small earpiece nestled in my ear, providing a direct channel to the translation of Isabelle's introduction and any other German dialogue that followed. But more significantly, it granted me an intimate connection to the melodic cadence of Brian May's voice. The mere thought of his voice coursing through that earpiece ignited a surge of anticipation within me. Little did I know that the experience that awaited me would transcend all expectations.

As Isabelle initiated the conversation, a symphony of words flowed through the airwaves and gently caressed my eardrums. And then, there it was—Brian May's voice, like warm butter gliding smoothly across my senses. The velvety timbre carried a magnetic quality that effortlessly captivated the listener. Each word resonated with a seductive charm, a richness that wove a tapestry of emotions within me.

The power of his voice was unparalleled, evoking a multitude of sensations that transcended the realm of rationality. It wrapped around my consciousness, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and enchantment. Every syllable held a certain allure, drawing me deeper into his world, where time seemed to stand still.

The boundaries of reason crumbled, leaving only the ethereal essence of his voice, a sonic embrace that caressed the very core of my being. It was a voice that defied age, carrying the wisdom and maturity of a man who had traversed five decades of life. Each information exuded a richness and depth, a testament to a life well-lived and experiences etched into the fibres of his being.

As his words reached my ears, I found myself spellbound, unable to resist the intoxicating allure that emanated from his every utterance. It was as though his voice held the power to awaken desires and emotions that lay dormant until that very moment. The experience was nothing short of transformative.

In that fleeting moment, I could have sworn that Brian's hazel eyes, though perhaps coincidental, locked onto mine from a distance. It could have been a passing thought, a random gaze that happened to intersect with mine, but the impact was undeniable. The weight of his attention, even if momentary, unleashed a surge of emotions within me.

Under the piercing intensity of his hazel gaze, a tempest of sensations coursed through my body, sparking an unfamiliar and overwhelming response. A wave of desire washed over me, as if an invisible force had taken hold of my very core. Unbeknownst to him, his mere presence had ignited a primal longing that rendered me powerless, leaving me trembling in its wake.

In that profound instant, my purpose became blurred, and the world around me faded into insignificance. The boundaries of my job seemed trivial, overshadowed by an insatiable craving to bask in Brian May's dominance and surrender myself to his every whim. The realisation struck me with an intensity that was as terrifying as it was intoxicating.

The clenching of my thighs, an involuntary response to the overwhelming desire that surged within me, was a physical manifestation of the inner turmoil I grappled with. It was a battle between reason and raw passion, where reason ultimately stood no chance against the allure of Brian's commanding presence.

Throughout the unfolding interview, a subtle dance of power and desire materialised between Brian and I. With each passing moment, I became increasingly aware that that gaze that I had noticed before was in fact for me.

It was a captivating display of dominance, a silent declaration that sent a shiver down my spine.

As the questions flowed, Brian's eyes kept meeting mine with a compelling force, even with myself being well-hidden behind the camera set-up. His presence enveloped me, it was a game of seduction, a battle for control, as his penetrating eyes sought to unravel the depths of my desires.

With each subtle shift of his body, a wave of power emanated from him, asserting his dominance over the room. His confident posture and deliberate movements spoke volumes, conveying an unspoken command that ignited a fire within me. I found myself willingly succumbing to his overwhelming presence, yearning to explore the unspoken desires that lingered in the air.

Through the veil of professionalism, his eyes whispered secrets that stirred a primal response within me. In their depths, I glimpsed a hunger, a hunger that mirrored my own, as if he were daring me to embrace the intoxicating allure of submission. It was a dance of power and surrender, an unspoken invitation to explore the depths of passion under his watchful gaze.

He spoke with Isabelle, showing her the album cover, his fingers grazing over parts that he detailed. But the electricity that crackled between us grew more potent with each passing second. His dominant presence commanded my attention, drawing me further into a world where his desires and mine entwined. In the recesses of his eyes, I discovered a realm where control was relinquished, and the boundaries of pleasure were pushed to their limits.

But as the interview continued, I was left with a lingering uncertainty. Was it merely a game of dominance, a tantalising tease to stoke the flames of desire? Or did his eyes convey a deeper truth, an unspoken invitation to submit to his commanding presence? Or, perhaps, I had been utterly spellbound by that man's presence that every little thing he did translated as sexual and intoxicating seduction. The questions lingered, suspended in the air, as the energy between us remained tantalisingly unresolved.

As the interview drew to a close, a lingering sense of anticipation remained. He had created uncharted territory, without him even knowing—unless he did know... I'm still not sure.

Suddenly, the world around me seemed to fade into the background as Brian's presence intensified. Time slowed to a crawl, and every detail of his captivating demeanour etched itself into my memory. Isabelle's closing remarks echoes in the room, yet my attention remained fixated on the enigmatic figure before me.

A mischievous smirk played upon Brian's lips, radiating confidence and a hint of playful intrigue. His eyes, like pools of intensity, surveyed the room with a subtle air of dominance. A glass of water rested in his hands, his long, slender fingers tracing a mesmerising path along the rim, leaving a trail of anticipation in their wake.

It was then that a startling realisation washed over me. Throughout the entire interview, my hand had unconsciously clung tightly to the pencil, rendering it immobile. As I reluctantly tore my gaze away from Brian's captivating presence, I glanced down at my neglected notebook, only to discover its pristine pages untouched by a single word.

A mix of awe and bewilderment coursed through my veins. How had I become so utterly transfixed by his presence that I had neglected my professional duties? It was as if time had suspended itself, and my sole purpose had shifted from capturing his words to capturing the essence of his being.

The blank pages of my notebook served as a stark reminder of the power he had over me, and in that moment, I understood the depth of his allure and the undeniable impact he had on those in his orbit. As the weight of the realisation settled upon me, a mixture of embarrassment and fascination flooded my senses.

An overwhelming wave of panic washed over me as I sat there, paralysed by the realisation of my negligence. The enchantment that had held me captive for the past twenty minutes shattered, leaving me vulnerable to the harsh reality that awaited. Candice, my ever-watchful colleague, would undoubtedly discover my failure, and her disapproval would be swift and scathing.

My heart pounded against my ribcage like a drum, its frantic beats mirroring the chaotic thoughts racing through my mind. How could I have allowed this to happen? The dream of advancing my career, of one day becoming a renowned journalist, now seemed like an elusive mirage, fading away before my very eyes.

Self-recrimination echoes through my thoughts like a relentless chorus. The weight of my own stupidity bore down upon me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I berated myself for succumbing to the allure of Brian's presence, for allowing it to eclipse my responsibilities. The consequences of my foolishness loomed over me, casting a shadow of doubt and regret.

The sound of Candice's voice calling my name snapped me back to the present. Her stern tone pierced through the haze of my thoughts, jolting me to action. It was time to face the consequences, to confront my failure head-on, and accept the repercussions of my actions.

I watched as Candice approached with an expectant expression. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach, knowing all too well what awaited me. With every step she took, my heart sank deeper into the depths of remorse.

Candice's sharp eyes scanned the notebook in front of me, her gaze narrowing in disbelief. The realisation hit her like a tidal wave as she noticed the pages, void of any lead reflections from the interview. A mix of disappointment and fury twisted her features, and I braced myself for the inevitable scolding.

The room seemed to hush, the air thick with uncomfortable tension, as Candice's voice boomed through an angry whisper. "What on Earth is this, Y/N?" A collective murmur rippled through the small bunches of people that surrounded us as curious eyes turned toward our direction.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, my gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet the accusing eyes of my colleagues. Shame wrapped around me like a suffocating shroud, tightening with every word that spilled from Candice's lips. Her reprimand echoed in the silence, a blistering reminder of my failure, and I swallowed hard, my throat constricted by a mixture of guilt and embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry, Candice. I got caught up in the moment, and I just... completely forgot to write anything down, I promise it won't happen agai—"

"You were given a responsibility, and you let it slip away because you were too mesmerised by the answers? This is not acceptable, do you understand how poorly this reflects on our team?" Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was laced with irritation.

"I know, I'm truly sorry. It was a lapse of judgement."

Candice's scolding continued, her words filled with a mixture of reprimand and concern for my professional growth. The weight of her disappointment pressed upon me, intensifying my remorse.

A peculiar sensation tingled at the back of my neck whilst my supervisor continued to reprimand me in the corner of this studio, drawing my gaze elsewhere and hoping she would stop soon so I could just go home and bury myself in the covers of my bed. I met the intense gaze of Brian May, who hadn't left yet, much to my demise, and watched the scene unfold from a distance. His eyes held a mix of curiosity and intrigue, remaining an observer, captivated by the drama playing out before him.

It was a moment of profound humiliation, and yet, there was something strangely captivating about the way Brian watched. His silent presence added an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. It was as if he recognised the vulnerability within me, the weight of my mistake, and found a fascination in the spectacle.

As Candice walked away, her words lingered in the air, mingling with a mix of determination and self-reflection. I felt the stinging of tears in my eyes from the sheer embarrassment of my lack of competence. I rested my elbows on my knees, bringing the notebook up to my face and burying my head in it in shame.

I stayed there for as long as I could, not wanting to meet the judgemental gazes from those around me, and it had cleared out somewhat by the time I decided to actually stand up and gather my things. The bottle of water I had with me had been completely dried out from the constant sips I had to take whilst watching Brian's interview. My mouth was dry from Candice's scolding, and I whined under my breath just from the thought of anything else going wrong today.

It can't have been that far after four in the afternoon when I was collecting myself in the hallway of the studio, preparing to get a taxi back to the Euro so I could fuck off home and never emerge from my bed ever again. But before I could make my hasty exit, a soft voice called out, interrupting my thoughts.

"Excuse me?" the voice said, drawing my attention. I looked up, my eyes still slightly watery from the threats of tears, only to lock gazes with the very person who had inadvertently disrupted my responsibilities. It was none other than Brian himself, standing a few paces away, holding out the empty notebook towards me. "Sorry to disturb you, but, uh, you left this in the studio."

Confusion mingled with surprise as I furrowed my eyebrows, my emotions still raw from the earlier events. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously reached out, accepting the notebook from him. My voice quivered slightly as I murmured my thanks, unable to meet his gaze for more than a fleeting moment.

Concern etched across his face, Brian leaned against the wall, hands tucked casually in his pockets. The audacity of his next words caught me off guard, a mixture of bluntness and subtle insult towards Candice.

"Are you alright?" he inquired, his tone laced with genuine curiosity. "I couldn't help but notice you being lectured by an old sow earlier."

My surprise turned into astonishment, my eyes widening at his audacious remark. The unexpected camaraderie in his words momentarily eased the weight on my shoulders, and I met his gaze, finding solace in his directness.

"I... I'll be fine," I replied, my voice steadier now. "Just one of those days, you know?"

Brian's expression softened, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The air between us crackled with a silent understanding, as if he knew the struggled that came with navigating the industry.

"May I ask what happened?" Brian inquired, his gaze fixed on me. The mere sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, leaving me at a loss for words. How was I supposed to hold a conversation with him when his presence alone had already rendered me speechless? I felt the weight of inadequacy pressing on me, threatening to unravel any semblance of coherence I had left.

It's nothing," I managed to squeak out, my eyes involuntarily darting downwards to take in the details of his attire illuminated by the strip lights in the hallway. "Just some... technical issues," I lied, my voice betraying the fabricated story. I couldn't let him know that I had been so foolish as to let his allure overpower my ability to do my job.

"Oh," he responded, briefly averting his gaze. "So, why were you being told off? That's what it seemed like, anyway." He shrugged, shifting his weight on his feet.

A blush crept across my face, and I found myself unable to meet his eyes, instead fixating on the flawlessly polished surface of his shoes. "I... I never wrote down the notes I needed to..." I mumbled, embarrassment washing over me once more. "By this time tomorrow, I'll probably be back in assistant mode, fetching coffee for everyone..." My voice trailed off, the reality of my prediction causing it to waver with distress. I felt the sting of tears welling up again, and I averted my gaze, desperately seeking solace in a different direction.

The internal self-deprecating thoughts echoes within me. How unprofessional, crying in front of Brian May. I couldn't help but feel the weight of my own perceived inadequacy crushing my spirit.

"Hey... I'm sure that won't happen," he smoothly assured me, his voice like velvet. In that moment, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, sending a thrilling shockwave through my entire being. Turning my head, I found myself face to face with Brian, his hand extending toward me, offering a pristine handkerchief. His warm, non-judgemental eyes conveyed a silent reassurance as he lightly waved the handkerchief, inviting me to accept it. With a shaky hand, I reached out and took it from him, mustering a feeble thank you. Although my mind should have been consumed with thoughts of potential demotion, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of using Brian May's handkerchief, to dry the tears over something he had inadvertently caused.

A rueful laugh escaped my lips. "No, it probably will happen," I nodded, my gaze fixed straight ahead. "It's a joke."

Brian let out a slight huff, as if in agreement, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms. He allowed a pause to hang in the air before speaking again. "Where are you staying? You can't be that old, I don't want you to be wandering about on your own."

"I am twenty-two, thank you very much," I chuckled. "I was supposed to be at the hotel down the street, but... after everything that's happened today, I think it's best if I just get on the Euro and head home," I replied with a somewhat wistful smile. "I don't really want to be around everyone right now. I can already imagine the judgemental looks they'll be throwing my way all night." I let out a sigh of resignation.

"Is it really that bad?" Brian raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You have no idea..." I trailed off, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

"I don't know about that," he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I toured the world with three other drama queens and had to spend nights in hotels with them," he said, giving me a pointed look.

I met his gaze with a shy yet genuine expression, a smile slowly spreading across my face. "You've got me there."

"What was it that you were supposed to take notes of, if you don't mind me asking?" he inquired curiously.

"My job was to note down your answers in shorthand," I replied, a hint of disappointment still lingering in my expression as I recalled the embarrassment of my failure. "For the British papers," I shrugged.

He hummed, his gaze shifting as he pondered for a moment. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope as his eyes seemed to briefly sweep over me, but I dismissed it as mere wishful thinking.

"Well..." he began, his voice dropping slightly lower, his eyes still locked with mine, a mischievous glimmer dancing in their depths. "I have an idea that might just solve your predicament."

My heart skipped a beat as I waited, captivated by his words and the magnetic pull of his presence. There was an unmistakable air of authority and confidence about him, and allure that made it impossible to resist.

"Why don't you come back to my hotel with me?" he suggested, his voice laced with an irresistible charm. "We can sit down, go through the interview together, and you can take your notes directly from me. That way, you won't have to worry about losing your job over a simple technical glitch."

His proposition hung in the air, tantalising and daring. The thought of being alone with him, in the intimate setting of his hotel room, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine, despite the lingering knowledge of the committed relationship that was awaiting him back in London. It was an offer I couldn't refuse, despite the lingering doubts and fears that swirled in my mind.

His gaze held mine, an unspoken challenge conveyed through the subtle arch of his eyebrow. He exuded a domineering aura, a man who was accustomed to taking charge and getting what he desired, when he desired. And in that moment, I couldn't deny the thrilling temptation of surrendering to his authority, even if it meant stepping into the unprofessional, and the unknown.

I took a deep breath, my voice barely a whisper as I mustered the courage to respond. "Alright," I acquiesced, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'll come with you."

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips, a silent victory that revealed his satisfaction at having ensnared me in his web. With a gesture of his hand, he beckoned me to follow, his subtle dominance asserting itself even in this small act.

The ride to his hotel was a tense affair, filled with a mix of anticipation and self-doubt. I settled into the plush leather seat of the car, my palms slightly clammy as I clasped my notebook tightly, its empty pages a stark reminder of my shortcomings.

Brian sat beside me, radiating an air of casual elegance as he reclined comfortably, his gaze occasionally flickering towards me. The silence hung heavily in the air, pregnant with unspoken desires and uncharted territories. It was as if the car itself had transformed into a cocoon, isolating us from the outside world and intensifying the connection between us.

He broke the silence, his voice low and velvety, filled with a hint of weariness. "You know, these press dates can become quite tiresome after a while," he confessed, his tone tinged with a touch of frustration. "Having to repeat the same anecdotes, answer the same questions—it can feel like a never-ending cycle."

I listened intently, my heart aching with a mixture of sympathy and guilt. His dedication to his craft was evident, yet here he was, taking the time to accommodate my incompetence, going above and beyond to salvage my position.

The weight of his sacrifice settled on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for the burden he had shouldered on my behalf. A subtle pang of remorse washed over me, mingling with the lingering excitement that coursed through my veins.

"You didn't have to do this," I murmured softly, my voice tinged with gratitude and regret. "I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused."

He turned his gaze towards me, his eyes filled with understanding and something deeper, something that hinted at a hidden power dynamic between us. "Sometimes, we all need a little help," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of command. "And besides, it gives me an opportunity to spend some time with someone who appreciates the nuances of my work."

His words hung in the air, charged with unspoken implications. The car journey continued, each passing moment bringing us closer to his hotel, to an encounter that held the potential to blur the boundaries between professional obligations and personal desires.

As the city lights streaked past us in a mesmerising blur, a wave of apprehension washed over me. The weight of potential consequences bore down heavily, my mind conjuring images of disapproving glares and lectures from Candice. The thought of her disapproval and the potential damage to my professional reputation loomed like a dark cloud over this impulsive decision. But also... there was something in the back of mind that found that danger enticing.

I glanced at Brian, his profile illuminated by the passing lights, a captivating blend of charisma and enigma. The subtle shift of his features hinted at the complexities that lay beneath the surface. Yes, he was a renowned musician, an idol to many, but he was also a man with his own commitments and responsibilities.

My thoughts veered towards Candice's hypothetical reprimands, reminding me of the line I was treading. I wrestled with the inner turmoil, questioning my judgement, and yet, the allure of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, the chance to glean insights from the man himself, called to me like a siren's song. The boundaries of reason blurred, and the forbidden fruit of possibility dangled temptingly before me.

I couldn't deny the excitement that coursed through my veins, even if we were simply going to talk about the interview. But something told me that he wouldn't have invited me to his hotel room if he only wanted to repeat what he'd told Isabelle. But reality, too, had its grip on my conscience. Brian's relationship status, thought not conventional in the traditional sense, added another layer of complexity.

The conflict within me intensified, the battle between reason and desire waged in my mind. And as the car whisked us closer to the hotel, I knew that a pivotal moment awaited me on the other side of those doors. A moment that would test the limits of my self-control and challenge the very fabric of my professional identity.

As the car pulled up in front of the grand hotel entrance, I couldn't help but be awestruck by its opulence. Towering pillars adorned with intricate carvings framed the entrance, while a cascading waterfall nearby added a touch of serenity to the bustling city surroundings. The lobby, with its marble floors and sparkling chandeliers, exuded an air of sophistication and exclusivity.

Brian stepped to get out of the car, his presence commanding attention as he glanced back at me, his eyes inviting me to join him on this adventure. I took a deep breath, my heart fluttering in anticipation, and followed suit.

The moment our eyes met, a magnetic connection sparked between us. A subtle exchange of glances spoke volumes, conveying unspoken desires and hidden depths. It was in those stolen moments that the tension between us grew, the unspoken understanding that something powerful was unfolding.

As we stepped into the lavish lobby, the plush furnishings and hushed atmosphere enveloped us. Brian's hand brushed lightly against my lower back, a simple gesture that sent shivers down my spine. The touch was fleeting yet deliberate, a tantalising hint of the electricity crackling in the air.

We made our way to the elevator, managing to be inconspicuous to the very few people who were actually in the lobby, the soft chime signalled its arrival. The enclosed space became our private sanctuary, the air thick with anticipation. The mirrored walls reflected our proximity, capturing the unspoken intensity that hung in the air.

In the confined space, Brian's scent enveloped me, a heady combination of musky cologne and a hint of adventure. Every moment felt deliberate, every breath carried a weight of anticipation. Our eyes locked in the reflection, mirroring a depth of connection that defied words.

As the elevator ascended, our proximity grew, the space between us closing with each passing floor. Brian's voice, laced with a husky undertone, broke the silence. "I must say, the view from my room is quite breathtaking," he remarked, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

I leaned in slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can only imagine," I replied, the innuendo hanging in the air, adding a subtle layer of flirtation to our conversation.

A playful smile tugged at the corners of Brian's lips, his eyes holding that same mischievous glint as earlier. His hand casually brushed against mine as the elevator came to a halt, the touch electrifying and tantalisingly brief. The doors slid open, revealing a corridor bathed in soft, warm lighting.

We walked side by side, the click of our footsteps echoing in the hushed ambiance. The anticipation between us was palpable, a dance of desire and restraint. The subtle glances exchanged spoke volumes, carrying a shared secret that only we understood.

Arriving at his room, Brian fumbled for the key, his hand brushing against mine once again as he unlocked the door. The room's interior exuded luxury, with plush furnishings and a panoramic view of the city skyline. The atmosphere was charged with an undeniable energy, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what was to come.

Brian motioned for me to take a seat on the plush sofa, while he made his way to a side table adorned with crystal glasses and a sparkling bottle of water. His movements were controlled, each action carrying a subtle authority that commanded attention.

He poured a glass of water, the liquid cascading effortlessly into the glass. With an almost calculated grace, he handed it to me, his fingers grazing mine ever so slightly. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I found myself captivated by his commanding presence.

Settling into a nearby armchair, Brian's gaze fixed upon me with an intensity that made my heart race. He picked up my notebook, his fingers tracing the empty pages as he glanced back at me, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and dominance.

"Let's go over the interview, shall we?" he suggested, his voice laced with authority. I nodded, my voice momentarily escaping me in the face of his dominant aura.

As we delved into the conversation, his proximity grew, our arms occasionally brushing against each other's as we gestured or reached for the notebook. Each touch was a subtle reminder of his control and my vulnerability.

His gaze never wavered, his eyes piercing into mine with a sense of ownership. He dissected each question and response with precision, his tone firm yet enticing. The atmosphere crackled with an undeniable tension.

Brian's hand occasionally found its way to the small of my back, a subtle gesture of possession that left me breathless and wanting more.

As we concluded our review of the interview, an unspoken understanding passed between us. Brian's gaze held a hint of satisfaction, as if pleased with my progress under his guidance. I couldn't deny the thrilling allure of his dominance, the way he effortlessly took charge and led me down a path of unexplored sensuality, purely in the way he spoke and answered the questions.

Once we'd finished, a sense of relief washed over me. I placed my pencil down on the coffee table, grateful for the notes I now had to present to Candice. But little did I know that the night was far from over, and the dynamics between Brian and I were about to take a new turn.

As I sat back on the sofa, taking a sip of water from the glass Brian had graciously given me, he caught me off guard with an unexpected question.

"Why don't you ask me about my relationship?" His words hung in the air, laden with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

I nearly choked on my water, my eyes widening in surprise. His question was so sudden and unexpected that I struggled to find the right response. "W... What?" I stammered, my voice betraying my confusion as I carefully set the glass back on the coffee table.

"Everyone else does. Why don't you?" Brian rose from his seat, striding over to the armchair across the room. He reached up, gracefully removing his navy-blue blazer and draping it over the back of the chair. His movements were confident and self-assured, his hands casually returning to his pockets.

I watched him in awe, captivated by his every gesture. The way he carried himself, the slight tilt of his head, the way he rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms—each detail seemed to heighten his allure. His hair, with its enchanting allure, seemed to beckon to me, and I couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull toward him, yet again.

Feeling a heat rise in my cheeks, I cleared my throat, crossing my legs in an attempt to steady myself. I hoped he wouldn't notice the effect he had on me, even though the atmosphere had been charged with flirtation throughout our time together thus far. Deep down, a small voice whispered that it was all in my head, that Brian was simply being accommodating.

"I, uh..." I began, my voice slightly shaky as I took another sip of water, hoping to steady my nerves. "Well, I don't see why I should ask about your relationship," I replied, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the perplexed undertone in my voice. "It's really nobody's business, right?" I added, my brows furrowing.

Brian's lips curled into a partly playful, partly impressed, smile, and he moved closer to me, now stood right in front of me, like he was when we first met eyes earlier that afternoon. His eyes locked steadily onto mine. The air once again crackled with anticipation and unspoken feelings.

"That's true," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But sometimes, it's intriguing to delve into the depths of someone's personal life, don't you think? To understand their desires, their secrets..."

His words hung in the air, charged with an undeniable seductive energy.

"So, I'm going to ask you, Y/N..." Brian's voice drew me in, his words laced with a magnetic allure. He moved away slightly, only to settle beside me on the sofa, his body angled toward mine. I couldn't help but feel a surge of prospect as I realised that he had remembered my name, speaking it for the first time since he'd met me.

"What about you?" his voice was a seductive whisper, gently coaxing me to reveal the depths of my own desires. My breath caught in my throat, the intensity of his presence almost overwhelming.

"What about me?" I managed to whisper, my voice betraying a mix of nervousness and curiosity.

Brian let out a low chuckle, a sound that sent a rush of heat coursing through me. As he shifted his position, resting his arm casually across the back of the sofa, he mirrored the way he had sat with Isabelle during the interview. But this time, his proximity to me was closer, his energy more focused. It was as if the space between us had become charged with an unspoken understanding.

His hand reached out, deliberately smoothing over the slight ruffle in my black skirt. The touch was gentle, but its intention was unmistakable. I couldn't help but feel the electricity that surged through me as his fingertips lingered on my knee. A wave of desire washed over me, causing my thighs to clench and a quiver to run through the depths of my being. I briefly closed my eyes, my senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating tension that enveloped us.

But my eyes snapped back open, meeting his gaze when he finally responded. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation, and I hung onto his every word, eager to unravel the depths of this enigmatic man before me.

Brian's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as he locked his gaze with mine. He had seen through my feeble attempt to divert the conversation and now he was toying with me, like a skilled predator playing with its prey.

"You know, Y/N," he began, his voice dripping with subtle amusement, "I can't help but wonder if those technical difficulties were just an excuse. Perhaps there's something else that prevented you from taking those notes." His words hung in the air, laden with implication.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and fascination. How did he manage to see through my façade so effortlessly? It was as if he possessed an uncanny ability to unravel the truths hidden beneath the layers of my carefully constructed lies.

"You're quite perceptive," I admitted, my voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "There might have been... other distractions that prevented me from fulfilling my duties."

Brian's lips curled into a knowing smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His hand, still resting on my knee, exerted a subtle pressure, a silent reminder of the power dynamics at play. It was a gesture that sent a jolt coursing through me, making me acutely aware of his commanding presence.

"Well, Y/N," he murmured, his voice lowering again, "if you were indeed distracted, perhaps its time we address that distraction head-on."

I swallowed hard, my heart once again pounding in my chest. It was as if the world around us had faded into the background, leaving the two of us locked in this exhilarating dance of desire and power. I was drawn to him, unable to resist him, and he knew it.

"What do you suggest, Brian?" I exhaled, my voice a velvet whisper that teased the air. I teetered on the precipice of desire, my every fibre ready to succumb to his captivating dominance, yearning to explore the uncharted depths of passion that enticed us both.

His piercing gaze intensified, a searing ember of authority glowing in his eyes, beckoning me further into his world. "Y/N," he purred, his voice a sultry blend of command and invitation, "Perhaps it's time we plunge into the depths of these tantalising distractions. It would be such a waste to let them slip through our fingers, wouldn't it?"

He meticulously grazed his teeth against his plump lower lip, his predatory eyes descending upon my body with a swift hunger. "Are you seeing somebody?"

I took a deep breath, my eyes locked on his hand resting on my knee. It felt like an anchor, grounding me in the midst of the swirling emotions that Brian had effortlessly stirred within me. I shook my head slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. "No..."

His grip on my knee tightened ever so slightly, a subtle display of dominance that that sent a jolt of excitement coursing through me. Tense, the weight of his question hanging in the silence. Brian's gaze continued to bore into mine, his eyes filled with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

"But I'm assuming you have," he prodded gently, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and desire. As he spoke, his hand shifted, his fingers tracing a path of electrifying warmth up my thigh. Every inch of my skin burned under his touch, igniting a fire deep within me that I struggled to contain.

My thoughts became hazy, a cocktail of longing and forbidden fantasies swirling in my mind. The allure of Brian's commanding presence was overwhelming, captivating me in ways I couldn't resist. Rationality wavered as I found myself yearning for his dominance, for him to physically take control and guide me into uncharted territory.

I mustered the strength to respond, my voice trembling with a potent mixture of apprehension and desire. "Yes," I finally confessed, my admission punctuated by a shuddering breath. The confession hung in the air, a tangible invitation for Brian to delve deeper into the depths of my past and desires.

"Of course, that was a silly question for me to ask you." Brian's laughter, a melodic symphony, echoed in the room, mingling with the charged atmosphere that enveloped us. That mischievous glint in his eyes danced with a hint of desire as he playfully taunted me.

"A pretty thing like you... No way a man hasn't approached you. No way you can't have experienced such things that come with it." His words, dripping with seductive confidence, sent shivers down my spine, awakening a dormant fire within me. As he continued, his hand embarked on a daring expedition, traversing the landscape of my thigh with deliberate intent. The tantalising proximity of his touch ignited a flame of exhilaration, intensifying his charm.

"Is this okay?"

Caught in the magnetic field of his presence, my breath hitched. His audacity, his audacious exploration of my boundaries, both thrilled and unnerved me. His question, whispered like a forbidden secret, hung in the air, enticing and provocative.

My gaze met his, locked in a fierce battle of desire and restraint. His head tilted ever so slightly, offering a glimpse into a world of untamed passion that lay just beyond my peripheral vision. It was a challenge, a temptation I couldn't ignore.

"Yes..." I gasped, a delicate confession of my yearning. The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of our shared anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken desire that had been crackling above us since he asked me if I had a name back at the studio.

With every fibre of my being attuned to his touch, I met his piercing gaze, a hunger ignited within myself. The anticipation hung thick and heady in the air, as my body responded to his unspoken desires, yearning for the raw intensity that lay just beyond our fingertips.

His hand, once resting on the back of the sofa, now ventured into the depths of my hair, fingers dancing through the strands with an almost possessive tenderness. My breath hitched, a mixture of excitement and anxiety coursing through me veins.

His voice, a velvety caress, laced with his characteristic authority, penetrated the atmosphere. "You said you were twenty-two?" he asked, his touch a sensory symphony that sent shivers cascading down my spine to the fullest. I nodded, my lips instinctively finding refuge between my teeth, an unconscious response to the mounting tension that enveloped us.

"So young and full of life," he mused, his words a tantalising invitation into a world of hidden desires. The weight of his statement settled upon us, passing through us like a current. "You do understand what I'm trying to do right now, don't you?"

I knew exactly what he was attempting to do, and the thought alone could have caused me to climax on his sofa right then and there.

A barely contained breath escaped my lips, as I chuckled and shifted my body to face him fully as an answer. The crossing of my legs changed, creating an open pathway to explore our proximity. As if attuned to my movements, Brian's hand left my leg momentarily, only to reclaim its rightful place on my thigh, a possessive declaration of his intent.

Curiosity burned within me, emboldened by his unabashed dominance. "Do you do this a lot?" I ventured, resting my arm on the back of the sofa, a subtle invitation for him to delve deeper into the intricacies of his world. The revelation of his true intentions liberated me, allowing me to respond in kind, the allure of the forbidden dance consuming my thoughts.

Brian seemed a little taken aback by my question, but his initial surprise quickly dissolved into a low chuckle, a hint of intrigue glinting in his eyes. His gaze momentarily shifted to his hand, which had settled on the back of my thigh, his thumb tracing tantalising circles against the soft skin, exerting a gentle tug.

"I wouldn't say a lot... but every now and then, I stumble upon someone I really, really like," he confessed, his voice descending to a husky whisper as his eyes flickered up to meet mine. "Someone I simply can't resist," he added, his words resonating with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "And you, my dear, are the most captivating creature I've encountered thus far."

His compliments reverberated within me, causing me to sink deeper into the plush embrace of the sofa, my face suffused with a bright crimson blush. "Am I?" A small smirk danced on my lips as I raised an eyebrow, my inquiry carrying a weight that went beyond the surface. Unintentionally, I had invoked the presence of Anita, his partner, and now the unspoken tension lingered between us.

His eyes narrowed, the spark of recognition igniting in his gaze. But instead of letting the unspoken words bloom, he chuckled once again, his grip on my thigh tightening with a tantalising force. In one swift motion, he pulled me forward, until I found myself ensconced upon his lap. The unexpectedness of the action electrified the air, sending waves of desire coursing through me, my core pulsating in eager anticipation, yearning for the layers of clothing to vanish, to feel the raw heat of his skin against mine.

"You're asking too many questions, darling," he mused, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and desire. His hands boldly found their place at my hips, sliding beneath the thin fabric of my blazer, their touch sending a jolt of electricity through my entire being.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I playfully retorted, "I thought that was my job," my lashes fluttering in a seductive display. Yet, my attempt at teasing seemed to have an unexpected effect on Brian. His hands clamped around me with a vice-like grip, the sensation of his fingers pressing through the fabric of my skirt sending a thrilling jolt through my body.

A low, almost predatory growl rumbled from his throat as he spoke, his voice a dangerous blend of desire and authority. "You're a bit mouthy, aren't you?" he murmured, his words laced with a hint of reprimand. "Just as I thought you were so innocent... sitting there on that stool with this little skirt almost exposing you to the whole world, not knowing a thing about it..." With each word, he pulled me down onto him, the force of his action making it clear that he was taking control. "Thinking I didn't notice that you were staring at me the whole time," he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "And here you are, now sat on my lap, all shaky and needy."

His gaze roamed over my face, observing my every reaction to his sudden shift in demeanour. This was precisely the dynamic I had been seeking, a captivating dance between dominance and submission. The air hummed with an electrifying tension as I found myself entranced by him, surrendering to the intoxicating mix of vulnerability and desire that pulsed between us.

Brian's subtle manoeuvre in his lap caused me to instinctively cling onto his shoulders, seeking stability in the midst of escalating desire. His self-satisfied smirk revealed his pleasure at my reaction, fuelling the fire that raged between us. "There's a few things I want to go through with you before we go any further, sweetheart," he hummed, his hand firmly grasping the back of my neck, drawing me tantalisingly close to his face, our lips hovering inches apart. The anticipation was palpable, my breath hitching in anticipating of his next words. "Have you every been with anyone older before?"

I exhaled softly against his mouth, my eyes half-lidded with a mixture of nervousness and longing. I shook my head slightly, my hands finding solace in the firmness of his shoulders. "Maybe, like, a thirty-year-old, but..." My voice trailed off, the unspoken admission hanging in the air.

"Nobody as old as I am?" he finished my sentence with a knowing smile, fully aware of my unspoken answer. I nodded, my teeth earnestly biting down on my bottom lip, a nervous habit that betrayed my inner turmoil.

"Well, Y/N, I should warn you," he began, his hips abruptly surging against mine, stealing the air from my lungs. The intensity of his touch sent chills coursing through my body. "As an almost-fifty-one-year-old who knows what he's doing, I can guarantee that you will cum at least five times tonight," he purred, his fingers encircling my throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. "And with any luck, you'll struggle to walk out of that door in the morning."

With a swift, decisive movement, our lips finally connected, a torrent of pent-up desire exploding within me. The metaphorical fireworks ignited, their radiant bursts cascading through my body, kindling a symphony of tingles and shivers that coursed from my stomach to my throbbing core. The long-awaited contact between our lips unleashed a tempestuous passion that left me yearning for more.

"Stand up for Daddy," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of desire and possessiveness. The unexpected pet name he bestowed upon himself sent a surge of excitement through me. It was a name I had imagined slipping from my own lips, and now that he had uttered it, I felt an intoxicating thrill. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine for a brief moment. "You don't mind that, do you?" he asked, his grip on my throat loosening. Even in the midst of our escalating passion, Brian remained considerate and a gentleman.

"I'm more than okay with it," I replied, my voice laced with eagerness. I nodded, a spark of anticipation igniting within me. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he bit down on the lower one, an expression that hinted at the wild desires swirling in his mind.

"I knew you would be perfect for me, you naughty little thing..." he growled, his words laced with a primal hunger. He pressed his lips against mine one last time, a fierce and demanding kiss that left me breathless. With deliberate yet cautious movements, he guided me to stand in front of him. His legs were spread out, and his hands firmly settled on my waist, grounding me in his commanding presence.

"Let's get those clothes off of you," he breathed, his voice husky with anticipation. Sitting up, he leaned back slightly, creating a space for me to step between his legs. His hands roamed my waist, teasing an exploring, as he revelled in the sight before him. "I bet you look mesmerising, you sweet thing," he murmured, his words stirring a fire deep within me.

With Brian's guidance, I slipped off my blazer, letting it fall carelessly beside him on the sofa. My attire consisted of a form-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt, neatly tucked into a sleek black skirt. The fabric of the shirt clung to my body, accentuating every curve and contour, and I could sense Brian's gaze lingering on the enticing view before him.

"Keep going, love," he smoothly instructed, his voice laced with command. With his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa and his other hand resting suggestively over his own clothed arousal, he watched intently as I continued to undress, gradually revealing more of myself.

I slowly unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt, exposing a teasing glimpse of the soft skin nestled between my breasts. The fabric parted, revealing a tantalising V-neckline that halted just at the beginning of my cleavage, leaving much to the imagination. Brian's eyes darkened with desire, his focus fixed on the seductive reveal.

Encouraged by his unwavering gaze, I continued to undress, peeling the shirt from my body with deliberate grace. Each movement involved in unzipping and shimmying down my skirt was accompanied a subtle sway of my hips, a deliberate invitation to indulge in the forbidden desires that simmered between us. The shirt slipped off of my shoulders, pooling at my feet, leaving me standing before him in nothing but my underwear, vulnerable and exposed.

Brian's hungry eyes drank in the sight, savouring the contours of my body outlined by the delicate lingerie that adorned it. His breath hitched, and a primal hunger flashed across his face.

"My, my, my..." he mused, his voice a low, throaty rumble. Leaning forward, he focused his gaze on my chest, his eyes lingering on the delicate white lace bra that adorned me, before trailing down to the matching pair of underwear that concealed the very essence of my being—a part of me yearning to be devoured by Brian's primal desire.

A subtle flush of embarrassment tinged my skin, blending with a tingling sense of prospect as I stood before Brian, acutely aware of his gaze that stripped me with its intensity. It was a an undeniable turn-on, this vulnerable exposure, yet I couldn't help but wonder if he desired something more from me.

"Turn around," he commanded, his tone blunt, his finger tracing an authoritative arc in the air. Without hesitation, I obeyed, pivoting silently on my heel until my back was completely exposed to him. And then, in a split second, a fierce sting erupted across my backside, the resounding slap from Brian's hand reverberating through the room. A gasp escaped my lips, mingling with a mixture of surprise, excitement, and a hint of pain.

Brian rose from the sofa, his presence expanding behind me like a towering shadow, and with a firm grip on the band of my underwear, he yanked me back against him. I could feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing forcefully against my backside, the bulge in his trousers growing with each passing moment. Lowering his head, he released a low growl that sent a shiver up through my core, while his other hand firmly grasped my head, tilting it to the side, exposing my vulnerability.

"Good little girls answer their Daddy," he whispered, his voice a seductive blend of dominance of desire. His hand slid around my lower stomach, applying pressure that coerced me to press my backside more firmly into him. "Don't they?"

A gasp hitched in my throat, a mixture of shock and exhilaration coursing through my veins as Brian spoke to me in such a degrading yet intoxicating manner. "Y-yes..."

"Yes, what?" he demanded, his fingers intertwining with my hair, his fists closing with a possessive grip as his lips brushed against the sensitive shell of my ear. "If you want even the slightest taste of the sweet release you crave, you must address me accordingly, little one."

A quivering smile danced upon my lips, an eagerness to comply swirling within me. "Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he praised, his words hot against my ear, his breath fanning the flames of my desire. Resting the side of his head against mine, he directed his gaze downward, his hand venturing lower, ghosting over my core, teasing and tantalising. "I can't wait to feel your cunt wrap around my cock... I bet you're so tight and warm for me," he murmured, a promise that elicited a suppressed whimper from my lips. "Oh, the thought of that excites you, doesn't it?" he tested, his voice wicked.

"Yes, Daddy," I replied, my voice trembling with a potent mixture of obedience and unquenchable longing.

He chuckled, a sound tinged with satisfaction and amusement at my swift adaptation to our dynamic. "That's a good girl," he breathed against the sensitive skin of my neck, his lips claiming me with a fervent, sloppy kiss before abruptly releasing me, leaving me yearning for his touch and craving more.

"Stand back a little," Brian's voice commanded, an authoritative tone that brooked no resistance. I complied, taking a step back, my anticipation mounting as he took control. With a swift movement, he spun me around, his hands asserting their presence on my body, yet withholding any intimate touch. The air crackled with an electric charge, heavy with unspoken desire.

"No touching until I say," he declared, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and anticipation. Stepping back himself, he lowered his hands to his belt, his gaze never wavering from mine as he skilfully unbuckled and unzipped his trousers. The sound of the metal against metal reverberated in the room, heightening the intensity of the moment. His trousers cascaded down to his knees, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his bare flesh, while his shirt billowed around him, hinting at the hidden secrets it concealed. He stepped out of the confines of his restrictive clothes, gracefully kicking them aside, leaving him standing before me in only his partially unbuttoned shirt.

My eyes couldn't help but be drawn downward, magnetically pulled to the sight of his own underwear. His bulge, sizable and still growing, strained against the fabric, a visual testament to the desire that consumed him. Heat flushed through my veins, a mixture of nervous anticipation and a primal hunger to taste him.

"I'm assuming you've given somebody a blowjob before, yes?" Brian's voice cut through the charged silence, his head tilted in a patronizing yet knowing manner. His words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation entwined. He awaited my response, his eyes burning with a mixture of curiosity and desire, never once breaking our unyielding eye contact.

A tremor of excitement coursed through me, mingling with a tinge of apprehension. I nodded, my voice momentarily stolen by the intensity of the moment, my desire to please him amplifying with each passing second.

"Yes, Daddy," I finally managed to respond, the breathless admission hanging in the air, a testament to the intimate encounters of my past.

A predatory smile tugged at the corners of Brian's lips, a gleam of satisfaction illuminating his gaze. The flicker of dominance danced in his eyes as he took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between us. The bulge in his underwear pressed against my senses, a physical manifestation of his hunger and anticipation.

"Good," he murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire.

I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me, and I couldn't help but shuffle side to side to deal with the intense desire to get my hands or my mouth on Brian's arousal, especially when he moved to sit back against the sofa.

"Please can I taste you, Daddy?" I whispered, glancing up at him with an innocent expression.

He hummed, his hand coming down to move some of my hair out of my face. "So good, asking for permission," he praised, lowering his head and biting a little into my shoulder before turning his head and growling back into my ear. "I want you on all-fours, looking up at me with those pretty fucking eyes."

"Yes, Daddy," I moaned just at his response, but was quick to do as I was told, moving back to give myself space to do as I was told, whilst he got to work in removing his underwear from his body. I arched my back, showing off the round of my curves for him like I noticed he enjoyed so much. He took his length his hand, giving it a few strokes before shuffling forward a few inches. I couldn't stop staring at its appearance, pulsating, red, veiny, and everything I dreamed it would be. I took the hint and propped myself up on one hand, using the other to move my hair from my face, before finally leaning forward and licking from the base, right up the pronounced vain on his shaft, and up to the tip. I teased him, glancing up at him as I slowly flicked my tongue over the redness. I could taste the saltiness of his pre-cum already, which only encouraged me to keep going. But apparently, the teasing wasn't enough.

"Oh, you don't want to tease Daddy, little one," he drawled, one hand coming behind my head to tangle his fingers once again in my hair. "I have to feel your mouth all over my cock, alright?" His natural dominance was toned back, and I could tell that he was testing where my comfort level was. But I was too far in my comfort zone here. So, I pushed him.

With a mischievous smirk, I only wrapped my lips around his tip, sucking ever so slightly.

"You really want to play games?" He asked with an amused tinge to his voice. He chuckled, right before he pushed my head further down, causing his cock to slide into my mouth and to my throat as far as it could go, a gag automatically sounding from my throat. It made my core throb yet again.

His grip loosened briefly, in order to breathily ask me if this was okay. I hummed around his cock in confirmation, my eyes peering up at him the best they could. Just like that, he knew where my head was at, and his grip resumed, and his hips drew back, just to thrust back again. He showed me – demonstrated – the pace he wanted, and I was obliged to deliver.

Once I had my head bobbing along his shaft how he wanted, my hand wrapped firmly around the base, my gag reflex had been temporarily diverted, but not completely eradicated. Brian, however, smacked my hand away from him, making me keep my hands down on my knees and allow him to force himself however far into my mouth as he wanted.

As my mouth encased the warm length, my own arousal picked back up, feeling myself clenching around nothing and wishing his cock was balls deep inside me. But that only encouraged me to do a better job on him. I found myself moaning as his taste, the way he grunted and breathed above me. I'd never heard anyone sound so fucking beautiful.

"That's it, baby... Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenched in sheer ecstasy. "Let me see that pretty face, Y/N." His request fuelled my desperation and desire to please him. With a whimper, I adjusted my position slightly, ensuring that my movements on his cock remained relentless, my lips tightly sealed around him.

As I complied with his command, my eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, aware of the redness that had undoubtedly consumed them. My lips, swollen from our passionate kisses and the way they enveloped him, added to the visual proof of our intense connection. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes, a mix of pleasure, vulnerability, and overwhelming sensations.

However, what truly pushed me to the brink of desperation was the sight of him. He looked like a god, an ethereal being of pleasure and dominance. His hair fell forward, framing his face as he gazed down at me. His mouth was slightly open, allowing soft moans and growls to escape. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, a testament to his state of euphoria. His heavy-lidded eyes exuded a mix of desire and satisfaction, capturing me in a moment of profound intensity.

"Such a beautiful little slut, aren't you?" He sighed, running his hand back through my hair to bunch it up at the back, helping me through my pace. "Yeah... such a good girl for Daddy..." He mumbled, mostly to himself as his eyes looked back at my backside. His free hand reached forward and felt over my curves until he reached his destination, grabbing a handful before lifting and landing his palm against the skin with a forceful smack. It sent me moaning and whimpering yet again, the small sting sending shocks to my arousal and shivers to my skin. He did it again, this time a lot harder. He must have been testing the waters beforehand. I flinched this time, my back arching more.

I whined, the hand that was propping me up gripping into the bedsheets as I tried my very best not to rub my thighs together for friction I so desperately needed. Brian took notice and let go of my hair, pulling his cock from my mouth. A string of saliva still connected us, and my face was completely fucked out.

"Look at you, darling," he purred, taking a hold of my face with one hand and pressing my cheeks together. "You enjoyed having my cock in your mouth, didn't you?" With a deliberate slowness, he traced his thumb over my swollen lower lip, savouring the aftermath of our intimate encounter. It was a silent question, a rhetorical inquiry that required no verbal response. Instead, I responded with a breathless nod, my eyes locked on his, conveying my pleasure and desire.

But in an unexpected twist, his hand swiftly left my lip, and a sharp, stinging sensation erupted on the side of my face. A decent slap, delivered with purpose, but cautiously landed, not giving his all in the event that I wasn't into that kind of treatment. Of course, I would let this man do anything to me.

The impact took me by surprise, integrating with the haze of pleasure. Yet, as quickly as the pain registered, he seized me once again, his grip possessive and firm. His actions were a reminder of his control, a reminder that I existed in this moment solely for his pleasure. It was a moment of sharp contrast, the pain mingling with desire, further fuelling the intensity of our connection. "What did I say about answering Daddy?"

"Yes, Daddy—sorry, Daddy," I breathed out, looking up at him with watery eyes. "Can I have more, Daddy?" I batted my eyelashes.

Releasing his hold on me, he sat forward, his shirt clinging to his body, evidence of the sweat that adorned his skin. With a purposeful motion, he discarded the garment, revealing the glistening contours of his middle-aged physique. Rising to his feet, he positioned himself near the edge of the sofa, his foot resting upon the plush surface for support. His hand encircled his throbbing cock, exerting a firm grip as he glided his fist along its length, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure.

"What are you waiting for? Show me what you're capable of," he commanded, his voice laced with a potent mixture of authority and desire. His invitation beckoned me forward, and without hesitation, I eagerly reattached my mouth to him, my lips enveloping his engorged length. Balancing myself on the edge of the sofa so I could reach him, I rested my hands on the sofa, surrendering to the primal rhythm that coursed through us.

Brian's hand gathered a handful of my hair at the back of my head, ensuring a firm grip as he began to thrust into my mouth with abandon. He paid no mind to the reddened hue of my eyes, nor the cascades of saliva that spilled from my lips, consumed by the raw pleasure that surged between us. Each forceful thrust of his hips sent a jolt of ecstasy through my being, a delicious combination of pleasure and submission. The intensity of our connection intensified, the boundaries of control blurring as we surrendered to our most primal desires.

"Do a good job, and then Daddy will make you cum all over his tongue, okay?" He moaned down at me, making me nod, and whine a muffled "Yes, Daddy," with his cock still shoved in my mouth.

I maintained my position, allowing him to forcefully thrust into my throat, my head held firmly in place by his unyielding grip. I looked up at him through teary eyes, my face glistening with a mixture of saliva and tears, a testament to the depths of pleasure and submission I was experiencing.

The sound of his hissing voice filled the air, blending with his deep groans of satisfaction. "Yes... So perfect," he gasped, overcome by the intense sensation of my mouth enveloping him. The mixture of pain and pleasure, dominance and surrender, fuelled the fiery connection between us, heightening the raw, primal energy of the moment.

I felt his thigh shake beside my head, and he pulled my head all the way down onto his cock, my nose pushing into the mass of pubic hair at the base of his arousal. I let out a heavy breath, closing my eyes and relaxing my throat to allow him to slide down it with ease. Then, without warning, he yanked me back, his cock completely slipping out of my mouth. It was glistening with a mixture of my thickening saliva and his pre-cum, matching with the way my lips sparkled with the same kind of adventure.

Gasping for breath, I found myself being pulled up to my feet by the firm grip of Brian's hand, entwined in my hair. The forceful manner in which he yanked me upright only heightened the intensity of our encounter. Our lips crashed together once again, igniting a wild and insatiable passion that consumed us both.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a raw display of desire, marked by urgency and need. Our mouths melded together in a feverish dance, tongues clashing and intertwining in a desperate battle for dominance. It was as if Brian couldn't get enough of the taste, eagerly seeking to reclaim a trace of himself on my lips.

Every swipe and flick of his tongue against mine sent electric jolts of pleasure surging through my body. The hunger in his kiss matched the fiery desire coursing through my veins, building an intoxicating tension that threatened to consume us both. Our lips and tongues moved in a frenzy, an unspoken declaration of our insatiable lust. It made me wonder what his lips and his tongue would feel like on my aching core.

With one hand wrapped around my throat, he pulled me back enough to speak to me. "Get on the bed for me, love," he demanded softly, letting me go and pushing me slightly in the direction of the bed.

"Yes, Daddy," I obeyed, swiftly turning and heading for the large king-sized bed. I lowered myself onto the sleek silk, my heart pounding in raging lust as my core continued to flutter and tighten at the pure thought of being devoured by Brian. "You sucked Daddy's cock so well, little one," he praised with a patronising flare, as he slowly made his way towards me, closing in on me like I was some sort of prey for the taking. He stopped right in front of me, leaning down so both of his hands were placed flat on the surface of the bed, and his face was mere inches from mine. "Do you think you deserve to have my face buried between your legs, baby?"

His question stirred a whirlwind of sensations within me, causing my entire body to tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. My thighs involuntarily clenched, and a breathy sigh escaped my quivering lips. Brian had a way of rendering me speechless, making it nearly impossible to form coherent words as I struggled to catch my breath against his intoxicating lips.

"So precious. I get you this hot, you can't even speak," he hummed, amusement dancing in his voice. One hand found its way back to my throat, asserting his dominance over me. His thumb grazed over my lower lip, teasing it down and allowing it to spring back against my teeth. Leaning closer, he guided me down onto my back, his presence looming over me like a commanding giant.

Once he fully hovered above me, his aura radiating power and desire, he whispered with a menacing grunt that sent shivers down my spine. His words held a primal hunger, a promise of untamed pleasure.

"Would you like Daddy to taste your sweet pussy, darling?"

The question enough made me writhe a little under him, and I whined a small "Yes please, Daddy" up at him, making him chuckle and shoot me that sexy smile of his.

"Stay there," he whispered, his voice laced with a commanding edge. With a swift motion, he pulled himself up to his feet, his strong hands gripping my ankles firmly. I felt myself being effortlessly dragged to the edge of the bed, my legs hanging over the edge. The anticipation prickled across my skin as he took a moment to appraise me, his eyes roaming hungrily over my half-naked form.

His fingers hooked into the band of my underwear, and in one fluid motion, he tugged them down my legs, leaving me completely bare from the waist down. The sudden exposure left me feeling vulnerable, every inch of my body open and ready for his intimate exploration. I could feel the cool air caress my heated skin, heightening my senses and intensifying the anticipation that pulsed through me.

His touch ignited a fiery sensation across my skin as he parted my legs, positioning my knees closer to my chest. The intimate vulnerability of my exposed core made my heart race. The throbbing of my clit intensified, yearning for the exquisite sensation of his lips wrapping around it, ready to be devoured by the force of his desire.

His fingertips trailed a tantalising path down the back of my thighs, leaving a trail of electric sparks in their wake. The pressure he applied against my legs urged me to instinctively open up for him, surrendering myself to his skilled ministrations.

As he lowered himself to his knees, his breath caressed my most sensitive flesh, sending shivers cascading through my body. The warmth of his breath teased and enveloped me, igniting a primal desire that caused my breathing to quicken in sync with the mounting tension.

The realisation struck me with a jolt. Few men I had been with had truly taken the time to explore the depths of my pleasure. But Brian was different. He possessed an insatiable hunger to please me, to delve into the realm of my desires. To show me he was capable, at his age, of making a young thing writhe and arch at his talents. This was not a mere obligation but a ravenous craving that consumed him, a thirst that he longed to quench with my pleasure as his ultimate reward.

I felt a surge of gratitude for Brian's genuine desire to please me. It was a rarity, a precious gift that I would savour with every fibre of my being. The weight of his intention settled over me, heightening the anticipation that coursed through my veins.

His hands moved with purpose, exploring the contours of my thighs, tracing delicate patterned that elicited soft moans from my lips. I felt my body responding to his touch, arching instinctively, seeking more of his caress. The intensity of his focus ignited a fire within me, fuelling the craving for his skilled tongue to explore me.

With a deliberate yet tender touch, Brian's fingers found their way to my most intimate core. His fingertips danced along the wetness that coated my folds, teasing and tantalising, as if he were an artist painting strokes of desire upon my canvas. Each stroke of his touch sent ripples of pleasure cascading through me, building the intensity with each passing second.

The room was filled with an intoxicating mix of our shared breaths and the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears. Every nerve in my body stood at attention, poised for the exquisite release that awaited me. I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to the sensations that enveloped me, allowing the anticipation to swell and consume me.

And then, with a flicker of his tongue, Brian made contact with my swollen, throbbing clit. The jolt of pleasure shot through me, causing my back to arch and a gasp of pleasure to escape my lips. His skilful tongue explored every crevice, every delicate fold, igniting an inferno of sensation that spiralled within me.

I lost myself in the maelstrom of pleasure, my fingers grasping the sheets beneath me as waves of ecstasy crashed over my body. Brian's rhythmic movements, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by his expert tongue, bringing me closer to the brink of oblivion.

Brian, ever the master of control, sensed the depths of my pleasure and revelled in his power over me. He intensified his assault on my sensitive nub, his tongue swirling and flicking with unrelenting precision. Each stroke, each caress, pushed me closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As the intensity mounted, I could feel the coil of desire winding tighter within me. My body trembled with anticipation, my moans growing louder and louder, more and more urgent. Brian's grip on my thighs tightened, a silent command to surrender completely to the overwhelming pleasure he was orchestrating.

I was teetering on the precipice, my entire being consumed by the need for release. But just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, Brian pulled back, denying me that final plunge into ecstasy. The absence of his touch left me achingly empty, my body pulsating with unfulfilled desire.

With a predatory glint in his eyes, Brian rose to his full height, his dominance radiating from every pore. He seized my wrists and effortlessly pinned them above my head, his strength asserting his control over my quivering body. I was at his mercy, my desire reaching a fever pitch as I yearned for his next move.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice a low, commanding growl. "You think I'm going to let you cum that easily, my little plaything?" he whispered, the words igniting a fierce ache deep within me. "No, my sweet, I'm going to make you beg for it."

His words sent a shockwave down my spine, my breath catching in my throat. I wanted to plead, to beg for release, but he silenced me with his dominance. He relished in the power he held over me, revelling in my desperation.

With a deliberate slowness that bordered on torturous, Brian trailed his fingers along the length of my body, tantalisingly close to where I craved his touch the most. Every nerve in my body screamed for his contact, my hips instinctively arching toward him, begging for his release.

But Brian was in control, and he dictated the pace. He continued his maddening exploration, his touch teasingly light as he traced circles on my inner thighs. The anticipation grew unbearable, my need for release becoming an all-consuming ache that threatened to overwhelm me.

Finally, just when I thought I could take no more, Brian yielded to my pleading body. His fingers found their way to my throbbing core, delving deep into my wetness. The penetration was swift and intense, a primal connection that shattered any remnants of self-control.

He moved with an effortless rhythm, his fingers expertly stroking every sensitive spot within me. "How tight you are, sweetheart... definitely need to warm you up a bit before I stretch you out," he moaned down at me, the pleasure coursing through my veins and my body convulsing beneath his touch. I writhed against his unyielding grip, lost in the sea of sensations that consumed me.

"D-Daddy..." I whined, my head pressing back into the silk sheets. "Feels so good..." Was all I could whimper out as his two fingers sloppily stroked inside me, generating the lewdest of noises. I was no longer an individual, but a vessel of desire, completely surrendered to his command. "Yes..." I hissed, my back arching.

"You almost there, angel?" He looked down at me, moving his head to meet my gaze and mirroring my whimpering breaths. "You gonna cum on my fingers like a good girl for Daddy?"

I nodded feverishly at him. "Yes, Daddy, I'm gonna cum so hard... Please, c-can I cum, Daddy?" I plead, looking up at him with innocent eyes. He bit on his lip hard, his gaze averting down to where his fingers connected with my body, enjoying the sight.

"I did promise you at lease five orgasms, didn't I?" He started, each question rhetorical. "I would be a pretty lousy daddy if I let you go without fulfilling those promises, wouldn't I?" He looked back up at me, his eyes as black as anything. "Cum around my fingers, sweetheart."

With a commanding nod from Brian, a surge of desire shot through my veins, compelling me to yield his dominance. My jaw slackened, and my back arched painfully as an intense pleasure coursed through my core, tightening, and pulsating around his lengthy middle fingers.

"God, you feel so good," Brian growled, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Squeeze around me, baby. Show Daddy how much you enjoy it."

A whimper escaped my lips as I obediently clenched around his fingers, my body quivering with mounting pleasure. My thighs instinctively clenched around Brian's wrist, attempting to hold on to the overwhelming sensations that threatened to consume me.

"Relax those pretty thighs, darling," Brian commanded, his voice dripping with authority. "I want you completely open for me. I want to see every tremor of pleasure."

I fought against the instinct to resist, forcing my thighs to loosen their grip, granting him unrestricted access to my pleasure. Waves of numbing ecstasy washed over me, rendering me breathless and lost in a state of euphoria.

I could hear the wet sounds of his fingers moving inside me, the slick friction only adding to the intensity of the moment. Each deliberate stroke pushed me closer to the edge, my body teetering on the precipice of release.

Brian's husky voice filled the air. "Cum for me, baby. Let yourself go."

The words echoed in my ears, igniting a surge of desire and surrender within me. The coil of tension within me tightened to its breaking point, until finally, I couldn't hold back any longer. My entire being convulsed with pleasure as a powerful climax consumed me, leaving me breathless and trembling in the wake of the intensity.

Brian forcefully withdrew his fingers from my throbbing core, causing me to gasp in both pleasure and loss. He didn't waste a second before shoving those glistening digits into my mouth, filling me up and silencing any protest with his dominance.

I moaned around his fingers, my eyes watering with a mix of desire and submission. The taste of my own arousal mingled with the salty tang of his skin, creating a sinful concoction that fuelled my insatiable hunger.

"Open wide, my obedient little slut," Brian growled. "Taste yourself. Show me how much you crave me."

I obediently parted my lips wider, taking my fingers deeper, feeling them brush against the back of my throat. The overwhelming sensations threatened me, my senses heightened by the knowledge that I was at his mercy.

I clung desperately to his wrist, my nails digging into his flesh, seeking an anchor in the midst of this dizzying pleasure. The taste, the submission, the raw power he exerted over me, it all blended into an intoxicating cocktail that pushed me further into the depths of desire.

Brian's eyes bore into mine, their intensity burning like a searing flame. He relished in the sight of my vulnerability, the surrender etched across my face. I could see the hunger in his gaze, the hunger to possess me completely, to claim me as his own.

As my body trembled with the aftershocks of my release, Brian's grip on me tightened, his dominance unwavering. He knew we were far from done, that the fire between us still raged, demanding to me stoked.

"You're mine tonight, and I'm not done with you," Brian growled, his voice laced with a primal hunger. "You belong to me, body and soul." He took his fingers from my mouth, moving some hair out my sweat-sheened face. "I need to be inside you, pretty thing," he breathed, kissing me sloppily before pulling himself up onto his knees. "Hands and knees," he once again did that thing with his finger, spinning it in a silent command that I acquiesced to without question. I weakly held myself up in an all-fours position, Brian stalking behind me.

Unable to see him, I could only imagine his gaze raking over my exposed form, his hunger growing with each passing moment. A low, primal grunt escaped his lips, a telltale sign of the torturous pleasure he was inflicting upon himself, stroking his hand along his length, relishing in the decadent excitement.

The air crackled with tension as he closed the distance, the bed shaking with his movements. I could sense his presence behind me, his heated breath caressing the nape of my neck as he leaned over me. The promise of his possession hung in the air, electrifying and intoxicating.

"You're so eager, my little temptress," he growled in a seductive rumble against my ear. "You've been aching for me, haven't you? Since you knew how to... They all ache for me like this, but you're so lucky to have me behind you, about to stretch all of you out with my cock."

My body trembled in response, craving the euphoria only he could provide. "Are you on the pill?" I promptly nodded back at him, just needing him to be inside of me already.

And then, without warning, I felt the tantalising pressure of his length at my entrance. He teased me, brushing against my slick folds, denying me the fullness I craved. It was a torment that pushed me to the edge of madness, but I knew it was all part of his exquisite control.

"Please, Daddy... I need to feel you," I practically cried out, my hips wiggling a little.

The moment stretched out, time suspended in a haze of desire. And then, in one swift, powerful thrust, he claimed me as his own. Pleasure and pain collided within me, a symphony of sensations that left me gasping for breath. The world dissolved into a symphony of moans and carnal pleasure as we became entwined for the first time.

"Jesus Christ..." he exhaled. "You surpass every fantasy, darling," he praised, his hands firmly gripping my hips, guiding me backwards to meet his initial thrust. "Does it hurt, love?"

A strained whimper escaped my lips as I lowered my head, my senses overwhelmed by the intense sensation of his cock filling me, stretching me with its commanding presence. "Just a bit..." I confessed, my words barely audible in a whisper. "But... I-I like it."

"Of course you do," he chuckled darkly, savouring the power he held over me. He withdrew, creating a fleeting void within me, only to reclaim it with a forceful thrust that elicited a gasp of pleasure. His movements grew rougher, a deliberate test to gauge my response. "You're such a dirty, naughty little girl, aren't you?"

He continued with a relentless rhythm, each thrust penetrating deeper, igniting a primal fire within me. My body quivered under his command, surrendering to the pleasure he bestowed upon me. The room filled with the sounds of our joining, a symphony of moans and the wet, rhythmic slapping of our bodies colliding.

Brian's grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh, marking me as his. With each forceful thrust, I could feel his power and dominance asserting itself, claiming me completely. I was his vessel, a conduit for his pleasure and my own.

"You were made for this, my sweet." He placed a hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me down, causing me to collapse onto my upper body, my back arching deliciously, and making Brian's thrusts hit me deeper than ever, which made me practically scream out in ecstasy. "There you go... I was waiting for you to scream for me," he breathed through a smug grin. "Now, lets see if I can get you to cum like this, then..."

With an insatiable hunger, Brian embarked on a relentless rampage of lust, thrusting into me with an unbridled force that left me breathless. The sound of our bodies colliding echoed through the room, mingling with the symphony of my moans and the lewd expletives that escaped my lips.

My senses were overwhelmed as pleasure surged through every fibre of my being. I surrendered completely to the symphony of sensations, losing myself in the wild rhythm of Brian's hips. As the pleasure built within me, I could feel the familiar stirrings of my second release. The excitement swelled, my breathing grew heavy and shallow, and I instinctively laid my head to the side on the cool pillows. My entire body moved and jolted forward with every powerful thrust that Brian delivered. I clung to the sheets, my fingers gripping them tightly.

"Yes, yes... Fuck, right there, Daddy," I moaned, my mouth hanging open as he hit every right spot within me. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, Daddy, please—“

"That's right, baby, let me feel you cum on my cock," he encouraged with a breathless exalt. He sent a sharp slap to the side of my arse, which edged me even closure. "Come on," he coaxed me, railing into me with a more viscous vigour, his hands pulling me against him with each thrust.

With each passing moment, the intensity escalated, pushing me closer to the edge of another mind-shattering climax. Brian's expertise and unrelenting passion drove me closer and closer, his actions meticulously calculated to elicit the most profound response from my quivering body.

The world around us faded into insignificance as I teetered on the brink. I was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, my mind consumed by pleasure, and all that mattered was the overwhelming connection between us.

And then it happened. The dam within me burst, unleashing a torrent of ecstasy that washed over me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my voice a symphony of raw desire and fulfilment. My body convulsed in rapture, every nerve ending ignited in a frenzy of pleasure.

Brian's thrusts continued, prolonging the ecstasy, each movement pushing me further into the depths of euphoria.

However, he didn't allow me a moment to catch my breath. With an almost frantic urgency, Brian swiftly positioned himself beneath me, his face now nestled between my legs. His hands gripped onto me, pulling me upwards until I was straddling his face, fully exposed to his hungry mouth. His lips claimed me once more, his skilled tongue lapping at my folds, delving deep into my entrance.

I couldn't help but run my fingers through my hair, my head falling back as the overwhelming stimulation consumed me. Brian was relentless in his pursuit of my pleasure, determined to extract another orgasm from my quivering body. He disregarded the fact that I hadn't fully recovered from the last climax, his singular focus on pushing me to new heights of ecstasy.

There was no room for hesitations or reservations. It was a raw and primal exchange, a symphony of desire and surrender. Brian's hunger for my pleasure was insatiable, his actions an unspoken command for me to abandon myself completely to the sensations coursing through me.

As I shifted my hips, I felt the firm contour of his nose glide teasingly over my sensitive clit. A surge of pleasure shot through me, and I seized the opportunity to use it to my advantage. Brian recognised my intentions and eagerly encouraged my movements. His hands gripped my backside, guiding me to grind against his face, his nose and tongue working in perfect harmony to ignite the most exquisite sensations within me.

Every glide and stroke over my swollen and aroused nub sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. I surrendered to the primal rhythm, my hips undulating in sync with Brian's skilful ministrations. His tongue ventured deeper, exploring the depths of my core with a fervour that matched my own mounting desire.

The air was thick with the heady scent of arousal, mingling with the sounds of our shared passion. Moans and gasps filled the room, a testament to the intensity of the connection we shared. In this moment, there was no room for pretence or inhibition. It was an unadulterated celebration of pleasure.

Time lost all meaning as the sensations intensified. I was on the precipice once more, teetering on the edge of an impending release. The world narrowed down to the overwhelming pleasure radiating from my core, the delicious torment building within me.

"O-Oh, shit... Br—Daddy," I mewled, looking down and seeing Brian's eyes glaring up at me, with a knowing look. He growled against me, now moving his head against me to intensify the feeling of his nose against my clit. And just like that, another climax ripped through me like a stampede of hormones. But he didn't stop, like I thought he might have. He flipped us over, so that I was now laid with my head on the pillows, looking up at the ceiling with his head still firmly shoved between my legs.

"Oh, God..." I weakly stuttered, the pain from the sensitivity unfolding into another type of pleasure altogether. The baby hairs on my head clung to my forehead, my skin flushed light pink and starting to glimmer ever so slightly with a light sheen of sweat.

Brian grunted with determination, continuing his movements on me, his fingers slipping inside me and continuing with a heavy ministration. The free hand that wasn't holding me firmly in place, yanking me even closer to him, now travelled up to my chest, using every ounce of his strength to pull down my bra, not bothering with unhooking it beforehand. He seemed to hold onto it for leverage. My whines and moans were totally unfiltered by this point, but I didn't give a single fuck.

The small glance I made down at him showed his head moving along with the motions of his tongue, completely in a world of his own as he went down on me. It made me feel better knowing he enjoyed it seemingly as much as I did.

My thighs were starting to shake uncontrollably as well as the rest of my legs, the combination of the sensitivity and the brief visual I just got of him was edging me closer and closer to another release. Already.

"Holy fuck, Daddy, I'm gonna cum again..." I groaned out one of my arms laying out on the bed beside me. My eyes shut as I revelled in this feeling. Most of my body went completely numb, but I was able to feel my forbidden, scandalous, older lover's free hand slide into mine, intertwining our fingers together. It was such a small, subtle action, but it made my heart flutter and my core clench deliciously. I squeezed onto his hand, my nails digging into the back of his as I started to grind my hips against his face.

I didn't even anticipate my second release; it happened so fast and sudden.

My voice broke and cracked as I whined out, this climax much more intense than the last one. My back was not the only part of my body that arched off the bed this time; this time, my hips rose off the bed, seemingly having a mind of their own as Brian stayed attached to me. He let me ride out the cluster of orgasms he'd just given me before eventually lifting his head up from between my legs. I was still recovering, my head buzzing and my body still tingling. I didn't even realise that Brian was crawling up and over me, watching me try to recover from that mind-altering experience.

He granted me a brief respite, allowing me to descend from the dizzying heights of pleasure. But just as I began to regain a semblance of control, he swiftly reclaimed it, his grip tightening around the back of my neck. With a commanding tone, he ordered, "Open up, love..."

My body trembled with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability as I obediently parted my lips, ready to receive his intimate offering. Brian provocatively gathered saliva in his mouth, savouring the lewd act before releasing a single droplet into my waiting mouth. The taste of him mingled with my own essence, an intoxicating blend that sent shivers down my spine

"Do you have any idea how amazing you taste, sweetheart?" he purred, his voice laced with a breathless whine. The audaciousness of the act ignited a forbidden desire within me, a thrill that I had never experienced before. In this moment, with Brian, I revelled in the taboo nature of our encounter, embracing the depths of my desires without reservation.

His unyielding gaze never faltered, and as his hand descended to his throbbing shaft, a wicket smile played upon his lips. He dragged his slick length over my sensitive core, causing me to tremble with the onslaught of pleasure. The delicate touch against my clit sent electric shocks surging through my body, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

Without delay, Brian pressed forward, his cock sliding effortlessly into my eager depths. A guttural moan escaped my lips, merging with his deep growl of satisfaction. "One more, my perfect little thing," he whispered, his voice thick with desire and dominance. He increased the tempo of his thrusts, each one driving us closer to the edge of oblivion. Our bodies collided with a symphony of flesh, a crescendo of passion that echoed through the room, fuelling his insatiable hunger for release.

I locked eyes with him, our gazes merging in a dance of primal desire. His sculpted form glistened with a sheen of perspiration, his dishevelled hair framing his face in a wild halo, and his jaw clenched with unrelenting determination. He embodied raw masculinity, and untamed force that overwhelmed my senses.

As our bodies moved in perfect synchrony, the tension grew with each passing second. The room became a sanctuary of pleasure, filled with the cacophony of our moans and the intoxicating scent of our arousal. Every thrust brought us closer to the precipice, our shared climax shimmering on the horizon, a tantalising promise that held us captive.

"Oh God, Brian," I gasped, losing the pet name, the closer I got to what would be an other-worldly release.

He met my subtle plea with a wicked grin, his thrusts growing more forceful, driving us to the brink. "Hold on tight, darling," he rasped, his voice dripping with carnal hunger.

With each primal thrust, the crescendo rose, pleasure and ecstasy threatening to consume us. I clung to him, my nails digging into his flesh.

"Cum for me, one last time, baby, I know you can do it for Daddy," he reaffirmed one last time. And in the final crescendo, time stood still. Our bodies moved as one, a frenzy of need and desire. The air crackled with electricity, the room filled with the sound of our moans mingling, our rhythm reaching a fevered pitch.

And then, with a primal roar, we shattered. A surge of ecstasy coursed through me, radiating from the depths of my core to every sinch of my being. It was an earth-shattering climax, an explosion of pleasure that consumed us both, obliterating any thought or sense of self.

As waves washed over us, our bodies convulsed in tandem, locked in a euphoric embrace. My mouth hung open, and broken cries fell from it, as I experienced the most intense, harsh orgasm of my life.

"Fuuuck!" Brian's animalistic growl rang in the air, as he stilled inside me, shooting his thick load deep within me. Brian May's release. Inside of me. He clung to me, dropping his head down to bury his face in my neck as he slowed his thrusts. He let out whimpers of his come down, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

As our laboured breaths mingled in the air, a moment of surprise interrupted the post-coital haze. Sensing a different sensation, I glanced down, my tired eyes widening in disbelief. A pool of wetness glistened beneath me, evidence of an uncharted territory of pleasure.

"Oh, God..." I gasped, my face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and astonishment. I instinctively covered my face, overwhelmed by the unexpected release. Brian, still catching his breath, followed my gaze, his expression shifting from confusion to a knowing smile.

Chuckling softly, he gently removed my hands from my blushing face, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and amusement. With tender reassurance, he pressed a loving peck on my nose before capturing my lips in a lingering kiss.

"Darling," he murmured, his voice laced with affectionate amusement. "You've been with the wrong people if they've never made you squirt before."

With a smug smirk at his accomplishment, he swiftly stood up from the bed, momentarily disappearing into the bathroom and then returning a short while after with a small face cloth. He kneeled in front of me, placing one hand on my knee and gently guiding it to the side so he could have access to me. He was clearly experienced in this, and it made me blush as he cleaned me up; he did it as slow as ever, his eyes feasting upon my worn-out state. After all, he had just given me five mind-altering orgasms. Just as promised.

"There we go," he sighed, throwing the cloth to the side and leaning down above me. "All perfect," he gave me another heated kiss, his tongue rolling into my mouth sensually, making my eyes flutter shut. He broke the kiss and smirked down at me. "Happy you didn't get on the Euro?"

"Definitely," I breathed out with an airy laugh. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting this to happen today..." I bit my lip, for some reason finding it difficult to look him in the eyes.

"I'll be honest, I didn't either," he chuckled, moving beside me and pulling me into his side.

The only thing now was figuring out how to leave. Surely, there'd have to be that conversation. And surely, he didn't want me staying there. After all, he was a renowned rock star, in a committed relationship with someone much closer to his own age, on a press tour, eyes on him 24/7.

"What's going on up there, love?" He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me. "I'm not throwing you out, if that's what you're wondering."

I looked at him, shocked. "Really?"

He laughed down at me smoothly, admiring my innocent state. "Of course not. Why would I get rid of something so perfect?" He purred down at me. My perplexity stayed, but I lacked the energy to question him further.

"We'll talk in the morning, sweet thing," he stroked over my hair. "Now, I think we should sleep."

Like a train conductor, he commanded our every act, and we did exactly that. Sleeping next to Brian May in a luxury hotel in Germany, after being pummelled into the mattress of his king-size bed, was so much better of an alternative to staying in a three-star hotel with colleagues that would reprimand me non-stop for my slip up at the studio. I hadn't even received a call from Candice to check up on me, or ask where I was, since I did disappear without notifying anybody.

I must have overslept, since by the time morning rolled around, the bed felt ominously cold and void of any other human presence. I fluttered my eyes open, stretching my arm out instinctively to find that Brian was no longer beside me. But as I came round, I noticed a piece of paper sat delicately on the bedside table. I tiredly sat up, crawling over to it and picking it up, letting my eyes gaze over the pristine cursive that adorned its surface.

Y/N,

Last night was incredible, and I found myself sat awake in the early hours of this morning, whilst you slept beside me. You looked so perfect and at ease. Anyway, I had to run out and get some stuff done this morning, but don't worry, my perfect Y/N, you stay right where you are, and I shall be back before midday. In the meantime, order room service, take a shower, do whatever you need to do. And maybe call that old sow from the studio and tell her you quit. I needed a new PR person, anyway. And you? You're perfect for me.

See you later, sweet girl.

Bri x

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