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joequiinn · 2 months ago

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When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part i | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Tags & Warnings | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

A.N | Sooo, this was supposed to be a oneshot for Halloween, but the plot got away from me, and now we've got a big fic. Due to the premise and time period, Eddie may be ooc, but I tried my best to make him fit the era, and the vibes are so worth it!

W.C | 10.3k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“The way you walked was thorny…”

August 1900

The Talbot Estate was a wonder in the late summer, its grounds awash with blooming colors of calendulas and borages, of dahlias and cosmos. To you, it seemed the soil was rich with magic and splendor, for how could the hands of man ever maintain something quite so beautiful? It couldn’t be the hard work of the groundskeeper, always watering and weeding, slaving away under the hot sun for the sake of your family’s gardens - no, it was clearly the power of fairies or sprites that grew the flowers so vivid and the trees so high.

Although the extensive gardens were forever stunning, you favored the surrounding fields as your playground instead, the wild and untamed things far more exciting than the lavish flowerbeds and neat rows of vegetables. It was the rolling hills and woodlands of the seemingly endless Talbot Estate where wonder truly lied, although many days you may have been the only one to see it. Surrounded by the tall grass and wildflowers and imposing trees, you were an explorer - not a mere girl of eight, but a true adventurer of the world, awaiting her next great discovery.

When the days were warm and the sun was high, you could always be found skipping over tangling tree roots or lying amongst the wild helenium. And such is where you were found this lovely August afternoon, snuck upon by the groundskeeper's ward, Edward, the only person in the entire world perhaps more rascally than yourself; or so you thought, as your whole world had only ever consisted of your family grounds and the nearby town of Hawkins.

“You’ll be stung to death if you lie here all day.” The boy’s playful words startled you out of your lazy reverie, having been soothed nearly to sleep by the buzzing of insects around your head. He plopped down to sit beside you, his knobby knee bumping your leg with impatient, childish glee. With a smile wide enough to show off your two missing teeth, you sat up eagerly with a stretch of your arms, your dress wrinkled and the hem stained green from the grass; grass so tall you were both hidden from sight, like two predators stalking their prey.

“The bees wouldn’t dare sting me, we’re good friends.” You argued, delighting in the way Edward grinned back at you and your fanciful way of thinking. He made a conspiratory look, that familiar face he always pulled when he was about to share a tall tale - Edward had always been a storyteller, and you the ever attentive listener.

“You think of them as your friends?” He leaned forward, and so you did the same, coming close enough that he could whisper his closely guarded secret, “No, they fool you. Their queen has it out for you, you know, she’s instructed they play nice to lull you into a false sense of security.”

You giggled into your dirt-covered hand, Edward’s eyes twinkling at how easily he could amuse you, “And what does the queen have against me?”

Although he was only nine years old (nearly ten, he had a habit of reminding you recently), Edward had such control of his face that sometimes you thought he was ninety. His expression became gravely serious, he looked around as if fearful the bees may hear the two of you, leaning even closer while cupping his hand around your ear to keep those pesky eavesdroppers from listening.

“She is jealous. You are like Snow White, ‘a thousand times more fair.’”

Your cheeks grew hot, so easily charmed by Edward’s words; you hid behind your hands, smile large and eyes shining. His own ears were pink despite the proud, confident look on his face; you stared at one another, both nearly too embarrassed to speak.

“Eddie, you are a terrible liar.” You said with a grin, nervously picking at the grass by your feet, getting its threads stuck beneath your fingernails.

“Liar?” He questioned mischievously, “But it was no exaggeration.”

You stared at your feet, unable to look him in the eye. You were too young to truly understand the vastness of emotions blooming between you two this past summer, to know exactly the words for why you looked upon this silly boy as if he were the sun. But you were intelligent enough to know that you felt for him differently than you had before, to know that perhaps this was some child-like semblance of puppy love.

You carefully glanced up at him through your lashes, another conspiring look passing between the two of you, “If you’re caught speaking like that, Edward Munson, they may force you to marry me.”

With a charmed smile, Edward shook his head, eyes alight as he stared back at you, “Oh, Ms. Talbot, I don’t think they’ll allow it.”

“Good.” You said defiantly, rising to your feet and dusting off your skirts, useless as it may be. You squinted against the sunlight as you looked across the fields; your family estate in the distance was like a foreboding beacon, one you quickly turned your gaze from, “Marriage wouldn’t suit me, I have the whole world to see, and a husband would simply hold me back.”

Edward stood with you, the breeze ruffling his hair as he stretched his arms up in the air, fingers splaying wide as if he could brush the clouds in the sky, “But do we not have the whole world here at our fingertips already?”

You two shared an innocent smile, and without a word of warning you quickly spun around and began traipsing through the flowers and weeds, happily going along knowing that Edward was sure to follow. His footfall was merely a step behind you, although with his long legs he could very easily surpass you in stride should he choose. But dutifully he allowed you to lead, and so you pumped your arms and legs a little faster.

“And what is here that I can’t find out there?” You questioned eagerly, bursting out of the grassiest part of the field which neighbored a small pond, one of many scattered about the expansive Talbot Estate. Bugs skated across the water’s surface, a bird glided past your head, a frog croaked somewhere from within a log.

“I’d bet there’s acres of this land that you haven’t seen.” Edward challenged, and you wondered if he’d grown taller recently - why did it feel as if you had to crane your head to look at him more than you did yesterday? You crossed your arms with a smart look, suspecting that he knew something that you didn’t, if that mischievous twinkle in his eye was any indicator.

“And you have?”

The excited smile that overtook his entire face was only confirmation that he had something to share, some new discovery that he was certain you’d absolutely delight in, “Do you know there’s a chapel on your family’s grounds?”

You made a curious face, having never heard about it before. Where could it possibly be hiding, and why had you not previously known of it? You shook your head with disbelief, although you were certainly eager for Edward to follow through and reveal this chapel’s secret hiding place to you.

“If we have a chapel, why hasn’t my father ever shown it to me?” You asked defiantly, debating that perhaps Edward was trying to trick you.

He gave the kind of noncommittal shrug that only a child could, his face showing annoyance that you didn’t believe him, “Maybe he doesn’t know either.”

“But he knows everything.” You argued with silly logic, causing Edward to laugh a little. That was the difference between eight years old and nearly ten years old, the difference between wealth and poverty - he’d stopped believing that his father knew everything long ago.

“I’ll show you.” He insisted stubbornly, although the light in his rich brown eyes gave away his excitement. Your own innocent expression grew wide with exhilaration, eager to see this supposed chapel with your own two eyes.

All it took was for you to nod once, and Edward grabbed your hand, running clumsily over rocks and through brush towards the most northern end of the Talbot property. It wasn’t an easy area to trek, less kempt than the rest of the estate, trees growing taller and wider as it edged along the expansive forest. Perhaps that’s why you’d never seen this chapel, as the northern property seemed far and wide, intimidating even the most adventurous of small children.

But with Edward’s companionship, the journey was exciting, full of wonder and endless curiosity. Eventually, you tugged your hand from his own, struggling to keep up with his longer legs, although you didn’t dare stop moving, else you might lose him amongst the brush and trees. You two laughed at nothing, simply happy for each other’s company, running and running for what felt like an eternity.

The roll of hills slowed you down, the tangle of branches caused brief pauses, but eventually Edward came to a stop, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His cheeks were splotchy pink as his chest moved quickly, and you yourself had to sit upon a stump thanks to the burning of your calves. From your vantage point, you looked around, a chapel nowhere in sight, and you very nearly whipped your disappointed gaze onto Edward, to scold him for tricking you like this.

That is, until you finally saw it.

Peaking over bright green leaves, a stone spire just barely protruded, practically lost among the foliage. You gawked while rising back to your feet, both shocked and excited to see that Edward was, in fact, speaking the truth. The two of you shared a look, his face satisfied to be proven right, and you once more smiled from ear to ear before stomping down the hill to find the rest of the building.

The chapel stood derelict and decrepit, clearly forgotten about after what must have been a long time. The bricks were covered in moss and lichen, ivy crawling its way up corners and railings, abandoned birds’ nests littering windowsills and the belfry. Even from here, you could see that parts of the roof had caved in, that pieces of stone had worn away from the hands of time.

But curiously, the flowers appeared well-kept, planted fresh in spite of the chapel’s abandonment. It was a flower you recognized from your books of botany, although you weren’t quite certain yet which plant it was - amongst your books there were many beautifully drawn depictions of purple flowers upon sprawling stalks. What would compel someone to return to this ramshackle structure simply to maintain its blooms, you wondered.

You and Edward shared a look of both fear and excitement - although it was unspoken, you both had the sense that you weren’t supposed to be here, and that sent a buzz through your entire body. There was something daunting about the chapel, perhaps something even dangerous, and yet the thrill of that risk was all too gripping to ignore.

You tried to put on a brave face, even as you reached for Edward’s hand again; you held your chin high as if to hide your nerves, acting as if you grabbed his hand not for your sake, but for his. And he said nothing on the matter, squeezing your fingers in his own for reassurance, the both of you slowly approaching the imposing structure.

Those curious purple flowers kept your attention as you drew closer, the way they were planted all around the edges of the chapel - they were practically four walls of their own, a fence of sorts as if to adorn what was housed inside. Drawing closer, Edward reached his fingertips towards the enchanting petals, but you tugged at his other hand, as if the imminent danger suddenly jogged your little botanist memory.

“They’re poisonous.” The words fell delicately from your lips, Edward giving you a quizzical look as the pair of you stopped. You studied the flowers with trepidation, shrinking away from their reach, “Wolfsbane.”

Of course you should have remembered that sooner - your father had an entire encyclopedia of poisonous plants that you found far more fascinating than all the rest. You’d always had an interest in plantlife, even before you could read, so as you grew your father showed you the corner of the library dedicated to such a subject, allowing you to marvel over the pictures while tripping over the Latin names scrawled upon the pages. That book of poisonous plants was one of your favorites, perhaps because of all the beautiful colors that masked the dangers lying just within - but you were too young to read into the deeper meaning of that.

Edward continued the trek forward, tugging at your hand so that you would follow. When you reached the rotted, termite infested doors, he gave a firm push, but they wouldn’t budge. With a determined furrow of his brow, Edward looked around for another way in, but even the shattered windows were too high for you to safely climb. So, he tried forcing the door again; it was once you began to help that it finally began to scrape along the stone floor, the sound grating to your ears as the two of you huffed with each insistent push.

Finally, there was enough space for the two of you to slink inside, and you shared a daunted look with one another now that the path was clear.

“You go first.” You whispered, and Edward’s eyes widened a little, affronted at your instruction.

“Me?”

“Eddie, please.” You requested, swallowing nervously. You looked around, as if fearful that you’d be caught now that you’d gotten this far into your journey.

Edward sucked in his lips and looked at the gap in the door, into the imposing darkness, debating if it was too late to turn back now. He slowly returned his gaze to you, as if afraid that if he turned his back on the dark, it may swallow him whole.

“Hold my hand.” He requested, and you obliged without question or hesitation. You both pressed your backs to the door, shuffling in one right behind the other, feet carefully gliding as you went together into the foreboding chapel.

Despite the fearful drumming of your heart, you were put at ease by sunlight streaming in through the deteriorated roof and ruined windows. You exhaled deeply, sharing another look with Edward as you unclasped your clammy hands.

“Nothing to be afraid of.” He said with ease, as if to calm the both of you down. The corner of your mouth pulled up in a weak grin before you finally looked around the small chapel around you.

The floor was littered with dust and debris, scattered with feathers and leaves. The pews were in tattered pieces, the podium left abandoned on its side; one iron candelabrum still stood tall, melted wax molded upon its holders, but its brethren had fallen much like everything else. You gasped a little at the sight of bones near your feet, but held in the desire to shout with disgust. But then your eyes caught a dried, coppery trail from the bones to the door just behind you, and your heart rate spiked with puzzled fear.

Edward slowly walked past the shredded, crumbling pews, taking careful steps as he approached what was once the altar; where candles should have rested, instead there were more bones and abandoned bits of nature. But you could tell, even while watching his back, that something peculiar caught his eye, and you bit your lip with hesitation.

“Eddie…?”

He reached out towards the ground beside the altar, the sound of scrapping metal making you cringe as he picked something up. He turned around with the cumbersome material in hand, revealing to you a rusted chain weight down by a shackle. Another pang of panic drummed in your chest, finding this place no longer exciting and worth exploring, but rather ominous and frightening - you were not supposed to be here.

Letting your eyes wander, you realized that wasn’t the only chain, that another could be found just opposite of where Edward stood; he seemed to realize the same thing, looking back at you with alarmed eyes, although this place made the darkness of his eyes unnerving instead of comforting.

“I think there’s a reason your dad never brought you here…” His voice was edgy, face appearing nearly gaunt in the low lighting.

“Maybe he doesn’t know.” You countered, although it was clear that you’d only said that for your own comfort. Something told you that your father was most certainly aware of whatever happened in this chapel, although you weren’t sure how you could tell such a thing. A shiver ran up your spine, a sensation so cold that you wrapped your arms around yourself, nervously digging your fingernails into your skin, “I think we should go.”

Edward nodded even as he continued to look around, as if he couldn’t help his innate curiosity to see more, to understand what secrets lie here on Talbot property - you could see in his face that despite the potential peril, he was desperate to know more.

Behind you, the door abruptly scratched agonizingly along the floor, causing you to scream and Edward to drop the chains with a raucous clang as he shouted. In the same breath, you attempted to run towards Edward while spinning to face the sudden danger, causing yourself to trip and fall to the floor. The palms of your hands scraped across stone and dirt and bone, instantly sore as you scrambled towards the altar on all fours.

But before you could even make it a couple feet, something grabbed the back of your dress and pulled, causing you to shout again; you briefly caught a glimpse of Edward’s face in the chaos, and although there was fear alight in his eyes, it certainly wasn’t the kind of terror that you had expected.

“What in God’s name are you two doing here?” Your father’s distraught voice bellowed in your ear, ringing menacingly off the walls. He forced you to your feet with another strong yank, turning you around to face him; you assumed that his face would be red with anger, that his eyes would be full of rage, that his nostrils would flare with fury. But instead, what you saw was horror.

The chaos of the moment made your head spin, and suddenly tears were pricking at your eyes, lips quivering with shaken breath; you cried even as you tried to fight it, eyes locked with your father’s as his alarm melted into worry.

“We didn’t know--!” You attempted to explain, but your emotions made you stutter and trip over your words, making a hiccup leap from your throat.

Your father’s eyes were so caring and apprehensive as he knelt before you, large hands gently grasping yours for reassurance; but as his gaze looked past your shoulder and towards Edward, who was still frozen with fear at the altar, something changed. There was a darkness that seemed to suddenly shroud his eyes, a cruelty knitting his brows and a foreboding suspicion twisting his face. The expression was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, as if your father was seeing something that you didn’t.

Your father rose to his feet, his posture menacing as outrage overtook his face, “You brought her here!”

He released your hands, pointing an accusatory finger at Edward, whose hands were trembling, face pale with alarm. Your father’s shout caused your blubbering to grow worse, but he stepped around you as if you were forgotten, moving as if he intended on causing harm.

“Do you have any idea what kind of danger is in this place? And you brought her here!?”

You watched the confrontation with absolutely helplessness, feeling terror at the sight of your father acting so savage. Frantically, Edward looked around in search of some means of escape, knowing he didn’t stand a chance trying to run past your father and out the door. Your ears rang, vision blurry from tears, as you prayed that nothing bad would happen to him, that maybe your father would show mercy despite his animal-like aggression.

“I-- I didn’t…” Edward was at a loss for words, far too terrified to defend himself. You saw his eyes flick towards one of the shattered windows, clearly gauging if he could make the climb, if he could make the jump; your father saw this too, taking one large, threatening step in the direction of the window to flex his power over the situation.

“I always knew you were trouble, but I could never see it until now.” Your father insulted through his teeth as if he’d had some kind of revelation, his body tense with anger.

“I’m not--” Edward sounded so weak, so petrified; another hiccup interrupted your crying, a weak sound whining in your throat as if to protest your father’s actions.

“Aren’t you?” Did your father nearly sound amused by that? Why did it seem that his words were laced with a mocking malice, as if there were a smile upon his face?

Despite knowing the odds weren’t in his favor, Edward made an abrupt dash for the broken window, using the pews beneath as leverage to jump up and grab hold of the sill littered with broken stained glass. Your father moved only a second later, ever determined to grab the offensive boy and teach him a lesson.

But by some miracle, Edward managed to climb up despite crying out in pain, glass stabbing into his palms as he yanked himself up and over, the shattered remains of the window ripping his pants as he briefly straddled the sill before dropping out of your sight. Your father was just moments too late, angrily clenching his fist around the air in front of him with an enraged growl.

You stared out the window at the green leaves swaying tranquilly in the wind, as if to contradict what had just happened here; you sighed with relief that Edward managed to get away. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you felt numb, as if all the anxiety and fear had drained you of anything else.

When your father turned back around, his expression was far too calm considering the circumstances of what had just transpired; he took deep breaths through his nose, fighting to compose himself. It almost looked as if shame flashed across his eyes as he looked pitifully down at you, as if he realized that he’d behaved dreadfully, frighteningly, that he’d acting like an animal in front of you.

He approached and scooped you into his arms; despite everything, you still clung to him, resting your head on his shoulder as your crying slowly began to mellow out.

“I’m so sorry, my darling, I’m so sorry…” He repeated the apology over and over and over again as he carefully stepped out of the chapel, mindful of protecting your small body as he moved lightly on his feet. He briskly walked down the uneven cobbled steps and past the blockade of wolfsbane as he comfortingly rubbed your back, his voice attempting to sooth your tears.

Despite their dangerous, poisonous nature, you found comfort in the flowers’ purple-hued petals.

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September 1916

Eddie Munson would never have predicted he’d return to Hawkins one day; a few years ago, he would have bet all the money in the world that he’d never see his hometown again. No, once his father showed up following a five year disappearance, insisting that his young son hit the road with him, little Edward barely looked back. It wasn’t for a hatred of his home, nor for any troubles with his uncle, the man who practically raised him - but it was some youthful whimsy and desire, his childlike need to see what was beyond his front door. He was only twelve when his father returned, and as such he thought there would be great adventures to be had, falling for all the promises of happiness laid at his feet.

Of course, it didn’t take long for trouble to start. It seemed that everywhere Alan and Edward Munson went, bad things followed - an arrest in one city, a get-rich-quick scheme in another, a string of debt so long that they’d never see the end of it. As a boy, Eddie hadn’t quite realized how bad it was; but as the years took their toll, he found himself longing for a way back home.

He missed the cozy little cottage shared with his uncle, the smell of the gardens just yards from their front porch, the joys once shared with the Talbot daughter who he had no right to be friends with. All that time away had nearly caused him to forget his childhood friend, his companion in an otherwise lonely world; but once he began to crave his home in Hawkins, Eddie often found himself reveling in the memories of their days spent together.

The familiarity and comfort of home had been calling out to Eddie, it had become a beacon of hope as times with his father grew worse and worse, his tolerance for this life wearing thin. So, Eddie came up with a scheme of his own, hiding money in tricky ways because his father knew all the usual tactics, mapping out which city they blew through would make his departure the easiest and the quickest.

Really, he could have left at any time - he was a man now, he no longer had to do as he was told, no longer needed permission before making decisions for himself. But Al was a trickster of a man, so much so that he’d find a way to manipulate his boy into staying simply because Eddie was a valuable asset to him.

They were up in Michigan when Eddie finally made his move as his father slept off his drunken haze in the dingy boarding house they’d taken residence in the past month. Eddie had been writing to Wayne for some weeks now, informing the man of his plan and its progression; although Eddie feared his abandoned uncle would want nothing to do with him, the words of forgiveness in his letters were a reassurance on Eddie’s doubtful heart.

When Eddie and Al first settled in upon their arrival in Michigan, Eddie took what chances he could to call the Talbot Estate, hoping to speak with his uncle in preparation - it was shocking to him when his first call was answered by Magda, the elderly housekeeper who had worked for the family Eddie’s entire life. Again, he felt trepidation, but the woman seemed pleased to hear from him, although once she’d been informed of Eddie’s return, she worried over Sir Talbot’s reaction.

That nearly made Eddie’s heart drop into his stomach, fearful that he wouldn’t be welcomed back simply because of a foolish day from sixteen years ago. As if able to read his mind - which was always a startling trait of Magda’s - she reassured him that she’d discuss the subject with her boss, that she’d put the man’s mind at ease. Of all the staff of the estate, Sir Talbot trusted Magda with his life, and if there was anyone that could change his opinion about a matter, it would certainly be her.

And so with everything set, Eddie left for the train station without a single look back, accepting easily that he’d likely never see his father again.

Once he set foot on the depot platform in Hawkins following a near two-day trip, Eddie was struck by how little his hometown had changed - yes, Hawkins was keeping up with the times as best it could, but it was as if the air felt exactly as it did the day he left in 1903. And as he rode through town alongside a farmer willing to give him a lift, he took in that comforting familiarity of the buildings and the roads and the people who hadn’t seemed to change at all.

As a boy, he hadn’t left the Talbot Estate often - Wayne’s job was sometimes all-consuming, so if Eddie did come into Hawkins proper, it was at the side of one of the maids collecting goods, and eager little Eddie was always first to volunteer his assistance. When Wayne was so busy that he couldn’t keep an eye on his boy, the maids took care of Eddie, giving him tasks to stay occupied, teaching him skills that may or may become handy in the future; if it weren’t for one maid in particular, Eddie probably would have been illiterate for half his life.

The streets of Hawkins seemed fresh with new cobbles, many shops with new coats of paint, and more people seemed to congest every direction that he looked - Eddie knew Hawkins had changed more than he thought, and yet that sense of home made it look exactly as it did thirteen years ago.

The farmer dropped Eddie off outside the tall, rod iron gates of the Talbot Estate, their size far less imposing now that he was no longer a child, although there was always something ominous about this property. It was as if there was a darkness surrounding his childhood home, one that only he could ever see, some mystery that he didn’t have all the clues to.

Eddie had to take a moment to simply stare at the estate - at the mansion sat atop a hill, at the surrounding fields losing their color with the arrival of autumn. He smiled fondly to himself despite the intimidating quality that seemed to hang in the air - this was his home and nothing made him happier than being back here.

With a sigh of anticipation, Eddie hiked his bag back up onto his shoulder and forced open one of the gates, stones crunching underfoot as he began to make the short hike up the property and towards the plot of land dedicated to staff housing. As he followed the twists and turns of the driveway, the mansion grew more imposing, Eddie’s gaze jumping from window to window, wondering if someone was watching him or if that was a silly sensation made up in his head.

The staff homes were all small cottages clustered to the northwest of the property - not a terribly far distance from the front gates, but it felt much farther on foot. Eventually, the top of the roofs came into sight, one chimney lazily blowing smoke; Eddie’s steps grew faster, stride longer, as he all but rushed towards the family front steps of his childhood home.

With it being mid-morning,Wayne was nowhere to be found - considering just how much of the property he maintained, mostly on his own, Eddie could guess at least half a dozen places that his uncle may be right now.

So, he deposited his feeble belongings atop the cot that was waiting for him, and approached the Talbot mansion, suddenly feeling a nervous tightening in his chest as he went - would Sir Talbot still frown upon him as if he were trouble just waiting to happen? Would his daughter shun Eddie due to too many years apart? He had to steady himself as he grew closer, taking deep breaths and reminding himself not to overthink as he rang the doorbell - Magda had assured him things would be fun, and that woman never went back on her words.

The butler who answered was a new face to Eddie, which meant he had to explain himself and his presence - he had hoped that perhaps Murray would still be on staff, as it would have been comforting for familiar faces to be greeting him instead. He was half-tempted to ask for Magda purely to help himself relax, but he thought it best to first reacquaint himself with Sir Talbot, considering that he’d be living on the man’s property once again should all go well.

So, introductions aside, the new butler allowed Eddie entry, instructing him to wait in the front hall before disappearing in the direction of Sir Talbot’s office. The mansion hadn’t changed one bit, the art on the walls the same pieces Eddie had seen dozens of times before, the carpet beneath his feet the exact one that he accidentally tracked mud on when he was first learning how to garden. And yet, the familiarity did not stop the drumming of his heart, the anxious little twitch of his hands - ever since that frightening summer day so many years ago, Eddie had never quite looked upon Sir Lawrence Talbot the same way.

Eddie was eventually escorted to the extravagant office, one of the only rooms in the home he hadn’t seen before; the butler announced his arrival, bowed his head, and briskly left the two men alone. Before Sir Talbot sat a stack of papers that he stared at harshly, but it was evident that his mind was elsewhere; nervously, Eddie assumed the man was simply collecting himself before daring to have this inevitable conversation.

When Sir Talbot finally looked over the frame of his glasses, the look in his eyes was nearly startling to Eddie - there was something unspoken in that stare, some kind of secret in the man’s eyes. Talbot’s demeanor became chilly as he studied Eddie closely, his gaze harsh and cutthroat as he looked the younger man up and down in scrutiny.

Growing nervous, Eddie nodded his head in greeting, hoping that his anxieties were written too plainly across his face, “Sir.”

Silently, Talbot looked him over again, assessing the man who he last saw as a boy. When he finally locked his eyes with Eddie’s again, they were coldly unreadable.

“Edward Munson… how you’ve changed.” Sir Talbot finally spoke, his voice still that same strong timber that it used to be. He rose to his feet, removing his glasses with a faint sigh; Eddie was almost dismayed to see that this man was still just as tall as ever, for he’d led himself to believe that Talbot only seemed tall because all those years ago he was an adolescent.

Keeping his shoulders squared and chin high, Eddie kept his eyes on the older man, who rounded his massive oak desk in a slow approach, Eddie suddenly feeling like prey. Once the two men were standing mere feet across from each other, there was a pause, a tense stillness in the air as Eddie held his breath in anticipation.

Wordlessly, Sir Talbot offered his hand - it was not a warm and welcoming gesture, but Eddie knew better than to turn it down. So, Eddie moved to shake the man’s hand, however, Talbot grabbed him by the wrist and turned his palm to face the ceiling; his grip wasn’t rough, but it was certainly insistent. With a confused look, Eddie watched Talbot’s face - the other man’s eyes studied his skin as if he knew palmistry, as if there was some hidden message in the lines of Eddie’s hand.

Talbot’s sharp eyes met Eddie’s abruptly, and the younger hoped that his face conveyed no fear or trepidation. For what felt like an eternity, they stared at one another, Eddie unable to comprehend what could possibly be going on. But a moment later, Sir Talbot nodded as if in confirmation to himself, and finally pressed his palm into Eddie’s for a firm shake.

“Welcome back.” Talbot’s words were far from warm, but he seemed a touch less guarded. Eager to please, Eddie nodded back in thanks as Talbot took back his hand.

“It is good to be back, sir.” Eddie confirmed with a nod, trying to ignore the trepidation he still felt strong as ever. Again, there was something in the man’s gaze that kept Eddie on edge, something that was simply unnerving, “I informed Magda that I’d be returning, although I couldn’t give her a day.”

Talbot nodded while his eyes moved about his office, as if he didn’t want to be looking at Eddie for longer than he had to; there was tension in his shoulders, “I’d heard your return was inevitable.”

Was Talbot always so short with his words? Eddie couldn’t quite remember. Trying to bolster his confidence, Eddie nodded again and took a deep breath, “I’ve come to you first in hopes of offering my services around the estate - I have no intention of living on your land for free, I am no longer a child.”

“No, you certainly aren’t.” Talbot answered in a slow, biting tone that Eddie couldn’t identify. The elder was gazing out the large window, eyes blindly staring out as if in contemplation, hopefully considering Eddie’s offer. When he looked back at the young man, Talbot had a curious expression across his features, “What skills have you acquired while away?”

Eddie swallowed; although he’d been rehearsing this for half the train ride home, it was still so different to be confronted with the actually conversation, to be confronted with the ever imposing man of the house, “I’m knowledgeable in mechanical and electrical devices; I can do any and all hard labor as need be; I’m well acquainted with motor vehicles, both as a driver and as a repairman.”

That last point seemed to catch Talbot’s interest, and so Eddie paused to allow the man to speak, “Motor vehicles? Well, that is a valuable skill.”

Eddie nodded - as motorcars began to grow in popularity these past few years, he’d been more than aware of what opportunities that may offer. Everyone wanted a car, wanted the fun and the luxury of a motor vehicle over a horse and carriage, and so Eddie had decided a couple years back that he would become an expert as best he could, would gain as much knowledge on this new technology as possible.

Talbot continued, “I will not promise you a job, Mr. Munson, however, my own motor car has been troublesome as of late - should you be able to resolve the problem, you have a job here at Talbot Estate.”

Eddie’s expression brightened, although he didn’t want to look too eager - he didn’t want to get his hopes up now that he was offered this challenge. But he gave a quick nod, already thrilling at the prospect of a potential job here at home.

“I’m more than happy to take a look; I can start right now, if you’d like.”

Sir Talbot’s face was once more curious, intrigued to see what Eddie could do, intrigued to see what kind of man he’d become. Talbot’s eyes narrowed slightly in consideration, before he, too, nodded shortly.

“Very well - have Douglas show you to the garage.” Talbot returned to his chair, although he did not yet take a seat, as if he refused to relax until Eddie was out of the room.

“Thank you, sir.” Eddie dipped his head a little, prepared to take his leave.

“And Munson?”

That serious, intimidating tone made Eddie’s heart skip, “Yes, sir?”

Talbot leveled him with a grave look, eyes fierce as they pierced straight into Eddie’s soul, one last domineering show before they parted ways, “Do behave yourself around my daughter. You hear me?”

Nervously, Eddie nodded, swallowing slightly as a cocktail of apprehension and excitement whirled around in his chest at the mention of the Talbot girl, his long lost friend. How much had she changed? How much had she stayed the same? Eddie was oh-so anxious to know, but now was not the time to get roused about it, “Yes, sir.”

Talbot stared for another long, tense moment before giving a small nod of his own, finally lowering back into his stiff leather chair, eyes returning to the paperwork scattered out in front of him as if it took precedence over the man before him, “You may go.”

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Early afternoon and the sun was high, warm in that cozy way that only seemed to happen in late-September once the season changed. It wasn’t the kind of sweltering warmth felt in the summer months, nor was it laced with the hint of approaching winter winds - it was a stillness, as if everything in the world had come to a pause to enjoy the orange sunlight while it would last.

Eddie had been fussing with Talbot’s motor car for over an hour now, tuning up every little thing just to make sure it was in pristine condition - he had to impress the man, after all, and didn’t want to leave a single stone unturned in his work. The vehicle was a virtually brand-new model, as it was undeniably different from those that Eddie had worked on before. Initially, that made him nervous, made him fearful that he wouldn’t have the right tools or knowledge to make any improvements. But once he began poking around at the motor, it was like an intuitive instinct made this new car make sense, and he became lost in his work.

Between the heat and the effort, Eddie’s body was already sticky with sweat; he’d stripped his coat and his vest and his tie, rolled up the sleeves of his white linen shirt, but it was only temporary relief. His hands were covered in grime, and more than once he swiped at his hair or rubbed sweat from his brow only to curse, knowing that trailing his fingers there would be streaks of oil left behind.

As Eddie grumbled to himself, focusing intently as he knelt beside the engine, the sounds of another car driving up the gravel met his ears, and as it drew closer cheerful voices accompanied it. Perhaps the help returning from town, or a visitor joining Talbot for luncheon; regardless, Eddie kept his head down, nearly done with the task he was doing.

The vehicle came to a grinding stop, although the engine continued running, a blend of voices eagerly overlapping one another, laughter harmonizing in a joyous, youthful way that made Eddie furrow his brow. Reaching a good stopping point, he set down his tool and stood, looking out from the open garage door to assess the visitors to the estate; he reached for a rag, already filthy, and attempted to clean his hands in vain.

The driver was a young man accompanied by three women, all of whom appeared near Eddie in age; a realization struck him in that moment, his heart beating faster as his eyes began to dart from face to face, searching for those ever familiar eyes, that ever comforting smile. The group in the car was chaotic, high energy as they made one another laugh, throwing their arms around with hyperactivity as they continued whatever stories and jokes they’d been telling on the drive up. For a moment, the disarray was distracting, but of course, it should have been obvious which of the three women was the one he was searching for--

The woman in the lilac sundress; purple has always been your favorite color, after all.

Eddie took a sharp breath once he finally had the chance to study you; thirteen years felt like it was melting away in an instant as he took in how you’d changed, how you’d stayed the same.

Your hair was still that same lovely color, especially out here in the sunlight. Your smile was still dazzling, bright enough to light up an entire room, especially now that you’d grown into it. Your body language was still as light and carefree as ever, having not lost any of the joyousness of your youth. Although you were one of three women in the vehicle, you radiated in a way that made you the only person Eddie could see;hHe felt his jaw growing slack as he stared, unable to fight the nervous skipping of his heart, the anxious tingling in his limbs.

You were beautiful, and it very nearly took him aback. It was different from the beauty you had in your youth - when Eddie left, you were only ten and he would’ve deemed you as ‘cute.’ For all of your childhood, he’d heard many people exclaim “she’ll be such a vision one day” or “what a gorgeous lady she’ll become,” but at the time he could not have made such bold predictions.

But now you were a woman, a stunning woman who certainly had no right being so damn lovely to look at. Now, Eddie understood what all those people were talking about when you two were just children, because the proof was right here before him in staggering beauty.

Eddie hadn’t realized he was staring until one of your friends finally noticed him within the shade of the garage, drawing the entire group’s attention. And when you set your sparkling eyes on him, he froze, his tongue heavy with nerves and limbs unable to move. You arched a lovely, curious eyebrow, clearly unfamiliar with this man standing in your family’s garage.

As you stood to climb over your friends and out of the vehicle, you curiously eyed this mystery man, wondering if your father had hired more staff or perhaps called for a specialist to deal with his damn car. The man was covered in grease from head to toe, his shoes scuffed and his curly hair becoming unruly from sweat; the buttons of his shirt were undone halfway done his chest, which was heaving from the labor he’d inevitably been hard at doing. Despite the oddness of his attentive staring, you couldn’t help but think that he was certainly an attractive man, whoever the hell he was.

His expression seemed dumbfounded as he stared at you, as if you were some specter that he couldn’t quite make sense of. But there was something about that look that reminded you of someone, that seemed familiar although you couldn’t place why.

Your name being spoken drew your attention, your friends saying their farewells and reminding you about dinner plans you had for tomorrow night; you smiled largely, confirming you wouldn’t forget, as you closed the car door behind you. Billy ripped out of the driveway, just like he always did, far too fond of fast driving and reckless behavior; the speed of the car driving off blew your hair back, the hat securely tied around your neck fluttering in the breeze. Your friends turned in their seats just so they could keep waving goodbye, giggling together as you histrionically waved back for their entertainment.

Once the trio was out of sight - although a dirt cloud was left in their wake - you turned back around, spying the mechanic out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way he sheepishly tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring at you this entire time. It made you smirk just a little, amused by whoever he was, growing yet again curious as to who he could possibly remind you of. Instead of walking to the house, you took leisurely steps towards the open garage, noticing the way the man fumbled with the tool he’d just picked up, which nearly made you giggle.

“Are you here to take that dreaded vehicle off father’s hands?” You questioned with something of a playful tone, clasping your gloved hands behind your back as you continued the stroll up the drive. Amusement flashed across the man’s face as he stared down, aimlessly cleaning the tool with a rag that was filthy; his energy was cautious, and something about that made you want to bring his guard down.

“I couldn’t afford it, miss.” His tone seemed careful as his eyes turned up, mindfully watching your approach. Your lip quirked with curiosity.

“Shame; all week I’ve had to listen to him complain about how burdensome it is.” You came to a pause in the large doorway, studying the man more closely now that you had a better view of him, now that he wasn’t so obscured by shadows.

There was a softness to his features, from the gentle shape of his lips to the curls brushing across his forehead to even the cleanly kept mustache and beard adorning his jaw. His whole aura seemed to radiate with kind easiness, his expressive brows raised with an innocent wonder, as if he was awaiting something in particular.

But those eyes of his, so dark and doe-like, seemed to have an eternal sadness about them, a sadness buried so deep within the bones that it would never quite go away. That struck you as shockingly familiar - those were eyes you’d seen so many times before, eyes you’d known so well once upon a time.

Now, you were the one frozen with surprise, your brow first raising then furrowing, your lips parting slightly with words that never quite came to you. It couldn’t be the boy you once ran through fields with, the boy who always had a story to tell, the boy who had no expectations of you the way the rest of the world had. He was long gone, giving you a rushed and eager farewell as his father insistently tried to drag him away. And yet…

“Eddie?” Your voice came out a soft whisper, his eyes alighting with elation immediately. You saw the exact moment all his trepidation faded away, when his shoulders relaxed and his lips spread into an incredible, gleaming smile. You laughed a little in disbelief, your own face lighting up despite the fact that you still couldn’t quite comprehend it was him; your smile was so wide and fierce across your lips that your cheeks nearly hurt.

Propriety entirely forgotten, you dashed the short distance between you and Eddie, throwing yourself against him so forcefully and quickly enough that he coughed with surprise, your arms winding tightly around his neck as your laughter continued to ring in his ear. For a moment, he didn’t dare move, growing tense against you, as if he was afraid of touching you; but shortly thereafter, he breathed in your scent and snaked his arms around your middle, his palm pressed firmly against your back as he held you close.

“My god, I can’t believe you’re back.” You said gleefully against his ear, pulling back just enough to look at his matured face, your hands coming up to grab his cheeks as you studied him. Your gaze darted with delight over the planes of his face, taking in his familiar eyes, his new beard, the kind smile on his lips; you were practically awestruck at the sight of him, at the sight of how handsome he’d become, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Eddie’s expression softened as his hands reached up to cup yours, slowly removing them from his sweaty cheeks as if fearful the two of you would be caught like this. He looked between your eyes warmly, the smile now a permanent fixture on his face. His tone seemed nearly apologetic as he answered, “I thought the same.”

You gently wrapped your fingers around his, refusing to let go as you dropped your joined hands between you, “What brought you back?”

Your heart drummed a funny tune in your chest as you continued to gaze upon him, enraptured by the shock of your old friend’s return. Eddie paused to consider his words before answering, dipping his head a little as if sheepish, “I was homesick.”

You smiled at the simple answer, squeezing his hands in yours as a little laugh escaped you, “Oh, don’t tell me you missed this dusty old place; what does it have to offer someone who has surely had so many magnificent adventures?”

Eddie looked back at you as if you were a marvel - even after all this time, you’d held onto your sense of wonder, you continued to crave excitement as if it were the air you breathed. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all, as if you were still children sharing tales of the far and wide world that lived inside the depths of your minds. It tugged at Eddie’s heartstrings, a sadness creeping into his thoughts - he had spent so many years away, so many years without sharing stories and relishing in the company of one another. As you stood here with him, hand-in-hand, Eddie felt a deep longing, missing you even as you stared right at him.

“The adventures weren’t nearly as magnificent as you’d like to think.” He answered, to which you pulled a displeased face while waving a hand between you two, as if you were shooing away the words he just said like insects.

“Don’t tell me that. Are you not the same boy who always had a story to tell, whether fact or fiction?” You smiled at him fondly, which prompted him to mirror the expression, unable to resist your charm even now; Eddie figured he’d never quite be able to resist you no matter how hard he tried.

He shook his head with a small laugh, looking down at his feet; he noticed in that moment that he’d gotten oil on your pretty dress, but knowing you, you probably didn’t give a damn, “Don’t worry, I will always entertain you with stories, all you need to do is ask.”

You sighed pleasantly, pulling Eddie back into a quick hug simply because you couldn’t contain the joy you felt, “Is that a promise, Edward Munson?”

“Of course it is, Ms. Talbot.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a pleasant shiver running up your spine; those pesky feelings that had only started to blossom in your youth were already daring to come back, despite the years apart. You tried not to fall victim to folly, and yet the yearning you once had for the groundskeeper’s boy was coming back with even greater conviction, the flame fanned by the excitement of your unexpected reunion.

And it certainly didn’t help that little Eddie had grown up to be a handsome man, so easy on the eyes that you were already convinced you could stare at him for hours if he’d let you. Hell, you could probably spend days admiring that face without ever growing bored of him.

Your cheeks warmed as a yearning look passed between the two of you, and so you dropped your gaze while taking a step back, meandering around the garage as a means to calm yourself down, to hide the attraction you were oh-so clearly feeling towards him, “Tell me about your travels - tell me about all the places you’ve been.”

As you walked with grace and ease, your moves were almost hypnotic; Eddie cringed at the perfect greasy handprint he’d left on the small of your back, at the swipe of grime that was transferred from his cheek to yours - how he hoped that your father wouldn’t see you like this, or else Eddie would be fresh out of luck in gaining a job here at the estate.

You perched upon a large wooden work bench, fussing with your skirts as they twisted around your feet; you both spotted another spill of oil on the lilac fabric, but you simply made an unconcerned face at it before dropping the folds of fabric from your hands. You directed your attention back to Eddie, raising your brows expectantly as an easy smile graced your lips.

Eddie licked his lips with a grin, shaking his head pleasantly while attempting to focus on all the work still to be done on the car, “I’ve been many places, though none appropriate for a woman like you.”

You scoffed with an amused eye roll, “And when have I ever been held back by what is and is not appropriate for me?”

Eddie faintly laughed, “You never have and you never will.”

You leaned forward while resting your hands atop your knees, a wicked look on your face, “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Sharing a familiar laugh, Eddie began to regale you with tales of getting arrested in New York City and Boston, of stirring up trouble in Virginia and Tennessee. His ability for storytelling had only sharpened after so many years, and you found yourself mesmerized by his way with words, the way his body language always complimented the stories he told.

He spoke of robberies and bar fights, of friends made and friends lost along the way; you were not inclined to believe all the words that left his mouth, but the two of you had always preferred the thrills of a good story to the facts of a boring life. It was like a silent agreement between you two to make a tale interesting, even if that required embellishment.

It was so easy to be with Eddie again, so easy to sit and listen to him talk, to laugh alongside him and share wicked smiles. How could thirteen years have come and gone when this moment felt timeless, as if you were once more four or six or eight years old, hanging onto every single word that left Eddie’s mouth?

He was striking to you, utterly remarkable, the way his stories came to him with such ease even as he fussed with car parts that just wouldn’t work. The way he’d look to you just to see your reaction following a particularly harrowing plot twist made you squirm; the way his grin would spread from ear-to-ear at the sound of your laughter made your cheeks flush with warmth.

Your innocent childhood together was felt heavily as you listened to Eddie’s tales - memories of climbing trees and splashing in puddles ever so vibrant behind your mind’s eyes. There was an anxious thrill in your chest that made this different, however, a swirling sensation in your stomach reminding you that things had changed even as they stayed the same. Each smile Eddie shot you was nearly breathtaking, each cheeky wink like a piercing arrow in your heart. You knew better than to let yourself become excited by him like this, and yet it couldn’t be helped, the fire had started burning the moment you laid eyes upon each other.

Even as you listened and laughed attentively, you tried to tell yourself that this was simply your childhood crush briefly reigniting, that the excitement would die down soon enough and you would simply see each other as friends from the distant past. You knew how your love of stories could tint the way you viewed the world, how the romance novels stacked around your room had always given you a longing for a love like fiction. You couldn’t allow those desires to trick you now, but you couldn’t resist, your entire being reacting to something so simple as Eddie smiling at you with all the softness in the world.

Time had gotten away from you as you sat there enchanted by his stories, and once he’d finally completed his work on that damned motor car, you were surprised by just how much the sun’s position had changed in the sky. You and Eddie shared a look of disbelief as he tidied the tools and put everything back in its place, the both of you clearly having been trapped within a bubble where time didn’t exist. You hopped up eagerly from your seat, exiting the garage alongside Eddie as he looked up at the manor with hesitation.

You grabbed his hand again, to which he met your eyes attentively; You grinned from ear-to-ear, just like you did as a child when you decided the day was still young and there was so much more to be explored, “Walk with me? I’ll show you all the changes your uncle has made to the gardens, they’re magnificent.”

Eddie smiled sadly, which caused you to falter slightly; had you misread something about the past couple of hours? Despite every fiber of his being wanting to cave to your each and every whim, he knew better. He gave a small shake of his head while glancing at your home once more, “I must speak with your father - I can only stay should my work on the car be sufficient. And he’s asked me to… behave myself around you.”

You frowned, your lips forming a beautiful pout as your brows turned down. You were reminded that you were adults now, that neither of you had the freedoms of children. You knew you had to let Eddie go, but how you wished you could simply drag him away to hide in the hedge maze or the woods until all responsibilities and expectations faded away.

Righting your expression, you sighed and nodded with acceptance, locking your eyes firmly with his, “Tonight then. After supper, meet me in the gardens.”

It was a plea, even as you spoke as if it were a command. Eddie inhaled sharply, excited by the suggestion but also terrified that the two of you might be found out - your childhood innocence was gone, and it could cause trouble for you to be found together like that. But that look in your eyes, so fiercely determined, made it impossible for him to deny you; Eddie already knew that, even now, he could never deny you.

“Tonight.” He whispered with a nod, causing you to smile wide. Eagerly, you placed a kiss on the palm of your hand, then pressed it longingly to Eddie’s cheek, causing his eyes to nearly flutter shut; he leaned into the touch with such reverie that it made your heart swell.

“Now go, distract my father so he won’t see me like this.” You instructed with reference to your dress that he had dirtied. Eddie laughed smally with one more nod, stepping away from you as if it were burdensome to do so; he began to round the manor back towards the front doors, pausing once to shoot you a playful look before disappearing beyond a corner.

You waited another few moments before scurrying off towards the kitchen entrance, hoping that Magda could somehow get these grease stains out of your favorite dress.

[PART TWO] | [MASTERLIST]

addt. A.N | The taglist is open for anyone interested in being notified about updates! I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this first chapter ♥

taglist | @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson @duncanhillscoffeecups

@eddiernunson @ilovetaquitosmmmm @jasminelafleur @lavendermunson @littlexdeaths

@marlena-marlena @mmmunson @skrzydlak @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em #when the wolfsbane blooms

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idyllcy · 3 days ago

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soul ("are we mates?" "why the hell wouldn't we be?")

leon kennedy x reader || childhood friends / vague college au

wc: 840 || summary: what's the need of a label in the face of stability?

You wonder some days if Leon's grown tired of being friends with you.

You hadn't really gotten close to him until the two of you were in high school — and even then, the two of you didn't attend the same school. He had gone to one of the privates in the area while you had transferred out to a public, and it was strange that the two of you would find yourselves on the giant oak tree between your two homes, talking about your day and catching each other up on news about people you barely knew.

You barely knew your classmates when you had gone to middle school with him.

He didn't know any of your friends. Only a handful of faces from when the neighborhood would gather together to barbeque once a year.

That's how it started, and it was surprising when Leon had gotten accepted into your dream school and you had somehow made it off the waitlist.

You'd never seen Leon so excited over something — and he had begged you to accept even when you mentioned that maybe money would be a problem.

"Pull up. Please."

"I might go insane without you, yeah."

"More the reason to come."

And then you had felt like the two of you had grown apart. Staring at him in the shared club meetings, him no longer willing to drive you alone in his car because of... boundaries, or whatever. You had given him a look when he told you, and you shook your head. It doesn't matter as long as the two of you still talk.

You find a bench in the park at the dorms to chat with him on.

The oak of the tree in your home has become an oak bench.

"Do you tire of me, Leon?"

He blinks at you, laughing.

"Couldn't dream of it."

You cling onto pieces of the two of you in the past when he used to bring you small things when traveling, winking at you as he would present you with silly things he found that he knew you'd like. To be loved is to be known. perhaps. You don't know. You don't know what Leon thinks of you. It's unsurprising that the two of you had lasted so long as friends. You're not into him — at least, he isn't adjacent to your type. A strange exception you'd learned to make. His family never questioned what happened after he locked his door after 10pm.

You'd stayed up til 4 with him on the tree once.

You don't know what you feel for Leon.

An overwhelming affection and happiness, maybe. You just adore him so much it's incredible. You doubt you've ever felt so much affection for someone. But it's not quite romance. No. Not love. It's more... affection. Overwhelming affection that you feel when you have so much security in a relationship that neither of you really need to say anything to the other.

"I love you" You laugh.

"Appreciate you too."

Whether it's romantic or platonic no longer really matters to you, you don't think.

It's plenty to be the only person he texts back when he's arranging rides for the club, eyes lighting up when he spots you in the crowd, waving and flicking his chin up. You learn the sign he holds up with his hand when he's in agreement. You bleed and ooze with his habits the same way he picks yours up, giving you a look instead of saying something he knows he'll regret, your drink order memorized as he chews on the jelly he's pretty sure he'd never have without you, and the single photo you had posted of the absolute joy on your face while laughing saved in his phone (a secret he'd take to the grave).

But it doesn't matter how you feel or look because Leon makes you feel so much stability in your relationship that you can't help but laugh until you can't breathe, head thrown back in glee when it's just the two of you, and you don't feel anything when he asks you to help his cousin — you do not need to know what you are. Friends, something more, soulmates even — because Leon and you know that it's not something that a simple word could even begin to define.

"What are you gonna do without me?"

"Die, probably. Joke."

"I'd die without you too. I'd probably be dead already."

You wonder occasionally if he's tired of you, and sometimes you'll say it, sometimes you don't, but when Leon raises a brow at you after you message him that you're starting to feel tired, he'll just take over the conversation naturally and let you slip off.

So, no.

You doubt you'd ever get tired of being friends with Leon, and, well, you're sure he'd say the same.

"You tired of being friends with me?"

"We are for lifers. We can NOT stop being friends. You have too much blackmail on me."

"And if you get married?"

"That's not a problem of the present. No use thinking of a future that isn't here yet."

"Damn, okay, deep."

"Oh, shut up."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #reader insert #☾.fics #yes i know no fics this month but i wrote this and want this on here bc this is kinda a nice piece #Leon s Kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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sanjoongie · 11 months ago

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𝐇𝕠ռ𝜚𝘺𝘦𝒅 𐐛𝗶ҽ𝒔 𝑎𝒏𝖽 ɑ 𝓢ѡℯ𝟈𝘁 𝙱ꭵ𝚝ⅇ

📗Thrill of the Hunt collab Masterlist

📗Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin (Gean-Canach Fae) x Reader x Choi San (Part Fae Part Hound of the Hunt)

📗Au: Fae au, Artist au, Writer au

📗Trope: s2l, mated pair, lovers to enemies

📗Genre: smut, angst, dark themes

📗Warnings: ⚠Please be aware of the dark themes featured in this fic⚠ imprisonment, slave/servant treatment, mentions of blood, death, violence (choking), humans kept for breeding, cannibalism, torture, broken heart, pregnancy

📗Kinks: prey/predator, penetrative sex without a barrier, knot dynamics, imprinting "mated" sex, celibate! San, feral sex, biting, baiting San into fucking you, "just the tip" mentality but from the reader!, rip-able clothes, aphrodisiac (willingly taken by reader), slight hate sex mentality, breast worship

📗Summary: after being lured to the Fae Realm by Hyunjin on a false pretense, you decide enough is enough and risk attempting to escape your pretty prison. What you didn't expect was to fall for the Fae that was sent to bring you back.

📗Word Count: 10,331

📗Dedication: @mejuii speedy beta reader @stardragongalaxy provided Txt's Kelpie! Kai cameo, @flurrys-creativity 's winged Faerie! reader & Brownie! Changbin, and finally @anyamaris 's reader makes a cameo as well as Rose! @smallfrye who let me get excited about this and bounce ideas off of her

📗Songs to listen to while reading: Seventeen's Monster, Jackson's Bullet to the heart, Ateez's New World

“Oh human!” A melodic voice called into your room.

You sighed loudly and closed the book you had been reading. You may live in a wondrous set of rooms in a tower at the end of a valley, but it was a prison all the same.

“Hyunjin,” You sighed, “You could at least refer to me by my name.”

Hyunjin threw the doors open to the room you currently inhabited. “Ash is so dull. Like you're what comes after a great fire.”

Your mouth felt like it was full of ash. Hyunjin never hid how quickly his passion for you became ash. Now you were simply a human caught in the fae realm, his muse for creativity when he, as an immortal, could find none.

Still, Hyunjin prattled on, not swayed by his purpose. “What have you been working on?”

There was no use trying to keep it away from him. He would cajole it out of you sooner or later. You tilted your book towards him and he peered over. His intelligent and bright eyes moved with alacrity, consuming the words you had put to paper. He smiled in glee, wicked and cunning. “I know the perfect painting for that.”

This was the ever-turning of your life. You couldn't tell the pass of time, not like in the mortal realm. There were different seasons, but Hyunjin lived in a valley that was permanently caught in the throws of high summer. So the only way to judge the passing of time was your works, and the works of Hyunjin that followed after. Either he would create from inspirations of your writing or you would write from inspirations of his paintings. It was a torturous pairing, and one that you would sever, if only you could.

You had first met Hyunjin when you were a burgeoning writer. You were young and fearless but also clueless. Hyunjin had been a gorgeous temptation. His sharp mind was what lured you in, another kindred spirit of the arts. You had fallen fast for the beautiful man, but he had a secret.

“If only I could bring you back with me,” Hyunjin sighed as the sun set. He leaned against the windowsill of your tiny cottage.

“Back to the city?” You wondered curiously, interest suddenly piqued.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s amazing there. So many others like us, who love the arts and want to live their lives surrounded by the arts.”

“We can go!” You jumped up, cheeks flushing at the pleased look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you say your elder sister frowned upon our companionship?” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You sighed heavily. “Oh, poo, she can sit on a stick. I want to live my own life.”

Despite your elder sister's warnings about Hyunjin, your head was full of dreams of creating a life with others that honored the arts--unlike everyone else in your tiny, back water village. You followed Hyunjin, hand in hand, down your well-worn road and into the forest. Hyunjin sent you a mischievous smile when you wondered why you had left the road.

“This is a special shortcut,” he said.

A jolt of excited electricity shot through you at the thought that perhaps shortcut was an euphemism for some slap and tickle, perhaps Hyunjin would indulge you with his head between your legs like you had fantasized--

“Over here,” Hyunjin brought you back to reality, tugging your arm towards a mushroom circle.

“You’re not about to lure me to a faerie circle, are you, Jinnie?” You teased back.

“And what if I was?” Hyunjin drew you into the circle of his arms just barely hovering before the circle.

“I would follow you there,” You murmured back, drunk on his attentions.

It took a while to settle into the fact that Hyunjin was Fae. As soon as the two of you crossed over into the Fae Realm, his glamor had been dismissed. The delicate curve of his ears was the most apparent, along with the blast of his power, it practically radiated off of him, alluring and warm like the sunshine of the realm you had crossed over into.

The sex perhaps distracted you from the majority of the way Hyunjin mindfucked you into believing this was the life you had traded for. The first time he bent you over your desk to fuck you, was titillating.

“I’m here to give you inspiration,” he murmured into the shell of your ear.

His flowing shirt fluttered over your lower back as he pressed into you. “My muse,” he cooed and continued to enter you until he hit the end of you.

“Hyunjin!” You whimpered, nails digging into the oak wood below you.

“This is only the beginning of the pleasures I can give to you,” Hyunjin promised.

He urged your upper body to lift up, so that he could whisper further honeyed lies into your ear. He waxed poetic of the world the two of you would live in; he would wrap himself around you for years and you would write and he would paint and your lives would be fulfilled.

This was when he imprinted on you, biting into your shoulder and connecting you with himself forever. You heard from the lesser Fae that imprinting was usually meant to connect two Fae, like a pact of marriage. Your heart surged when you heard this, sure in your decision to follow Hyunjin away from your mortal life.

And for a decade or two, you were so utterly in love with Hyunjin, that you grew ignorant of the way he treated you. Hyunjin kept you locked up in a wonderful tower. He told you it was to keep you safe from the other Fae, even though he was never a threat to you. He told you the tower let you view the city, the valley, all the inspiration a writer would need. And it worked.

Until he stopped visiting your bed, stopped whispering honeyed lies about how much you meant to him. Oh, he meant every word that you meant a lot to him for he could not lie, but it was not about love, like you had been interpreting it. Hyunjin valued you for your human emotions, for your human imagination. Being immortal meant that you grew bored, you lacked any new sights, but a human--a human was full of new eyes and thus the perfect muse.

When you caught up with his trickery, it was too late. You were bound in your pretty prison, bound to repeat whatever Hyunjin wanted in order for him to live his best immortal life. And that’s when your summary, lovely, warm life started to leak its colorfulness.

You started to rebel and truly learned what it was to be at the mercy of a Fae Master. Hyunjin didn’t take well to you refusing to create anything for him. Your first set of punishment was to be worked as a servant for the Fae. You spent a spell as a food server but the atrocities you were privy to truly opened you up to the world you were trapped in. Torture was a passing amusement for Fae while they ate. You once watched a starving human be served up their own foot and ate it.

But nothing was worse than the months you were forced to serve the humans that were kept in the breeding pits. “You should watch your tongue, mortal, before I cast you in with that lot,” Hyunjin had threatened you when you broke your quill and threw your book out of your window.

Certain humans were kept in a series of cells in the very tower you were trapped in, unbeknownst to you. The Ciaradh court loved to study humans and they were constantly obsessed with creating new young. Some Fae theorized that getting a human fat with child was easier than bunnies fucking in spring, so there was a dedication to seeing if it was so true.

There were chances when said breeding humans were ‘walked’, for their benefit of course. Hyunjin would also, upon feeling like boasting of his Human Muse, take you for a walk in the beautiful cultivated gardens surrounding the tower. Of the flowers that grew there, there was one that was a washed-out blue, a rose that seemed to get skimmed over, but you were drawn to it. It was an imperfect color that reminded you of the skies in the human realm, unlike the perfect summer-sky blue that this realm always seemed to maintain.

You remembered this particular poor human, in a ratty white dress that barely covered her modesty, whom you had fed in the breeding pits. This one you found a few times smiling at a bluebird singing to her. You had fondly called her Rose, for you two were the only ones who admired the washed-out blue rose that the Fae sneered at for its imperfection--that only made it more beautiful to the two of you.

Back to the current time, where Hyunjin was painting something dark and seductive--which matched your mood to a T from your writings that you showed him. You couldn't help but resent the fact that he could still pull creatively from you, despite your connection to him remaining solely in the fact that he had imprinted on you because of his ambitions.

Hyunjin put down his paintbrush and sent a look your way; you knew what that look meant, he was going to torture you. You were starting to wonder if physical torture might be preferred to the methods Hyunjin enjoyed.

“Doesn’t she look like she’s enjoying herself?” Hyunjin wondered at his painting.

The painting wasn’t completed but you couldn't help but agree. The human lady in question, flowing robes not bothering to conceal her nakedness, had a Fae at her throat and a Fae between her legs. She was giving and taking, caught between violence and passion; exactly where you wanted to be.

“Yes,” You said dryly.

“Oh, come on now!” Hyunjin stood up from his stool, “No need to be jealous!”

“I’m hardly jealous, Hyunjin,” You spat.

Hyunjin’s eyes, dark and cruel, focused on you. “That’s right. It could be worse. I could throw you to the hounds, see if they eat you up or create a new mongrel for the court.”

Your anger seethed through you, fear interwoven within. “You’re so very considerate,” You replied blandly, attempting not to rise to Hyunjin’s barbs, even though you knew he could tell exactly how you felt, through your bond.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun anymore, human.”

When Hyunjin left, you threw a fit. You threw books and tore papers, spilled ink and broke quills. And when you were done letting your anger course through you, you were left with a broken heart and a near-broken mind. You couldn't do this anymore, you simply couldn't. Centuries more like this and you were likely to truly go mad, and the worst thing was, that would delight Hyunjin all the more. That you could not let happen.

You had to escape.

You knew what happened to humans who ran. The stories were practically drummed into you after Hyunjin broke your heart but wanted to dissuade you from even risking the chance. You knew the consequences, the repercussions. But what if you could twist and tailor this escape to benefit you? You had lived amongst the Fae long enough to have learned a trick or two.

For weeks, the plan coiled and formed in your mind. If you ran, Hyunjin’s bond would direct him where you were. But Hyunjin was a spoiled rotten Fae, he wouldn’t dirty his hands and go after you. He would run back to his parents, for he was from the Oidhche court originally. When you were still starry-eyed for the Fae world, Hyunjin would fill you with stories from the darker realm. He told you of how they would hunt humans for sport, to make you squeal and giggle. But you distinctly remember the stories about the Hound.

The Hound was a cautionary tale but a useful one. During one of the many wars between the courts, a Fae Hound had been changed from a dog to a humanoid form. It had been a way to save one Fae from fighting teeth and claws. That Hound had survived the war, miraculously, and gone on to settle down with a Fae woman. They had copulated and made a child, who much to the horror of the mother, had his father’s characteristics that he had kept hidden. The child was left at the mercy of the dark forest within the Oidhche court’s borders, but had grown up, albeit a bit more wild than most Fae children, which was saying something, really. That Hound Child was indebted to Hyunjin’s father who had taken him in, and that particular Fae would be sent to bring you back.

How were you going to escape when a Fae who was part Hound of the Hunt was tracking you? Well, you had an answer for that. You see, Hyunjin had also taken great glee in telling you said Hound was celibate, and had been for as long as Hyunjin could remember. So if you could offer the hound sex, tempt him with breaking his vow, he would be forsworn and nothing meant more to a Fae than his word. He would be worthless and without standing in his court. He would be… at the same level as a human, basically a death sentence. You could work with that. You would need a liquid aphrodisiac to prepare yourself for the seduction but you knew in your gut you would need more to seduce a century’s old Fae.

Hyunjin found your rooms the next day in ruins. But the true fact that actually made his face cloud over in anger was his ruined painting. That sent you to servants quarters. They put you on duty to the breeding pits, delivering their pittance of food.

You found Rose in a bad place and yet still she found a smile for you. An idea struck. It was very clear that Rose was recovering from a game played with her body and a Fae. You told Rose of your idea to escape and asked to exchange your clothes for the provocative dress that covered Rose’s body.

“Are you sure about this?” You couldn't help but worry that Rose would get in trouble for losing her dress.

Rose’s smile was strong despite her fragile appearance. “Even if they take it from me tomorrow, at least I’ll have slept in some clean clothes that were warm for one night.”

Rose’s attitude, despite what the world had thrown at her, only made you steel your spine. You were going to be like Rose and persevere. You were going to leave this place behind.

Hyunjin’s visits, however, were throwing you in a loop. You had a pack prepared and stashed for weeks before you were given an opportunity. If you left and Hyunjin found you gone too quickly, your escape would be pointless. So you had to wait until Hyunjin visited you next but there was no rhyme or reason to Hyunjin’s visits.

All you could do was work on perhaps the last thing you might write in your human life.

You wrote a story thinking of your sister, of your childhood, of how not everything was better on the other side of the grass. You wrote and distracted yourself and soon enough Hyunjin visited. You showed him your work, his eyes gleamed with inspiration and then he visited for three days before his painting was finished. And if you were honest with yourself, his painting was one of his best in decades.

Hyunjin eyed you curiously. “What’s got you suddenly so fired up? You haven’t written something that refreshing in years?”

You shrugged. “I’ve got a new lover.”

Hyunjin blinked at you blankly for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. He would have felt your lust if you were having sex with someone else through the bond. He knew how lonely you were for companionship, it practically wafted off of you when he visited. Hyunjin clutched his arms around his belly before finally he wiped some tears from his eyes. “Well, whatever it is, keep it up. I might let you come back to court if you do.”

Honeyed lies were Hyunjin’s specialty. He had you living off hopes and dreams forever until you let your love for him die for him. He would promise the world and mean it but there was no keeping track of the amount of loopholes he could find. He was Fae after all.

Once Hyunjin left, you could hardly contain yourself until nightfall. Then, during when the moon rose to its highest peak, you stole into the night in a dress that would lure every predator out. You ducked your head and told each guard passing that you were finally destined for the pits. They either made noises of sympathy or laughed at your demise, having seen you with Hyunjin during one time or another.

That was how you made your way down the Tower. At the base, you brightly informed that guard that Hyunjin had finally taken you back. You watched as a romantic look passed through his eyes and he let you go. For Fae that twisted the truth to their own benefit, slipping through them as a lying human sure was satisfying.

You pulled out a map and followed the landmarks to quickly get out of Ciaradh and cross over into Oidhche territory. Hyunjin would think you were an idiot, moving closer to the Fae that would be hunting you but that was all a part of your plan. You wanted the Hound to find you.

First things first, you had to get out of Ciaradh.

The various cities were easy to avoid. It was the faerie mounds and valleys that made it hard to travel. There was nowhere to hide. Just the beautiful rolling hills, which was the other reason why you wanted to get to Oidhche.

There was one place that you spotted and thought perhaps it would give you relief. A tree had fallen high atop a hill. With its roots still clinging to the earth, it made an impromptu overhang. You’re not sure if an ogre had knocked down the beautiful, solitary tree or perhaps the earth was simply taking back what once it gave, but either way, the hair on your arms rose with the feel of power once you reached the shadow of the overhang.

This was a well of the natural magic of the Fae realm. With it, you would be hidden from the majority of any Fae magic. The natural magic simply messed with anything else. Except you weren’t the only one that thought that it was a good hiding place for a human fleeing.

During the early morning after you had slumbered in the well of magic, you heard talking and shouting, waking you up immediately. “Oh, Yeon-Yeon, are you hiding here?”

You froze as an adorable female Fae with wings poked their head from the top of the overhang. “You’re not my human,” she said, clearly perplexed. “He’s not here, Binnie!” The head disappeared and you thought perhaps your luck won out. It had not.

The female fairie yanked you by your arm and half flew, half dragged you out to show the other Fae she was with, that you were, in fact, not ‘Yeon-Yeon’. You protested and ended up landing on your ass in front of a very buff Brownie. “I told you he isn’t smart enough to hide here!” She scoffed.

He frowned down at you, arms having a hard time crossing over his chest, but contemplated you with a hand at his chin. “But I swore I smell him this way.”

“Are you sure we can’t just take this one? She’s adorable too!” The female cooed at you. You slapped her hand when she reached to bop your nose.

Binnie’s frown deepened. “No. We have to find OUR human, Heart. This is not our hunt. And you know we must respect another’s hunt. Now respect ours and leave that human.”

The female sighed heavily. “Fine. I don't like that one anymore anyways. She’s not that cute if she slaps.”

After your encounter with the two Fae, you continued to hit your streak of bad luck. You almost got lured into a satyr’s traveling party, where the music got your feet tapping and dancing, and you would never stop. As a human, it was a death sentence. You ate a flower that you thought you read gave you night vision but in fact made you believe the opposite of everything you thought true. You almost backtracked a full day before it wore off--your feet trying to take you back to Hyunjin.

You almost cried in relief when you saw a dark forest in the distance. That was the territory marker for Oidhche. You had felt Hyunjin’s rage a few nights ago zoom through your bond and you knew that the hound would be sent to retrieve you. The second part of your plan was about to come into effect and you couldn't help but be excited. And that’s when you downed the Faerie Dew, preparing to seduce a Fae.

🐕🐕🐕

“Get up, Hound.”

A boot kicked San’s foot and he rolled his eyes upwards slowly in response. “Hyunjin,” He acknowledged.

Hyunjn’s eyes scrunched up into half moons, malicious delight beaming from them. “I’ve got a job for you.”

“I don't do jobs for you,” San retorted and closed his eyes again.

“It’s an order from my father,” Hyunjin said tightly.

San sighed heavily. “What is it?”

“It’s time for you to hunt down a little lost human,” Hyunjin revealed.

San rolled his eyes and stood up. He rolled his neck, cracking it dramatically. “Why do I feel like this has to do with you?”

To say that San did not like Hyunjin was an understatement. San was a useful tool to have in the household he was adopted into but Hyunjin was the prized son. Where San was made to work and toil, sneered at by the majority of his peers, Hyunjin was sought after, praised and elevated. The two had never liked each other; Hyunjin because San was the son his father chose and San Hyunjin because he was never a beloved son.

“It doesn’t matter why the command was given, just follow it like the good little doggie you are,” Hyunjin sneered.

“At least I didn’t flee my family because I couldn't live up to their expectations,” San shot back, balling his fists and readying for a fight.

But San would get none. Hyunjin’s power was not in his fists but in his words. “Go fetch my scraps, doggie. That’s all you’re good for, after all.” Hyunjin threw a piece of personal clothing of yours at San and turned around.

Every muscle in San’s body tensed but he knew he could not attack his benefactor’s son. He would lose the tiny foothold he had in the Oidhche Court, however tiny it was, it was something he clung to. He would always want to be a part of the Fae, to prove he was worthy of remaining amongst them; that he was not an animal.

Hyunjin walked away, confident that he came out on top, and from his point of view, he had. But San had the true last word.

“I’ll fetch her and come back and be told that I am his most worthy son, that you are worthless, and that I should have been born to him.”

🐕🐕🐕

San transformed to his other form, a Hound of the hunt, in order to use his abilities to the best. His sleek, powerful form ran through the Oidhche dark woods and marshes, ruins and lakes. He followed your scent, nose to the ground, taking only time to drink water and rest only minutes at the time. His endurance could take him far but his determination even farther.

Something San did not call was that he would encounter another Fae on the hunt. He drew abreast with a horse that was not a horse. San recognized Kai in his other form, the dark horse with long fangs, a Kelpie.

Kai, like himself, was a bit of an outcast within the Oidhche court. Kai had slowly become blind when he changed courts and was looked down upon, like San was as a half-breed. They weren’t friends but more like allies in a world that saw them as the bottom of the barrel of Fae.

Kai threw his head to signal that they should veer towards a nearby lake and San barked in reply. The two of them slowed their pace and then changed forms, to speak to each other.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” San said first, cupping his hands and pouring water over his head from the lake.

Kai looked amused. “I’m hunting a human but what’s your excuse?”

“Fetching trash for the master’s son,” San grumbled.

Kai’s amusement slowly melted away. “You should snap it’s neck then.”

San ran a hand through his hair, shaking out access water, and stood up. “Wish I could. You know we can never interfere with a hunt. An escaped human is an escaped human.”

Kai’s slightly amused expression was back and present. San recognized it as Kai’s default face, the mask he wore at court. “Then we should do what’s in our power to help each other out.” Kai gestured with his chin towards the lake that spanned far and wide. “I’ll help you cross the lake.”

San shutdown the feeling of gratitude and surprise he felt immediately. Kai wouldn’t be able to see it anyways but his court training of not truly revealing what he felt kicked in regardless. “That would be appreciated.”

Kai waded into the water and changed form once again. This was his third form, his truest form. His upper half was that of a horse and the lower part of a fish. San rode on Kai’s upper back, amazed at the speed of the kelpie. That lower half that was tail helped them sail through the lake’s waters and Kai’s Kelpie presence kept all the other, nastier, baser Fae away. What would have been hours of circling around the lake was cut in half as Kai swam through the center of the lake and delivered San on the other shore.

Kai changed back to his human form to rest but jauntily saluted San as San turned back into a hound and went back to his hunt.

📗📗📗

Your attitude once you were inside the dark forest was a bit 50/50. Your heart was in your throat, knowing at any moment a Fae Hound would be on your heels, and you were excited for that, but what if he never changed into his human form? What if he simply clamped his jaws around your wrist and dragged you back to his master…back to Hyunjin?

Soon, you felt like the forest was fighting against you. Branches tore at your bare arms as if they were trying to slow you down. Roots threw themselves in your way, trying to trip you up. Noises, that which you had never heard during the years you had lived in the Fae Realm, haunted you. There was a small part of your human mind that knew you shouldn’t be here but was that a part of the dark spell that was this forest or was that instinct kicking in for you to survive?

Your lower half was slick and wet, preparing for someone to fuck you and that conflicted with your state of mind. How could you be so turned on but so terrified about what was around each thick, gnarled tree trunk? Did your heart beating in your throat add to the throbbing of your cunt? It had been so very long since the last time Hyunjin had fucked you, perhaps this hadn't been a good idea to tempt yourself, and fate, like this…

A loud howl broke through your inner thoughts and you shivered in response. The hound had found you. You knew it in your bones that this was the defining moment that would free you… or break you.

You broke out into a run, stumbling at first and then becoming hyper aware of everything. The rocks that you had to jump over, ducking under low-hanging branches, you ran in the opposite direction of where the howl had sounded.

“Please, please, please, please,” You chanted to yourself. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, the need to fuck and to survive prompting them. You dashed them away with the back of your hand. That wasn’t going to help.

Soon, the howls began to get closer, and you could hear sharp barks. Did he smell your scent as a human or did he smell how wet your sex was? Was he eager for the hunt or for your cunt? Your heart and mind were working a million miles per second, the unknown playing with your mind.

A growl made you jump and you almost tripped and hit the ground. You caught yourself, pushing back up and running. You didn’t dare look back, afraid you would lose your courage in completing this if you did. You did hear a snapping of jaws and a snarl and you hoped that your planning would all work out in the end. It had to.

You gasped as something hard and real slammed into you and you finally fell. There were no nails digging into your shoulder blades nor teeth snapping at you, so you felt relief to know that the hound had changed into his humanoid form and sealed his fate.

The snarl in your ear was just as real as the body pressed up against you, pushing you into the soft, forest floor. The snarling tampered down to a quiet, curious growl. You could feel puffs of air along the skin behind your ear and then down your neck. Your pulse was beating wildly and you were worried for a moment that instead of this moment pushing towards lust, it would turn towards bloodshed like its original intent.

You pushed your ass back into the body above you and the snarling started up again. “Do not struggle, human, it’s futile.” The one on top of you was Fae, you knew that, but his melodic voice was not what you had expected.

“I think you like the struggle, pup,” You shot back at him.

You pushed and rubbed your ass further into the hard body and struggled to halt your smirk. You could feel him hard against the soft material of your dress. His hips pressed forward to pin you harder but he only managed to choke on a moan at the friction.

Just as soon as your body had been pushed against the ground, you were flipped over and hauled up with a harsh hand around your upper arm. The sharp cut of his jaw and cheekbones almost took the breath from your lungs, despite living amongst the beautiful fae for so long.

The hound opened his mouth to probably threaten you some more but no sound left it. His eyes scanned over your dress, that was ripped in a few places that definitely aided in your plan. The globes of your breasts were pushed up, the swell of your hips framed by the cut-outs in the dress, it was the perfect peekaboo dress.

His eyes snapped upwards to meet yours. “Where did you get such a garment?”

You smiled sweetly. “I live amongst the Fae. Is it so odd to acquire a few pieces of their beautiful clothing?”

The hound shook his head, almost as if he needed to clear it. “I’m taking you back now.”

You were still in close proximity, so you boldly pressed your hand to his tight leather pants. “This poses a problem, does it not?”

The whimper that escaped the hound’s lips made you clench your thighs tightly together. Anger immediately radiated from him. “Stop with your human tricks.”

You cocked your head. “Tricks? But I’m a mere human. What could I possibly offer?” The heel of your hand grinded down on the head of his cock and he gasped softly.

The hound grabbed your wrist and wretched your hand from his cock. His shoulders moved slightly, indicating you’ve got his breathing increased at least. “I am under a vow of celibacy, you will cease your antics.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “A willing vow of celibacy?”

The hound kept his grip on your wrist and began to tug you back the way he came. “I am a mongrel; I cannot further pollute the bloodlines,” He muttered over his shoulder.

You tugged back, trying to halt your movement, but just ended up slamming into the broad back of the Fae sent to bring you back to your life of torture and tedium. “I’m not Fae. You won’t muck up my bloodlines.”

You felt rather than heard the sigh from the hound. “A vow is a vow. Now, be quiet, it was hard enough tracking you down from one kingdom to another.”

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his tiny waist, fingers tracing his padded leather armor. “We don’t have to head back so soon,” you purred.

Once again, you were manhandled. Both of his hands clamped down on your wrists. With movement speed beyond a human’s comprehension, you were whisked around his body and pinned up against a tree now, your wrists in manacles made by his hands, the bark digging into your back.

“I don’t know what your intentions are, and I do not want to know. All I know is that I’ve been ordered to track a human pet that’s escaped from the Ciaradh kingdom and to drag her back. I’ve been ordered to bring you back alive but accidents can happen.” And in all his righteous anger, he was a glory to behold. You had struck gold, to be hunted by such a Fae.

You licked your lips in anticipation. You hooked one of your legs around his slim waist and arched your back. “Is it really breaking your vow if you slid into me just a wee bit? Surely getting your tip wet isn’t against the rules.”

You watched as the hound’s adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Why do you tempt me?” He whined, perhaps already feeling the temptation you were offering.

“You are temptation itself,” You whispered back. Your eyes moved over his features, strong and handsome. “How could one not want to tempt you?”

He scoffed, looking away. “You are a human drunk on Fae magic.”

“I have lived for a long time amongst the Fae. Their magic isn’t as strong as it used to be on me. I speak no lies,” You pushed.

The hound examined you for a moment, pursed his lips and then looked away again. “You could be lying about a lie, you are human after all, and do not have to adhere to our ways.”

“What do they call you, hound?” You wondered, feeling yourself falling into your own trap, in a way.

The hound’s eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “Why? I am nothing.” He shook his head. “You are a peculiar human.” When he saw you still waiting patiently, he professed his name was San.

“San,” You tested it out, like it was candy on your tongue. “It’s a good name to scream during ecstasy.”

You watched as his eyes changed, a fraction from his righteous anger, to curiosity. He simply did not understand why you were offering what you were. Surely he was used to the games the Fae played, he was one of them after all. But he did mention he was a mongrel. Perhaps he did not get treated as one of them?

You took the moment to wrap your other leg around his waist. San’s arms flexed to balance out the weight so that your upper half was still pinned successfully as your lower half pressed against him. “I’m offering a taste. Don’t you want it?”

“I have been celibate for more years than you have been trapped here,” San whispered, a tinge of sadness coating his words.

You weren’t sure when was the last time Hyunjin touched you. It had been so long that you gave up ever hoping for it again. It was odd to have such a thing in common with one of them. Your body was practically singing for San. This was how you survived but couldn't you perhaps enjoy it as well?

You rolled your body against San’s again, groaning lowly when your completely uncovered bottom half ran against San’s leather-covered groin. “Please.”

San’s precarious control snapped like a leash on a feral dog. His lips slanted over yours, tongue tangling with yours. His hands released your wrists and connected at the small of your back, urging your body against his. He sighed into your mouth, this time of relief instead of defeat, still kissing you in earnest, messy and full of saliva. Your hands curled around his jaw in an attempt to hold him in place, to gain control, but there was none of that with San.

He led the pace and the pace was grueling. He was rutting against you and you were very sensitive due to the aphrodisiac, the Faerie Dew, you had drunk. “Wait, wait,” You protested against his mouth, “You should be inside me, not against me.”

San panted heavily now, eyes wary and dangerous. “I should not. We can circumvent my vow this way. Simply take what I can give you, human.”

His sentence gave you a bad taste in your mouth, similar to how you felt after interactions with Hyunjin.

“Oh human!”

“My name is Ash,” You snapped.

San narrowed his eyes on you. “And I'm the Fae in charge of hunting you down. The Hound. We all know our place by now.”

You reached between your bodies and desperately pulled at the ties of his pants, undoing them and revealing something mouth-watering. Hyunjin had always been long and slender, but San’s cock was heavy and thick, something that looked like it deserved to part lower lips. “Goddess,” you cursed under your breath.

“Just the tip, right?” San reminded you, tongue coming out to lick his lips.

“Just the tip,” You reassured him and then sunk down on his cockhead.

You both groaned in unison, eyes rolling into the back of your heads. You started to move your hips when San’s hands grasped them hard. “Don’t move,” He ordered you.

“I plan on doing more than moving,” You informed him, lifting a little only to push him further into your heat.

“You--you can’t,” San whined, his eyes getting a faraway look.

“Who would imagine, a Fae pussy-drunk on a human’s cunt.”

San’s eyes sharpened on you. He pulled out of you completely and you almost cried out at the loss before he slammed into you full-hilt. Your breath was caught in your throat at that moment. You were so full and he was so thick--

“What’s wrong, Ash, stupid from my dumb mongrel cock?” San hissed into your ear. His nose ran along your neck, inhaling deeply.

“It’s so--” You desperately shook your head. You had a plan to enact, you couldn't afford to fall into the lust so deeply. Your life depended on this.

The hard snap of San’s hip against you had your body jolting. San’s eyes zeroed in on the mounds of your breast bouncing because of his harsh pace. He withdrew and then snapped into you, his head dipping low to lick the tops of your breasts. “So good,” He growled.

You wrapped your arms around San’s head, pushing him into your bosom. “Indulge in me,” You encouraged him.

“I--” San raised his head, looking as if he was barely treading water from his lust-filled mind.

“Take it,” You whispered, pressing your forehead back to his. “Take what’s freely offered. Take what you’ve been denied.”

San’s eyebrows furrowed again, pain and pleasure etched across his strong features. “I can?”

You reached down to the neckline of your dress and ripped it effectively freeing your breasts. “You can have whatever you want, San.”

It was off to the races after that. With the freedom to indulge, to experience, to take what he had been denied for so long, San was lost in his urges. He licked and sucked all over your breasts, leaving marks and bites, even whimpering when he fought over the need to hold them in place or leave his hands on your hips so he could hold you in place. His thrusts were calculated sometimes, looking to hit that sweet spot inside of you, to hear your moans of his name. The rest was lost to his passion, fucking into your wet pussy in search of his climax.

“Oh, Goddess, yes,” You cried out, feeling your climax approach. “Fill me up, pup.”

San’s eyes took on a look of fear for a moment. “I can’t!” You realized you had said the wrong thing.

“You can, you can!” You held his head between your hands, making him focus on just you. “I’m just a useless human cunt, right? You can just fuck me like you were fucking your hand. It’s the same thing.”

San shook his head. “It’s not the same. You don’t look at me with derision or perverse pleasure. You don’t play with me, you encourage me, you…”

You began to panic. Where was the feared Hound, the legendary Fae from the Oidhche court, who executed others with his teeth dug into their jugular, just at the whim of his master? Who was this creature peeking out of the mask, looking for softness, looking for heart? Fuck, what was that pushing feeling at the base of San’s cock?

You looked down and took San’s gaze with you as well. He paled at the sight of the base of his cock pushing outwards, almost as if-- “Nonono,” San began to chant, “I cannot--!”

You had to throw all caution to the wind, despite the worry that you were about to be connected to a Fae for a few hours, by the looks of things. Not what you wanted when you were about to make said Fae break a very important oath, but there was no avoidance of it, it seemed.

“Follow your instincts,” You whispered before slanting your lips over his. Your teeth tugged playfully with his bottom lip. “Let us both see the stars behind our eyes, come on, San.”

San whined but thrusted up into your cunt. “So close,” he allowed, closing his eyes as if he couldn't witness his own treachery.

You moved your body up and down on his length, encouraging his head into your bosom once again. “Fuck me San, fuck me full of your cum, release inside of me, release your beast, let yourself go.”

With a loud howl, his back arched and his head thrown back, San ejaculated inside of you. He panted and sighed and then the knot at the base of his dick stopped, the copious amount of cum he had just dumped inside of you, firmly sealed inside of you. The knot pushed against your g-spot and sent you into a spiraling orgasm you didn’t see coming.

You gasped, squeezing San even tighter to your breasts. “That’s it, pup, fuck, that feels so good.”

With a precious look sent up towards you, filled with raw emotion, San closed his eyes and then bit onto the mound of your tit. You were so deep into your climax that you almost didn’t register the pain but the flood of emotions that weren’t your own into your skull sure let you know what you had let happen a second time…

“San!” You panicked. “You! You imprinted on me!” What did that mean? Wait…

“Mine,” San said drowsily. A wave of satisfaction was felt through the new bond as he lazily lapped at your breast and then he started to sink to the ground.

“San? San!” You protested, your dress barely protecting you against the bark rubbing against you as you sunk with him.

“Tired,” He mumbled. His tongue absent-mindedly licked at his bite.

You had a dick tight inside of you, a large Fae slumped against you, and your tit hurt from a bite. This was not really how you were looking to finish this plan but perhaps this worked even better in your favor.

📗📗📗

“What have you done?!”

That rage and fear woke you up reasonably fast.

“What I had to do to get what I wanted,” You replied quickly.

“I have broken my vow!” San moaned, pacing a few steps from you.

You preened at your success. “And thus, you cannot go back. They will see your word broken. You will be worthless.”

San stopped his pacing. “...you planned this?”

“I've lived here for centuries and you think I'd just up and run away?” You sneered at him. “I may be human but I am not stupid.”

“And now I've even imprinted on you!” San looked horrified.

“That was your fault, I didn't do--”

Your words were choked off as San’s hands wrapped around your throat, long nails digging into the thin flesh of your neck. Your fingers clawed at him to let you go. San bared his teeth at you, peaks of fangs flashing between his lips that had previously been kissing you. A mental image of San’s raw glance before he bit you rushed through your mind and you whimpered.

San let you go just as fast as he started choking you. “You have ruined my life.”

You choked and coughed and gasped for air and choked again. “And I'd do it again. I'd do anything for my freedom.”

San started pacing again. “What is freedom when you have a home? You live in the Fae Realm, your life extended. All your days are warm and you do what you love. What is it that you're running away from?”

That's when it hit you. You weren't connected to Hyunjin anymore. You didn't have to feel anything of his mind or emotions again. You were finally free. You smiled in glee.

“It's not what I'm running away from, it's what I'm running towards,” You rasped.

San sent you a look that could have cut diamonds. “Do not wax poetic to me, human. I will only fall for it once.”

You raised your chin. “You will escort me to the nearest mushroom circle. I will leave this place.”

San shook his head, grinning and shaking his head. “You are truly not right in the head! What if you crumble into a pile of dust once you leave?”

“Then I will die disconnected from a man who broke my heart and that will make me happy,” You said firmly.

San carded his hand through his hair in frustration. “I can feel how determined you are!” He didn't say anything about the broken heart.

“And I'll have died after having some of the best sex I've ever had in my entire life.” San didn't need to know your only comparison was a village boy named Jake, Hyunjin and now he.

San frowned hard at you. “You still smell like it.”

“There's a lake back there--”

San stepped in your way. “No, you won't bathe there.”

You fetched your pack and changed into the set of clothes in there. “Make up your mind, San.”

You examined the bite on your breast mid-change, tutting at the mark that was now going to be there for the rest of your life. You patted your shoulder for the mark you had on your shoulder but without a mirror, you were unsure if it had healed or it would remain as well, even though it was nothing more than a scar rather than a tool to use against you.

“Do you have anything for the bite?” He asked.

“I have only food, water and clothing. I wanted to pack lightly for the journey,” You admitted.

San sighed. “I…I have a power. They don’t let me use it--I don’t want to use it! But… I’ve seen what happens to Fae when the one they’re imprinted with dies, so I will help you.”

You eyed him cautiously. “Pardon me if I don’t jump at the offer.”

“I’m not! Trying to trick you!” San insisted. His face was open and honest.

But still, your trust was not easily won. You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough damage.”

“Fine!” San huffed and immediately turned back into his hound form.

You swallowed hard, memories of that same hound hot on your heels, chasing you through the woods--you couldn't help it when a whimper escaped your throat.

San’s head cocked in curiosity and he padded over to you closely. You held still as he sniffed your head. You couldn't help but ease a bit when he licked your cheek. And then he licked your wound that you left uncovered in hopes it would heal in the open air. But when the bite started to tingle, you yelped backwards from him.

“What did you do?!” You demanded.

San whined and dug a foot into the soft ground. It seemed somewhat of an apology.

But when you looked down next, you watched as the bite healed. Oh, the scar was there, but it was as if it was days, even weeks healed. Did San’s tongue have healing abilities? Perhaps it was a result of his mixed heritage.

You shook your finger at him. “Just because you're in dog form, that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you!”

San’s head lowered and then he began to sniff the ground. He slowly followed its meander trail until he was almost in between your legs. You slapped his snout and he yelped. “I get it, I smell like sex, that does not excuse your nose from going to where it shouldn’t.”

San sneezed and you rolled your eyes. “Can you lead us to the nearest faerie ring or not?”

You followed San in hound form in a quick jog, the pace that the hound of the hunt set grueling for someone who spent the majority of their time sitting and writing. San would only wait for a few minutes as you gasped for breath and then he would bark sharply at you and you two would start running again.

“San! San, I can’t.” Eventually you called it quits, collapsing at a copse.

San transformed into his human form and sent you a disappointed look. “We would be twice as far if you weren’t a human.”

“Sorry I can’t change into a dog,” You spat.

“No but you sure are a bitch,” San spat back.

“Takes one to know one,” You retorted.

The two of you snapped and snarled at each other for the entire journey it took to get to the nearest faerie ring. This one was located deep in one of the dark forests, surrounding a tree that had a gap in the front of it; almost as if it was a door to the Mortal Realms.

“I can’t believe it.” It was almost too good to be true, that your plan had truly worked out and you were finally escaping the Fae--and leaving your past mistakes behind you. You knew the chances were slim that your sister was still alive, but if you had the chance to apologize to her, to tell her she had been right…

San stood a ways off, looking very closed off. “It’s not that different,” you conceded to him.

“I’ve never been there,” San admitted, face still very shut down.

“If a fragile human can live in your world,” You sent a knowing look his way.

You watched as San visibly straightened and shook his head. “You’re right.”

“Imagine that,” You muttered under your breath.

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, and for a moment, you were both equals. You were unsure, San was unsure, and neither of you wanted to be the first. So when you brushed San’s hand against his, and after a moment of hesitation he took it, you both stepped through the faerie ring and back into the Mortal Realms

📗📗📗🐕🐕🐕

It was a rough month when you crossed over. You were very lucky that only a day had passed in the Mortal Realms instead of centuries. You found your sister and she was in tears that you had left but you had a lot of explaining to do--especially when you came back with a different man that you had left with.

Eventually, with help from your sister, you and San were able to settle into a cottage that was in the next village over from where your sister still lived. For better or for worse, you and San had imprinted and that basically meant you two were married, so the illusion had to be maintained. You wrote and found a publisher in the closest big city, earning some coin in that regard, but San became a hunter for the surrounding villagers and that was truly how you were able to survive.

Regardless of how much San informed you on the daily that you had ruined his life and it was your fault he had to work for his keep, you saw a change in the Fae. The village was more than happy to receive the kills he took from the forest, unaware he actually took down the prey in his other form. San was very easily received in the village and that seemed to be the turning point for him. Other hunters and men of the village joked with him and you saw him lose the sharp edges he had acquired growing up in the Fae Realm.

One morning, when San had risen from your shared bed with the sun, to hunt, you lurched from the bed yourself and barely found your basin before you threw up into it.

San wrinkled his nose at you, one leg lifting to be put into his boot. “If you’re sick--” He paused, sniffing the air and then his eyes widened. You felt fear and hope surge through your bond with him.

You waved him off. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can catch.”

San blushed and that threw you off. He quickly put both his boots on and found a cloth for you to wipe your face with. You stared at him with intense scrutiny. Although the two of you lived like husband and wife, San didn’t go out of his way to be kind to you. You were the reason he was reduced to a mortal’s boring life, after all.

“Ash…” San offered his hand to you, and you took it, but you were confused.

“What’s going on?” You demanded.

San looked a bit bashful, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “You are going to have to endure a change in me. It is a part of a Fae male to become extremely territorial when their partner is pregnant--”

“Excuse you!?” You screeched.

San flinched at your volume. “You’re pregnant, Ash.”

You blinked at him several times, still unable to comprehend. “But we haven’t…”

San’s eyes shot upwards to the ceiling. “It only takes one time.”

You felt your knees weaken and San quickly escorted you to your bed to sit. “It can’t be.”

“I can smell the change in your smell. You have morning sickness. Have you bled since we’ve been back?” San inquired gently.

You shook your head. “I just thought my body was adjusting from one realm to the other, I didn’t--”

A child only bound the two of you tighter. Your heart sank. San was only going to hate you more for this. “I promise, I didn’t plan this!” You protested.

“Human,” San started and you felt anger surge through you.

“Don’t you dare make our baby hate me, you will not refer to me as such in their presence!”

San, the bugger, had the audacity to smile shyly. “I would never think of it.”

You frowned. “Why are you being so weird? Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

San shrugged. “I told you. Things are going to change.”

And change they did. Your sister was ecstatic. Not completely won over by San personally, she still admitted he was a good provider and in the very least, she was excited for a new niece or nephew. You worried about her approval but it seemed like she had no care for the fact that it was part Fae.

The biggest change was San. His shrewd eyes were always on you. You never seemed to have enough pillows or blankets to cover you or keep you comfortable. He was constantly asking if you needed more food. He worried about the baby non stop. But the minute he pushed his head against your stomach, to use his hound hearing to listen to the baby’s heart, a soft smile would pull at his lips and your own heart would feel as if it was about to burst.

Your mood swings affected you the most, after your morning sickness, and San took those in strides. There were times when you threw anything within arms length at him and then there were others where you sobbed into his arms, and he rocked you in sympathy. You didn’t know how you felt, carrying a child into this world that had been born from trickery. You felt slimy, truth be told, and you didn’t want the baby to carry that into this world.

Until one night, when you were reading in bed, San crawled into your shared bed and scooted over until you had to sit up to let his arm curl around you. “Ash,” He called out your fake name to grab your attention.

You hummed in acknowledgement and closed your book. “What is it, San?”

“I think I should tell you this, before our baby is born,” San said solemnly, hand slipping over your protruding belly.

This was it. San was going to inform you that once the baby was born, things would go back to how they were before. He would despise every breath you breathed and it would grate your nerves to live with a man who hated you. You braced yourself; you had been somewhat preparing for this.

“Although it was not your intention, you bringing me into the Mortal Realm has let me realize that I was not living a life before this. In the Fae Realms, I was considered not of them. They begrudgingly even acknowledged I existed. But here… with your sister and the village… they are happy I'm here. They enjoy my presence. I have never known such a feeling of belonging.” San paused swallowing and you felt nervousness through your bond. “And you. You have had to endure living with me, who cut you any time my mouth opened. You are with child from a man… no, a mongrel, a monster, who despised you. Yet, don't think I haven't seen you retrieving the few paintings Hyunjin had gifted you of the place he had grown up in. You hung up paintings done by the Fae you despised, just so that I could have pieces of my home here. I know how much it means to have a reminder of him.”

You pressed your lips together. San had never mentioned the paintings. You didn't think he even noticed them. “Well--!”

“Let me finish,” San said, cutting you off firmly but gently. “I have every reason to thank you but my stubborn self could not. But you need to know that you are my mate, and I do not regret imprinting on you, because in that moment, you had truly made me feel like I was important and I will love a child that was born from that union.”

Your throat tightened and tears threatened to escape. “That's lovely, San.”

San lifted his hand from your belly and used it to tilt your head to meet his gaze. “I will love the child… just as I love you.”

You could feel it. There was no lying with the bond that existed between you two. San truly loved you. It wasn't the grand romance you had once felt for Hyunjin but that wasn't a bad thing. Your love for Hyunjin burned brightly but went out just as quickly. The love San had for you was fragile but it was hopeful. And if you nurtured it…

“San, I--” Your heart was beating wildly but you found that it was not as bruised as it once was from Hyunjin’s false words. You leaned to San’s cheek and whispered into his ear your true, real name.

San reeled back, surprise and shock all over his face. “You honor me, wife of mine.” By bestowing your name upon him, you acknowledged that you trusted him with something he could use to have complete control over you. It was better than saying I love you.

You smacked his chest at the ‘wife’ comment, however, and San let out a high pitch giggle that you weren't aware he was even capable of. You stared at San like he was a completely different person.

San’s eyes grew hooded and he drew you in close. You protested, sensing the taste of lust from the bond, but he didn’t let you go against your half-hearted struggle.

“The midwife suggested that mounting my wife would aid her in feeling like she wasn't a lump on the log and would ease her moods,” San purred.

“So you're saying you're doing this just because the midwife suggested it?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“No, I wish to make my wife happy,” San said, leaning in, his lips whisper-close.

“I am happy, San,” You said softly.

San grinned. “Then let's make you elated.”

La Fin

#Thrill of the Hunt #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #hwang hyunjin scenarios #choi san smut #stray kids scenarios #ateez smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #topaz's work #ღatz #➸skz

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deandoesthingstome · 2 years ago

Text

Holiday Angel

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 18K; Um. You’re welcome? Get some snacks and water.

@fvckinghenrycavill asked nicely, so I'm releasing this earlier than planned. Also, I think @mayloma might be waiting patiently?

Warnings: age difference (m 40′s, f 20′s; it’s your best friend’s dad for god’s sake), mention of cheating, mention of phone sex, masturbation (f), light!dom (m)/sub (f), praise kink, lingerie, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v sex in various positions, protected sex, light bondage, spanking and ass play; if this doesn’t sound like something you’d be into, I won’t be offended if you scroll on by

A/N: Let's be clear: I've only seen MI:Fallout once. I really only know August from Tumblr. This is an AU, where he is not a traitorous anarchist. I also am not comfortable writing a strict dom, so please take a softer August than you may be used too. Additionally, you are a US college Junior in this story (21-ish). Don't worry, I'm not 21 either. Trust me. It's okay. This is a fantasy.

I've also been extremely self-indulgent here. You're gonna see some names you might recognize. You might wonder what college you go to, where in the US you are, or what year it is. I have taken many liberties. Please absolutely enjoy them. (And if anyone was following along with this post, you may notice a scene change. Trying out my inclusivity options.)

And I have a Spotify playlist I used for various scene inspiration if you're interested.

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker (could anyone really tie him down?), but I do own these words and this story. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header by me. Dividers by the ever wonderful and giving @firefly-graphics.

You dropped the Blue Book for your last final on Professor Marshall's desk and skipped out of the room with glee, suppressing the urge to turn back and grab one more mental image of the grumpy professor for the road.

Christmas break was officially on!

Gemma was waiting in the loading zone outside McKinney Hall, her brand new Audi packed with both your bags and ready for the five hour road trip home.

"Bitch, what took you so long?" she teased, knowing you were actually a little early. You had breezed through the test and ran back to the dorms to meet her. She handed you your favorite iced coffee indulgence, a special treat for making it through the week.

"Let's hit it!" you shouted, turning up the volume on the Spotify playlist Gemma had primed and ready to go.

You swapped driving duties halfway, stopping at a drive-thru to grab french fries to supplement the cut fruit and snacks you packed for the trip.

"God, I am craving salt right now!" Gemma exclaimed.

"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.

"Yesss," Gemma groaned. "And Mikey wants to meet up first thing when he flies in on Sunday. God I hope she gets lost on the way!"

"How's that been going? Long distance and all."

You were glad you and Gemma had decided NOT to room together again after the fiascos of Freshman and Sophomore year. It was only through the saving grace of several grueling classes that kept you library or study group bound for a good portion of the time that you had been able to overcome the petty drama.

It was Gemma's father who had actually suggested she move off campus alone this year and you were pleased to find a lighter class load that allowed you to spend more quality time with your childhood best friend without wanting to rip her face off every five minutes. He was so wise, that Mr. Walker.

But living apart kept you from knowing every single detail of each other's lives, so the drive was a perfect time to catch up on the minutiae.

"It's been weird, honestly. I mean, hooking up last summer was totally unexpected. I can't believe he finally let Chelsea go, but what a fucking night that was!" Gemma squealed as you tamped down your jealousy.

Everyone in high school had the hots for Mike, and you were no exception. But Gemma caught his eye at the last hurrah before heading back to college this past September and, well, girl code. Even if your tastes in men hadn’t already started changing, he was off your list forever now. Especially because he had actually seemed hellbent on making a true go of it with her, promising nightly calls that unfortunately turned weekly as the semester dragged on.

"He's seemed a little distant lately. Distracted. That missed call on Halloween really had me questioning everything he said about giving us a shot. But he's been making it up to me. The phone sex..."

"Stop. Please. I don't want to hear about him slapping one out over the phone," you laughed.

"He sounds so sexy when he comes. Long distance or otherwise."

"Ugh, god. Stop!"

"What? Like you don't love it too! What's up with you and Charlie?"

"Fuck him,” you scoffed. “D'you know, I caught him with Brigette?"

"Your roommate Brigette?"

"Yup. Right before finals started. I need to find a new living situation for next semester, stat!"

"God, why didn't you say something??? Are you okay?"

"I'm surprisingly fine. Things hadn't been so hot lately and honestly, I just don't think he's for me."

"What, missionary all the way?"

You both laughed until the tears were running.

"You should've seen his face when I asked to be on top once. It was like I killed his dog or something."

"Jesus, yeah. You're better off. You need a real man," Gemma declared.

You laughed again, but it came out with a hitch in your throat. A real man was right.

"What was that?" Gemma asked.

"What was what?" you feigned innocence, and held your breath.

"You laughed like you're hiding something. You got a thing going with one of your professors?"

You exhaled as normally as possible. Easy enough to fib your way out of this one with an opening like that.

"God, nothing's going on. But have you seen Professor Marshall? I alternately congratulate and kick myself for choosing a criminal justice major. That man is so fine to look at," you let out a whistle. "It's distracting!"

"So I've heard. Think it's too late to switch majors?"

"Why would I?"

"Not you, silly! Me," Gemma laughed.

"Your father would be so disappointed if you didn't finish your business degree. Who's he gonna leave the company to?" You winked at her, knowing she wanted nothing to do with it. She was only playing along, hoping to find a college boyfriend that would be able to keep her in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.

You didn't think Mikey was it, but hey. Neither your circus nor your monkeys. You chatted for a bit longer before Gemma dropped into a light sleep. Girl could never last in the car as a passenger on long drives. The hum of the road put her out if she wasn’t in charge of driving.

While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker.

When did this infatuation start? You’d met Gemma, and by extension Mr. Walker, in 5th grade after your parents had moved across town and into a new school district. Mrs. Walker had already passed and you don’t know why Gemma’s father never remarried, but you also never saw or heard about him bringing a woman home to meet her.

In high school, when you really started paying attention to boys, you began to notice how good looking Mr. Walker was. But the most you ever hoped for was to meet a boy who would grow up to be as handsome. It wasn’t until lately, when some of your college professors had piqued your interest, that you began to fantasize about him, too. This might be a long week.

You pulled up the scenic drive and parked in front of the Walker residence around 8pm. Gemma blinked her eyes opened and stretched before getting out of the car.

"You sure it's okay I stay here until my parents get back?" you leaned over the gear shift to call out the door. "I can't believe they scheduled a whole house reflooring right before Christmas and then skipped town on me to boot."

"It's totally fine. Dad's probably gonna be busy 24-7 at the office so we'll have the run of the house. And thank God for heated pools!"

You kept your mouth shut, knowing if you showed any interest at all in why Mr. Walker would be so busy this close to the end of the year your face would probably melt off from the heat you felt every time you thought about him lately. Let alone the image of him in swim trunks in the pool. Or not in swim trunks.

Gemma leaned back into the open passenger door and you snapped out of it.

"Coming?"

You turned your whole body to open the driver door, desperate to hide from her the wanton desire you were sure adorned your face. Coming, indeed.

You both grabbed your bags from the back seat and headed up the pristine sidewalk towards the stately mid-century modern mansion Gemma called a "house". The thing could host a Hollywood premiere party and was decorated with such understated glamor you wouldn't be surprised if it would play backdrop to such a party one day. Or maybe a movie set.

The tall, rich wooden door had a thin vertical metal handle stretching from a quarter of the way down the right side, stopping a quarter of the way up from the bottom. A warm glow streamed through the large panels of windows stretching across the front of the house and exposing the elegantly decorated Christmas tree in the front living room surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture.

When Gemma finally tapped in the key code and opened the door, you stepped into the flagstone entryway and smiled at the white lights nestled in the pine garland covering the banisters of the floating stairs leading up to the master bedroom and sitting area loft, then down to the basement holding several guest rooms, the fitness and media rooms, as well as Gemma's room.

Another couple guest room suites could be found on the main entry level along with the custom gourmet kitchen and pantry, dining area, mud and laundry rooms. You knew Mr. Walker's home office was somewhere on this level as well, though you'd never dared venture down the hall to find it. He’d always made it very clear it was off limits.

You were dying to sink into the oversized conversation couch that surrounded the sunken floor of the family room in the back of the house and stare off into the fire or out the back windows onto the deck overlooking the pool but Gemma called for you to follow her downstairs first.

"I have to get out of these clothes and then we'll DoorDash."

"No need, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the deep voice call from upstairs. "I made dinner, it's just warming in the oven. I'll get plates ready for you both, so hurry settling in."

"Dad! I thought you'd still be at the office!" Gemma exclaimed, dropping her bags and heading to the landing to give her father a hug and turning her head away to accept his kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I couldn't let you two eat cold takeout. They can never keep it warm on the drive out here." He turned, letting go of Gemma and opening his arms to you in what should have been a normal welcoming gesture if you hadn’t just been fantasizing about him half the ride home. "Good to see you again."

You suppressed a flustered squeak and pressed your lips together to stifle the drool, thankful Gemma was now behind her father and couldn't see your face as you reached for the hug. But he could. Did. For sure. Fuck.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Walker. That's very kind of you," you managed to reply while trying not to inhale his scent too deep.

"It was nothing," he let go of you and stepped back, slipping his hands slowly into the pockets of his dress slacks.

Were you staring at his muscular forearms, visible below the line of his crisp, white rolled up sleeves? God, you were. Get a fucking grip.

"We'll be right back, Dad. Thanks."

Gemma led you downstairs and sent you off to your regular overnight room down the hall from hers. You were grateful both rooms had their own bathrooms so you didn't have to pass her on your way to splash cold water on your face.

How were you going to survive these next few days before your parents came back with your aunt, uncle, and cousin for Christmas? Gemma wasn't wrong about needing a real man. You'd put up with immature boys all through high school.

Once you started college, a series of gorgeous, educated older men led your lectures over the last few years and your desires had slowly shifted. It really was no problem that Charlie had cheated on you. Perfect opportunity to drop him and move on to something more meaningful. And hopefully someone more experienced.

Has Mr. Walker been in your sights all along? No. No way. But here he was now. It wasn't right to think about him this way, but fuck he looked good tonight, that fluffy curl hanging down and that porn 'stache. What else could you call it? He even had a little of the scruff you'd really enjoyed seeing on Professor Marshall. You wondered how it would feel between your... You heaved a sigh. This can not happen.

You splashed another round of cold water and then dried your face, swapped your jeans for light cotton joggers, and then climbed the stairs to join Gemma and her dad in the dining room.

"There you are," Mr. Walker announced, standing at the head of the table with a bottle in his hand. "We thought you'd gotten lost." He flashed what felt like a knowing smirk as you froze in your tracks.

"Dad, don't be daft. She knows her way around the house." She turned to you from her seat to the right of her father and motioned to your usual guest spot across the table from her, to the left of Mr. Walker.

"Oh, let me have my fun, Gemma. Would you girls like some wine?"

"'Girls', dad? Really?"

"What would you prefer?"

"Ladies?"

Mr. Walker chuckled as he picked up the bottle and poured two glasses of wine.

"Right then. There you go, ladies."

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at you as he split his arms and passed the glasses over by the stems. You did your best to grab the bowl, but his fingers shifted up slightly as he released your glass. You heated again as they brushed the back of your hand and you took a sip immediately, trying to cover the pleasure that had to be apparent on your face.

You set the glass down and picked up your knife and fork, preparing to dig into the plate of luscious looking food in front of you. You took a bite and tried to suppress it, but a groan slipped out of your mouth as your eyes rolled closed. You closed your lips and chewed the fork-tender meat, marveling at it melting away in your mouth. When you finished swallowing, you opened your eyes to find Gemma staring at you, mouth agape.

You turned your head to find Mr. Walker's piercing blue eyes trained on yours as he leaned casually against the arm of the oversized dining chair.

"Enjoying it?"

You blinked and remembered where you were, who you were with.

"Mr. Walker, these short ribs are divine!" you declared.

"Jesus. You act like you never ate a home-cooked meal before," Gemma snapped.

"Sorry, I just," you shook your head to clear the fog. "I mean you’ve always been a great cook, I've just never tasted anything like this."

"It's good, right?" Mr. Walker asked. “I’ve been expanding my repertoire lately.”

"It really is. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed! Gemma, I'm sorry. That was..."

You stared at her across the table with a silent plea, your eyes begging her to say something, anything. You were about to give up completely when Gemma burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face.

"You absolute freak!" she laughed and you let out a breath and laughed with her.

You kept your shit together during the rest of the dinner for the most part. But Mr. Walker poured another few glasses of wine and you could feel yourself getting tipsy.

"I think I need to head to bed, but do you need any help in the kitchen, Mr. Walker?" you asked.

"No, but thank you for the offer. Be careful down those stairs." Did he wink at you?

"See you in the morning!" Gemma called, with a lightness that told you she had well and truly forgiven the awkwardness of just an hour or so ago.

You peeled off your thin sweater and discarded your bra, leaving just a lacy camisole and your joggers. You pulled back the thick pile of covers on the bed and were about to climb in, when a wave of thirst overtook you.

You opened the bedroom door and stepped softly into the hall. The Walkers always kept a mini-fridge stocked in the media room down here. You froze as you entered the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Walker! I was just..."

"I thought you might want a bottle of water for your nightstand."

You exhaled a small laugh as you both spoke at the same time, but then froze again as you watched the way he held the bottle. Low, at his hips. One hand on the base, the other fiddling with the cap.

" Wh..where's Gemma?" you practically whispered, unable to get your voice to cooperate suddenly.

"She's finishing up the dishes. I’m sure she'll be right down," he replied with a firm, confident tone. "Did you want this?"

He gave a slight nod in the direction of his hands, where you saw he was now tipping the bottle back and forth, before finally offering it to you with an outstretched arm and hand gripped firm around the plastic form.

"Here. Take it."

You nodded and reached for the bottle, once again trying to avoid his touch. Once again finding your fingers brushing against his.

“There you go.”

Your stomach dropped along with his voice as you realized what a terrible idea staying here was. There was no way you were going to be able to hide your desire from Gemma if her father was going to keep acting like this. Time stood still while you tried to move something, anything. Your eyes away from his. Your mouth to say thank you. Your feet to head back to your room.

"Let's get you back to bed," he stepped forward, turning you with a hand on your shoulder, then sliding that hand down your side to your waist and guiding you down the hall.

He stopped at the door frame, pressing you gently into the room. You almost moaned at the loss of his touch as you stepped out of his reach and sat on the edge of the bed, finally finding your voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Walker."

"Sweet dreams." He absolutely winked at you. Fuck.

He pulled the door shut, leaving you all alone with the crazy feelings stirring inside you. This is your best friend's father. You reclined back in the bed. Snap out of it. Girl code isn't just about boyfriends. Pulled the covers over you. Besides, he's like, twice your age, at least. Stared at the dark ceiling, while your fingers shifted under the covers and down your belly. But the way he looked at you tonight. Slipped a hand past the waistband of your pants. He wasn't just being polite. Tentatively touched the heat between your legs.

He was flirting, there was no denying it. Maybe you could have written off the hand brush at dinner, but he was showing off with the bottle of water. He wanted you to look.

You swirled a finger gently through your folds, gathering the slick and spreading it around. You thought about his mischievous grin, his tailored pants, and his strong hands before plunging two fingers deep inside, pulling them back out slowly to circle your clit.

"More," you whispered to yourself, then obliged with fingers deep again, arching your back for better positioning.

"Right there," you moaned quietly, letting the fantasy circle around your head. You pumped in and out, curling deep to find your sweet, spongy spot while you toyed with the idea of letting him touch you.

"Please," you begged, pressing a thumb against your clit, twitching with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer.

You pulled your slick fingers from your clenching walls and focused all your attention on your clit, rubbing tenderly while you imagined his mouth on you.

"God, Mr. Walker!" you gasped, finally reaching your peak. "August," you whispered, rolling to your side and clasping the blanket close around you while you worked to slow your heart rate before drifting off to sleep.

You woke late on Saturday. It was 10 am when you looked at the clock. The floor to ceiling blackout curtains had really done their job.

You skipped the shower, even though you craved one after the long drive and your private activity the night before. Instead, you just washed your face and wrapped a thin robe around yourself before heading up to find breakfast. Gemma was sitting at the kitchen counter typing away on her phone, empty cereal bowl in front of her.

“Oh, good. You’re up! And you didn’t shower already, perfect. Grab a bite and then let’s hang in the hot tub this morning. I have a kink in my neck from that car ride I need to work out!”

You poured yourself a bowl of cereal and mug of steaming coffee and took a seat in a low back leather barstool next to Gemma. She let you eat in silence while she finished her text conversation.

“Ugh,” she exclaimed, slamming the phone on the counter. “I can’t believe Mike got put on shift at the end of finals week.”

“That why he couldn’t get home already?”

“Yeah, says it’s like a right of passage for all new bartenders at the club. Business is light, but they schedule you with a threat that you’ll lose shifts the following semester if you don’t stay to serve the stragglers and the few locals who pop in the bar once the college crowd clears out for break.”

“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. You done?” She watched for your nod. “Well get changed and let’s hit the tub.”

You headed back downstairs to your room and fished your bikini out of your luggage. After changing, you threw the curtains aside and pulled open the sliding door leading to the heated pool deck. Gemma must have had her suit on under her robe because she was already soaking by the time you stepped outside.

You slipped into the bubbling water, immediately grateful for the suggestion. The warmth began to work on your own tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding and you let out a little moan.

“I hear you on that,” Gemma stated. “I hate long car rides! They fuck with my spinal alignment.”

“Yeah, this water feels so good.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head back against the side of the tub, sinking as deep as you could without dipping your face in the water. You snapped up when you heard the splash and blinked your eyes open to see a figure skimming under the water from the far deep end of the pool to the shallow end closer to where you sat in the hot tub.

When Mr. Walker popped his head above water and hung on the side of the pool to say good morning, you were ever so grateful for the steam hiding any lust in your eyes.

“Hey dad.” Gemma turned from her spot to face him.

“Are you ladies getting in the pool this morning?” he smirked.

“No, I think we’re just gonna soak and then go veg in front of the TV for a bit,” she replied, hanging off the side of the hot tub.

“Alright, well, I’m headed out to check on a few sites this afternoon. Should I plan on you for dinner or have you made other arrangements?” Mr. Walker asked.

“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”

Gemma turned back to you as you watched Mr. Walker duck back into the water and begin a series of laps. You fluttered your eyes closed so she couldn’t see how blown your pupils were, watching him first speak with Gemma and then propel his body through the water. God, he was practically naked over there. You were practically naked over here. You leaned your head back again to pray for relief.

When you both felt loose and relaxed enough, you climbed out of the hot tub, grabbing an oversized towel from the lidded basket next to the pool to dry off. You were just bending over to reach your lower legs and feet when you heard the splash of footsteps on the pool stairs.

“Right then, that’s me done. And don’t you two load up on snacks while I’m gone. You’ll spoil your appetite.”

You held your breath as he leaned next to you to grab a towel, another mysterious smirk on his face as he rose to face you. You stood and pulled your towel up your body, pretending to wipe non-existent water from your face just to avoid any further eye contact. His body was amazing and his wet swim trunks were clinging to his thighs. If Gemma caught you staring, you were done for.

When it felt safe, you lowered the towel from your face and watched him pad up the staircase leading to the main level before entering the house. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, but luckily Gemma was already heading inside herself.

You showered finally, then donned some comfy loungewear and joined Gemma in the media room where she’d already cued up Netflix.

“Ready to binge The Witcher?” she asked. “They just released the new season last night.”

“Ugh, that man could raw-dog me all day and night!”

“Where is the lie???!!!???” she laughed with you.

You grabbed some water from the mini-fridge, doing your best to ignore the scene from last night that popped into your head as you settled into an oversized, reclining theater seat. Gemma paused the autoplay on the third episode and asked if you wanted some lunch. You were hungry, alright. But yeah, a sandwich sounded good.

There were still at least 3 more episodes of the season left, when Mr. Walker called down around 6.

“I’m starting dinner now. It’ll be ready shortly.”

“We’ll help,” Gemma called and flipped off the tv. You both headed upstairs to the kitchen. Gemma began to set the dining table, so you sat at the kitchen counter and asked what you could do.

“You could prep that basil for me,” Mr. Walker replied. “Here, like this.”

You watched rapt, as he proceeded to show you how he wanted you to tear the leaves gently into small pieces. When he was sure you had it right, he drizzled some olive oil in a large shallow saute pan and waited for it to warm before tossing in two packages of gnocchi.

He stirred them around for a few minutes and when he was satisfied by their state, he ladeled them out into a serving bowl. He scooped out a few and offered them over the counter to you and Gemma. You each plucked a warm, crispy potato pillow from the spoon and you sighed when you popped it in your mouth, happy that Gemma was making the same noise and you wouldn’t be called out this time. Something about food with Mr. Walker was becoming increasingly sensual to you.

He added some more olive oil and then butter to the pan, waiting for it to melt before pouring in the heirloom cherry tomatoes he’d asked you to dry off from the colander in the deep sink. He sprinkled in some salt and gave them a quick stir, then turned to the open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

He poured three glasses set on the counter and pushed two towards you and Gemma with his fingers pressed on the base of the stems. Then he raised his own glass.

“I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart,” he tipped his glass to Gemma, and then toward you. “Both of you, of course.”

You took a small sip, watching over the rim as he did the same and you held your breath while your eyes trailed along his throat as he swallowed, hoping Gemma didn’t notice you staring.

The three of you chatted amicably, while Mr. Walker stirred the tomatoes in the pan until they began to burst, at which point he dumped the crispy gnocchi back into the pan. You watched in awe as he lifted the heavy pan with one hand and gave it a good toss, shifting it back and forth with subtle little wrist flicks that nestled the gnocchi into the simple sauce. Then he stirred in some fresh mozzarella pearls and some of the hand-torn basil, giving you a wink of thanks, before popping the whole thing under the broiler.

He asked Gemma to carry the salad and offered you the last pour of wine before sending you off to the dining room with a fresh bottle. Seated at your usual spot, you piled a moderate amount of the bubbly dish onto your plate, inhaling the heavenly scent of basil and tomato. Mr. Walker raised an eyebrow as he held a small bowl of shaved parmesan in your direction. When you nodded, he held the dish for you while you sprinkled the cheese over your plate, eyes watching you the whole time. The fact that he simply turned and handed the bowl to Gemma to let her hold it while she sprinkled her own cheese was not lost on you.

The white wine wasn’t affecting you the way the red had the night before, so once dinner was over, you and Gemma helped clean up and then headed downstairs to finish out the season before going to bed.

You woke yourself up in the middle of the night with your hand down your pants again, teasing your slit while you recalled the dream.

A rugged man with long silvery hair helped you down off his horse and led you to a blanket in a clearing near a steamy pool of water. From a small bowl, he plucked a tiny ripe tomato with his fingers and gently pressed it into your waiting mouth. You sighed as the tomato burst when you bit into it and shivered when he bent over to lick the juice running down your chin with the tip of his tongue before pressing you to your back and holding you down with a heavy kiss. You whispered his name into the night once again as you came.

“August.”

In the morning, you peeled the covers back and stretched your way out of bed. The pleasure of the mid-slumber release you gave yourself last night still tingled in your mind. You showered and dressed, then climbed the stairs again searching for Gemma and hopefully breakfast, missing that her door was still closed. You stopped short seeing Mr. Walker alone in the kitchen.

“Good morning. Did you sleep alright?” He spoke with a suspicious tone. It was like he knew. How could he know?

You swallowed and tried to find your voice. “I did. Thank you.”

“Coffee?” He held the french press up and grabbed a mug when you nodded. “I have a frittata here, too, if you’d like some.”

“Yes, please. Smells amazing,” you inhaled and closed your eyes slowly, remembering the meals from the last few nights as well. “You’re a really good cook, Mr. Walker.”

“I certainly try,” he winked at you. “So what do you two have going on today?”

“I don’t know. Mike gets in this afternoon and I think Gemma wants to meet up with him.”

“Will you be joining them?”

You blinked and swallowed. How do you tell a father that his daughter is probably going to be getting railed six ways to Sunday tonight, so no, you wouldn’t be joining them?

“Uh…”

“Morning!” Gemma’s cheery greeting broke the tension and you were thankful you didn’t have to tell Mr. Walker that the reunion tonight was for Gemma alone. She gave her father a peck on the cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Gemma, sweetheart, are you meeting Mike tonight?” Mr. Walker asked.

“I am!” she grinned.

“Alone?”

“Yeaahhhh…” she answered, just short of shy. “Sorry dad, I probably should have said something earlier. But you can handle a night without me, right?”

Mr. Walker stared at her for a moment and suddenly all the tension was back in the room. He had to know what was going to go on tonight. How could he not?

“I’m sure I can figure something out. But please, be safe.”

You pursed your lips and widened your eyes as you turned away from them. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Did he have no illusions about the extracurricular activities of his one and only daughter? Sure, she was of age and he had to know what she got up to away from home, but still. If you had to tell your parents you were going to be skipping a night home with them to get it on with your boyfriend, you’d probably melt into the furniture.

“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully.

“Alright, well, I’m off. I have some work to finish up here and then a few more site visits to make today.”

“On a Sunday, dad, really?”

“We’re very close to closing this deal and it has to be done before the end of the year. I want to be sure the due diligence is correct so I don’t get stuck with a billion dollar dud when everything is said and done.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“About the things I care about, why wouldn’t I be? You two have fun today. Gemma, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not before you get home, unless you’re not going into the office tomorrow?”

“To be determined.” He gave you both a short goodbye wave and headed out.

“Awk - ward…” you sing-songed, once you were sure he was out of range.

“Ugh, I know. He’s not stupid. I mean, he knows I’m active, but it’s still a little weird being so forthcoming with him about it.”

“Has he ever had anyone…” you asked before you could filter the thought.

“I mean, you’re here all the time when I’m home. Have you ever seen him bring a woman around? I know he’s dated over the years, but no one’s ever good enough for him. They never last so he never wants to introduce us. It’s a little sad, really.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to have a swim and sit in the hot tub for a bit again this morning? Mikey’s flight gets in at 3, so I was hoping you and I could head into town for lunch and maybe some shopping and then you could drop me at his place and drive my car back here. Unless you want to meet up with anyone, of course.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m honestly just looking forward to another veg fest tonight.”

You changed into your bathing suit and slipped a robe over top, then met Gemma on the heated pool deck.

“I can’t get over how warm it is right now! Clearly no hope for a white Christmas.”

“I know! Air’s still a bit chilly, but yeah, sucks. I’d love snow for the holidays,” you replied, dropping your towel on a lounge chair and untying your robe. You slid the fabric off your shoulders, and stepped down the stairs into the warm, salt water pool. You let your body acclimate a bit before dipping your head completely under and pushing off the bottom to glide to the far side in one breath. When you surfaced, you grabbed a hold of the side of the pool and realized Mr. Walker was standing at his office windows, staring down at you.

He held your gaze for what felt like a moment too long, then turned away, presumably toward his desk, but impossible for you to see his face. Which, to be honest, was fine because for a minute it felt like he was going to burst through the windows and eat you up.

The splash as Gemma broke the surface next to you snapped you out of your reverie and she tugged you back from the side, urging you into an easy lap race. You swam back and forth the length of the pool about twenty times before stopping back at the shallow end.

“That all you got?” Gemma called, crawling away toward the deep end again.

You stared after her, but let your gaze raise to the windows. His window. You could see nothing inside from this far away, the light tint blocking everything. But you knew he was there. Was he still sitting at his desk, typing a memo? On the phone, arranging an international meeting? Or was he back at the window, watching you with his hands in his pockets, struggling not to touch himself? Or fuck, maybe he was touching himself. You sank under the water before Gemma could reach you again.

“Hot tub?” she asked, when you bobbed to the surface.

“Hot tub,” you agreed.

You lounged in the even warmer, bubbling water for another 15 minutes or so, sending the last of your finals week jitters packing. This semester was over. Your relationship was over. There was nothing more you could do about your performance for either scenario. So you closed your eyes and let it all go with a sigh.

“There you are.”

“What?” you opened your eyes as Gemma spoke.

“You’ve been on edge. I know you said you didn’t care about Charlie, but something’s been bothering you. You just look so much more relaxed now. You good? Still okay about the plans for tonight? I don’t mean to leave you all alone, but…”

“I’m gonna be so good, Gem. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go. I want to see if that pop-up shop is still around. They have the cutest jewelry.”

“Yes!”

You found the store you were looking for and bought a few new pairs of earrings. A long, thin drop chain pair and some geometric hoops, asking the clerk if you could wear the gold bar threaders out of the store. You also found a necklace for your mom and some jade bracelets for your aunt. Christmas shopping halfway done.

Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next.

“I wanna get something sexy for tonight.” She tried on a few outfits and picked out a few for you to try on too.

“This is silly. I don’t have anyone to wear this stuff for anymore.”

“Oh, just wear it for yourself. Don’t you just feel luxurious in silk?”

You agreed and bought the dark blue, high cut silk romper with black lace trim and white flower print. It was maybe the sexiest thing you ever owned. And you were single. Awesome.

You and Gemma walked arm in arm to your favorite lunch spot, grabbing a table on the heated patio. You giggled conspiratorially together about how her evening with Mike would go, making sure you cut her off before she got too graphic. You did not want the details. Those were private, no matter how much Gemma liked to brag.

You hit a few more shops after lunch, nabbing a new sweater for your dad, a book from your uncle’s favorite author, and some art supplies for your cousin. You just had stocking stuffers left, so you hit up the candy shop after dropping Gemma at Mike’s.

You pulled Gemma’s car into the garage and let yourself into the basement to drop your bags down in your room, figuring you would just stay hidden and out of Mr. Walker’s way for the evening. But your stomach rumbled and you realized lunch had been hours ago.

Before you could make it upstairs, you were distracted by the sounds of grunting and staccato smacks. You peered into the gym to find Mr. Walker throwing jabs and punches against a heavy bag. His back was to you and your mouth watered as you watched his shoulders and traps tense and ripple with each hit. From the amount of sweat dripping down his back and soaked into his tank and shorts, he’d clearly been at it for a while. He was shifting his feet back and forth in a little sparring dance and you were about to get caught out as he rotated around the bag. But you simply couldn’t move.

Mr. Walker had just pumped his arms preparing for the next hit as he rounded his target. He grabbed the bag to still it when he noticed you staring.

“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.

You cleared your throat and suppressed the urge to turn and run.

“Everything’s, uh …just fine,” you smiled at him. “I was just on my way to grab a bite and heard the ruckus in here.”

“Sorry to sidetrack you.” He trained an intense stare on you, head tilting to the side. “But I was just about done anyway. If you don’t mind waiting, I can whip up something after I grab a shower?”

“That would be amazing, thank you Mr. Walker. Anything I can do to help get ready?”

He strode toward you now, grabbing a towel from the bench to wipe the sweat from his face. You watched rapt as a damp curl bounced back into place on his brow.

“If you want to open a bottle of wine, feel free, but no need to do any heavy lifting in the kitchen. I’ve got it covered,” he winked at you with a devilish grin. Suddenly his hand was at your neck, fingers gently caressing the chain hanging from your ear. “Are these new?”

You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.

“They’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” you practically whispered, trying not to sink to the floor before him.

You excused yourself and made your way back upstairs, wanting to simply escape his commanding presence and seek out a snack to tide you over.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” he called to you in the kitchen, his footsteps heavy on his way upstairs as well.

You sat with the banana you’d plucked from the fruit bowl and pondered the scene.

Would he strip down in the bedroom or the bathroom? Would he stand under the rushing water for a bit and let the warm water loosen his muscles, hand against the wall, head hanging down? Did he touch himself? He had to touch himself, but did he use a bar or gel? Loofah? Washcloth? Or was he just running his hands all over his body now? How did he dry off? Towel over his head to shuffle those curls? Or bend over and get the legs, drying up the body first? Maybe he started with a swipe across his chest? Did he wrap that towel around his waist or just bare-ass it into the closet for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt? Barefoot? Slippers?

“Are you going to eat that?”

You jumped and dropped the banana that you hadn’t even taken one bite of to the counter.

“Oh, Mr. Walker, you startled me,” you gasped.

“You did seem rather in deep thought there. Anything I can help with?”

Why you expected him to be in a ratty pair of sweats and a t-shirt you’d never know. Mr. Walker had donned an elegant pair of loose linen pants and simple cashmere turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide the muscles he’d been training just half an hour ago. He looked delicious.

“Here,” he reached for the as yet unpeeled banana, “let’s just put this away and get you something more substantial, okay?”

You made some light small talk about your recent semester and watched as he breezed around the kitchen, pulling out packages from the fridge and heating pans on the stove. In a mere matter of minutes he had turned a burner on to boil water and chopped asparagus, tomatoes, broccoli, and yellow peppers. When the water bubbled just right he tossed in a bag of fresh cavatelli. He asked about the rest of your Christmas plans while he sauted the vegetables in a fragrant lemon sauce. After draining the pasta, he tossed it in the pan along with a bit of pasta water, stirring to thicken up the sauce before adding some lemon zest and grated parm. Boyfriends? He asked as he ladled heaping portions into two wide flat bowls and set one down in front of you at the island.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” you said as you picked up your fork. “No, not anymore.”

“Please,” he rested his fists on the counter across from you.”I want you to call me August.’

“Okay. August,” you replied, as a jolt of pleasure raced through you straight to your cunt.

“Good girl.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping it was masked as the enjoyment of the bite you took. August Walker wanted you as much as you wanted him. There was absolutely no doubt. When you opened your eyes, his icy blue stare greeted you while his mouth pulled into a sly smirk.

He lounged against the counter across from you, dish in hand, lifting bites of pasta to his mouth and chewing while he listened to you try to explain why it simply wasn’t working out with the men at college. It seemed to you that his breath got deeper with each failed relationship.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, licking an errant drop of sauce off the corner of your mouth. “It just feels like they aren’t really into it.”

“Into what?”

“Well, me. I guess. Into what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Something more…” you took a deep breath to stifle the jitters. You were about to proposition your best friend’s dad. “Passionate.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, brow raised in surprise as if he did not expect that to be your answer. He set his plate down, abandoning the last bite, and slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants. And watched you watch. Yeah. He knew. Saw it the minute you walked in the house two days ago.

You dropped your fork to your plate and slid your chair back, standing to move around the island.

“Can I help with the dishes?”

“Are dishes what you really want to be doing right now?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest. “August.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them against your cheeks, fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck, but with no pressure at all.

“So, listen. I want you to be really sure about this,” his eyes darted back and forth as he searched yours for any hint of doubt, even as you nodded. When he found none, he bent to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a simple touch, then a swipe of the tongue to ease you open and slip in. The mustache tickled your nose and the scruff felt exactly how you imagined, how you wanted it. You let your mouth fall open and welcomed the gentle probing of his tongue.You whimpered when he pulled away.

He considered you then, for what felt like an eternity before he placed a thumb on your lips and tugged down to your chin then slid his digit into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to gather whatever moisture was available. You closed your lips around his thumb and rolled your eyes back up to him, sucking slowly on his thumb and daring him to pull it out.

He huffed and sneered and pulled his thumb from your lips and tilted your mouth back up to meet his lips crashing down on yours again. When he released your mouth, he licked his lips and then turned you so he could guide you out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs to his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of the bed and you stared up into his ocean-deep eyes.

“My god you are an angel, aren’t you?”

You shivered and gasped, then released your breath slowly. He smirked again.

“You like that? When I call you an angel?”

“I really do,” you whispered.

“Good. Then whenever you’re with me, alone, you are my Angel. Is that okay with you?”

“It is.”

He smiled at you then and pulled his sweater over his head leaving him bare chested in front of you. You raised a hand as if to drift your fingers through the bed of fur covering his chest and tapering down to his stomach. But he stopped you. Grabbed your wrist with one hand and tilted your chin to him with the other, holding your gaze steady and peering deep into your soul to confirm his observation. It was written all over your face. You wanted him to tell you. You wanted him to give you permission. You wanted to hear him say yes. So you asked.

“Can I touch you August?”

“Yes, Angel. You can.” He released your hand and face and you proceeded to touch him. You slid your palm up his stomach to his chest, your fingers snaking through his hair. He heaved a sigh, then placed his hand on your wrist again and pulled you up to standing. You peered into his eyes, bit your lower lip and slid your palm back down, turning your hand so your fingertips hit his waistband first, sneaking under the fabric.

“You sure you’re ready for that right now?” he asked, placing his hand on your wrist for the third time this evening. “I think you might want to rethink that.” He put your hand over the bulge in his pants so you could feel not only how hard he was already but how large. He was silently asking you if you’d ever had a lover whose cock was as big as his and you paused for only a beat.

You knew exactly how you wanted to start. “I’m a thousand percent sure,” you grinned salaciously up at him.

His nod was practically imperceptible, so determined not to let you see how your eagerness was affecting him. How would it look if he were losing all control?

You licked your lips and brought both hands to the drawstring tie, loosening it slowly, then dragging the fabric carefully over his engorged cock. You sat back on the bed as you pushed his pants down his legs, never once letting your eyes leave his.

Not until you were ready to take him in hand did you drop your eyes to drink him in. It was the most glorious sight you could imagine. Long, thick, hard. Jumping slightly as you touched the underside with your fingertips, then settling the weight into the palm of your hands. He had not been wrong at all. No other man you’d been with could compare to his size. And you had absolutely no doubt he knew exactly how to wield it.

You were hypnotized. Even if you’d wanted to look back into his eyes to ask permission before you took him into your mouth, you simply could not tear your gaze away. Your hunger evolved into something more now, and you leaned forward, tucking your tongue under the head while your lips wrapped around him.

You knew there was no way you’d be able to take his full length inside your mouth, but you wanted to try. Wanted to show him you were willing. You gathered your spit and let it glide your mouth over his cock, past the bulbous head and as far down the veiny shaft as you could manage. With a hand firmly gripped around the base, you held him in place while you moved your mouth up and down, letting your tongue drag and circle. You could do this for hours. He might have let you. But the minute you let his tip hit the back of your throat, causing a small gag reflex and a few tears to well in your eyes, he pulled you off.

“Not yet. I’ll have you undone, but not yet.”

You blinked the tears of pleasure quickly away, confused. Charlie had always loved to come in your mouth, knowing an early release would allow him to last longer with you.

“Was it not alright?” you questioned, unsure now if all those boys had been lying when they said you were the best.

“Oh, Angel. It was divine. Do you see how fucking hard I am for you? And you’ll do that again for me. I’ll insist on it. But I want to drink you in myself, first.”

He asked you to undress. You were suddenly reminded of your spur of the moment purchase and would give anything to put yourself on display in it for him. He sensed your cautious excitement, but mistook it for hesitation.

“What is it, Angel? Are you having doubts?” he asked in a gentler tone than he’d been using since you arrived in the bedroom.

“No, August. Nothing like that. I just, well…”

He furrowed his brows at you and urged you to finish your confession.

“I mean, I want this, but I really wasn’t prepared for it to happen. And it’s embarrassing to say, but I have something I’d love to put on for you. Can I do that?”

His relief shifted to a wolfish grin, as he nodded and shifted out of your way. “Please don’t take too long.” He took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke. “I don’t want to take care of this myself.”

You nodded eagerly and rose to stand before him. It took every ounce of restraint not to sprint from the room in an effort to return to him as quickly as possible, but that didn’t feel dignified. You weren’t going to start acting like a schoolgirl in front of August Walker.

Your legs carried you purposefully through the house to your room where you undressed, put your hair up, and quickly showered. After drying off, you fished the romper out of the shopping bags on your bed, tore off the tag carefully, and stepped into the silky piece. Gemma was right, it felt so very luxurious.

A shock of cold rushed through you. How would you ever face Gemma after tonight? It wasn’t as if you’d been scheming for this to happen. But you weren’t saying no, either. You wanted this so badly. Another deep breath. You’d just have to deal with the consequences later. There was no way you were stopping now.

You searched through your luggage for your long, white crochet cardigan with the front tie. You decided to brush your teeth quickly and took a few extra minutes to dab some of your favorite perfume along your neck and wrists. A makeup touch up seemed useless at this point, but you did fix your hair.

You took a final look at yourself in the mirror and blew out the breath you found yourself holding. This was happening.

You climbed the stairs with purpose, noting the low seductive music drifting from the top floor. You smiled at the thought that August liked to use sound to get into the mood as well. You stopped at the door to his bedroom, just as he was coming out of his own en suite, clothed now in a pair of dark blue silk pajama pants that did little to hide his ongoing erection.

“Oh Angel. I thought you’d gotten lost again,” he teased. “Come. Let me look at you.”

He reached out his hands as he moved across the room toward you. He grasped one of your hands and raised it over your head, twirling you around once slowly then dropping your arm as you came back around to face him and tracing his hand down your throat and chest, toying with the bow at the front of your sweater.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

You nodded, wide-eyed, hoping he really loved it as much as he seemed to.

“Well, don’t you look good for me?. It’s a pity this won’t stay on long.” He pulled on the strings and slipped a hand inside the sweater, grazing your side as he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you close for a withering kiss. He palmed a breast with the other hand, rubbing against the hard nub straining through the soft fabric. He pressed the small of your back and moved you inches closer to him, his stiff cock jutting against you.

As he released the kiss, he pushed the sweater off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor behind you, once again taking up your hand and pulling you with him as he moved back to the bed. This time, he sat, legs spread wide so you could step between them.

“This really is very pretty,” he toyed with the thin straps of the romper, sliding a finger under the lace and brushing his knuckle against the top of your breast. “Would you like to keep it on a little longer?”

“I would.”

“Very well then.”

He pulled the straps down your shoulders a few inches tempting you with a state of full undress, then replaced them and moved his hands to your hips, smoothing them around to cup your ass and squeeze. He kept one hand on your lower back, pulling the other back around to the front before pushing a hip just off-kilter. You were now on a slight diagonal to him and that allowed him to more easily slide his hand off your hip and down into the crease of your thigh before he slipped a finger under the silk to trace along your folds.

You watched his eyes darken as he discovered the moisture already accumulated, waiting for him. You bit your lip as he turned his gaze to your eyes.

“You are already so wet, Angel. You’re hungry for this aren’t you?”

“Yes, August. I want you.”

He kept his eyes glued to yours as he dipped two fingers inside your core and you gasped.

“And I want you to fuck yourself on my hand. Will you do that for me Angel?”

Your whole body was buzzing now. No one had ever prioritized your pleasure like this. If you’d had your mouth on a boyfriend’s cock, that’s where it was staying until he came in your mouth or pulled out and slipped inside your pussy. But giving you control of your own orgasm? Exhilarating.

His fingers were curled inside you, stroking and stretching you, smoothing along your walls and seeking out the most delicate spaces as you began to shift your hips against his hand. The heat spread through your body, you relaxed and sank your weight into his hand, your cunt swallowing his fingers deeper. You swept a hand under the curve of your tit, squeezing gently at the hardened nipple while you grabbed a hold of his wrist with your other hand. Using the leverage of his grip, you rocked back and forth into his palm, tossing your head back when he graced you with another curl of his fingers. He had found your spot and was going to exploit that fact, teasing you with a gentle press before spreading his fingers wide inside you.

“Please, August,” you begged.

“Please what Angel?” he smirked. “This is all you.”

You hauled your head back to stare down at him while you undulated your hips, searching for a way to position his fingers where you needed them again.

“Would you put another finger in? Please August?”

He smiled and obliged and you shivered with pleasure, finally beginning to feel the fullness and pressure you needed to reach your peak. If you could just…You snaked your hand around his wrist, moving so you could drag your thumb down beside his and urge it up to the top of your clit. You pressed his thumb into you, guiding his motion and pulling away only when you were sure he would continue on his own.

With his thumb brushing over your pearl, you rocked harder on his fingers, shifting his hand so he had no choice but to curl up into your spot and you held his hand firm in position when he did, praying to all the gods you knew that he would remain right there for just this moment longer.

He stood as soon as you came apart, catching you with an arm around your back as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pulsing pussy.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” He kissed at the heat radiating from your cheeks, then sought your mouth and traced your lips with his tongue, opening you up to him and licking in deep. You moaned as you imagined him doing that again, lower.

“Yes, I know. You’ll get that too,” he declared, pulling away from the kiss. “What do you say, Angel? How do you feel about taking this off now that I’ve seen you so pretty in it?”

You smoothed your hands down your body, enjoying the sensual feel of the silk, still reeling from your orgasm. You nodded as he slipped the straps from your shoulders once more, this time pushing the elastic waistband over your hips and dropping the material to the floor.

August grabbed your ass then slid his hands to your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he turned to face the bed. His kiss was deep and hard as he climbed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, before easing you on your back. With your legs pinned around his waist, he ran his hands along your calves and up to the crease at the top of your thighs where he hooked his thumbs and pressed his fingertips into the flesh of your hips.

You were fully on display for him now. Nothing to stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your body, kindling the flames still licking at your skin. He eased his thumbs toward your apex, caressing your folds and massaging your slick along the edges. He let one thumb circle around your clit, pressing hard when you arched into it. He dipped the same thumb into your core, then withdrew and placed it in his mouth, licking you off his thumb like ice cream and you melted at the site of it.

You felt adored and basked in his worship, tossing your arms over your head and arching your back to press your chest out towards him. He slid his hands up your waist and over your belly to cup and knead your breasts. When he pinched, the pressure was just the other side of comfortable and you hissed with the pain. He eased up, rubbing gently for a moment before squeezing again, with the same intensity. The salacious leer on his side-cocked head sent a wave of pleasure along with the pain and you furrowed your brow and whimpered with content. Satisfied, he let you go and leaned down to kiss you again.

He unhooked your legs and directed you to the top of the bed. You eased back against the tall, plush gray velvet headboard, positioning yourself right in the middle of the California king bed.

“I’m going to eat that delicious pussy of yours now, Angel. And I don’t want you to touch me while I do. I want to try something I think you will enjoy. Will you let me?”

You furrowed your brow and nodded reluctantly, unsure what it would mean.

August climbed up to the head of the bed, knees straddling your waist as he reached behind the headboard. Your heart beat noticeably faster when you saw the thick strands of silk cord he pulled over the top. Holding them both in one hand by the plush lined leather cuffs at the ends of each, he peered down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head slowly once, chin lowered with a shyness you hadn’t yet felt this evening. August grasped your jaw to tilt you towards him.

“Never be embarrassed, sweet thing. This isn’t for everyone. Believe me, I know.” He dropped one line and your chin at the same time, holding the second cuff in front of you and caressing the line. “You have options here. Let me explain. If you want, you could simply hold onto the rope. It’s soft and won’t burn or cut your hands when you squeeze tight. But the risk here is how easy it would be for you to drop it when you are unable to control yourself.”

You blinked with anticipation for the next option, then closed your eyes when he gave you a few more.

“You could always wrap the rope around your wrists or use the cuffs with a loose buckle as well, but still…” He unbuckled the cuff. “I think your best option, the one that will ensure you are able to enjoy every minute of my mouth on you, would be for you to let me tighten these around your wrists.”

He held the cuff wide for you and waited as you opened your eyes to give him an answer. With a wave of confidence surging through your body, you lifted your arm for him.

“Good girl.” He pulled the strap through the buckle and found the right fit with ease. Firm, not too tight, but certainly not loose at all. He tugged your arm down to demonstrate how little reach you had now and raised an eyebrow again with a last chance to beg off. You met his question with an unwavering gaze and he closed and opened his eyelids slowly with a smile before attaching a cuff to your other wrist.

You tested this one yourself with a tug and another thick swallow to calm your nerves and remind yourself you wanted this. So badly.

You could leave your arms winged back toward the headboard or bring your hands in front of your face, with elbows bent close by your side, but you’d never be able to touch him while he was tucked between your legs. As he began to retreat, you reached reflexively for him, even though you were unable to catch him as the rope went taut.

As if reading your mind, he bent then and allowed you to place your hands on either side of his face while he kissed first your brow, then your cheeks below each eye, the corners of your lips. He finally slotted his mouth against yours and you leaned into it and kissed back hard.

You let out a soft whine when he finally pulled away, but he pressed a finger to your lips to quiet you, then held it there as he eased down your inflamed body, rotating soft kisses and sharp nips.

No high school boyfriend had ever gone down on you. And Charlie wasn’t the first in college, but he’d been the best so far. August blew him out of the water.

When he arrived at his destination, he pulled his hand down your throat and over your chest, fingertips skimming your belly and lifting away right before he reached your mound.

He stared at first, eyes devouring the site before him. He tilted his head first one way then the other, as if trying to determine the perfect approach. He pushed your knees wide again when you began to tip them in, nervous about the scrutiny. When he finally eased closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation, but the warm wet sensation never came. You felt only his hands slipping under and around your bent legs, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs and holding you in place. You opened your eyes when you heard him inhale deeply and saw his own eyes flutter shut and open again. As he exhaled, the air drifted and teased, first warming and then cooling across your delicate skin.

He turned to nuzzle into the crook of your thigh, nipping and licking lightly on first one side and then the other. When his beard brushed your skin, you shuddered. It was an exquisite tickle, prickly and soft at once and everything you’d imagined. He pulled his arms from under you then, smoothing his hands along the insides of your thighs and pressing your knees wide and still he wouldn’t touch you where you ached for him.

“Please, August,” you pleaded, head straining toward him.

“Patience, little Angel.”

Only when you placed your head back against the headboard, did he dip low again, still nuzzling gently around the edges of your desire. You felt a brush of fingertips down your inner thigh and the back of a finger running up one side of your aching cunt and down the other. Then a finger along both sides, smoothing up then drifting down. At the bottom he captured your pussy lips between the knuckles of two fingers and squeezed, gently opening and closing and finally providing some of the friction you craved. But as soon as you tried to arch into it, he stopped and pulled his hand away.

“I know what you think you need, Angel. I’m here to tell you there’s more. We’ll get there. And I should have said something sooner. It would be better for you to hear this in a less vulnerable state, but if you want me to stop, at any time, I will. Do you understand?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to articulate even the word yes properly, but he wanted to hear it.

“Say it.”

“I understand August,” you spoke softly, then cleared your throat and responded with more conviction. “If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”

He placed a hand on your belly now, heel of his palm pressing just above your clit and rocking back yet still avoiding the tender spot. Then he lifted his palm and swept his finger toward your thigh again, massaging the flesh gently between his fingers and thumb. He did the same on the other side and finally, finally, because you were being so good and laying still for him, he eased a knuckle into your slit and held it there.

And then he craned his neck closer, pulled his finger up through your folds, and let his tongue drag in the spot where his finger was. He pressed his thumb onto your clit and rubbed small circles while his tongue lapped at the slick already forming. When he pulled his mouth away, he slid his thumb down inside you, deep and then shallow as he returned to pressing at your clit.

All you wanted was to lift your hips up to meet his pressure, but you sighed out a low moan instead, trying to be good for him. As if to reward your self-control, he let the tip of his tongue meet his thumb at your sensitive nub and then pulled his hand away so he could close his mouth and suck. When he pulled his lips away, he tugged the kernel with him for a moment before letting it go, then rubbing it with his thumb again.

When his mouth met your pussy once more, it was to press his tongue wide and flat into your folds before curling the tip up and in. He repeated this a few more times, tipping deeper and deeper each time while his thumb still strummed along your button before he finally plunged the length of his tongue right into your core and just like that wrapped his lips around your clit to pull out and away.

You closed your eyes, so he couldn’t see them begging him to put his mouth back where you wanted it, but the anticipation was stoking a fire and you didn’t want to put it out just yet. You felt his fingers push up along the soaking path, tipping into the bud and then dragging back down, middle finger dipping in on the return now. He ran this finger up and down, in and out, circling, sliding, coaxing, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore and you were about to break, he pressed his other hand low on your belly and held your hips in place, like he just knew you were about to shift and search for more friction.

When he could sense you would be good for him, he moved the hand from your belly to cup under your thigh before adding a second finger and rubbing them both furiously from side to side briefly, before splitting his fingers and spreading your labia wide. He dove in to kiss your lower lips, tracing the wide opening before licking in deep and you gasped your eyes open at the memory of his earlier kiss and promise.

As if on cue, any tension you’d been holding in your body at the thought of being tied up, forced to remain still, and eaten out while you couldn’t fully participate just vanished. You sank infinitesimally further into the bed, your arms dropped by fractions of millimeters, and your legs fell open even wider.

August knew it. And he rewarded you for it. His mouth was on you in earnest now, kissing, sucking, nibbling, licking, lapping, prodding. His fingers were inside you and on you and around you. Two fingers twisted inside, pressing down and spreading you open. One tongue laved at your core, coaxing the heat and juice from you. When it came, you thought he would stop because this is when they stop and climb up your belly and slide their cocks inside you and grind into the wet wet heat, but he didn’t stop.

No he kept going. He kissed your quivering pussy and tongued along the folds, gathering up as much of your essence as he could. He spun those two fingers up now, caressing your walls and seeking out that most favorable spot. The one he already had you coming on earlier. The one he made you make yourself come on. God, what did it matter who was doing what?

The fact of the matter was, August Walker was giving you your third orgasm of the night with nothing more than his mouth and hands and he still hadn’t let you touch him for very long with either your fingers or your mouth. And he certainly hadn’t placed in cock deep inside your aching cunt.

But what he was doing was continuing to worship at your altar. Well past the point that you could think straight. Was this now four or five? It was all a blur and all you knew was that if August didn’t stop, you might explode. Suddenly it was a problem that you couldn’t move your arms much past your shoulders.

August was past caring about you thrashing your hips with one aftershock after another. Didn’t mind about having to hook his arms under your thighs and tug you back down the bed each time you tried to grasp the wrist cords and pull yourself off his face. He only wanted you to stop straining so he could show you how much better it could be. He wanted you to relax just like you had right before he’d really started in on you in earnest.

You felt his hand snake up your belly between your legs, creep over the swell of your breast, and rest against your collarbone. At first you resisted the weight, but then you welcomed it. Wondered if it might not be better if he just climbed his whole body right up on top of yours and crushed you into the mattress.

But he wasn’t going to do that, because instead he was going to ensure you came one more time while he scissored his fingers inside you and licked you into oblivion. When you screamed his name, he grinned a kiss against your thigh, crawled out from between your knees, and gently, ever so carefully, eased your legs together and unbent them.

He traced his hand back up your heaving belly and chest, wrapped his fingers around your throat and tilted your neck towards him.

“So, so beautiful when you come, Angel. I wanted it to last forever for you.”

You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue and whimpered into his mouth because you suddenly realized you wanted that too and it was too late.

“Is it too late?” you whispered and he chuckled at you.

“You should pace yourself.” He knelt beside you and unbuckled your wrists, kissing each one as he freed you from the cuffs, then dropping to his back beside you. “Thank you, for opening yourself to me.”

“How in the world are you thanking me after that?” you laughed, still shaking from the explosions, but moving toward your next goal. “And also... Can I get back to this now?”

You began to scoot down between his legs, dragging his silky pants with you and tossing them to the floor.

“If you’re sure you're ready.”

You trailed your fingers up his thighs as you moved back into position on your belly. He was still hard as rock when you reached for him. You licked your lips at the sight, then sent your eyes straight to his while your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock with a smile. You worked him slow and methodically, tonguing along his length, tasting his warmth. You were salivating for this man, dribbling spit to help ease your tour of his member, and yet you knew you’d never reach the base. You let your hand twist around him, squeezing and grabbing while you worked your mouth down to meet it.

“Your mouth feels so good on me, Angel. You like doing that, don’t you?”

You peered at him through your lashes and nodded, attempting another wide smile to agree. His hands smoothed up your arms, over your shoulders, and into your hair. You didn’t need him to hold your head against his cock, but he grunted and shifted his hips to press deeper into your mouth. You would have done this for him all night. Let him lay back and enjoy being worshiped the way he had worshiped you.

But with one hand on your nape and one right on top of your head, August helped himself to the pleasure you were offering without hesitation and began fucking your mouth in earnest. With each thrust, you felt him edge deeper until he finally found the back of your throat.

“There you go,” he grunted. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so deep.”

You could do nothing more than open wide and let him drive, feeling the saliva drip from your mouth with no opportunity to swallow. He set a steady, punishing pace and while you were enjoying it, you also couldn’t help but imagine this must be what your aching pussy would feel like shortly. Your tears were flowing freely now, too, spurred on by the constant stimulation.

Suddenly, he pulled you off and you were confused for one brief, maddening moment until you heard him command you.

“Hands and knees.”

You pressed yourself up as he shifted to his knees as well before returning his hands to your head and dragging your mouth down his cock once again. You felt his grip on your hair at your neck tighten, his pace even faster than before. In just moments, with your watering eyes rolled up as far as they could go to watch him sneer down at you, you felt his release coat the back of your throat, hot and salty, as he came with a growl.

He hauled you up, shifting his knees forward to meet you, pressing his chest against you, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the tears from your cheeks and praised you. He settled back against the headboard, taking you with him and scooping your legs over his, nestling your head against his chest and holding you close. You could feel his heart pounding, the intensity matched only by the speed at which yours beat. His fingers traced along your spine, caressing your shoulder and at the same time he held your hip on his lap and tortured you with tender touches along the flesh of your thighs and legs.

You trailed your fingers over his chest and angled your head to nip at his neck.

“Was that okay?” he asked, uncharacteristically soft. You bit the urge to respond with sarcasm.

“I loved every second of it.” You punctuated your response with a kiss, cupping his cheek and tonguing his mouth open to lick into the softness.

He groaned and kissed you back for what felt like forever until you began to feel a nudge at your thigh. You reached down between your heated bodies to find him, wrapping your hands around his girth and stroking him to full erection. Without breaking the kiss you began to shift, sliding a leg to either side of his hips. Just as you had raised up, ready to slide him deep inside you, he gripped your shoulders tight and pulled away.

“Wait.”

“Why?”

Without answering, he easily lifted and deposited you on your back beside him, before rolling to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled out a foil packet and bottle of lube.

“Because I care about you.” He tore the packet and pulled out the condom then squeezed a few drops of lube in before rolling it over his engorged length. He added a few more drops and pumped a few times, before dropping to his back again beside you.

“Now, where were we?” he grinned.

He slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you to him, guiding your leg over his hip again. On your knees, you took him in hand but before you could position his tip at your entrance, he pressed two fingers deep in your slit, massaging and stroking, scissoring you wide. You felt the heat building again and dropped your head back with a moan, still dragging your hand up and down his length. Your pussy was squelching with the juice he was coaxing and you felt his hand slip out then wrap around yours as you both directed him inside you.

With just the tip, you already felt fuller than you ever had and you sat with that feeling for a moment, hands still wrapped around the rest of his cock and keeping you from sliding all the way down.

Once you felt yourself relax around him, you nudged his hand away with your own and began to sink, slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation. His hands gripped your hips all the while as he gazed in wonder and concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fucking fantastic,” you replied, rocking back slightly to view the point of his disappearance inside you.

“Do you remember what I told you before?’ he asked, a little more heat and darkness creeping into his voice.

“I can stop you at any time.”

“Yes. And if you can’t get the words out, pinch me.”

You were going to nod your understanding, but remembered he liked to hear it as much as you did. “Yes, August.”

“Good girl.”

August began a slow roll of his ups, nudging up into you and shifting you off balance for a moment. You caught yourself with your hands on his chest, then sat back up to start a slow grind of your own. For several long minutes it was just you riding him slowly, like an easy afternoon stroll, completely in sync with his movements.

When he began to pump faster, you braced your hands on his legs behind you trying to hold on for dear life. He gripped you by the hips and held you in place while bucked and then he ran his hands up your sides and hauled you down to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close, kissed you so hard, rocked even deeper into you than you ever thought possible and just when you thought it was about to hit you like a ton of bricks, he flipped you to your back.

He started a slower pace now, still holding you close, still ravishing your mouth. But when you wrapped a leg around his back, he lifted himself onto his arms and looked down between you then over to the leg at his side. With a devilish grin, he reached back and under that leg, shifting it up over his shoulder. He picked up the pace, returning to the steady jackhammering you’d experienced while on top. And while you didn’t think deeper was possible, here he was, moving your limbs around to find more space. He pulled your other leg up now, no longer leaning forward, but up on his knees, holding you open before him while he pounded away.

This was more than you’d ever felt before. This was precision fucking at it finest and you were barely holding on.

“You can let go, Angel. You can come around my cock, squeeze me hard. I won’t break,” he commended you, letting go of one leg and reaching down to massage your clit again with his thumb. That was all it took.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!”

“That’s it, Angel. I can feel you right now,” he growled. “Feel all the heat bursting inside you, feel your walls squeezing around me. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes. My god. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck! Please,” you pleaded, panting and feeling like you were about to pass out. “Please.”

“Please what, Angel?”

“Please…” you didn’t exactly want him to stop but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“I want you to come. Please August.”

He clenched his jaw and gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out and flipping you one more time to your hands and knees. You could barely hold yourself up, sinking to your forearms, head into the mattress. But your ass was still in the air and your pussy was still on display for him and he took you one more time. He lined himself up again behind you, sheathed himself in one long simple stroke, holding still for one moment.

“You're still coming, I can feel it. God, you are amazing. You’re taking me so good.”

Incoherent babble is all he got in return. Even if you’d wanted him to stop, you could no longer form full words, let alone sentences. And how would you ever find the strength to reach back to even graze his skin, let alone pinch it? Whatever. You were riding a wave of the longest high you’d ever been on while August resumed his magnificent assault on you.

After a few more strokes, you felt him swell even larger than he already was, filling you up more fully than he already had. With one final animal roar, he released himself with a hand pressing against your lower back, slowing stilling as he filled the condom inside you. You shuddered with an aftershock and wanted to drop to your belly with him on top and never pull that blanket off.

After just a short moment, you felt his hand at your entrance, fingers drifting lightly through your folds before he gathered himself and the condom in hand and pulled all the way out for good. He pushed against you lightly to urge you flat. You vaguely registered words of praise coming from his mouth, but you were so spun off into oblivion you couldn’t be sure what they were.

From some far off place, you heard water running, then felt a dip beside you, and the wet warmth of a tender caress between your shaking legs. Somehow, you were maneuvered to your back to receive another gentle swipe, before you felt his lips press against your mouth, his tongue seeking your own.

It took everything you had to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze.

“Is that what you meant by passion?” he asked.

“It’s a start.”

August chuckled and gently eased himself to the side of the bed, swinging his legs off and standing. He tilted his head from side to side, loosening a few kinks before he strode with purpose into the bathroom. When he returned, he held out a blue silk robe and helped you into it once you stood from the bed. He tied the belt around your waist, then reached to the floor for his matching pants. As he stood, he gathered you in his arms for another kiss before he took your hand and led you back downstairs.

Trailing behind him, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself deposited on the deep plush conversation sofa. August flipped on the switch to the gas fireplace and leaned over to drop one more kiss on your lips, then told you to sit tight.

The warm glow of the fire mesmerized and hypnotized you, not that it was hard. You had been overstimulated and now the exhaustion was settling in. You felt high, completely spaced out. You had never felt so thoroughly and completely fucked in your entire short life.

August returned a few moments later. Or was it hours? You had no idea. All you knew was that he placed a live edge wooden serving tray holding a few bottles of water, some fruit and cheese, a few small bowls of olives, almonds, and fig jam, some cut baguette, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of bubbly on the low ottoman in front of you, then eased himself onto the couch next to you.

“Let’s get you hydrated,” he leaned forward and grabbed a bottle from the tray.

“How did you know I’d want that?” you teased, harkening back to your first night home.

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” August opened the bottle and pulled you close, tipping the cool, sweet water into your open mouth, eyes watching you closely to see when you’d had enough.

“Only for you,” you purred, reaching for the bottle so you could take another drink for yourself. When you pulled the bottle away from your lips, August bent to steal another kiss from you.

“A little dangerous, too.” He shifted a knuckle along your jaw, catching the soft indent in your chin to bring your face back to his. He kissed you for what felt like a millenia and you could have stayed that way all night. And then it hit you.

“Dangerous how?” you asked, when you pulled away reluctantly.

August closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, still leaning forward from the broken kiss. He sat up straighter when he exhaled and opened his eyes.

“My sweet Angel. I really didn’t mean to spoil our moment, but in a million years could you ever imagine this night could happen again?”

He held your gaze, and wouldn't let you turn away. You could see the anguish in his eyes. This wasn’t a lie.

“But why would…?”

“You deserve to know the passion you crave. I wanted to help you learn about your desire. You are a strong, intelligent, thoughtful, and gorgeous woman. I wanted you to see you are capable of getting everything you want. You only need to be sure of it. And perhaps understand you can ask for more.”

“But I want you.”

August didn’t reply immediately and in the silence you knew he was thinking of exactly the same person you now were. If you were ever going to keep this night a secret from her, you’d have to make it a solitary event with no hope of a repeat. How were you ever going to deny your craving?

“Come here.” August set your bottle of water aside and drew you into his arms, leaning back against the sofa as you relaxed onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head and ran a hand slowly up and down your back.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.

“Life rarely is, Angel. Come on, let’s just enjoy the time we do have. What d’you say, hmm?”

You nodded and sniffed away the beginnings of your tears. August gently sat you up, then prepared small bites of food from the tray and brought them to your lips. You soaked in all the attention, certain you’d never feel so safe and loved again in your life.

With some energy back, you felt your mood lighten. August was right. You should make the most of what time you have left. You reached for the champagne bottle, peeled off the foil wrap, and untwisted the thin metal cage surrounding the cork. August chuckled as he watched you struggle with the cork, so you stuck out your tongue and handed the bottle to him.

“Please?” He popped the cork with ease and poured the golden liquid for you both.

“A toast?” He raised his glass to yours and watched closely as you mulled it over.

“To one night only.”

“One night only.” He smiled with a nod and watched as you took a sip, then stole a kiss before taking a drink from his own glass. He grabbed a strawberry from the tray and held it to your lips as you took a bite. “Now another drink.”

You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth.

“When you try this on your own, be sure to get an extra-dry champagne,” August cautioned. “Moet brut won’t work with this flavor combination.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind when I replenish my champagne cooler at school,” you teased. “What about this one?” You took another bite of strawberry and a sip of champagne, then leaned in for a kiss letting the flavors swirl in your mouth alongside his tongue. August continued the kiss, even as he set his glass aside and grabbed for yours to set it down as well.

He eased you to your back on the couch and slipped the tie loose from your robe before he finally broke the kiss.

“That’s also a good one. You’re quite the quick study.” He pushed the fabric aside, baring your chest and stomach, then appraised you for a moment before running his fingers over your breasts and down your belly, letting his mouth follow the trail.

You let out a soft moan and spread your legs involuntarily as he shifted to the floor and tugged your hips around so your ass was hanging off the sofa to give him better access. He let your legs rest over his shoulders and you sighed as he once again slipped his tongue and fingers through your folds, ravishing your core to bring another orgasm crashing over you.

You barely had a moment to recover before you felt the belt of your robe sliding out from underneath you and in a swift heartbeat, August had you flipped over, urging you onto your knees on the cushions with your arms leaning on the back of the couch. You peered back at him, while he shifted the fabric of the robe over your back, letting it drape off to the side and leaving your bare ass and legs completely exposed to him. He watched you carefully as he rubbed a large hand over one cheek, then drew back and spanked you hard. He was already caressing the red mark before the shocked gasp left your lips. He quirked an eyebrow at you in a silent question. Again?

You pondered the feeling and decided that yes, August Walker could spank your ass. You turned your head to peer over the back of the couch and jutted your hips back towards him wordlessly asking for more, which he gladly gave. The sharp smacks were sometimes single, sometimes doubled up, but always tempered with a gentle caress before he dealt another blow.

You were dripping for him. When he dragged two fingers through your soft petals to gather the nectar, you glanced back to see him wrap his lips around his fingers and lick your taste off them. Then he reached his hand in the pockets of his pants and withdrew another foil square before dropping his pants altogether.

“You planned this,” you cried in feigned scandal.

“I hoped for it. Not the same thing,” he gently replied, rolling the condom over his swollen length. “But it’s always good to be prepared. Speaking of which…”

August reached forward to grasp the silk belt he’d tossed aside, then drew one of your arms back behind you.

“May I have your other arm, Angel?”

You offered it without hesitation, shifting off the back of the couch so that all your weight was now on your knees. You felt him loop the belt around both wrists separately before he wrapped the tie a few more times around both. Holding the binds of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to guide his sheathed cock to your soaked pussy, gliding easily into your core. Once his hips met yours, he started a commanding pace, pumping in and out of you all the while holding you in place with your hands.

As if he could feel you losing control, unable to stay up straight any longer, August let the belt slips a few inches through his fingers before gripping tight again, giving you enough room to bend forward and rest your chest on the back of the couch while he continued to pump in and out of you with a devastating pace, the juice from you squelching around his cock.

“You fucking take me so good, Angel. Such a pretty pussy. Can you hear her talking to me? She says the sweetest things.”

He set a hand on your low back and pressed his against your stretched entrance, letting it drag along his cock as he moved back and forth and gathering some of your slick on the pad. You felt him ease his hand up, fingers pressing into the flesh of your asscheeks before he teased around your puckered rim with his thumb. When the moan escaped your mouth he knew he was on the right path and wasted no more time. He slipped his thumb right into your hole and held on while you bucked back against him.

“Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you? Fucking my cock so good. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. August, fuck yes.” You could barely form more words so moans of pleasure and squeals of delight were all he heard but they were enough to spur him on and lead him down the path of his own release just as soon as he felt yours.

With one practiced tug, he released you from the bind and eased himself out of your still pulsing pussy, then guided you to stand before him, pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck while he pulled the spent condom off his softening dick. He grabbed a napkin from the tray and wrapped it in a wad before spinning you to face him and kissing you hard.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

He led you upstairs one last time, abandoning the snack platter and half-full champagne bottle. He took you through to his bathroom, turned on the warm spray jets of the tiled shower, then disrobed you completely. You stepped into the glass cabinet and turned to grab his arm to bring him with you.

Without prompting, he grabbed a bar of the same bright citrus scented soap you always found in your guest room and lathered you up. If you weren’t about to fall asleep on your feet, you’d succumb so easily to the way his fingers danced across your skin, caressing every nook and cranny like they knew the way by heart. He spun you into the water to rinse and set to cleaning himself.

And now you had your answer. It was body wash, with a woodsy, pine scent. He rubbed it all over his body with his bare hands. He watched you watching, mesmerized at the way his muscles moved and the carefree way he gathered his own package and lathered it with suds before shifting you gently out of the way and rinsing off under the cascading water.

Yes, he leaned an arm against the wall, but that could be just because you were with him and he wanted to encase you while he kissed you, tongue probing gently and mouths moving in unison. He groaned as he pulled away.

“We’d better get some sleep.”

The fluffy towel he dried you with was heavenly against your skin. He toweled himself as well before leading you back to his bed.

“Are you comfortable sleeping here with me tonight?” he asked. “If you’d rather wake up in your own bed, I’d understand.”

It was uncharacteristically sweet, the way August was now wondering how you would feel in the morning, knowing you could never have him again.

“I’d like to stay with you for tonight, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay.” He pulled the covers back and slipped in, holding them up for you to join him. Wrapped in his arms, head against his chest, you found yourself drifting off faster than you would have liked. You loved pillow talk, but supposed you’d managed that with him before, during, and a little after downstairs by the fire. Besides, pillow talk was for lovers. Which you were now assured you were not.

You woke later than you’d planned, your body still clearly recovering from the unexpected vigorous activity. August was not with you and though you knew the morning would not be a time to whisper sweet nothings, still you’d hoped to wake in his arms, just as you’d fallen asleep. The robe he’d lent you last night was draped across the foot of the bed and your lingerie was folded neatly on a chair nearby.

You shrugged into the robe and grabbed your things, then headed downstairs where you could smell coffee already brewed but found no sign of August in the kitchen. You continued down to your room where you realized you’d left your phone all night. Shit.

When you picked it up, there were about ten messages from Gemma and you braced yourself as you opened the app to read them. Yes, in the end she wondered where the fuck you were and why you weren’t answering her but there was no urgent call to get her immediately. The night with Mike seemed like it had gone exactly as planned.

She only wanted to let you know Mike’s friends were throwing a New Year’s party and of course you were invited. Mike even had a university friend coming in from out of town for the party and Gemma wanted to set you up with him. The guy in the picture she sent looked cute enough. Apparently he sailed and had dark, wavy hair, a little shorter than Mike’s. His smile was amazing, but to your eyes, he was a boy. He would never compare, you were sure.

Just as you were contemplating how to let him down gently, your phone rang and Gemma’s number appeared. You took a deep breath and hoped nothing in your voice would betray you.

“Hey!” you answered brightly.

“Whoa, too much. Too loud. Calm down.” Gemma was hungover, for sure.

“Sorry,” you quieted. “Everything okay?”

“I think I drank a liquor store last night. Mike’s still passed out, but I need my bed. Can you come get me?”

“Now? Yeah. Of course. Let me just get my shoes on. See you in thirty?”

Gemma agreed, though she wished you’d ignore some of the speed signs along the way and you laughed, promising to grab a Vitamin Water from the fridge before you left.

You noticed another message come through just as you hung up with Gemma. August was in his office. He didn’t want you to think you’d been abandoned, but he had to get an early start for meetings and wanted to let you sleep in. You texted him you were off to get Gemma. Chat bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before a solitary frowny face finally appeared.

With no idea how to respond and not a lot of time to spare hashing it out, you dressed quickly, grateful you’d already washed off last night’s extravagance. You grabbed the keys to Gemma’s car, grabbed a water from the gym, and headed back out to the garage.

Gemma was still too dazed to inquire much about why you were absent from your phone last night and you didn’t offer any conversation about it. The whole drive was pretty quiet except for the radio. August was gone when you got back and while Gemma couldn’t care less, you were a little let down. You’d hoped you’d be able to at least sit with him a bit while Gemma slept off the rest of her hangover, but that wasn’t to be.

He kept himself pretty scarce the rest of the week, too, texting Gemma he wouldn’t be home for dinner any of the nights until you were scheduled to head back home for Christmas Eve. Four long-suffering nights and days filled with late breakfasts by the pool and dinner and drinks in town with Mike and other friends. You barely got to say goodbye to August as he breezed off to one final meeting the morning of the 24th before Gemma came upstairs to grab coffee.

Christmas was low key with just the six of you at your parents. No other relatives were traveling in and no one else nearby had invited you over for anything special. Gemma always celebrated alone with her dad, too. Your aunt wanted to take you and your mom to the sales the day after Christmas and that was an all day, exhausting affair. You were in bed by 9.

Over the next five days, you visited with Gemma and Mike, old high school friends, and your parents a few times. But never August. Gemma said as wonderful as Christmas was with him, he was stressing about the deal and spending all his time at the office since the day after. He needed to get the deal signed by the 31st at the absolute latest. And his company’s New Year’s Eve gala was set for the Grand Hotel downtown. He’d offered you both tickets, but Gemma really wanted to hang out with Mike.

Will was nice enough, if a little on the arrogant side. He was a good kisser and you could kinda imagine what he might be able to do with that mouth placed somewhere else, but then you really thought about it and decided the missing facial hair would change the feel. Nevermind. He was at least gracious about the letdown.

The drive back to school was a little somber. You were still trying to figure out if there was any possibility of a roommate swap. Gemma offered to just put you up at her place for the semester, but you didn’t want to sleep on a couch fantasizing about her father while she was in the other room. Maybe Brigette would just spend all her time at Charlie’s, like you should have.

A few days after the start of classes, a small package arrived for you in your mailbox. You’d grabbed it on the way to your Criminal Procedures lecture and stuck it in your backpack to open later. When you got back to your room after taking advantage of office hours to clear the theme for your research paper, you sat cross legged on your bed and opened the small, cardboard box. Inside, nestled in tiny, delicate packing peanuts, was an even smaller, embossed white paper sleeve surrounding a small, red velvety square box.

Inside was a thin, delicate gold chain, with a charm of black onyx arranged in the gold outline of an art deco wing. An angel's wing.

You searched the box for a card and finally found one buried under the packing material once you realized you’d opened the box upside down. There was a simple message to you.

'Angel. This belongs on the part of you I never got the chance to chain. Remember all you are worth and take it as you can. Yours for one night. - A’

Taglist (if you are crossed out I can’t tag you)

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @feelmyroarrrr @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @mollymal @summersong69 (Old times sake? @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sebbytrash @anotherwinchesterfangirl )

Holiday Angel: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings @plaidcat4815 @augustsprincess @alexakeyloveloki @gofirityouguys

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker au #ceo!august walker #ceo!august #best friend's dad #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #holiday angel #mine

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rarepairqueenmochi · 1 year ago

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I. AM. SOBBING. IN JOY.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND SO INCREDIBLY DETAILED! THE PATTERNS IN APPLE'S DRESS AND JACKET, AND THE BLACK MARKING ON HER ARMS! AND YOU DREW HER PLUS-SIZED, YES, WE LOVE THAT!

THIS IS SO AMAZING AND SPECTACULAR, THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR DRAWING THIS! I AM SO HONORED THAT YOU DREW THIS FOR MY FIC!

TUMBLR IS ACTUALLY THE WORST WHEN IT COMES TO IMAGE SIZE WTF!!! erm, anyways! Here’s Zombie!Apple from @hodgepodgeoffandoms really *REALLY* great MH x Crossover fic :3 (There’s like a snippet of Zombie!Farrah you can see but it was a crude sketch so I didn’t include it,,

(Also with the blood on her mouth I know they don’t eat human flesh but like ***spoiler*** Dexter bit SUPER hard into RH so there has to be *some* blood involved with the bite,,,)

#ever after high #zombie apocalypse #zombie au #apple white #eah au #seriously this is amazing #incredible #I cannot explain how much I love this #I am in utter glee

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summercreolefanfictioner · 1 month ago

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the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chapter 3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

WARNING: mentions of sex, violence, slight swearing

chapter summary: Touya tells his therapist the moment he decided he should date her for real.

a/n: It was an emotional roller coaster as I wrote this chapter. I was listening lately to Chappell Roan's Casual and it literally made me cry

masterlist

Fuyumi was Touya's next visitor, and he was silently gobbling up her homemade soba, noting how she got more adept in cooking than before. Nah, he just was not home for 7 years. As if he would know if she improved or not. Only Natsuo and Shouto could tell the truth.

While he was busy eating, Fuyumi kept narrating random stories of Natsuo finally proposing to his girlfriend. However, he has decided to remove himself from the family register, opting to adapt his future wife's family name to theirs. As much as Fuyumi wanted to scold him, she knew this would put Natsuo at ease. He didn't want to be associated with the sins of their family, hence his conclusion after Touya's return. She also added that she already left her teaching job for something similar that pays more. Plus, there had been a ruckus lately that media outlets got wind of Touya's return. To this day, they are still wanting confirmation if Enji will finally step down as the CEO and appoint Touya as his successor.

"Dad made sure no one would know you're here. He made a public announcement that you were visiting a few relatives as part of your reunion with them," she assured him, then remembered something. "Oh, speaking of, Shouto visited you last time, right? He didn't give you a hard time?"

Touya slurped his noodles, gulped the last bite, and looked at her straight. "He brought me candy."

Fuyumi clapped her hands in glee, though a bit awkward. She has never been around Touya ever since he told her about how they were all failures. "H-He did, huh? Did you like them?"

Touya frowned. He's still not on good terms with Shouto yet, but he's not mad at him either. He ate the candies as proof of that. "I don't like the beer ones. They taste too sugary and sour."

"Okay. I'll take note of that."

Time ticked by, and the agony constricted in his throat. They used to be in sync, almost in tune with each other's minds. It was his fault and his immature ways of belittling her even though he was generally weak against her and their mother. There was no way he was hurt whenever he hurt his siblings, especially her. Fuyumi was his precious sister, and she stood up as their makeshift mother when all things went south even when she didn't have to.

"Touya-nii, I heard what you did in high school," she started hesitantly, "you know... the reason you got suspended before you ran away."

Touya tensed at that, holding his breath in shock. He wanted to bury that memory in secret. She didn't want her to know what he did before he decided to pack up jack shit and run away from all this. After a few seconds, he heard her giggling and said to him:

"Actually, I kicked him on the shin when I saw him." Then she glared and hissed in a whisper, "Don't tell the others, okay? I skipped a class just so I could run on him in the hallway back then."

There was silence, and then Touya chuckled, light humor coming from his lips before it turned into full-on laughter, embarrassing Fuyumi who was already flustered as it is.

"W-Wha—Touya-nii! Why are you laughing?! It's not funny!" she chided, pouting like she did when he successfully laid out his pranks on her.

He sighed in contentment, the laughter dying as he placed his chin on one hand and smirked.

"You really are my sister, after all," he snickered, sending him a mischievous grin as she huffed in annoyance. "So what happened? Was he able to walk afterward?"

Fuyumi only shrugged, seeming not to care about how this jerk was doing or if he was even alive up until now. "I don't know. I just heard people say he skipped the whole day because he couldn't walk back to class."

Touya whistled. "Damn. Now I suddenly feel bad for all his unborn children."

"Shut up, you!"

And they talked some more about mundane things, how Touya was coping with everything happening in the facility, even secretly told her he carried an mp3 player just so he could listen to his girlfriend's voice. "I bet it's all her moaning your name or something perverted." "Fuyumi-chan, I am not that perverted." "Whatever~" He also found out about their mother taking up painting, so Enji bought this one big studio so she could paint and relax; and also the fact that Shouto was dating someone from his class, someone named Momo or something. He has yet to introduce her formally to the family, though.

"How about your girlfriend, Touya-nii?" Fuyumi suggested. "When can we meet her?"

"When the time is right," he replied dryly, but honestly, he didn't know. Touya left her after that night, and he knew his girlfriend was an understanding woman, and she had lots of patience. He just hoped she would still be there since he wasn't writing her anything, even to the point of not disclosing his main residence and the facility he was in.

"By the way, is there anything else you need before I go?" Fuyumi asked.

"Make me soba again," he requested with a soft smile. "I missed this."

"Okay."

"And also..." Touya frowned, looking away in embarrassment. "Ask Shouto to bring more of those cigarette candies. Don't tell him I like them, though."

Fuyumi giggled at his silly behavior. Some things never really change. "Of course. Anything else."

"Fuyumi-chan."

"Hm?"

Touya sighed, looking at her straight in the eye, wanting to convey his sincerity. He'd been holding it since he left them years ago.

"I'm sorry about what I said before... about us being failed creations. You're perfect, Fuyumi-chan, just the way you are."

Fuyumi held her breath, her hands on her chest as she took in his words. Touya apologized to her. He apologized... after seven years. She knew he didn't have to because all she understood at the time was him being frustrated and mad at their father for neglecting them, and that he was just venting out his feelings on her. That's why Fuyumi held it in. All the responsibility of holding the family together was pushed onto her shoulders, especially when Touya left. She knew their family was broken beyond repair, and yet he held her own feat, ensuring she would get them all to eat dinner together or spend time just a bit.

And now... now it felt like Fuyumi could finally be at ease and care about herself more.

"Jeez, you didn't have to," she berated him, wiping a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "I already forgave you a long time ago, Touya-nii."

Touya softened at that, finally coming to terms with her. Afterwards, he handed her a slip of paper, and it contained a list of items.

"Burn a hole in Father's credit card with those things and buy yourself your favorite things. I need them."

Fuyumi scanned the items, noting how Touya was very specific with the brand name of the soap he wanted as well as the perfume. It was odd, considering how her brother had certain favorites when it came to the hygiene department. Nonetheless, if he wanted it, then he would have it.

"Got it. I'll bring them here next time."

------

"Did you like her when you first met her?" the therapist asked. "Like, as in you had a crush or was attracted."

Touya contemplated the perfect answer since he had a lot on his mind when he first met her. He could even go on and on about "Oh, yeah, sure. She was pretty, and I think she knows she's pretty, but she's not the 'all heads will turn over' pretty. She was just alright. And when I first saw her, she was always dressed up like she was in spring, and she was all meek and stuttering I thought a cat got her tongue so twisted like that or something. But I wasn't really attracted to her like that. She was a lot of trouble, given her situation with her ex and all, so I really didn't like her that much. Then again, she was always nice to me, and she didn't complain that much. Plus, she minds her own business, so I don't mind being around her."

But instead of telling his therapist what was on his mind, he just merely said. "Not really. She's troublesome."

"Okay," the therapist nodded. "So what made you decide to date her if you find her troublesome?"

"The situation just called for it. At that time, she was done mourning about her breakup with her ex, and I have been staying over more than usual at her place. One day, she asked what kind of relationship we had because she was weirded out at the fact that I knew she liked me and she didn't like it when there were no labels. I didn't seem to mind her, so I said we should go for it."

Now that he heard himself say it, Touya couldn't believe how simpleminded he was about declaring their relationship like it was some kind of one-and-done deal or some simple task he needed to get done. He could've given her a bit of romance instead of just dating her just for the sake of it.

She deserved all my love, after all.

"So you took advantage of the situation?"

"Hmm... kind of."

No, that wasn't it. There's more to why he decided to be with her. He was a bit late when he fell for her (or rather when he realized he was in love with her), so there was a side of him that regretted how he acted like some kind of constipated teenage boy whenever she would try doing lovey-dovey stints. Well, who could blame him? Touya has dated a few girls before (with only one of them lasting for about a year, he guesses? Ah, he doesn't know anymore), so being with her was new. He could even say she was a lot more experienced in dating than him, which kind of sucked because he had sort of "explored" more in the dating field than her.

"At that time, I thought I wanted to be there for her."

"Why do you think you wanted to be there for her?"

Silence.

"Do you feel indebted because she let you stay over even if you weren't her boyfriend at the time?"

Silence.

"Were you pitying her after everything that happened between her and her ex-boyfriend?"

Touya shook his head.

"Did you feel like she needed you at the time?"

"I..."

Did she really? Was he really needed at the time? She never said anything. When she was having her own silent pity party, she had acted as usual, and it did not occur to him at all if a lot was going on in her mind about her ex or if she was regretting her decision to dump his cheating ass. She never fully opened up to him about what exactly happened. She just informed him that she had already broken up with that cheater; that was all. Then weeks passed, and everything was normal, except for her and her unusual silence.

Then one day, she suddenly asked him, "Hey, Dabi-kun? Umm... what are we?"

He had to turn off the television to focus on her as she sat on the other end of the couch, her hands fiddling with her skirt as she shyly breathed out to calm herself. She must've been thinking hard about opening this topic to him, considering the way she was trying to articulate the right words.

"You know about my feelings for you, and ever since I broke up with..." She never dared to mention his name; she wanted him out of their lives already, "you know who, you've been staying here a lot. It's not like I don't want you here. I just... well... I just need clarification, I guess?"

"You guess?" Touya raised a brow, observing her movements and waiting for her to finally get it over with.

"Well, I don't know what to call you. A roommate, perhaps?" Then she shook her head at the term. "That's not it. We're not even sharing a room."

"Oh." Touya smirked teasingly, scooting a bit closer, but not too much. There was still a safe distance between them. "So you want me to share a room with you? How bold."

She instantly flushed at his words, hearing him chuckle lightly as she tried her hardest to be direct. "W-Well... I can't call you a friend. I don't want you as a friend. But I don't like being in a situation where I don't know what exactly we are to each other."

"Then go ahead."

Huh?

"Go ahead and do what you want. I don't mind if we date."

Now that got her scrambling towards him on her knees, suddenly clasping his hands in hers. "R-Really? I can call you my boyfriend and I am now your girlfriend?"

Touya was stunned at the physical touch but nonetheless maintained his composure. "Just so you know, you're gonna regret this. I'm still not gonna give you what you want."

I cannot give you romance. I'm not the best person for that. I don't have an inkling about love and all that stuff. I don't do boyfriend things. That's why, you can back out now. Just find someone else and let me go because I couldn't do it. I'm a jackass for not wanting to be with you yet staying.

"Then, we are dating."

"Okay."

She brought his hands to her cheeks and then laid a warm kiss on his skin affectionately. For the first time, he saw her wear a genuine smile, something she never did. It was that day when he felt so special to see that kind of rare face, and it was only for his eyes—him and no one else's.

"Okay."

"All my life, I wanted to be chosen. I wanted to be given special treatment because I was someone's favorite. She gave that feeling to me. There has never been a day when she would make me feel otherwise. For her, even if I never gave her the best things or even if all I could do was be angry and vent out, I was the perfect person she could ask for. And I knew the consequences of her choosing me, and I knew they would all be not good for her. It didn't sit well with me to leave her alone."

"So, it wasn't love. You didn't love her. You wanted the feeling she gave you."

"At first," Touya admitted. "Eventually, I did. It was not the hardest thing. She became so important to me I don't want to lose her."

"That's why you're here, in this facility, even if you really didn't want to."

"... Yes."

------

"So far away from the start to the end...

And everything seems so pale and blue...

Worst come along to despair...

Come and take me with you far away..."

Touya lay on his bed, listening to the same song he plays whenever he wants sleep to take over him. Remembering her should've brought him joy, a sense of reason in living in this world full of pain and misery; but it only made him realize how much he deprived her of the very thing she wanted from the start.

Love.

Love fucking hurts so bad, he thought, blue eyes staring at the ceiling as he imagined her hovering on top of him. In his mind, she would tuck her hair beneath her ear and smile lovingly at him. And then, she would touch his cheek and kiss his forehead, saying "Wake up, Dabi. Food's already prepared on the table." But then, for him, at the time, it felt like she was loving a stranger, not him. After all, Dabi was not his real name. He was Todoroki Touya, hence his reasoning that she did not really love the real him until that night when he allowed himself to be free from all the hate he carried, to be foolish and naive of all the hurt and just let her embrace him.

"Say my name for me. My name is Touya. Don't call me Dabi. You said you knew Dabi's not my real name, right?"

"Touya."

He kissed her cheek. "One more," he whispered in her ear, wrapping her legs around his hips so he could comfortably settle her on his lap.

Her arms held his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck. The more he peppered kisses on her skin, the more unbearable the desire she had for him.

"Todoroki."

"Eh?"

"Todoroki Touya," he revealed, pulling away to look straight at her. He rubbed his thumb across her lip, feeling the softness against his finger as he was tempted to take a dive and savor her sweet taste. Touya would have to wait, though, until she could finally remember his real self and accept every inch of him. His name. The white hair. His blue eyes. The burnt scars on his skin. The demons inside his brain telling him everything was too good to be true. That this was all just a ploy; a good dream he never had, and soon, she will disappear and not remember him.

"Please remember that. That's my real name. Todoroki is written as roaring fire, and Touya means lamp arrow. That's my name." Touya tightened his embrace around her waist, and it made her swoon, letting his breath ghost over his skin as a mark of his territory. "Say my name for me."

"Todoroki Touya," she repeated to his hair, hearing him sigh in relief as he arranged their position, entering her slowly as she moaned again, "T-Todoroki... T-Touya—AH!"

He chuckled, looking up at her with mirth as he moved slowly to let her adjust. "That's one way of saying my name."

"T-Touya!" She only covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. "That's so mean."

He removed her hands from her face and leaned closer, his lips barely touching hers as he said with a teasing grin, "But you love me, don't you?"

She didn't deny his claim, further letting him close as he claimed her lips in a searing kiss, angling his head so he could take her deeper and have a taste of her heaven. "You know I love you. I always do."

Touya kissed her lips lightly. "That's great; because I love you too."

And then she cried so much it could turn into a waterfall. Touya knew it was all worth the wait, and yet, he could only spend that one night before having to leave her for her sake. If he wanted to give her love, then he would have to face his demons first. As he listens to the song again, he reaches out a hand and imagines it was her face he was holding.

"Please wait for me."

Silence.

"Okay?"

------

Shouto visited him three days after Fuyumi did, handing him three boxes of the fake cigarettes he had given before. In exchange, Touya slipped an envelope with a specific name and address. Along with it were a few stems of baby's breath attached with tape on the front to seal the letter. Shouto wanted to comment on the creativity even if the style looked somewhat like a dork would do. Then again, this was a treatment center, not an art supplies shop, and Touya had to manage with what he could get his hands on.

"Please drop that letter to that specific address in person," Touya instructed carefully, emphasizing the last part. "Do not send it to a local postal office. Just give it to the person directly. Understand?"

Shouto read the name at the back.

"Who's this?" his younger brother asked.

Touya opened the pack of fake cigarettes and took one stick between his teeth like he did a few months ago. Unlike the nicotine flavor, the taste of mint and chocolate coated his tongue. "She's my girlfriend. We haven't talked ever since I returned to the main house. Might as well inform her I'm still alive and we're still dating."

"Oh." Shouto blinked in realization. Touya had mentioned when he returned to the main house that he stayed with someone for two years and added that it was a girl. Of course, it did not take a genius to figure out he was talking about his girlfriend, making their mother so proud that their oldest brother had found someone to be with during his hardest times.

However...

Touya-nii had never talked about his girlfriend to us. Did not even say her name or where she lives or her job. But Fuyumi-nee said Touya-nii carries an mp3 player with his girlfriend's voice.

"What if I don't meet her there?" Shouto asked for confirmation. "You said you haven't talked since you returned."

Touya jeered at the idea. "That's a load of bull. She won't do that. She said she's mine, so she's mine, and I'm hers."

He sounds like his younger self, Shouto blankly thought, staring at the envelope in his hand. "But why me? You could've entrusted this to Natsu-nii or Fuyumi-nee."

"No thanks." Touya could only imagine Natsuo and Fuyumi throwing jabs at him for being so lovey-dovey with her or berating him for not contacting her for so long. "You're the one who knows me so well. I know I can trust you with that."

Shouto had to keep the envelope in the inside pocket of his denim jacket.

"Fine. You owe me soba."

"Sure. Once I get out of here."

"No. I want it now."

"Just blow from Father's card. Thank me later."

Afterwards, Shouto handed a bag of items that Touya specifically requested from Fuyumi, and he noticed that the first thing Touya took out was the perfume. Actually, Shouto was with Fuyumi when they bought it, and when they took a whiff, they marveled at how good it smelled. "Smells like fresh laundry and Sunday morning," they alluded. But it was a lot different from their brother. Touya's range of perfumes did not smell like this one.

But for some reason, seeing as how Touya held a small smile when he took a sniff, Shouto thinks maybe his brother's tastes might have changed in ways they never knew.

------

The next day, Shouto went to the address mentioned in the letter, making sure he as the correct room number and all that stuff. He pressed the doorbell once. No answer. Another press. Still no answer. He sighed, settling for knocking on the door rudely to alert the person inside. And when no one was still answering, he made the banging sound louder.

"Can I help you? I'm the landlord here."

Shouto looked to his left and saw an old woman carrying a small basket of laundry. At first, she seemed overjoyed but when Shouto turned his full face to her, she became disheartened, setting aside her basket on the ground.

"I'm sending a letter to someone," he said, taking out the envelope. "Her name is... My brother specifically told me to give it to her in person."

"Oh!" The woman clasped her hands in glee. "No wonder I thought you were familiar. Your left side looked a lot like her boyfriend. Tell me, is your brother doing okay?"

Shouto was dumbfounded at what he heard as he touched the side that had his red hair and blue eyes. My left side... looks a lot like... Touya-nii? But Touya-nii has white hair, and I don't have piercings.

"A-Ah, he's doing okay," he replied, trying to be polite but also not mentioning his brother undergoing rehab and therapy. News had been circulating online and if word got out that Touya was alcohol- and cigarette-dependent, the media and paparazzi would disturb their family's peace.

The woman sighed in relief. "I really thought they broke up. She said she hadn't received anything from him ever since he found another job somewhere away from Shizuoka."

Shouto could only nod, not knowing what to say considering he couldn't divulge more information about his brother. "Umm... is she not there?"

"Ah, forgive me! She went out earlier for her doctor's appointment. She'll be back later."

Shouto held the envelope in his hands. While the thought of asking the landlord to give it to woman sounded good, he remembered Touya's words.

"Just give it to the person directly. Understand?"

"Maybe I can give her the letter," she offered but Shouto shook his head.

"I'll come back another time," he replied and went on his merry way.'

He walked down the apartment and trudged down the street when he saw a pregnant woman with long dark hair holding an umbrella in one hand while the other had a bag of oranges. Seeing her face from afar, Shouto noted that the woman looked pretty (not as beautiful as his Momo, of course), her whole appearance donning a spring fashion with her summer dress and flip flops. She adjusted the loose hair from her face, causing her to accidentally drop the bag of oranges. Good thing, Shouto was there to help, quickly helping her pick up the oranges as her condition prevented her from doing so.

"I'll help you take this with you," he said.

The pretty woman was ecstatic, sighing as she rubbed a hand on her belly. It wasn't that big yet, but it was visible to anyone's eye. As they were walking, Shouto couldn't help but notice her familiar scent; the same one he and Fuyumi bought for Touya. And to further confirm his suspicion, they were standing in front of her door, the same door he had knocked on earlier.

He glanced at the woman beside him, carefully memorizing her features. Again, long dark hair with the most vivid hazel eyes that shine so bright. Feminine features that resemble spring and a warm smile. The scent of fresh laundry and a lazy Sunday morning. Also, the slightly visible bump on her stomach. Maybe, she could be the answer to his dilemma.

"I can carry on from here," she chirped, then bowed politely. "Thank you, sir."

"Are you...?" he asked.

Please say yes. Please let it be you.

She nodded in surprise. "T-That's me. Is there a problem?"

With determination, Shouto took out the letter from his jacket and handed it to her. When she saw the familiar handwriting on the back and the stems of the baby's breath taped on the front, her heart pounded in anticipation. She looked back at Shouto.

"I'm Todoroki Shouto, and I'm here on behalf of my brother, Todoroki Touya."

She breathed hard at the revelation. So, it was true. Touya never backed out on what he said in his previous letter before he left. He wasn't letting her go. He will come back for her, and make her his again. As she touched her pregnancy bump, Shouto could notice the unease in her expression.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "I just—"

She pened the door. "I'll have tea ready for you."

The world started spinning for her again.

next chapter

masterlist

tagging: @skiiyoomin, @crookedherringcolorclod, @suksatoru

(feel free to message me if you want me to tag you here too)

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kookieswan · 11 months ago

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Red Light - Diamond Eyes

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, HEAVY angst. The fluff disappears pretty quickly. Aha.

Warnings: OH boy here we go. Mentions of death/madsacres, heavy gore (dead bodies) and blood. MC gets injured semi seriously… It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: You thought you had all the answers, thought you were safe, but in reality you’re nothing more than a lamb to the slaughter.

Notes: This happens a few days after Dearheart. It’ll have a part two, but for a while we’ll be jumping back in time to fill in some gaps. Hope you all enjoy!

This is Part 38 of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

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

Throwing the door open to your very cluttered office, you stare into the depths of the dark room. It’s as you left it, paperwork tossed onto the desk without a care. And you don’t care, not really anymore when you lie a majority of the time on the reports you turn in. No one needs to know what you know.

Stepping in sluggishly, you glance at the clock and see the hand slowly ticking toward the 6. It’s not your fault you didn’t get to sleep till late, not with everything on your mind. You take your coat off, tossing on one of the chairs as you slip on your crip white coat in its place.

Sliding into the comfy desk chair (that you had delivered for yourself because the one they provided you was horrid) you glance down with a frown, mad at yourself for not finishing everything last night. Pushing it aside, you lift the coffee you got beforehand to your lips and sip with a low moan. Peppermint mocha will be your serenity for now.

Sitting peacefully at your desk is something that doesn’t happen very often. You stare down at the cup you hold, sighing as you drop it lightly onto the table. It’s been an eventful few weeks, all of your Nightmares having high emotions, breaking points that have gone one way or another.

Making that breakthrough with Jimin was as shocking as it was amazing, though you can’t help but to thank Taehyung for the push. The snake like Nightmare has been the hardest to understand, but now…

Your landline starts to ring suddenly, startling to you from the thoughts you got lost in. Peering down at the ID, it flashes as Williams. You promptly press decline and then ignore the fact that he ever called because he doesn’t really call unless it’s something dumb. He won’t ruin your attempt at bliss.

It lasts for a sad twenty minutes before the quiet leaves you. The sudden thumping down the hallway isn’t weird at first, no. It’s pretty often that ominous noises echo down the halls, but the sudden yells and screams signals to you that it’s an issue. You pinch your nose, waiting for all hell to break loose, because why wouldn’t it?

The screams that follow after a short pause are horrifying; they echo loudly down the hall, tearing into your ears. It’s enough to make you lean back, a grimace coming to your face in place of the annoyance. What in the world…

The door flies off the hinges then, the same Nightmare as before ripping it off. He’s drenched in blood, covered head to toe like he took a sadistic bath. You stare, mouth slightly ajar as he steps into the room. It’s immediately apparent that somethings not quite right, the usual glee that Yoongi holds when killing completely absent.

His breathing is loud and uneven, and as he looks up, you notice his eyes have gone completely silver, no pupil or iris on sight. The man looks absolutely crazed, a snarl ripping through his chest af he slams a wet hand on your desk. You can’t help but to flinch lightly as some of the blood splatters into your face.

The more you look, Yoongi just appears… Wrong. Like himself, but bits and pieces are different. He’s taller for one, towering over you as he bares his teeth, the points there sharp enough to tear anyone to shreds. His face is sallow, cheek sinking in, skin tight on his frame. It’s him, but it’s not.

“They’ve taken him down below! They FUCKING TOOK him! Ripped him out of my arms and I could even do anything, FUCK.” It’s a mix between a wail and scream, the sound piercing through your confusion. Standing slowly, you try to look as nonthreatening as possible, words slow and overly cautious.

“They took…? Jungkook?!” The realization dawns on you quickly, panic setting in. Taking a Nightmare down below is considered normal but a regular human…? It doesn’t make a lick of sense. Yoongi spits down at you, blood landing on the paperwork you were trying to avoid as he snarls again. It’s then the uneasiness sets in; Yoongi’s never been like this before.

“Who the fuck else would they take?! They took him from me and I-“ Watching his jaw clench tightly as his eyes close, it’s clear he’s holding back in every way he can from going on a massacre. The man takes a deep breath, shaky as he opens his eyes again. The pure lack of emotion in the shimmery depths borders on something sinister, and your anxiety raises.

“Why in the hell- Okay. Hold on Yoongi. Please, just let me figure out what happened-“ He doesn’t let you finish as he rounds the desk, tightly grabbing onto your wrist, elongated nails diging in tight. It hurts, but you don’t say anything as he tugs you out of your office. Glancing down, you wince at the way the blood he’s painted in sinks into your freshly washed coat.

You don’t get far before the lights switch off, red then flashing in their place. A Red Alert, meaning that somone had made it off this floor to notify that Yoongi got out. The Nightmare doesn’t hesitate though, kicking a body to the side as he continues on his way.

“We’re going to get him back right now Doctor. Right. Fucking. Now. I’ll paint the halls fucking red with more entrails and brains if I have to. Slighter every guard, we very doctor; anything that takes a breath.”You tug back on him a bit to try and get him to stop. And stop he does, right in his tracks. You nearly slam into him, not being able to catch yourself as you tumble to the ground.

The thickening blood in the ground washes over your knees and hands, and your stomach flips heavily. You’re not on the floor long enough to get sick though, the Nightmare pulls you up to your feet roughly, almost in a dragging motion as you slip around. One of your heels falls off, but you don’t mention it

“… Of course I’ll get him back, but I can’t just go down to the lower levels. I don’t even have the access… I’m sure I can talk with Dr. Kim about it, but…” It comes out almost confused; you’re not sure how to handle this anger. You’ve seen Yoongi livid, but never at you. Never like this. He stoops down low enough until your face to face, the death on his breath encircling.

You silently call for Hoseok as harsh puffs of air hit your face, worried now that this is completely out of your control. Yoongi’s gone off the deep end, and nothing you can say is going to change that. Not when he looks at you like he never had before, like he’s ready to end you.

“I don’t think you understand. I’ll hurt you, rip a fucking finger or two off. You’d be fine without them, still functioning and able to do your job. You don’t want that, right?” You stay silent, unsure of how to process his words at first ad you call for Hoseok again. Yoongi pulls back and raises his eyebrows high, waiting for your reply. You have nothing.

His hold tightens as he shifts, lifting your wrist up till it’s at eye level. You don’t have enough time to react as he continues to holds your wrist with the one hand, the other reaching up to grab a finger gently. He smiles down at you, teeth tie dyed in white and red as the lights continue to flash.

You flex your finger.

Yoongi snaps it like a twig.

The pain comes rushing in after, a cry of shock leaving you lips as you instinctively try to pull away. It sits at an odd angle, the look of it making you sick. Yoongi just holds onto you as you struggle, staring down with thinly veiled rage. He snaps it back into place just as quickly, the pain enough to cause dots in your vision.

“There we go.” You think you hear the smallest tinge of regret there, but he steels himself as he starts to tug you along again. You loose your other heel, feet slapping against the bloody floor as you attempt to keep up, mind in an uncertain haze. There’s no more keeping up, not now.

“Yoongi…” It comes out terribly raspy, nearing a sob as your panic rises yet again; he’s a lost cause. He snaps at that, grabbing the back of your neck and wrenching your head back. You cry out as his lips brush your ear, head twisted at an odd angle.

“Be good Doctor. Don’t make me do something I might regret.”

#red light ♥️#hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts angst #bts fluff #bts monster au #bts horror au

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yyunari · 10 months ago

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JAY 01. 🎤﹕ꕤ﹔ NEED YOU NOW !

⌇＃GENRE ◠ ﹒ glee au + fluff + angst + love triangle + jake is a bad bf sry＃PAIRING ◠﹒jay x fem! reader x slight jake＃WARNINGS ◠﹒ermmm toxic relationship

Bathed in the soft glow of the stage lights, Y/N stood poised at the epicenter of McKinley High's Glee Club room, a lone figure ready to unravel the emotion-laden threads of her assignment.

That week, the theme was ‘love’. Most of the members sang of their respective relationships, which were relatively in good shape (for the most part). Despite all the drama that has woven itself into the lifestyle of the Glee Club, everyone was able to overcome their issues. Aside from two members.

Y/N let her eyes into the audience where the other club members sat patiently awaiting her performance.

The air seemed to be filled with the essence of Y/N’s entire existence, as if she were built to be on stage. In most ways she was. Most knew Y/N as the golden girl of the Glee Club, with each note she sang smoothly coming out of her velveteen esophagus with such an ineffable presence. Her notes were wrapped in the lace only replicable of a Broadway singer, weaved into the thread of her being.

“For my assignment this week, I’ve chosen to sing a song that I think describes love the way that I see it. Sometimes, it’s like a song, a beautiful harmony intertwined with moments of elation and joy. But other times, it’s bittersweet, filled with tender notes of affection and haunting pauses of uncertainty”. Her words came out as sharp jabs, quickly piercing their target who sat in the audience. Everyone knew what she was implying and who her statement was directed towards.

After all, dealing with issues through song was what made being in Glee so amazing.

Mr. Jeon, the club director, smiled at Y/N’s words. It seemed that any ulterior undertones to her words flew over his head. He never seemed to notice the all the drama that happened within the club, which was absurd considering all the backstabbing, cheating, and betrayal. “Alright Y/N, take it away!”

The girl looked over to the band that stood towards the back of the stage, and nodded her head to indicate that she was ready to sing. The band, though not officially apart of the Glee Club, was basically an extension of it with how often they would play instrumentals for the singers.

As soon as the first melody was played, the atmosphere in the room became blended with the feelings of the girl that stood on stage. Her silk, black dress reflected the emotions she held close to herself.

“Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor.”

Y/N’s eyes flitted over to Jake, who was looking back at her with an unreadable expression.

“Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore.”

The poignant strains of the song she chose to sing swirled around her; it was an ethereal dance that mirrored the intricate choreography of her heart.

“And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time.”

Jake, who had been her on-and-off boyfriend for the past two years, knew right away that she would be choosing a song that reflected their ‘relationship’. After all, he knew that it had been taunting her for the duration that they had been together (or not together). Jake's gaze became a silent spectator to the emotional tapestry she painted with her voice.

“It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.”

His eyes, a canvas of mixed emotions, flickered with both admiration and introspection, knowing that within the Y/N’s mind she was singing to him. In that moment, the unspoken complexity of their relationship played out in the nuances of his expression, a silent acknowledgment set to the rhythm of her performance.

“Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now.”

As she sang, her voice became a fragile vessel, carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. The lyrics, like fragments of a shattered love story, echoed through the auditorium, each note a delicate brushstroke on the canvas of shared experiences.

“And I don’t know how I could do without, I just need you now.”

However, a mysterious presence in the back cast an observant gaze upon Y/N. He never took his attentive eyes off of her figure, his focus unwavering from the girl in front of him. His fingers danced across the strings of his guitar, an intimate dialogue with the melody, as his eyes spoke the unuttered words of a secret yearning.

Jay, one of the guitarists in the band, felt his heart widen as he watched Y/N perform.

“Another shot of whisky, can’t stop looking at the door.”

In the sea of notes, Y/N's voice soared, unraveling the narrative of her unreliable love. The audience was captivated by her performance, but Jay's attention was undivided. He reveled in the ethereal cadence of her voice, each word she sang a poetic confession. The gentle chords he coaxed from his guitar wove seamlessly into the fabric of her song, a silent collaboration that transcended the mere strumming of strings.

“Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.”

The only reason Jay joined band, after all, was to be able to play in the background of Y/N’s life. His younger sister was in a Glee Club at a different school, which led him to support her at Show Choir Regionals the year prior. Although he didn’t realize that his own high school was performing there as well.

“And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time.”

Jay had seen Y/N sing ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’, and he swore it awoke something within him. It only took 3 minutes for Y/N to make him fall in love.

The only issue was that Jake never let her get too far. Y/N and Jake were known to be in a complicated relationship by the whole school, that despite his wavering feelings Jake wanted to keep Y/N at arms length at all times. Jay could see it even from afar. No matter how often she tried to get away, Jake was always there to keep her in his life.

But Jay loved her and he knew that. Each time the band had to help out Glee with their songs, he was ready to be there. He was too nervous to shy his way into Y/N’s life, so he resigned to just play in the background of her existence. She wouldn’t know his name nor that he was there, but he was.

As the instrumental in between verses began, Jay took his eyes off of Y/N for a second to follow her eyeline. Of course, she was already looking at Jake. Despite how much Jay wanted the other out of her life, he never seemed to leave.

“It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now. Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control and I need you now.”

Jay knew that silently pining over a girl in a toxic relationship was unhealthy for him. No matter how much his heart craved for her presence, he couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing he could say or do would pry Y/N off of Jake’s rough hands, because he had no significance into her life. All he could do was watch from the background, playing his guitar in support.

“And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.”

Jay wanted to send glares in Jake’s direction, but he held back. Unconsciously, his mind opted to keep his eyes trained on her. The desire that swirled around his dark orbs seemed to sing a song of a love that he burned so passionately for.

“Guess I rather hurt than feel nothing at all…” Y/N took a breath during the momentary break, letting herself look away from Jake for a bit. She felt her feelings running rampant through her chest, the melodies of her complicated love resonating within the walls of McKinley. “It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you now.”

The rest of the members listened to the emotion filled words of Y/N’s song, knowing that it was about her and Jake. Even Jake himself had that shallow understanding of it. But Jay, he knew that he understood the deeper poem that Y/N was reciting. The metaphors of her heart that she so brazenly sung out not only described her and Jake, but reflected how she viewed herself. The insecurities she felt, the doubts she had about the man in her life, were all laid out.

“And I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk and I need you now.”

As his fingers strummed against the perfectly polished metal, nothing was going through his mind at the time other than the fact that he wanted Y/N. So bad.

Her voice captivated him at first. But as time ticked by and he spent time observing her at school, Jay got to know Y/N on all levels. The way she carried herself with a confident stupor, the natural cadence of her voice that blended so well with the sounds of the earth, the way her aura filled up the entire room, Jay was in love with it all. He was so, deeply in love with her that it gave him a sharp pain within his body.

“And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.”

Y/N looked so beautiful there on stage. Her hair gleamed under the stage lights, and her face was illuminated by the passion she exemplified. Jay loved the way she dreamed so big, the way she wanted to become a Broadway star in New York, the way she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her and her aspirations. He could never be that passionate about something, and he admired that so much about her.

“I just need you now. Oh, baby, I need you now.”

As the final echoes of the performance lingered within the chambered walls, the air seemed charged with an unspoken tension. Y/N, unaware of the silent symphony playing in Jay's heart, took a humble bow. Her eyes still bore into Jake’s incomprehensible soul, knowing her mind hadn’t left the idea of him throughout her song. The applause from the audience reverberated, but she would never know that Jay's gaze lingered—a silent serenade that spoke volumes. She would never know that every note she whispered out had become a love letter etched in the air, and Jay, the keeper of silent melodies, yearned to compose the next chapter in the ballad of their lives.

His love for her ran so deeply that it was suffocating. Sometimes, he couldn’t breathe as he watched her. But there was no cure for that.

Jay knew that 10 years down the line, Y/N’s dreams of making it big would come true. She had her place on that Broadway stage reserved ever since the moment she had been placed into the intricate thread of the universe. There she would sing songs and relay stories she had practiced for so long, and her significant other would watch her from the front row. He would throw her roses at the end of the show and greet her with a congratulatory kiss. Jay wanted so desperately to be that person. But as time told the tale, he never would be as long as Jake was in the picture.

All he could do was strum his guitar in the background, and observe as Y/N’s heart stayed loyal to the one person who would never truly understand her. Jake didn’t understand the complexities that ran through Y/N’s soul.

Not the way Jay did.

authors note. first nari fic in a long time and it’s another glee au…. sorry i just love glee ughhhhhh rachel berry my love 4ever idc like they could never make me hate u queen!!!!

taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year ago

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Mm, Daddy Daddy

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Being a student is hard. For your Master's degree, you have to contend with classes, labs, and assignments in addition to feeding yourself. You're treading water coming into the end of the Spring Semester when your roommate tells you she is breaking her portion of your lease and moving in with her new fiancé. You're left at wit's end and you're not sure how you'll make ends meet. Until, that is, a friend and colleague suggests a website called icanbeyourbaby.com. You're not sure what you'll find there, but Jake Seresin is not it. He's everything you've ever dreamed of and more. But can you keep him despite the contract the website insists you draw up? Will this ever be more than a short-term business arrangement? You hope so. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Warnings: Reader gets paid for her companionship. This is a Sugar Daddy/ Sugar Baby agreement, after all. Word Count: 4354 Author Note: Hello, hello all you beautiful people! I'm insatiable and you only have @desert-fern to blame for putting this thought in my head. Fern, this one is for you! I hope you'll find yourself a Jake to entice you into studying and call you 'His Good Girl'! 🥰 😘 Also, the real ones know. The title for this fic comes from Sam Smith & Kim Petras - Unholy.

AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist

College sucks. You love learning, and you love being surrounded by so many different, amazingly talented people. What sucks is how expensive it is. Even with a scholarship, a roommate, and not one, but two full time jobs, you're just barely making ends meet. You've just gotten out of a double shift from hell when you walk into your apartment to see that Joanna, your roommate, has her boyfriend over. They're making out on the couch, and while you'd love to ignore them, you need to make yourself dinner and then write a ten page treatise on the effects of pollution on bivalves due tomorrow during your last class for your final grade.

Just as you're pulling your last Cup Noodles out of the microwave, making a mental note to buy more tomorrow, Joanna speaks up.

"Hey, Blue." She sounds nervous for some reason. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed to your room for the night."

"Hey, Jo!" You sound about as tired as you look. "What's up?"

"Well…. Austinproposedtomeandisaidyes." Her last words are too fast for your already stressed brain.

"One more time, Jo? Slowly?" You point to your head. "My brain's kinda fried and I didn't get any of that."

"I said, Austin proposed to me and I said yes." She's proffering her left hand out to you and you can't help your own squeal of glee as you examine the ring and congratulate her.

"Umm, you're the sweetest, you know that, Blue?" Why does she sound so sad when she’s telling you such nice things? "I hate to do this to you, but, um. Well, I'm moving in with Austin this weekend. Our landlady is letting me break my part of the lease, so the place is all yours."

You just congratulate her again, and watch as she and Austin retreat to her bedroom. When the apartment is quiet again, you begin to think. You dimly note how the fork in your hands goes clattering onto the countertop as you try to mentally catalog how many extra shifts you'll need to take to make your next month's rent payment and pay for classes at the same time. But no matter how you do the math, it doesn't add up. You'd need to work more hours than there are in the day and you still wouldn't have enough money.

It's a conundrum that continues to churn away in the back of your mind as you slurp down the cold noodles and finish writing your paper. You'll need another roommate, at the very least. But summer break has already begun, and you're not likely to find one. Los Angeles is expensive. You mull it over for weeks, even after Joanna moves out. It's your lab partner at the Marine Institute, a girl named Samantha, who suggests an unlikely idea which might just be the most likely solution.

"Create a profile on this site: icanbeyourbaby.com. It's a sugar daddy/sugar baby site. It's full of older men looking for companionship. I started it a couple of months ago and I don't have to worry about anything anymore." It's true. Sammie doesn't look stressed or tired anymore. Her clothes are all new. You thought she'd just gotten a great job, which is why you'd asked if her boss was hiring. You'd never have expected Sammie with her neon pink and yellow hair, piercings and tattoos to be a sugar baby.

You turn the thought over and over in your head, trying to puzzle another way out of your situation without going into prostitution or living in the campus library out of a duffle bag for the rest of the year. When nothing else comes to mind, you fill out a profile on icanbeyourbaby. You stay as true to yourself as you can, feeling heat in your face and ears at the extremely in depth questions about sexual experience and kinks. Finally, you add a selfie taken recently at a friend's birthday party and hit submit. The congratulations screen is so cheery that you almost immediately want to slam your laptop lid down and curl up under your blankets.

But you don't, because right as you try to, huge cheesy letters spell out "Congratulations, you got a match!" You're then routed into a chat window. You've been matched with a user called longhornlover, and when you click onto his profile, your jaw nearly drops out of its socket.

His name, when you read through the details, is Jake Seresin. He's a lawyer working for a law firm downtown. He's just turned 34, and you can't quote this enough, he "needs a pretty girl on his arm for galas, dinners and parties, who is intelligent and able to keep up a conversation". Is this guy for real? At least the age gap isn't too bad. He's only 11 years older than you. Money is apparently no object and when you've flipped back to the open chat window, he's already messaged you asking you to meet him for coffee.

You can't be blamed for saying yes, right? It's way too easy to sink into chatting with Jake on the app. He's more attentive than every man you've ever spoken to and he gives you butterflies every time he messages you good morning.

The day of your first date, you wear your best dress and walk out of your building, prepared to walk to the bus stop in order to make it to your date on time. You're definitely not expecting the shining blue Porsche idling on the street or the six-foot tall man leaning elegantly against the door. Jake's even more gorgeous in person.

You stammer all over yourself as you greet him and then allow him to help you into the car, and whisk you away. He takes you to a little coffee shop outside of the city. The hostess leads you to a secluded booth and hands you a menu that is a leather bound book with no prices anywhere on the pages. It's quiet as you order an iced coffee and hand the menu back over.

"So, Blue, can I call you that?" At your nod, he continues, "Why did you sign up? What made you consider being a sugar baby?"

"Oh, I, um. My roommate just moved out, I'm working two jobs and I don't know if I'll be able to make rent, my school fees or be able to feed myself now that she's not going to be able to split rent with me." Your voice is quiet, ashamed. You're asking a stranger for money, practically.

"You're in school, your profile said. What are you studying?" He glosses over your shame so easily. Rich people really do have different cares from ordinary people like you.

"I'm at the University of San Diego getting my Masters in Environmental and Ocean studies." At his inquiring glance you continue, elaborating on the program a little bit. You finish up just as your waitress drops off your coffee, twirling her manicured nails in her hair as she smiles fetchingly at Jake. It's very satisfying to see how he doesn't respond to her at all.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself." He takes a sip of his coffee. "So what are you hoping to get out of this arrangement?"

This is the question you've been asking yourself non-stop for the past few days.

"I'd like to not have to worry about whether I'll be able to eat if I pay my rent and tuition. Or if I'll be able to sleep at night if I work and still have assignments I need to complete." You sip on your coffee, praying that all of your nervous sweating hasn't exposed the raccoon circles permanently tattooed under your eyes. "W-what do you want out of this?"

"I want you to be healthy and happy. And, when I have a company party or event to attend, I want you on my arm, smiling and being just as gorgeous as you are right now." His voice is so soft that the butterflies swarm up your esophagus.

"I can do that. Um, what about, um, sex things?" Your voice drops down to a whisper as you say the last words, sinking into your chair while furtively glancing around to see if anyone heard you.

"That's all up to you. I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend and lavish a bunch of affection on you, including making you feel good. If that's something you're not comfortable with, then let me know." Jake's green eyes are glimmering with amusement as you stutter out your agreement.

Your eyes go even wider when he fishes an iPad out of his briefcase and pulls out a contract. He goes over every inch of it with you, making changes based on your comfort level, and then you both sign. That's how you became a sugar baby.

At the beginning it was all new and exciting. Jake deposited a quarter of a million dollars into your bank account the next morning, calling it your quarterly allowance. A part of you still doesn't believe that he's real. In the six months since that day, you've gone to no fewer than five parties, dressed to the nines in designer gowns with diamonds dripping off of your fingers, throat and wrists and been swanned around as Jake Seresin's girlfriend.

You love the kisses and possessive grip he has on your waist at those events. But you're at the point in your relationship, and it is a relationship - Jake had shredded the contract months ago, where you want more. You want the sleepovers at his penthouse downtown. You want him to call you his Good Girl and mean it as you bounce on his cock. So you take matters into your own hands. One Friday afternoon you let yourself into his penthouse, glad that at least you have the keys and don't need permission to do so. You set your bookbag down on the leather ottoman in the living room and pad into his bedroom.

Jake's bedroom is your favorite place in the entire apartment. It's all pale wood and glass. His bed sits against the sole wall, a plush pillowy California King that you love taking naps in. You walk into the gigantic walk-in closet and pull out one of his button-down shirts, a pale cream one that you love seeing on his golden skin. The fabric is rich and silky and most importantly, ever so slightly transparent. You strip off all of your clothes and swathe yourself in the silky shirt. The cool fabric has your nipples turning into firm points and as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know Jake's going to love seeing you in his clothes, too.

Then comes the next part of your plan. You settle down on the sofa with a throw over your lap and begin to study. Even though you have seduction on your mind, it's still finals season. Now, you wait. You're completely immersed in your Marine Law class when you hear the door open and Jake walks through the door. He's got a bag of groceries in one hand and his briefcase in the other.

"Hi, doll!" He sounds exhausted.

"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is soft as you wave at him from your blanket burrito on the couch.

"How was your day, baby?" He sounds exhausted. You answer him from the couch, barely noticing him until you feel a kiss press against the side of your head. It's Jake, now dressed in just a pair of sweats with damp hair.

"When did you shower?" You can't help the confusion in your voice as you rub at your eyes from behind the frames of your glasses.

"Twenty minutes ago, baby." You can feel the amusement in his voice. "What're you so immersed in, huh?"

"Marine law." You keep scanning the slides in front of you, ignoring how his hands are tracing across your shoulders.

"Y'know, baby doll, I am a lawyer. So you can ask me for help if you want?" You can feel your resolve flagging as he sets your laptop down, unwraps you slowly from the throw, and tugs you into his lap. His hands trail teasingly over the bar expanse of your thighs, pausing at the junction of your hips, caressing the soft bare skin there.

"What do we have here, Baby Blue?" His voice is deep and velvety as he rucks the shirt up a little, knuckles firm against your bare stomach.

"W-wanted to wear your shirt, Daddy." You can hear the rumble of his voice as he groans, trailing his fingers over your peaked nipples and back down to the apex of your thighs.

"And the rest of your clothes?" He's got a firm grip on each thigh, tugging them apart until your bare pussy is completely exposed.

"I-I took 'em off. Just wanted to be surrounded by your scent, Daddy." Your voice is a mewl as Jake massages teasingly over your clit, the barely there touches sending even more heat coiling through your veins.

"And you decided to be my good girl and study while you waited for Daddy to come home?" His calloused fingers pluck at your nipples with each word.

"Y-yes." Your chest is heaving, your mind going fuzzy and blank as Jake's - no - Daddy's hands rob you of all thought.

"You've been such a good girl, baby doll. D'you want your reward?" The fondness in Daddy's voice has you writhing as his hands open your tight walls up for him.

"Yes please, Daddy! Please!" He lifts you up with one thick forearm before working the sweats down to his knees. Now, you can feel Daddy's cock as it glides over your weeping hole as you wriggle in his lap.

"Come sit on this cock, Blue, baby." He punctuates the order with kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. You love when Daddy kisses you like this. You tug the constricting button down off, and carefully sink down onto his hard length. Daddy's cock is so big and thick that it nearly splits you apart. Each inch has your mouth open in a silent scream, and when he bottoms out, you're sweaty and exhausted. Your skin feels too tight and electric shocks are zipping across every inch that he touches.

Daddy takes pity on you, letting you quiet on his cock, feeling how your walls clench around his length as you settle back against his chest.

"God, look at you, baby Blue. So pretty, my good girl, impaled on Daddy's cock like that." Daddy's big hands cup your tits, and you shudder before melting further into his arms. After several moments, he leans forward, tugging your laptop back onto your lap. "Gotta make sure my good girl is comfy. That she knows daddy is here for her always. Now, you sit here and study. If you're good, I'll fuck you until you scream later."

You're already so wet and aching for Daddy, that it'll be sweet torture to spend so long impaled on his length. His cock is pressing up against all the parts that make you see stars. But you're Daddy's good girl. So you do what he says. The first few pages, you're completely distracted, wriggling around in Daddy's lap, wanting more stimulation. But eventually you fall into a flow state, Daddy's presence comforting.

You lose time. You must, because it's dark when the laptop closes and Daddy peppers kisses across your exposed shoulders. You're still impaled on his length, each thick inch pressing against your walls in the perfect way. You're slow to respond to the teasing caresses, nuzzling against the palm of Daddy's hand sweetly.

"Aww, baby Blue. You're so good for me, doll." Daddy's voice sounds so fond and it makes a small part of you light up. His praise and gentle words make you feel even better than his cock buried in you. When he lifts you off of his length, you sob at the empty feeling, weeping cunt clenching on nothing where it had once been wrapped around Daddy.

Before you can blink, you're splayed out on your back on Daddy's comfy leather sofa. He's crouched between your legs, gazing raptly at your heat as he pets across your hips and lower belly in slow soothing strokes.

"D-daddy?" Your voice is tiny, as you try to swivel and nudge your hips closer to him.

"Yeah, baby doll?" Daddy punctuates his words with kisses against your inner thighs and your mound. Your mind whites out a bit at the pressure as he flattens his tongue over your fluttering, wet slit. His voice is smug as he continues, "D'you want something from Daddy, baby?"

You don't get the chance to respond, though. Between one breath and the next, you're being treated like a steak dinner placed before a starving man. Daddy feels like he's everywhere. His mouth and fingers devour you whole. Your entire body feels like a live wire, warring sensations dancing like electric currents across your skin as the band in your gut winds tighter and tighter. It feels like you're on a tightrope, dangling over a cliff.

Each heaving breath feels like too much and yet not enough oxygen is entering your lungs. You're begging and babbling, tugging on Daddy's hair in graceless sweeping motions as your mind forgets how to move or do anything than be at Daddy's pleasure. It's when Daddy growls against your cunt that you cum, screaming his name as your muscles lock with the force of your orgasm.

When you come back to yourself, it's on the cool satin sheets of Daddy's big bed. You feel wrung out and exhausted, mind floaty even as your limbs struggle to cooperate. You've just managed to sit up when Daddy wanders in, holding a condensation covered glass in his big hand. You make grabby hands for him, smiling as he drags you against his chest as you sip on the cool juice in the glass.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You nuzzle in closer, sleepily peppering kisses across his chest.

"Feel good, Daddy. Y'always make me feel good." The kiss Daddy presses against your lips consumes you body and soul. It takes several moments before you collect your frayed strands of thought.

"B-but, what about you, daddy? Did you cum?" Your voice is soft as you take his length in your hand.

"No, Blue, baby." His breathing hitches with each pass of your hand as you work his length in your fist. "But you don't have ta'...... Ahh!"

Each stuttering breath makes your smile just a little wider. Daddy's so pretty, his tawny mane of hair spread out against the pillow as a flush spreads across his chest. His big hand is curled around your bare hip as you slowly pump his length.

"Doll, are you just going to tease me all night?" His voice is so fond as he tugs you close.

"No, Daddy." You melt into his chest as he kisses you. Each long slow slide of his tongue plundering your mouth has you pressing yourself closer. You kiss your daddy slowly, losing yourself to the touch.

"D'you want something baby?" There are big hands on your hips, stalling every movement as you try and fail to search for friction.

"Blue!" He's laughing now, peppering kisses across your pouting face as you fight to eke some pleasure out for yourself. But no matter what you do, you don't move.

"What're you searching for, huh, baby?" You growl as a result, stilling your hips as you suck kisses down his throat. You relish in the moans pouring out of Daddy's throat, brattily ignoring the teasing path of his hands across your lower stomach and breasts.

It's the sharp sting of a hand on your ass that has you squeaking and your mouth parting from the hickey you'd been leaving on Daddy's neck.

"Oh, baby. Did that sting?" As Daddy's big hands rub over your aching ass, you arch your back and try to nuzzle closer. But all that does is bring your bare skin closer to his mouth. The first wet press of his tongue to your peaked nipples has you moaning. You're so occupied by the dual sensations of the hands kneading your ass and the wet insistent suction of Daddy's mouth on your tits that you barely notice the pinching insistent pressure as Daddy's dick presses into you.

When Daddy finally bottoms out, you're already a drooling mess. This sugar baby arrangement is the best decision you've ever made. Daddy's a million times better than your first fumbling sexual experience in your prom date's pickup. His thick hard length in you has your pussy fluttering and already has you on the edge of an orgasm. When you're tipped onto your back in the sheets and Daddy starts to move, you're completely at his mercy.

Each thrust has you taking Daddy from root to tip. The entire room is filled with the lewd slapping of sweat-slippery skin against skin. Your breaths are punched out gasps as Daddy draws your legs up to his shoulders, holding them securely against his chest with one thick forearm as the other presses insistently against your engorged clit. Each brush of his calloused fingers coats them in your wetness and tips you even further towards your orgasm. You're babbling, hardly able to keep eye contact with the piercing, intent gaze Daddy's leveling on your sweat slicked skin. You cum with a scream, back arching off the bed.

"Aww, Blue, baby. Look at you! Fucked dumb on Daddy's thick hard cock." Daddy sets your legs back down as he pulls out of you and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest.

"You're going to be good, right Baby?" You're grinding your ass back against Daddy's ass unconsciously even as Daddy wraps a hand around your throat. You love having Daddy all over you like this. Even though you just came, you can't help wanting more. He uses the extra leverage to kiss your slack mouth until a thread of saliva stretches between your mouths.

"Daddy's gonna fuck your wet little pussy just like this with a hand around this little throat until you gush for me." His voice slows to a hiss as he teasingly runs his finger through your sensitive folds. "And you, baby. You're going to tell your daddy exactly how good he feels in that pretty little pussy."

You're nodding frantically, but that's not enough for Daddy. He smacks your pussy, tapping it until you're writhing against the steel hold he's got around your waist.

"Y-yes, Daddy! Yes! I can do that!" Your voice is a high pitched keen as you sob your relief at having Daddy buried inside you again.

He starts off slow, keeping the pace teasing as he pulls out of you until just the tip is sheathed and burying himself in you over and over again. Your hands are grasping onto his arms with all your strength, as you let Daddy chase his pleasure in you. His hand is firm against your throat, the pressure making you lightheaded and the sensations setting your blood aflame. With each slap of his hips against your ass you're telling him how good he feels. He's so big and thick you can't help it.

"Blue, baby." Daddy's voice is a purring growl which has your pussy dripping even wetter as your third orgasm builds. This one is going to be even harder than the last one. His hands pinch and tug at the heavy swell of your tits as they bounce with each thrust. "Cum for me, pretty baby. C'mon. You can do it. Cum for daddy."

"Yes, Daddy. Right there! M'so close. Wanna cum on your cock. Please. Please. Please. Please." You're still babbling for permission when Daddy's hands slide down to your clit and massage on the bud in time with his thrusts. When you come, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. You see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm builds and crests, seeming to never end. You vacantly feel Daddy empty himself in your sopping cunt, but that's it.

When you wake up, it's in the big bathtub in the master ensuite. There are hands carefully massaging shampoo into your hair and the water is steaming in the quiet night air. There's a deep relaxation weighing your muscles and bones as you blink yourself awake.

"Hey, Blue. How d'you feel?" It's Dadd- no, Jake, who's making you feel good.

"I feel so good, Jake." You kiss his wrist before turning so you can kiss him. He hefts you into his arms, not caring in the slightest that you're dripping soap and water all over his floor.

"You're back up, huh, baby?" At your nod, he kisses you before continuing. "I know you told me you've never been so far down before. And it definitely wasn't discussed. Was that okay, for you?" He sounds so worried as he sits on the tile with you dripping all over him.

"I'm perfect, Jakey. Perfect. It was everything I needed and more. If you liked it, I'd love to be your Baby Blue again?" You hope he'll agree. You love being Daddy's baby and brat.

"Absolutely, you can. But for the rest of tonight, how about we curl up on the sofa? I made some pasta and garlic bread." He grins at your nod before joining you in the tub again. This? You wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.

"Hey, Blue?" He sounds sated and sleepy.

"Yeah, Jake?" You cuddle closer to him and kiss his skin.

"Move in with me?" He sounds nervous. Like you’d reject him? After everything you’ve built a relationship with him? Not possible. You can’t believe what he’s asking you. You can’t even pretend to think about it. Your mouth runs away before your brain even processes the words screaming, "YES!" while you kiss him until he’s breathless again. This man? You’re going to keep him forever.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @roostette 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @genius2050 🥰

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman smut #reader insert #smut #Spotify

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direwolfrules · 8 months ago

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EAH Glee AU

I do not have time right now to work on my actual writing- midterms are done so now we're just jumping right into final papers- but have an AU outline post.

Professor Pied Piper, taking inspiration from some of his best high school memories, gets Headmaster Grimm to reinstate the school glee club.

Meanwhile, Madame Baba Yaga fears the new activity will steal away talent from her prize cheer-hexing team, the Ever After High Cheerios (I can’t think of a good fairytale-ification for this, I will accept suggestions). To rectify this situation, she sends in three of her girls undercover with the goal of sabotaging the glee club.

Basically, Pied Piper is Will Schuester, Baba Yaga is Sue Sylvester, and chaos ensues.

Glee Club Members:

Apple White: She joined because 1) she's good at singing 2) she genuinely enjoys singing 3) her mom was in the Glee Club and led them to winning Nationals. I'd say she's the Rachel Berry or the Quinn Fabray, but I'm not gonna do that thing where I entirely change a character's personality to make them fit into the role of another character...for the students anyway. Look, Apple's got enough drama in her life, she doesn't need me making her crazy enough to send someone to a crack house out of jealousy.

Raven: Uh, in the books Headmaster Grimm won't let her take Muse-ic because it's not an evil class. Luckily, because of a bizarre loophole in the school guidelines for competitive teams, Headmaster Grimm can't ban her from Glee Club. Everyone say thank you Giles.

Daring: He joined because he was told it would give him extra credit for the serenading skills portion of Advanced Wooing. Also, Apple asked him to join because they didn't have enough boys in the club and Daring's been trained to never ignore a request from a damsel.

Dexter: He’s there cause Raven’s there? And also cause he is a genuinely great singer and unlike Daring needs the Advanced Wooing extra credit? Also, I just kinda want him there.

Darling: Her mom made her join. Queen Charming really said “I’m gonna take a page from Snow White’s book and live vicariously through you, offspring of mine”.

Briar: She really likes the idea of a team competition where she won’t put her teammates in danger if she falls asleep. Also, she checked the competition rulebook, as long as they don’t all leave the stage when she has a narcoleptic episode they won’t be disqualified.

Humphrey: Every Glee AU needs a white-boy-who raps and Ever After High has one already built-in in the form of Humphrey Dumpty.

Maddie: She’s there cause Raven’s there. It’s utterly hattastic!

Kitty: She’s there because she remembered her mom talking about how some of her fondest memories of high school revolves around messing with the glee club, and Kitty wants dearly to be like her mother.

Lizzie: We’re completing the Wonderland ensemble. Lizzie joins because she needs an extra curricular and the Invisible Tree Situation has gotten so out of hand they had to disband the croquet team. Great voice, ngl.

Justine: Not the strongest singer in the room, but she’s capable of choreographing numbers like nobody’s business.

Meeshell: Listen, canon’s pretending her singing in that webisode was something amazing. So like, we’re pretending now too.

Duchess: I picture her as a Sugar Motta-type character. Cannot sing, massive diva, but they gotta put up with her cause her family’s donating to the club budget.

Melody: Listen, it’s her dad’s club. She can’t just not join. She’s banking those supportive daughter points for a rainy day.

Lawrence Bonecrusher III: Listen, I just it'd be funny if Professor Piper says the ever-insane "You're all minorities, you're in the glee club" line and there's the one orc student in the school just sitting there with his eyebrow raised. He's also the Matt of this AU. For some reason never speaks when in a scene.

Faybelle: Captain of the Cheerios, totally not here as part of a scheme by Madame Yaga to DESTROY THE GLEE CLUB!!!!

Nah, but seriously, this whole AU was born of me going "What EAH character would say the iconic 'I'm a closeted lesbian and a judgemental bitch' line?" and her face popped into my mind.

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cdragons · 1 year ago

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Procesión de la Muerte (Procession of the Dead) - Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader Halloween Oneshot

Pairings: Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader, Druig x Kaetlyn Word Count: over 4.0k Summary: How a wife's love for her emo-pacifist mind-controller husband accidentally created a centuries old legend of the Amazon Rainforest, ended up bringing to light one of the most sacred and honored celebrated traditions in South and Central America. Warning(s): Words that are bold and italisized indicate spoken in another language bc I can't speak nor write Spanish & don't want to offend anyone by using Google Translate, Angst, mention of death & genocide & war (fun stuff y'all), mentions of depression and PTSD, slight mention of blood, necromancy practices, probably really inaccurate descriptions of magic and magical practices, Kaet is seriously so gone for Druig (i fucking love these two dorks), Cerberus is the goodest boi,

Notes: Yes, I know that Halloween has technically passed, but I had midterms and projects during the time so I'm using the rest of the season as a Free Fall fics pass until December. So this oneshot was beta read by the ever-so lovely @ethereal-athalia, who has so graciously sacrificed herself agreed to beta read all of my fics for the upcoming future while my usual beta reader @valeskafics, is currently really busy with law school until the foreseeable future! Even so, please go visit her blog because she is one of the best writers on Tumblr, especially if you are a fan of Ewan Mitchell, and the HOTD/GOT universe! If you have read any of my past works, you know that my girl @ethereal-athalia is pretty much the co-parent of this Eternals AU idea, and I absolutely love sharing ideas with her, and making connections to make these fics more interesting. Anyway, please be kind and enjoy!

There was an energy that encompassed the autumnal season’s high holiday that made its ancient magic so enchanting and powerful. It was a time known across practitioners of the mystic arts of any field that autumn was a season known more than for its abundance and harvest. It was a time of transformation, of when summer’s green fertility gave way to winter’s bleak barrenness. It was when the veil between the physical and spiritual planes was at its thinnest. A time in which both magic practitioners and mundane were able to catch the slightest glimpse to the other side. This was the time where magic was at its peak, and it was all because of you- his love; his wife; his angel of shadow & death who was also his harbinger of light & life.

Although the environment of his home rarely changes throughout the year, Druig still felt the unmistakable chills that danced on his bare skin that came with transition from summer to autumn, and from there approached winter’s foreshadowing. Despite the abandonment of summer’s warmth, the mind-controller Eternal was often teased by you for being considered an avid enthusiast for the unforgiving seasons by the standards of their family. However, it was Samhain that made your husband greet the year’s end with such glee. Furthermore, it was a day that would forever be etched into the bareness of his being by the testaments of your love and devotion towards him. Each act from you followed from an event that harrowed him.

But the only way to best understand was by starting at the beginning.

It was no secret that you worked best at night with the only witnesses to your work being the moon and stars. Although you adored the bustling livelihood that thrived in the village you and your husband created, there was something about the darkness and solitude of the night that made Kaetlyn feel more connected to her magic than the garish light of day could ever dream to accomplish. It was common for Kaetlyn would burn the midnight oil conducting experiments and immerse herself in research to secrets that still remained a mystery to her – even after 7000 years of existence.

Meanwhile, Druig would fall into a deep state that vaguely resembled a still corpse if it were not for the subtle rising and falling of his chest in tandem with his breathing. When the lily-pale mind-controller fell asleep, there was little that could get him up from his slumber. Too many times Ajak had lectured him for how late he would sleep into the day – not to mention the staggering occurrences in which he would accidentally sleep through a natural catastrophe. It became commonplace for their former leader to ask his lover to awaken him in the most compromising acts. It was inconvenient, but it got the job done.

But since the couple separated from their family as a result of witnessing the fall and horrific genocide of the once glorious Aztec civilization centered around Tenochtitlan from the Spanish Conquistadors, there would be nights where Druig would be unable to fall asleep. It did not matter what he would do in attempt to tire him, his memory of fire and screams plagued his mind in an endless cycle of misery and devastation. It did not matter that he prevented further bloodshed by taking over the minds of the humans; it mattered even less when he and his angel led the horde of mortals south from the ruins to the land that they now call home. Sleep always evaded the somber Eternal, and whatever sleep he managed to get would be afflicted by memories turned nightmares of the horrors he had been forced to witness as a bystander to humanity’s cruelty by orders of their former leader.

The sight of your dearest in such agony tore your heart in the most brutal manner. Although you had also been long tormented by watching 7000 years of destruction, your heart had been hardened as a consequence to the multitude of deaths that you had to personally oversaw as a physician and a fighter. While you still carried hope for mankind, most of the naïve idealist dreams expired with time. However, this was not the case for Druig. You knew more than anyone that the strength of your lover’s will was overshadowed by the tenderness in his heart for those weaker than him and his family. It was that persisting quality of the beautiful mind-controller that drew the impulsive shadow wielder into his orbit, and eventually what caused such enduring steadfastness from your part.

It was not without tremendous effort from his wife’s part to get the immortal insomniac to get some rest. But all of your efforts were wasted on her part. Every night you would lead Druig to your shared bed, and whisper sweet words of comfort, as well as voicing your desperate pleas for him to finally rest. You would carefully stroke the firm lines of his frame with the tender touch of her fingertips, quickly finding areas of taut muscle to knead away any knots with your skillful hands. You had created countless versions of sleeping draughts that would calm his mind, and thousands of potions that would prevent him from dreams. But memories held more power than dreams, and so all of your efforts were met with the continued grief of your beloved.

Not being able to bear the sight of Druig’s turmoil, you decided to take further action. With your talents in the arcane, you designed a complex ritual that could only be completed at a grand scale- one that would take over an entire continent. It involved a form of magic that took up so much power and energy, it was only to be used as a last resort in any form of situation- necromancy. A magic that was only possible in theory, its crudest form was born before the outermost Walls of Babylon had yet to be constructed. You were approached by a shaman that was outcasted by her tribe when her husband discovered that she had been sacrificing their livestock to Ereshikigal, the Mesopotamian Queen of the Dead that ruled the Underworld. The woman had thought the Eternal to be the goddess herself, and begged you to allow the woman to see her late son that died in a raid.

Replying with only that her son was in peace in the higher dome in the heavens, you advised the shaman to return to her husband and perform a cleansing ritual to purify their home from the anger of the murdered animals. However, the shaman only pressed further, blurting out that the spirit of her son had been calling out to her in dreams. She revealed that she would stop until her son was at peace in the arms of Anu in An. Against you better judgement, you allowed yourself to be swayed by the mother’s grief, telling her that she would try her best to guide her son to the heavens so that he may rest in peace, but there would be no guarantee of success. After the woman gave her thanks by kneeling to the ground in a deep bow, you set off to work.

The Eternal spent months scouring over texts that theorized the use of magic manifestation, and detailed dreams of the dead rising. You recruited Makkari to search for more artifacts and texts in efforts to make the poor woman’s request a reality, a favor the silent speedster was more than happy to fulfill. It was only when winter was soon to be upon them that you were able to summon enough energy to prepare the ritual. Tracing a circle into the earth to serve as a temporary portal to the spiritual realm, the Eternal carved in the symbols that would allow you to put greater focus into directing the energy in the circle to attract the spirit’s energies before trapping it within its boundaries. From there, you would use the symbols that you painted on your skin to allow the magic around you to deconstruct the spirit’s current form into unbound electromagnetic particles, before reconstructing the matter into a more visible form. This flow of energy and change in the state of matter could only be achieved by physically placing your hands in the center of the circle. Using a mixture of your blood and the mother’s as a medium for the spirit to bind to so that there would not be such a large gap in the energy needed to activate the spell, it was finally complete.

It should have not have come as a surprise to her when she lost consciousness towards the end of the ritual. The raw power that connected her body to the earth felt as if liquid fire was coursing through her veins. The painted symbols became carvings as they dug into her body with searing pain as blood poured from the wounds. And though her body collapsed and she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open, Kaet knew that she was successful. As she laid on the ground, two words belonged to a young man’s voice echoed in her ear.

“Thank you.”

And from a budding magical practitioner’s too soft heart, came forth the rawest and crudest form of one of the most innately unstable and powerful fields of magic- necromancy.

From that day, the symbols took permanent residence on your skin, along with the ability to see the dead that were tied to the physical world, unable to move on for whatever reason. And although you adored your newfound power, Druig made you promise to never commit such acts on your own ever again. The ancient witch was met with screams of panic from Sersi when she and Sephia ventured out in search for you after seeing that you had not been in your room that morning. The site of you lying in a pool of your own blood with unfamiliar symbols etched into your skin was haunting to say the least.

The risk of your husband staring at you with glaring disappointment and furious worry was one worth taking if it meant that he could finally allow himself to rest. It took years of careful preparation; painfully precise attention to detail and timing; and endless travels across the globe to scour for masters in various fields of magic that specialized in divination, transformation, and theology. After nearly 10 years, when the veils between the two worlds finally overlapped for magic to reach its peak- along with the aid provided by the appearance in the hare moon’s rarity (when the earth was in perfect alignment with the Sun and Moon)- you knew that there was no time better than now.

That night, you sent out your shadows to search for any souls from the same genocide that haunted her beloved, and if they were in a state of unrest. You handed the village’s Head Weaver a small leather bag filled with ebony wood beads strung together and red string. While you hated to keep secrets from Druig, you knew that he would be able to sense the shift in the energies that surrounded them if you were successful. When the preparations were finally completed and your oldest shadow informed you of the location of the ritual, you left the bracelet that the Weaver finished – enchanted with spell that would be activated the same time of the ritual – on your pillow of their bed as you laid a tender kiss on his brow before setting off with only Cerberus by your side.

When Druig rose from his slumber – still wrought with gunpowder and fire – he instinctually reached for his wife, only for his fingers to feel a smooth, rounded texture. Opening his eyes, he noticed that your pillow was cold, but showed signs being slept in from the previous night. While such a sight would cause a much more panicked reaction from the man, he was comforted by the small note that laid carefully next to his gift. Picking up the parchment, a sense of calm washed over Druig as he took in the notes of jasmine and myrrh that come from your natural parfum.

Contents of Letter Below it:

My dearest Beloved,

I am sure that my absence from our bed must have been a rather awful shock to you. Please know that I am more than well, and have only been informed of unusual occurrences full of malicious whispers and daunting sights. And as much as I adore our home and your company, you know more than anyone of how my curiosity cannot be satisfied with only rumors and tales. No, I decided that it would be best to see it with my very own eyes. And although it would bring me nothing but joy to have you by my side, I could not bear wake you from your slumber. Rest suits my love, and it has been decades since you have slept so fitfully. Your dreams have been a constant source of your misery, and I do believe that this area may hold some promise to show me of how to ease your mind.

Rest assured my darling that I have travelled alone in my endeavors, I would never be so careless as to travel so far from you without the company of our sweet boy. Do not dare tell another soul of this, but I believe that the trek will do our boy some good. He has grown very lazy as a result of your spoiling. Yes, your spoiling, Druig- all coddling of Cerbie has been solely enacted by you, and none whatsoever committed by me. Do not dare attempt to argue this matter with me, for I would deny it till my final breath (and you know how stubborn I can be).

What did you think of my gift? During one of my many wanderings in the woods surrounding our home, I spied a dying tree with jet-black lumber. It stood in solitude from its thicket, but that only made its splendor even more enchanting, so much so that it reminded me of you. I used one of its branches to make some wooden beads, and asked for some leather to bind them. Please make sure that you wear them at all times, as they’ll reveal a little secret that will be revealed to you on the night of the full moon that will be arriving soon.

All of my love for you and your heart,

Kaetlyn

Despite the overall lack of sleep over the years, all of Druig’s anxiety seemed to wash away at your thoughtfulness. The bracelet was very elegant in its simplicity, but he could tell that it was made to last for lifetimes. Placing it on his wrist, a blanket of subtle warmth washed over him as he admired the little symbols carved into the wood. Tracing his finger over the design, he certified them to match that were etched into his angel’s lovely form. He would recognize the markings anywhere; it would be shameful if he didn’t after spending hours tracing their outline with his tongue. The knowledge that the full moon’s rising would begin tomorrow, and last for around 2-3 days. Relieved that he would not be without the company of his love for very long, Druig prepared himself for another day in protecting the compound and the humans that reside within its boundaries.

After you managed to track down the location of the largest gathering of souls, you set off preparations for the ritual immediately. A ceremony of this magnitude would shift the energies between the two worlds for the rest of eternity, so it was imperative that there would be no mistakes. Sephia already had instructions of ensuring that pathways that followed the ley lines in her journey would remain clear of any natural obstacles. It seemed too perfect that the fall of such a grand civilization that met its end with war and genocide would be at the center of such innate hidden supernatural energy. Tracing the circle around the entire city, you sat at the top of the very same temple where she and Druig had last seen the others. As the time of the moon’s rising grew shorter, you could feel the power felt only like a whisper gradually grow into a rumbling growl. You could hear the spirits that surrounded her being pulled toward inside the circle.

Wrath

Grief

Betrayal

Woe

Pain- so much pain

But they would all be at peace in the end.

Before long, twilight passed and dusk had come and the stars glittered in the endless expanse of the darkness. But all had paled in comparison to the illustrious light of the moon. Every month during the full moon, you and your husband would spend the nights locked in each other’s embrace, frozen in their admiration of its ivory glow and taking in their heightened emotional energies.

You wondered it was natural to feel so much pleasure from the power that came from being bathed in the blood red rays that came from the rare eclipse. Cerberus watched in silent obedience, not daring to move in fear of disrupting his mother’s spell, and thus ruining all of her work.

As the moon’s shadow hit the circle, the outermost boundary began to glow. As the celestial body inched across the sky, the faint howls echoed until it ascended into a deafening roar. When the moon reached it apex – directly in the center of the circle – the symbols engraved to her skin glowed while the ground beneath her feet rumbled and sang as her body collapsed from the overwhelming pressure. You could faintly hear your beloved hound’s frantic barking in the distance, trying to scare away all and any threat that came to his mother and savior. But soon they lessened into panicked whimpers at the sight of the millions of forms that were appearing before his very eyes.

In a village far away, a certain brunette’s enchanted bracelet’s beads with identical scores began to hum and glow against the lily-petal pallor on his wrist.

Before the power could tear you apart, the moon passed the circle’s boundaries, and it borders and symbols no longer sang and glowed. And when you lifted yourself with as much strength she had, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over her your as tears streamed from your eyes from the overwhelming joy that flooded your heart.

“I’m sorry for the pain you’ve had to endure for so long, but I’m happy to tell you that it will not be for much longer.”

While normally Druig wouldn’t need to be so intensely involved in matters of the village, it allowed his mind distracted him from missing his wife enough to just through the day. In any case, the earthquake from last night frightened the residents of the compound with how close they were to winter. The days were getting shorter, and this meant that they needed to prepare for the harshness that would come for their crops, their families, and eventually their way of life. Multiple people came up to Druig to ask if last night’s earthquake was a sign of larger disaster brought by the gods. While he did his best to placate their concerns, the patience he had was wearing thin. Luckily Sephia managed to intercept their line of questioning before he would lose his temper, and he was able to take a short rest.

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar barking in the distance that immediately caught his attention. Dashing out the hut he shared with you, he saw Cerberus sitting on his hind legs as his little tail wagged in glee and the little taps echoed in his ears.

“Cerberus,” he exclaimed in joy as he gathered the black Doberman in his arms, “where have you been? Where’s your mum?”

At the mention of his Mum, Cerberus immediately began tugging on his Da’s dark blue robe. While it wasn’t enough to cause any tear or inspire any panic, it did tell the man enough information to know that something or someone was coming- and it would be best that Druig gave his entire attention over it. Following his wife’s hound over to commune’s outermost edge, he was only met with the familiar chirps and song of the forest. A few minutes passed by and Cerberus remained still, as if he were just waiting for something great.

Suddenly, the fine hairs across Druig’s body stood up straight as an overwhelming presence of otherworldly beings began to approach close to where he and Cerberus stood. Sensing that they were no longer alone, the hound starting howling to the moon that hung above them. Running toward the strange energy, Druig watched in awed rapture at the figure that stood front center with familiar designs that glowed gold down their arms, leading the army of apparitions with a singular torch. Recognizing the haunting designs, Druig was engulfed in frozen wonder at the army that you managed to summon, and the control and strain your body had to endure to stage such a feat.

When the two ancient lovers reached one another, with only pockets of space between their bodies, Druig launched himself to embrace his angel. Gladly reciprocating the act, you made sure that the torch you were holding remained in the air as you let yourself be enveloped in the security of your husband’s arms while taking in the sweet smell of his sweat.

“I should have known that little rumble was from you,” he whispered while laying small and frequent kisses across her neck, “nothin’ you do can ever be done halfway, can it?”

“Never,” she whispered back, “are you ready for my surprise?”

You stepped aside so that her husband could truly understood what you had done. Although Druig was initially upset by the loss of warmth that came from you leaving his embrace, he stopped and stared at the sight ahead of him.

Hundreds of thousands of specters that held a pearly blue glow that went as far out as his eyes could take him. But instead of fear, Druig felt…warm, and strangely…at peace. Taking a step closer, he slowly reached out his hand as a way to ask for permission. The nearest spirit was that of a child, going no higher than his knee, eagerly taking his hand before a wide smile overtook his face.

“Hello Mister Druig, it has been so long.”

Eyes wide in shock, Druig turned his head to stare at his wife in disbelief.

It couldn’t be…it shouldn’t be possible. Then again, you always took the label “impossible” as just a simple label.

As Druig turned back to stare at vision before him, familiar faces that he thought were forever gone flooded his sight.

Before him were all the souls that were lost so young at the fall of Tenochtitlan over 10 years ago.

You did this…you brought them all back. As his body failed to support him in shock, all Druig could do was openly weep in joy at the knowledge that his love- his wonderful, incredible, truly magnificent marvel of a woman- risked everything so that these people could have just the slightest chance of closure and peace.

Taking your husband’s frame in your arms, you softly turned him until he could face you.

“Do you think there might be some space in our home for our guests, my dearest?” You asked with bright eyes and youthful mirth as you knew full-well his answer.

Druig could only let out a wet laugh – his tears hadn’t stopped, but he never felt so at peace and happy for so long.

“Kaet my darling,” he started, “nothing would give me more pleasure.”

500 Years Later

‘The Procession of the Dead had been a tale that has been passed down by the many indigenous tribes located in the Amazonian Rainforest for over twenty generations. They say that the first procession began as an act of mercy from Mictecacihuatl, who was known as the “lady of the dead.” Legends state that it was Mictecacihuatl who summoned the spirits of tormented souls, and led them on a journey across the Amazon rainforest so that the souls may find fulfillment and peace in order to move on to the afterlife. The earliest record of the procession stated that the procession began with a ritual of a cursed city, followed by a powerful earthquake. But it was granted by the Guardians of the Forest, as the trees and rocks cleared the path in order to make the journey easier for the merciful goddess. Although there have been multiple cases of alleged sightings of the legend even now, many of the tribes that still reside in the forest celebrate October 31st as the day where the dead would find peace in the physical world, before finally finding peace in their next life. It is for that reason that multiple towns in countries of South America will build a straw monument of Mictecacihuatl holding a burning torch, so that the spirits of the lost was make the journey for peace.’

A small boy with large aquamarine eyes and patiently sat in front of a large easel in his art room, gleefully listening to his favorite educational podcast. He loved to listen to the origins of how his birthday started out, even if he wasn’t there when it started.

“Hamish,” he heard his Da call out, “you wanna get ready so that we can make it to your Tio Phastos’ house in Chicago to meet with everyone! It’s rude for the birthday boy to arrive last!”

Making the finishing touches to the canvas, Hamish silently grabbed his Mimikyu costume from his bedpost before racing down the stairs. He couldn’t wait to show his Mami his painting when they got back tomorrow, she was going to love it!

I hope you enjoyed reading this fic! Please drop a like if you did enjoy it, and also a reblog or comment if you look forward to reading more!

Tagging: @valeskafics, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @its-actually-minicika, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @asa-do-your-thing, @3vergr3en, @themeanestlittlewitch, @sunphyre, @karimac, @hypnoticmistake, @tacorice, @angelnyx, @heliosphere8, @deanthomaswhore, @vikingqueen28, @getawaycardotmp3, @spacetalbot, @siempre-bucky, @diaryofapillowprincess, @littledoveofchaos, @snowprincesa1, @prettyvintageafternoon

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#marvel eternals #marvel x reader #druig x reader #eternals x reader #druig imagine #divider #druig x oc #druig x eternal!reader #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig fanfiction #halloween #halloween is a lifestyle #at least until december #halloween fic #fall fic

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