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ladyeyrewrites · 1 month ago

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Feelings Hurled Like Hand Grenades

Read from Chapter One

Rated M

4893 words

Chapter Seven: Slivers of His Old Selves

Evan paced the length of their hotel room. “What if they don’t like me?” he asked. While he hadn’t gone the “full Mikey” and worn a suit, he was wearing a blue button down and a nice pair of slacks. It was kind of like Evan was trying to emulate Bobby’s dress sense – all inoffensively midwestern – which was endearing.

“They’ll probably like you more than they like me,” said Tommy. He sat on the bed to pull on his shoes. Evan had talked him out of wearing his usually boots in favour of a softer pair of tennis shoes.

“Do I look okay?” Evan asked. “It’s not too casual?” He gave a little spin for Tommy’s appraisal, which was absolutely adorable and made Tommy and to wrap himself around Evan and never let go. Only that would probably lead to activities that were counter to their goal of meeting with Tommy’s brothers on time.

“They’re just a couple of dudes, Evan,” said Tommy, tightening his laces. His sneakers felt strange on his feet, too light and too snug, but he supposed they were better than the dress shoes which he’d negotiated Evan down from packing. “It’s sweet how nervous you are though.”

Evan stopped pacing and looked down at Tommy. “I just don’t want to be the reason this doesn’t work out for you,” he said.

“Pretty sure that would be on my brothers and not on you,” said Tommy. “And just in case you’re having a little spiral in there,” Tommy stood and tapped the centre of Evan’s forehead gently, “I’ll choose you over my brothers any day.”

“But they’re your family,” said Evan, though his eyes were wide with wonder.

Read the rest on Ao3 or below the cut

“So are you,” said Tommy. “You’re the family I chose; they’re just guys I happen to be related to.” He managed to say it flippantly, as though the thought of coming this close to having his brothers in his life only to lose them all over again didn’t keep him up at night, didn’t worm it’s way into his mind when he should have been focusing on work or basketball or fixing up his latest project car or helping Evan with the wedding planning (they’d chosen the card stock for the invitations and were now working on the guestlist which would be limited by how many people could comfortably fit in Bobby and Athena’s back yard).

“I thought you wanted it to work out,” said Evan.

“I do,” said Tommy. He grabbed his wallet and the keys to their rental car off the nightstand. “I really do, and I’m nervous too, but if things do go wrong, I highly doubt it’ll be because of you, Evan. If anything, it’ll probably be my fault.”

“What makes you say that?” Evan asked.

“I left them,” said Tommy. “I promised I’d come back for them, and I didn’t and I’m not proud of that.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t blame them if they change their minds.” Tommy sighed and allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, something he would never have imagined being able to do a year ago when they’d first gotten together. “Honestly, sometimes I’m not sure I deserve this second chance with them.”

“Tommy.” Evan shook his head and ran a hand down Tommy’s back. “Of course you deserve a second chance.”

“You have to say that, you’re my fiancé,” said Tommy and it still gave him a buzz, saying that word out loud, imagining the promise that it held: two lives entwined eternally. He sighed. “I guess, I’ve just been getting in my head about things.”

“Oh, yeah?” Evan asked, head tilting in that way of his that had captured Tommy’s attention from the start. “Anything in particular?”

“What if Mikey’s ex doesn’t like me?” Tommy asked. He pulled Evan into a hug and settled his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

Evan relaxed against him and chuckled, but not in a way that felt dismissive of Tommy’s concerns. “You worried you might not get uncle privileges?” Evan asked.

“Maybe?” Tommy shrugged. He honestly wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about the idea of not being allowed to meet kids he’d never met and only knew about because Nonna had told him about them during his visits to her over the years. From Nonna he knew that Annie played basketball like him and that Cassie liked to draw. He didn’t know his nieces and yet he loved them because Nonna loved them. “Is it weird that I feel possessive of kids I’ve never even met?” he asked.

Evan shook his head. “No, I get it. I mean it’s not quite the same, but when Chim was driving around the country with Jee trying to find Maddie, it felt like he was driving around with a part of my heart.”

And Evan sounded so earnest that Tommy simply had no choice but to kiss him about it.

Evan spent the drive from their hotel to Mikey’s apartment spouting fun facts about Dr Isabella Vandervall, one of the few Black female doctors practicing in the US in the early twentieth century and an early proponent of birth control. Tommy had no idea why Evan had latched onto her or even how he’d heard about her in the first place, but he enjoyed listening to Evan spout his fun facts and talk about Dr Vandervall’s struggles to find work in an environment increasingly designed to create barriers for women of colour in the medical field. He wondered if Evan had told Hen about her yet or if that’s what Hen had to look forward to at their next shift.

Tommy’s nerves were almost entirely forgotten by the time he pulled up in front of Mikey’s building. “Thanks,” he said, giving Evan a quick kiss before getting out of the car.

“For what?” Evan asked.

“For distracting me,” said Tommy.

Mikey’s place was hardly what Tommy would have expected from someone who worked in the tech industry: bare bones and not in any way reflective of Mikey’s personality. It kind of reminded Tommy of Evan’s place before he’d started decorating it about six months into their relationship and even then it’d taken Evan moving into Tommy’s place before he’d started really defining his taste and they’d figured out how to balance things to make what had once been Tommy’s house their shared home.

“It’s not much, I know,” said Mikey as he welcomed them inside. He’d forgone the suit in favour of a short-sleeved polo and chinos. “I let Maggie keep pretty much everything in the divorce. Felt like the least I could do after everything I put her through. Not that a sofa makes up for everything, but I figure it’s start.”

“Mikey, at some point you’re gonna have to stop beating yourself up about the past,” said Maggie.

The pink hair had been a bit of a shock given how buttoned up Mikey was, but maybe she’d died it post-divorce: new hair for a new start.

“I know,” said Mikey with a sigh. “I’m working on it.”

It broke Tommy’s heart a little to see how much Mikey still loved his ex. Maggie definitely still seemed to care for him as well but whereas Maggie was vibrant and confident in herself, Mikey seemed lost. A feeling Tommy understood all too well, even though he was good at hiding his insecurities behind a confident mask. There was a part of him that was jealous of how open his little brother was able to be about how much of a disaster his personal life was, how he was afraid to show the world his mess. That was probably a healthier way of dealing with things than Tommy’s preferred methods of bravado and defensiveness.

“Hey, uh, my boss has been in recovery for years,” said Evan. “If you want, I can give you his number.”

“Really?” Mikey blinked. “He won’t mind?”

“I don’t think so,” said Evan. “I mean, I can check with him, but he’ll probably say it’s fine.”

“That’s really kind of you, Buck,” said Maggie. Evan had told them to use his nickname, which only served to reinforce to Tommy how lucky he was to have “Evan” privileges.

“Yeah,” said Mikey. “I appreciate it, man.”

“It’s no problem,” said Evan. He then gave Mikey both his own number and Bobby’s and then that somehow evolved into Evan and Maggie sitting on the sofa showing off pictures of the kids in their lives while Mikey and Tommy stood in the kitchen watching them.

Tommy took a sip of his iced tea. “You good?” he asked.

Mikey sighed. “I miss my family, Tommy,” he said. “I miss being at home with them and I hate that I’m the one who broke our family apart. And I’m not just talking about Maggie and the girls.”

Tommy squeezed Mikey’s shoulder. “Our family was broken long before that day at the hospital,” he said. “I’m not sure it was ever not broken.”

“I’m beating myself up again, aren’t I?” said Mikey.

“Happens to the best of us,” said Tommy.

Then the door opened, and Tony let himself into Mikey’s apartment, a teenager – Noah, Tommy assumed – with reddish blond hair skulking in his shadow.

Tony actually smiled at Tommy as they shook hands. “Hey,” he said. “This is our little brother, Noah.” He gestured to the lanky teen who gave Tommy a shy smile and waved.

Tommy smiled back. “Hi,” he said. “Nonna told me a lot about you and your sister. I, uh, wish we could’ve met earlier.” And oh, how he wished he’d been brave enough to come back sooner, but honestly, Tommy still wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to face his father again. And even if he was, what would he do when faced with him? Would he shut down like he had when they’d had that run-in with Gerrard back at the medal ceremony? Would he go straight back to being that angry, wounded kid? Tommy honestly had no idea. “Hey, let me introduce you to my fiancé.” Evan had come over from the couch when Tommy’s brothers arrived and was hovering at Tommy’s elbow. “Evan this is Tony and Noah. Guys, this is Evan.”

“Hey, Evan Buckley, nice to meet you,” Evan shook Tony’s hand. “Most people call me Buck.”

“Nice to meet you, Buck,” said Tony, and Tommy caught his eyes drifting to the tattoos on Evan’s arms. Tommy wondered how Tony saw them, if he was assessing them from an artistic standpoint or a craft standpoint or from some other view entirely.

“Hi, Buck,” said Noah, voice little more than a whisper. And there was something about Noah’s entire demeanour, how hunched in on himself he was, how he let his hair cover half his face like he was accustomed to making himself as small and unobtrusive as possible which told Tommy all he needed to know about how their father’s parenting style had evolved over the decades.

Between Evan and Maggie, the conversation flowed easily, keeping to light topics. Eventually, Evan and Tony broke off from the others and from Evan’s gesturing it seemed like he was asking about Tony’s tattoos. Tommy would’ve been content to watch his brother and fiancé talk, but Maggie joined him in the kitchen while Mikey and Noah sat on the sofa talking. “It was really great to meet you, Tommy,” she said, smiling at him. “We’ll have to schedule time for you to meet the girls.”

“You’re sure?” Tommy asked, surprised not just at the gesture but also at the warm burst of joy that filled him at the thought of meeting his nieces. He wasn’t sure he’d left all that much of an impression on Maggie, but maybe Evan had done enough impressing for the both of them.

Maggie smiled at him. “I can tell that you’re serious about rebuilding this family, Tommy,” she said. “And I think it’d be good for the girls right now, so they can see that just because things are hard right now, it doesn’t mean our family’s broken.” And then she surprised Tommy by pulling him into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“For what?” Tommy whispered back.

“I haven’t seen Mikey this happy since the girls were little,” she said. “It means the world to him that you’re back in his life.” She released him, and Tommy thought he saw her wipe away a tear.

“It means the world to me too,” said Tommy. “I’m just glad I’m not too late.”

Maggie smiled at him. “It’s probably not my place to say anything, since we just met, but maybe now is the perfect time for you to have come back.”

Tommy frowned. “How so?”

“I think you’ve probably grown a lot in the last twenty years,” said Maggie. “And I’m guessing that your journey hasn’t been an easy one. Can you honestly say that you would have been in a place to do what you’re doing now fifteen years ago? Ten years ago? Five years ago?”

“Probably not,” said Tommy and he saw her point. Fifteen years ago, he’d been trying his best to fit in at Gerrard’s 118, actively turning himself into a worse person, taking steps towards becoming exactly like his father despite every effort he’d made to get away. Ten years ago, he’d still been in denial about his sexuality, still lying to himself and everyone around him. Five years ago, he’d still been fumbling around, trying to figure out who he was and how to be comfortable with that and he still had days where the past gnawed at him, where slivers of his old selves lodged in his flesh and encapsulated, where he was moody and sarcastic, where he let his fears get the better of him, but now he had Evan to pluck those slivers out, to bring Tommy back to himself and the person he wanted to be. “Honestly, if not for Evan, I probably wouldn’t have even come to the funeral.”

Maggie nodded. “There’s a reason I didn’t go,” she said. “I refuse to let my girls be in the same room with that man. We did our own little remembrance ceremony later.”

“That must have been a tough decision,” said Tommy.

Maggie shrugged. “Honestly, the hardest part of my marriage wasn’t even Mikey’s drinking,” she said. “It was having Jonathan as a father-in-law. If he wasn’t criticising everything about me, he was leering at me. And you know how Mikey is, always wanting everyone to get along.” She sighed. “He was so worried about keeping the peace that he never actually backed me up against your dad.”

And Tommy could picture it, the isolation Maggie must have felt in his father’s house with a husband who wouldn’t take her side. “That’s what Dad does,” said Tommy. “He knows exactly how to put pressure on relationships to make them break, to turn people against each other, to isolate people. My first captain was the same way.”

“God, that must have been hell to grow up with,” said Maggie.

And Tommy couldn’t argue with that.

Eventually, Maggie had to leave to pick up her kids from their grandmother’s house, but before she did, Tommy made sure to grab her number and email so they could coordinate a visit. By the time Maggie left, it was getting on towards dinner time and Mikey’s kitchen was in no way set up for cooking anything remotely resembling real food and his fridge was full of pre-made microwavable meals, so they decided to order take out from a nearby Chinese restaurant that Tommy was amazed was still open. It’d been one of his favourites as a kid and he’d always loved it when Mom has a little extra spending money, and she’d take the three of them out and they’d eat spring rolls and sesame chicken and try to break their fortune cookies in two without crushing the brittle biscuits.

Wanting to see if it was anything like he remembered, Tommy volunteered to walk the three blocks from Mikey’s house to pick the food up.

“Can I come with you?” Noah asked. It was the most he’d said to Tommy since arriving.

“Sure,” said Tommy. He cast Evan a questioning look.

“Go.” Evan stretched his arms across the back of Mikey’s beige sofa and it was wonderful to see Evan looking so comfortable after he’d been so nervous earlier. “I’ll hang out here.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll be fine,” said Evan, amusement edging his voice.

“Go, bond,” said Mikey. “We’ll keep Buck company.”

And Tommy decided to trust that Evan truly was fine.

Noah kept quiet at first and Tommy thought it was better to leave space for his younger half-brother to speak first.

After a block, Noah spoke. “How’d you do it?” he asked, almost too softly to be heard over the sound of traffic.

“What?” Tommy asked.

“Find the courage to leave?” asked Noah. “You’re the only one. Everyone else either never left or came back.”

“I don’t know about that it had anything to do with courage,” said Tommy. “It always felt like running away. Abandoning my duty. I promised I’d protect Mikey and Tony, but I got scared and ran away.”

1990

Tommy was four. He wasn’t sure what was going on. First Mommy was sick, throwing up at random times and then Daddy was mad which was scary and made Tommy want to cry only he had to try really hard not to cry because that only made Daddy louder. Then Mommy stopped being sick so much but there was still something off. She smelled different and she cried more, and she stopped drinking the sour grape juice that she usually had every night.

And not long after that, Mommy came into Tommy’s room. “Scoot over,” she whispered so that Daddy wouldn’t wake up and yell. It was one of Daddy’s snoring nights. One of the nights that Mommy said they had to be very quiet because if they woke Daddy up, he’d turn into a dragon.

Dragon Daddy was even scarier than regular Daddy.

Tommy scooted and tucked himself up against Mommy’s side, pressing his ear to her ribs so he could hear her heartbeat.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, Tommy,” Mommy said. “I need you to promise not to tell anyone, not Daddy, not Auntie, not even Nonna. Do you promise.”

Tommy nodded.

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

It was scary because Tommy didn’t want to die if he accidentally told someone Mommy’s secret, but that made the secret even bigger, and he really wanted to know, and he didn’t want Mommy to think he was scared so he took his pointer finger and crossed his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said.

“Good boy.” Mommy kissed his forehead. “You know how Mommy’s been sick,” she said. “And how I’ve been moody?”

Tommy nodded.

“Well, that’s because I’m going to have a baby,” said Mommy. “But I don’t want Daddy to yet, because Daddy doesn’t like babies.”

Tommy knew what babies were and he knew they came from mommies’ tummies, but Mommy’s tummy was still flat. “But you’re not big,” he said.

Mommy chuckled. “Not yet,” she said. “The baby’s still too small to show, but he or she’s in here.” She took his hand and guided it to her lower belly. “You’re going to be a big brother. Do you know what that means?”

Tommy shook his head.

“It means you’re going to have a little brother or sister and you’re going to have to be very brave and protect them,” said Mommy.

“From Dragon Daddy,” said Tommy.

Mommy squeezed him closer. “Yes, from Dragon Daddy,” she said. “Can you do that? Can you be brave for me?”

Tommy didn’t know, but he didn’t want to disappoint Mommy, so he said yes.

“That’s my brave little soldier,” said Mommy and Tommy drifted off to sleep listening to her heart. He dreamt of fighting dragons.

2025

Only, Tommy’s bravery had died when his father pulled the plug on Mom.

And maybe, that was part of why he’d gone to war. Maybe he’d been hoping that if he actually became a soldier, he’d find his bravery again. Only war had broken him and some of the pieces were still missing, and others were loose even though he’d managed to fit them back together again.

“I wish I was brave enough to run away,” said Noah. “But Dad would just find me or one of his patrol buddies would.”

There were two ways Tommy could play this: ask Noah why he wanted to run and risk Noah shutting down or make a joke and hope Noah kept opening up. “Yeah, one of the downsides of having a cop for a dad,” he said. “Whatever you do, though, I don’t recommend joining the army.”

Noah actually chuckled a little. “Wasn’t planning to,” he said. “They’d make me cut my hair.” And there was something there, some truth Tommy didn’t have enough pieces of to put together. He hoped he got the chance to figure it out.

“What about college?” Tommy asked, though he couldn’t see their father shelling out tuition on his police pension.

“Too expensive,” said Noah. “And I’m not as smart as Mikey. No way I’d land a full ride scholarship like he did.”

Tommy grinned at that. When he’d heard about Mikey’s scholarship, he’d been so proud. Of course, it’d also affirmed his belief that he’d been right to keep away, that his brothers were doing just fine without him. “Let me guess, Dad wants you to follow in his footsteps, join the force. Wants at least one of his sons to finally make him proud.”

“Yup,” said Noah. “Ain’t happening though.”

They reached the restaurant which hadn’t changed at all since Tommy had last been there. He even recognised the hostess – a little greyer and a little more hunched. What was more, she recognised him. “Been a long time, Tommy Kinard.”

“Hey, Mrs Chen,” said Tommy, astonished that he’d made enough of an impression on her that she’d recognise him all these years later despite being taller and broader and having twenty more years of life carved into his face.

“You back for good or just visiting?” she asked after sending a kid who Tommy suspected was her grandson to the back to grab their order.

“Just visiting,” he said.

“I was sorry to here about your grandmother,” said Mrs Chen. “I always liked her.”

“Thanks,” said Tommy. “That means a lot.” And it did, to know that Nonna had impacted more than just her family, that her legacy and influence would live beyond her, rooted in the community she’d loved.

Mrs Chen threw a few extra fortune cookies in their bag before they left.

“I can’t believe she still remembers me,” said Tommy as they started walking back to Mikey’s.

“You left a bigger hole than you thought,” said Noah.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Tommy. And wasn’t that a remarkable thought? He’d thought he’d be forgotten; thought he could simply slide out of one life and into another and no one would notice or care. How wrong he’d been. “Can’t say I was the smartest eighteen-year-old.” Since Noah seemed a bit more relaxed, Tommy asked. “Is there something you like to do?”

Noah shrugged, rustling the bag of food against his pant leg. “I like music,” he said. “I actually play bass in a band with some friends. We’re not very good, but it’s fun.”

“That’s cool,” said Tommy. “I always wanted to learn an instrument, but Dad said it was a waste of time.” Maybe Dad had changed after all.

“Dad doesn’t know,” said Noah. “Not even Mikey and Tony know.” Which meant he didn’t fully trust them not to let Noah’s hobby slip to their father. Tommy knew Tony still saw Dad pretty regularly, but he thought that Mikey had pretty much gone no contact.

Tommy chuckled. “I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for, kid,” he said. “No way would I have had the guts to sneak around and learn an instrument behind his back.”

To Tommy’s delight, Noah smiled. It was a small, bashful thing, but it was the first time he’d seen a smile on his half-brother’s face, and it was lovely.

“When did you realise you were never gonna be able to live up to his expectations?” Noah asked.

Tommy sighed and shook his head. “Our situations are a little different there,” he said. “Dad never wanted to marry my mom. Their parents forced them to tie the knot when they got pregnant with me. So, I guess you could say I started out life failing to meet Dad’s expectations.”

Noah nodded. He licked his lips before saying, “My mom was pregnant with me when they got married, too. So, it’s pretty similar, I guess. Only I don’t think Nonna forced Dad into getting married again.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Tommy. And once again he was hit with just how much family history he’d missed. He was used to feeling like an outsider looking in, so he wasn’t sure why it stung so much in this situation.

Noah shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I guess, I never realised how much we have in common, since no one really talked about you.” He shook his long hair out of his face. “I mean, I knew I had an older brother named Tommy. Nonna had a picture of you on the mantle in your military uniform and everything. For a long time, I thought maybe you’d died and that’s why I’d never met you.”

“Dad probably would’ve preferred it that way,” said Tommy. “Then he could’ve had a martyr for a son he could brag about to his friends without having to worry about all the ways that I embarrass him just by being me. What made you realise I wasn’t dead.”

“Mikey told me when he was drunk,” said Noah. “I don’t even know if he remembers he told me. He started crying and ranting about how he wished he’d never said what he said. How he missed you. I think I was ten. I wanted to know more about you, so I asked Nonna, but she just said it would make Dad angry if he found out I told you anything and Tony always got angry when I asked, so I stopped asking.”

“Why would you want to know more about me?” Tommy asked.

Noah seemed about to say something, but then his expression shuttered. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said.

And Tommy was pretty sure that was the first lie his youngest brother had told him, but he didn’t press the issue. They’d only just met; it would take time for Noah to trust Tommy enough to truly open up and Tommy could be patient. “If you ever need anything, you can call me,” he said. “And I’m not just saying that. I will fly up from LA if you need me to.”

Noah’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?”

Tommy turned to face his younger brother full-on. “I mean it,” he said. “I know we’ve only just met, and I regret that. I wish I could have been there for you, but I wasn’t. I want to be there for you now, if you’ll let me.”

Noah nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

They reached Mikey’s place a little while after that and Noah faded back to the sidelines, though Tommy thought he seemed a little more relaxed than he had before.

The next day, Tommy and Evan drove into San Francisco to check out the jewellers they’d shortlisted as options for designing their wedding bands. They planned to get silicone bands for when they were working, but they both agreed that it would be fun to design their rings together. Well, mostly it was Evan who thought it would be fun, and he’d managed to convince Tommy of the merits of putting more thought into what their wedding bands would look like than just picking out generic gold or silver mens wedding bands.

“This is the place that does the meteorite inlay,” Evan said as they parked in front of what looked to Tommy like an alley.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Tommy asked, though he still followed Evan away from the car.

“Yeah,” said Evan. “It used to be a queer friendly speakeasy back during prohibition.”

“Oh really?” said Tommy, preparing himself to be inundated with facts and Evan did not disappoint. Tommy smiled to himself as Evan led him into the tucked away jewellery store and not for the first time thanked God or whatever greater power was out there for putting them in each other’s paths and for giving Tommy the bravery to for once in his life not run away.

At the end of the visit, they placed an order for a gold ring with a redwood inlay for Tommy and a titanium ring with a meteorite inlay for Evan, engraved with their initials on the inside and the date they’d chosen for the wedding.

Tommy couldn’t wait until the day they’d be able to wear them.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buck buckely #rebuilding burnt bridges #original characters #9 1 1 fanfiction

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bijouxcarys · 1 year ago

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Allure (Brian May x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

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

NSFW, minors dni

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I looked at him, shocked. "Really?"

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

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

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

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

Y/N,

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

See you later, sweet girl.

Bri x

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thematicparallel · 4 months ago

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still currently reading Blood Over Bright Haven by M.L. Wang. it's so on-the-nose with its interrogation of the themes that it doesn't leave the reader with more dirt to dig around in, which i guess is fine with me. i prefer it more than plotty books that say absolutely nothing. i'm around chapter 9 & i really like how Sciona is so fucking unlikable & so callous with her worldviews & so unfathomably blinded by her ambition that she doesn't pause to consider how her success means she will eventually hurt, possibly kill(?) tons of people. or even if her dynamic with Thomil gives her pause, it doesn't necessarily influence her to change her course because she can't see past her own prejudices, & into the bigger picture. i also like how Thomil is able to challenge & shift her so directly, that you then start to question what it says about the responsibility of someone in a marginalized position to educate people on their privilege. in this case, it's because he has no choice but to continue working with her, because quitting will likely lead to capital punishment if Sciona chooses to inflict it on him. then you also get flashes of Sciona viewing Thomil in this romantic lens, which might definitely pull some ao3 trope enjoyers in, but it's so insidious when you think about the power imbalance between them. like get a grip girl just because he's the first man to listen & talk to you without insulting you doesn't mean you can fawn over him. it's soooo interesting. the "utopian" society they live in is called Tiran, btw. yeah, like Tyranny. crazy!!!!!!

#it's not often that i get to read about truly unlikable women & i love it. i Cannot find any redeeming qualities to her right now.#maybe only that she listens to Thomil & sees it as an intellectual exercise even if she's affronted. but that's it!!#oh i also LOVE the magic system here it's kinda vague wrt the energy source so far but it's very mathematical & convincing? delicious....#blood over bright haven

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deepspacedukat · 8 months ago

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Worthy

And Spock wins the plot bunny sprint. 🖖

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Spock & Reader (platonic)

[A/N: This can be any Spock you want, but in the interest of full disclosure, I did write it with TOS Spock in mind.]

Warnings: Mentions of a break-up (not between reader and Spock), tears, emotional hurt/comfort, friend relationship, Spock is a good friend, supportive Vulcans are supportive.

~*~

"Lieutenant? You have seemed distracted today. Are you well?" The calm, neutral voice of the Enterprise's first officer startled me out of my stupor. I'd thought I was alone in the turbolift - finally free to trudge back to my quarters at the end of my shift and cry myself to sleep. Had Spock been there the whole time? If not, when did he get into the lift with me? Had I been that out of it?

"I'm fine, sir," I murmured, but the conspicuously raised eyebrow told me that he didn't believe a word.

"Forgive me, but unless I am mistaken, the puffiness around your eyes indicates the recent presence of tears. And you never call me sir when we are off-duty," he stated, and although I knew he was just expressing his concern, the formality of his observation in a situation like this drew a rueful huff of laughter from my throat. I was certain that I'd either confused him or made him even more concerned about my well-being.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I nodded my head and halted the turbolift.

"Perceptive as always, Spock." He'd been my friend since the year before I'd been assigned to Enterprise, and since I had nobody else aboard who I felt like telling, I figured I should go ahead and tell the one person to whom I told everything. "He broke up with me...said he couldn't handle this 'long distance stuff,' to use his own words."

At this Spock's brow furrowed.

"I was under the impression that he was merely opposed to the labeling of your relationship as romantic. The two of you were, to quote you, 'keeping things casual.'" He sounded as confused as I felt.

"We were, but...I guess a casual relationship just...wasn't what he wanted anymore. Not when it was long distance, anyway," I muttered crossing my arms protectively over my middle and leaning against the turbolift wall. "He wants to stay friends, though. I agreed. It hurt, but I agreed. I can't make him care for me more than he does."

Lowering my head to hide the reemergence of my tears, I took another deep, steadying breath and tried to blink them away before they could fall.

A large, warm hand grasped my upper arm, a gentle sensation that made me look up.

"If he was not satisfied with the devotion you harbored for him - that was evident whenever you spoke of him or to him - then he was not worthy of you," Spock murmured, soft brown eyes conveying more compassion than I'd expected from one so controlled as he.

This time I couldn't stop the tears that dripped down my cheeks.

"Thank you, Spock." My voice sounded watery and small, but I knew he wouldn't mind. His mother was Human. He'd probably seen her cry before, not to mention the rest of the Humans he'd served with.

Standing straight and clasping his hands behind his back, Spock lifted his chin slightly and spoke with more gravitas than I'd heard before outside of the Bridge.

"As you are my friend, I believe it is my honor and privilege to host you in my quarters for what is colloquially termed a 'girl's night.' I may not be the same gender as the name implies, but I have been told that what matters on such an occasion is the quality of the friendship. I believe I am correct in saying that ours qualifies."

I was so stunned that I didn't reply immediately, but Spock continued.

"Disregarding the lack of nutritional content, I believe ice cream would be an appropriate substitute for a meal, as well as wine. As per the terms of a 'girl's night,' I am also quite open to listening to the ways in which the ending of the relationship has caused you pain and providing comfort at appropriate moments–"

I couldn't help myself. I knew that Vulcans weren't big on physical touch, but Spock had allowed me to hug him before. Throwing my arms around his waist, I let out a wet giggle against his shoulder, making him break off mid-sentence.

"You're too good to me, Spock."

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as I sniffled quietly.

"It is my duty as your friend to support you. I believe it would be customary after a terminated relationship to offer to hide the body, but he is not worthy of the effort of such a venture," he said against the top of my head. "I take it you would not be opposed to a girl's night?"

I shook my head wordlessly, and he redirected the turbolift toward the floor housing his quarters.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #fuck it #why not

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miryum · 2 years ago

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Foundling Villa- Chapter 7

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner

Warnings: argument, I guess? I’m not sure there’s any warnings this chapter. Sorry it’s a little short

ao3 link next chapter>>

Charles woke to creaking. Still blurry-eyed, he peeked above the couch. You were shuffling around, wedding gown clutched to your body, pulling open the door to your adjoined room.

“What’re you doing?” he croaked out, his morning voice making you freeze.

“I am,” you straightened up, hand still on the doorknob. “Leaving. Goodbye.” You felt the mocking need to drop into a curtsy, but you held yourself upright.

“Are you going to the Villa?” Charles sat up, groaning when his back twinged in discomfort. He had never slept on a couch before. He wanted to laugh, wondering if it was where he would spend most of his nights from now on.

“Yes, I am.” Before he could say another word, you swept into your room and closed the door, slumping against it.

You glanced up and froze. Elena and Sara stared back at you. Elena stifled a laugh. “I take it that the wedding night went well?” she asked.

You grumbled at her, though you both knew it had no heat against it. “Please tell me that we’re packed?”

“Yes, my Lady,” Sara smiled kindly. She gently took you by the hand and led you to the bathroom where a much-needed bath awaited. A simple travelling dress was laid out.

You made great time, hurrying out of the palace and down the steps to a carriage that was already loaded and ready to go. You felt like a runaway bride, trying to escape a marriage and a life that, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the worst in the world.

Enza was much more wealthy that Williams and you knew, that as royalty, you had privilege far beyond the common man. But didn’t the common man have freedom far beyond you? Prince Charles Leclerc was not the most terrible thing that could happen to you. He was devilishly handsome (that much you had to admit), had a sweet family, and was trying to establish a kind, working relationship with you.

So why were you constantly running away?

Maybe it was because of the lack of choice. The prospect that Prince Charles could have been a terrible person weighed on you ominously.

“Princess Y/n!” You were beginning to clamour into the carriage when a shout stopped you in your tracks.

Reluctantly, you turned around to see a half-dressed Prince Charles running down the steps. For a brief moment you wondered what the guards thought. Prince Charles only wore a wrinkled tunic with the laces undone and his wedding pants which were haphazardly thrown on.

“Oh my goodness sake,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Have a little decency, won’t you?” Once he reached you, you took the laces of his shirt and pulled them tight, knotting them into a bow.

“I-I could’ve done that,” Charles muttered.

“But you didn’t,” you pointed out. “Why are you here?”

Prince Charles looked hurt. If eyes were the window to the soul, then his soul was in a dismal state. “I am asking you why. I am asking you why you keep running away from me. I consummated the marriage as you asked. We are together joined as husband and wife for eternity.”

“But I don’t want that!” Your frustration bubbled up. “I didn’t choose to marry you, Prince Leclerc, but I am now bound to you in body and mind. I am forced to be by your side no matter your whim or folly! While I am sure you are a very pleasant man, I wasn’t able to find out for myself, nor do I now intend to. In order to preserve some sense of freedom I am leaving and giving you a very wide berth. I don’t want to be married to you, I don’t want to love you, and I most certainly do not want to be your friend.” You pivoted abruptly and sat down in the carriage. “If you find the need to communicate, you may write a letter which will be handled through my maids. I bid you adieu.”

Elena and Sara scurried in the carriage and the moment the door slammed shut, the horses took off like a gunshot.

Charles gazed after the retreating carriage that held his wife. At least he now knew that you didn’t have a problem with him- you had a problem with the rules. It was comforting to know that maybe, in another universe, you might’ve given him a chance. Maybe if you weren’t forced together, you would’ve been kind to Charles. You didn’t hate him; you hated the system.

For that moment, Charles wished for nothing more to renounce his throne. Perhaps if both him and Princess Y/n were commoners they would be able to find each other and love without the courts interfering.

Charles reeled back. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to be married to you any more than you did to him! Why was he wishing for a chance to earn your love? Why did he even care? Scoffing, he marched back inside, giving the guards a fierce glare, daring them to gossip about what they had seen.

He would not fall into a loveless trap.

The Foundling Villa was everything you dreamed it would be. When you entered, the first thing that greeted you were two wooden staircases on the left and right, leading up to the second floor. The sitting room was connected to the kitchen and a small parlour. There was a door in the kitchen that entered the servants quarters. Large glass double doors led into the expansive backyard, which you were most excited to explore. Upstairs, three bedrooms were connected together while the two others sat separately.

You instructed Elena and Sara to unpack in the master bedroom and went to meet the staff.

Chef Yuki was a very eager man, shaking your hand enthusiastically. A man who was dressed in stable master’s garb, whom you assumed was Lando, sauntered into the room as you were finishing introductions, and began to talk adamantly about the horses he picked out for you. Clearly, he had a passionate love for them. He was younger than you expected (you had trusted Elena and Sara to choose the staff) but from his words you knew that he was experienced. The other members of the staff were very kind, and obviously pleased to have someone to serve.

It was rejuvenating to see people who wouldn’t judge you or rat you out at the prospect of climbing the hierarchical ladder. You wondered if your siblings would be as happy as you were when they came to visit.

The Foundling Villa seemed like paradise, no matter how lonely you were.

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #chalres leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lord perceval #yuki tsunoda #lando norris #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc

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padfootastic · 2 months ago

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Hey, so, I just saw your post about FoD. And while I'm absolutely, truly delighted that you're updating - it feels like a blessing from the heavens, truly - I do want you to know, no matter how cheesy or uh, cliché this may sound, that I and many other people really appreciate the amount of love you put into your works. I know this is probably very self-projectiony of me, but sometimes, writing just gets really frustrated sometimes. It never seems to come out write and the worlds are jumbled up and life, well, life sucks. And sometimes, it feels like what's the point, you know?

Maybe you don't feel that way - in which case, I'm super sorry for just being a rambling mess - but I want you to know that you a brilliant writer. Just simply one of the most evocative, amazing, made of stardust, writers. Your writing is comforting, cathartic, it feels like home.

I read your fics back when I didn't have an AO3 account - or any fanfiction account - on FFN and then dive bombed into your AO3. I created a tumblr just so I could stalk your headcannons. You just have so much love to pour into your works, you know? You made me love Sirius. Change my perspective of him. And well, taught me to just have fun with the source material.

And I guess, the point of this all is, is that I want you to know how important you are. Your fics were the self-soothing therapy I needed after a bad exam or just a blue day. Your headcannons are something I simply scroll through and let it expand my view and just, well, thank you for existing. Thank you for writing. Thank you for being in this world, despite how cruel it is.

Your writing is comforting. You are brilliant. And well, I'm glad Harry Potter exists so I could come across your work. But, also, if you ever decide not to write again, or even if you update after three decades, that won't change the love I have for this story, for you.

Your writing promotes growth, it lets people grow. It also lets them learn to love. Can't believe it's been five years since I came across your work, you're simply a wonderful, constant star.

i want to hoard your words like a niffier and keep them tucked close to, inside, my chest cavity and never, ever let them out. i don’t know what i did to deserve such unconditional kindness, but i will forever be thankful to you for it. i cannot tell u how much it means to me to hear this, on the back end of some of the worst months i’ve had, and to feel so loved.

i absolutely feel that way, every second of every day that i’m writing. i’m constantly worried about what i’m putting out, the order i’m doing it in, and if it makes any sense outside my head. i’ve been writing for over a decade but that worry has stayed with me always. so hearing this from you, another spectacular author that i immensely respect, is. so, so rewarding. it’s so gratifying. to hear that my fics have carried you through a bad day, that you come back to them again and again, i cannot imagine a higher compliment. i write primarily for myself, as the height of self indulgence, and i know i reread them, but to know that others do, that they love it just as much, if not more—it’s such a privilege. thank you. just, thank you.

#for once i am entirely out of words #this message is going to be printed and placed in front of my bed. so i can look at it every morning and night.#that’s how much it means to me.#pen’s asks #ppb

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sstwins · 4 months ago

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Hot as Hell - Angel Dust, Valentino

Summary: Angel was really fucking hot.

Not just sexy hot. Which he was, obviously. But also fucking burning up and feverish. Apparently, you could still get sick in hell.

But even being sick wouldn't get you off work. Not when you worked with Valentino.

Word Count: 1,338

Characters/Ships: Angel Dust, Valentino

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Dub-con

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53179879

uploading all my hazbin fics in the order i wrote them! i think they get better (and definitely longer) over time. follow me to read more! there's a general sensitive content warning for all of them.

Angel was really fucking hot.

Not just sexy hot. Which he was, obviously. But also fucking burning up and feverish. Apparently, you could still get sick in hell. Guess it made sense. God sending down the plague and whatever.

He would have loved to just take a day and lay in bed and do nothing. Snuggle up with Fat Nuggets and not move. But work was work, and he’d gotten a nasty call from Valentino ordering him to get his “sorry ass” over to the studio. Not even for a damn porno. Just because Val wanted to fuck him.

The call had told him to meet in Val’s bedroom. Not many people knew how to get in there, but Angel had special privileges. The room was dank and dimly lit by lamps all over, with a heart-shaped bed that sat in the middle. There were mirrors all around the place, and Angel caught a glimpse of himself in one of them.

He looked like shit. His eyes were all bloodshot and baggy. And maybe it was the humidity in the room, or the fever, but everything felt like it was spinning.

Val wasn’t there yet, but Angel knew what was expected of him. Strip and wait on the bed. He shed his jacket and shorts, leaving only his stockings and collar. Angel fluffed his chest fur in the mirror, mustering a cocky smile. Still got it.

He sauntered over to the bed, falling into it and trying to arrange his body in a way that looked sexy. He didn’t know how long he was gonna have to wait. Somewhere between a few minutes and an hour. It didn’t really matter if the waiting was really fucking annoying and ruined his day. Things worked on Valentino's schedule.

Angel stared up at the heart-shaped canopy, trying to focus his gaze. There were a few things he would normally do while he was waiting. Masturbate with some of Val’s sex toys. Prep himself for getting railed. But none of that really sounded appealing right now. What sounded fucking great was sleeping, but that would definitely not be approved of. Things seemed a little blurry around the edges right now though. Plus, Angel usually was on high alert while he was here, so he was sure he would wake up from hearing Val’s key in the lock. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a minute. It was just so fucking hot in here. But the bed was so plush… and dark… and…

“Angel!”

Angel jolted awake to the sound of a snarling voice. He snapped to attention to see Val looming over him with a nasty expression on his face. Fuck.

“Is this a place you come to rest, or a place you come to work?” Val snapped as he started undoing his coat. His eyes glinted in the dark.

“W-work.” Angel stammered, sitting up a little.

“So I must have been wrong in thinking that you were sleeping on my bed during working hours. Was I wrong?”

“I didn’t-” Angel fought to get the words out. There wasn’t really a right answer to the question. His head was fucking pounding now too. “I’ll be better,” he settled on.

Val’s lips curled up ever so slightly. “Good boy,” he purred. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning in to stroke Angel’s fur back from his face before looping a finger in his collar and pulling tight. “I know you know how to behave. But you know what happens to little boys who slip up, now don’t you?” His other hand stroked down Angel’s body, resting on his inner thigh.

Angel swallowed thickly. “Yes, Val.”

“I only have a few minutes before my next appointment,” Val continued, his voice smoothing out. “And Daddy’s all pent up from working.”

This was easier. This made sense. Angel drifted two of his arms down to the tent in Val’s underwear. “Oh my,” he purred, the words practiced. “I’d love to help you out with that.” God, Val was so fucking big.

Valentino climbed into bed on top of him, pinning down his top two arms with his large body. He bucked into Angel’s grasp. “You feel hot, baby,” he muttered as he licked a stripe up Angel’s cheek. “Show Daddy what makes you so famous around here.”

Angel slid down Val’s shorts, wrapping his free hands around Valentino’s cock. He fucking hated being restrained at all, but that was how Val liked it. He loved having Angel pleasuring him and also being pinned down at the same time. When Val leaned in to kiss him, Angel couldn’t help but flinch back a little. “Val,” he whispered, all his nerves on edge. “Remember I told you I’m not feelin’ good. I wouldn’t want you to get-”

His words were cut off as Valentino forced his mouth open, diving his tongue in and swirling it around. Angel moaned into it, letting himself be pressed into the bed. When Val pulled back, he tightened his grip on Angel’s arms.

“Don’t fucking tell me what I can’t do,” he hissed, and Angel nodded quickly, refocusing his attention on Val’s cock. It was hard, and especially if there was a time crunch, he was sure Val wouldn’t be interested in foreplay.

Pinching his eyes closed from the pain in his head, Angel spread his legs, knocking his knees against Val’s hips. “Fuck me hard, Daddy,” he whimpered, flexing his hips. The sooner the better.

Val let his arms go, grabbing his cock in his hand. He lined it up with Angel’s entrance. As he started pressing in, Angel couldn’t help but let out a little whine from the pain.

Val smiled. “No prep this time, huh baby?” He licked his lips and ran his free hand up Angel’s chest, tangling in his chest fur. “You’re so fucking hot and tight,” he moaned.

Angel tried to force his face into a position that was more sexy and less ‘this fucking hurts’. Val liked it when he was loud, so he let himself moan with it. As Val bottomed out and started pulling back and thrusting in rough, he knotted his free arms in the sheets. It felt like being on a fucking weird trip. Everything was so hot but he was shivering at the same time. Val’s face was swimming in his vision, and everything was still spinning. He just had to take it and get through it. Thankfully getting fucked was more of a passive thing. If Val had wanted him to ride him, that would have taken so much more fucking energy.

When Val came inside of him not too long after, Angel wasn’t surprised. Seemed like his body was primed right now to get people off. Val didn’t really care if Angel climaxed or not, so he hadn’t even put in the effort. His dick had barely gotten hard the whole time, and it quickly softened again when Val pulled out, grabbing Angel for one more deep kiss.

“Daddy’s gotta go back to work,” Val muttered against his lips as he pulled back. He swirled a finger in his cum that was dripping out of Angel and pressed it to the demon’s lips. Angel opened his mouth and sucked it clean, wrinkling his nose a little at the taste.

Val patted him roughly on the face and straightened up, rising from the bed. “Don’t fucking be here when I get back,” he said as he pulled on his coat, voice hardening and losing any of the sexual allure from their roleplay. Then he walked to the door and was gone.

Angel lay back on the bed, taking in a deep breath. He was all sticky now from the cum, which was clumping into his fur. Funny enough, the substance felt almost cool right now. He stared up at the canopy, trying to muster up the strength to get up and walk all the way back home.

It really was so fucking hot in here.

#angel dust #valentino #valangel #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #sstwins' writing

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frankenjoly · 6 months ago

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Hi Clau!!! Hope you’re well <3

“Stay with me?” + kousano 👀👀

per our dms chat this is platonic koyo & yosano but there's also bonus skk lkjslkjslkdf let's say this is some joint ada-pm mission with an ability user that brings painful memories out bcs this is always a handy concept

koyo & yosano + “stay with me”

“What did you see?” Kôyô broke the heavy silence, and she turned her head to the side, staring at her more than bewildered.

Yosano wasn’t confused due to not understanding the question itself, though, but the fact she was asking her in the first place; they weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, and the effect of such an ability made one envision their most painful memories. So, quite the way to expose yourself.

‘Stay with me.’ She had heard, and the voice had sounded so like his.

“A friend I found and lost when I was a kid.” Getting the full story, from her lips at least, was a privilege Yosano reserved for a few. But she supposed sharing a few details couldn’t hurt. “Older than me, but still so damn young. His face was kinda blurry, since it’s been so long… but his voice, that I remember as clear as day.” It still haunted her, after all.

There was no time for silence to settle back in, since Kôyô chose to open up as well.

“I saw the man who was to be my companion towards the light, had that been really attainable.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Yosano wanted to say it had been and still was attainable, and had examples to back such a claim up (Kyôka, without going further). But she chose not to: after all, there was no saving someone who didn’t want to be saved.

“Likewise.” Kôyô simply replied, nodding. “We should get moving.”

They still weren’t friends, and Yosano might still hold a little grudge when it came to how the woman beside her had handled Kyôka moving on at first, how she had relentlessly hurt Atsushi. But (not so) deep down, there was also the knowledge that she could have been the same, were circumstances different. And so, she chose being cordial if nothing else.

skk + “stay with me”

“What did you see?” Dazai asked when Chûya was still trying to fully calm down and honestly, if the question didn’t work as a grounding method, he would have considered punching him.

“Pfft, what didn’t I see.” Was his first answer, groaning.

‘Stay with me.’ Every single voice had said, and they all sounded so fucking real it was spooky as hell even after having dealt with way worse stuff.

“Oh, was it everyone you’ve ever let down? Then the list must be quite long, right Chûya?”

“It was everyone I’ve ever lost, bitch. Which you probably had already guessed with that big brain of yours.” Then there came another groan, but despite everything, he was now close to smirking. Annoying as Dazai was, the bantering helped a lot when it came to picking a distraction; his heartbeat seemed to be getting back to its usual pace. “Besides…” Now he straight up snickered. “One, you’re one to talk, when the list of women you’ve upset alone is taller than Kunikida. And two, I’d love to see you dealin’ with that shit, But ‘course, you had to be a lucky bastard who’s never affected by this stuff.”

“At least I was there to help you snap out of it, you should thank me instead.” But Dazai had barely finished speaking when Chûya stuck his tongue out at him as if they were teenagers again.

“I’d thank you if you had gotten rid of the whole clusterfuck earlier.”

(Also on ao3.)

#skk #soukoku #bsd yosano #bsd koyo #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd #bungou stray dogs #my stuff #clau stuff #ficlet #hehehe this was so fun #and like fr i think yosano & koyo can have a very interest dynamic #i just don't ship them romantically

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bonesandthebees · 8 months ago

Note

im alive (questionable) and im finally back (real) and gods does it feel great to finally read the new rose chapter

I did NOT realise just how MUCH I missed it but DAMN

the crimeboys bonding is going great and theyre doing good in their surviving, im so proud of them

poor phil has to deal with the one thing he cannot control and so he ofc focuses on what he can control, control freak

im enjoying reading about him A LOT, hes so intriguing to me, like yeah so far hes a good character id say, but we get a peak at what he could be capable of and are slowly learning where his priorities and loyalties and limits lie and oh gosh is it fun to watch

and ofc THE BIG MOMENT OF THE CHAPTER: friendly nicknames privileges

and like its a really important and sweet moment in itself and ive been excited for it ever since learning there will be different official names like nikanna and willum and oh did it NOT DISAPPOINT like yesssssss letsgo they are FRIENDS and they let the other call them by their NICKNAMES and it shows how much CLOSER to got and the TRUST and just AHSHSHJSDHBSBSHS YESSSSSSS

and it gets even BETTER bc thats not all, this is a recurring theme with you, whether its a fae name that carries power, a mermaid name that signals family like in last years mermay, knowing a name that reveals the secret identity in superhero aus coming with trust but also responsibility, official and personal names of royals like rose and stars showing friendship or in the other way loss of it, and in glass the reclaiming of self identity thru the reclaiming of name and letting go of a title (which btw the coolest and most genius work with narration ive ever read) you just keep on giving names value in your stories and especially the act of sharing them, the one close to you, with others as a sign of love, even just a little bit and it gets me EVERY SINGLE TIME and the fact its a recurring theme gives it even more meaning, makes it get to me even more

and like its something that happens even in real life in some ways but we often overlook just how much love is hidden in it and I love that it gets to shine like this in your stories

I know we talked about your love for giving names more meaning like this before but I just needed to scream about it again bc IT STILL GETS TO ME

it feels so good to have you back in my inbox (and my ao3 comments) with walls of text like this jiksvokrat

they're doing shockingly well!! shoutout to tommy's survival knowledge wilbur would've been dead by morning without him

I'm so glad you're enjoying the phil pov. I love showing his control issues and how his mind works. he's such a calculating character and I have so much fun writing him

I'm so glad you like my recurring thing with names. I really don't know where it came from, I never had this whole thing with names before I started writing mcyt fic. I think I just really liked it both when I wrote that first fae au fic so many years ago and then when I was writing clinic and there was obviously the whole secret identity thing going on that I just realized I liked the theme and decided to use it where I could.

I just think the act of sharing your name, your identity with someone else can be so vulnerable and full of trust!! I guess this translates to every day stuff as well. like when one of my childhood friends came out as trans to me I felt so happy when she trusted me with her new name and identity (I was one of the first people she came out to). or as a less intense example, part of why I like having an online nickname is that it feels strangely nice to have a name that you guys here can use that's me but also a bit separate from me, but then I have my real name which is reserved for the people I'm closest to (though of course most of my internet friends who know my real name still use bee for me which I don't mind at all). I guess it's kind of like having a public persona vs a private persona. idk, I guess I just really feel the importance of names so I like including it as a theme in my writing.

I'm just very glad you guys aren't getting sick of the whole name giving thing yet lol

#ask #jiksvokrat #rose ch 8

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arcanarix · 8 months ago

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all talk, no game. || DREW X MAY / SHUUKURA

cw // it's been a long time since i thought of these two. literally my first real fandom ship--contestshipping! brings back so many wonderful childhood memories. <3

ao3 || ffn

Drew has never admitted to being a perfect creature (yes he has), so yes, he has a few drawbacks and vices here and there. For one, even he has had a rocky beginning to his coordinating career. Soledad never fails to remind him of that, just to keep him a little humble.

For the sake of another example, he's not great with crowds in spite of how well he composes himself on stage. His stage persona versus his true persona are completely removed from each other. He hates crowds--absolutely detests them.

Oh yeah, another vice--he's bad at conversation. He may act like he's this cool drink of water, but that's just socialite conditioning from having a brilliantly privileged background. That's all essentially a requirement, along with ballroom dancing lessons and vocal lessons and all that other upper-upper class BS. Without that to cushion his otherwise full-on awkwardness, he's just like any other troubled teenager.

Harley does love to troll him about that, too.

"Say, when are you going to stop dicking around and do something about your feelings for our precious gingerbread cookie?" Harley confronts him, each and every damn day at this point. he's lost the record, not that he keeps track. It’s become so normalized it's not necessary. It’s the first question before "how many ribbons do you have" or "how have you been?"

Gingerbread cookie? Drew has forgone commenting on Harley's quirky nicknames for them a long time ago. for soledad lately it's been 'pinky pie.' or 'my little ponyta.' For him? Eh . . . a little less flattering. He’s been fond of calling him anDICK. AnDICK Gayden. Because he's the pinnacle of maturity.

He's also one to talk, considering his own orientation Harley's loud and proud about, which Drew commends him for actually. It's never been a secret of course, given his entire brand . . .

"Who says I have feelings for her?" Drew counters, although everyone knows what reaction he's going to be met with after asking that--

"--literally everyone," Soledad cuts in, sliding into their table with her own tray of a bountiful breakfast. "Good morning, guys. I see you started breakfast without me or may."

"You guys take forever, snickerdoodle," Harley sighs, "Besides, you're not missing out on much. Drew's just about to admit that he radiates small dick energy hence my favorite nickname for him--!"

"--Harley," Soledad groans, "you don't need to tell us the origin of that name, thanks. it's not even that creative."

Harley gasps theatrically. "Hey!"

"Is May up yet? The Pokemon Contest starts . . ." Drew glances at the clock. "Oh, never mind. We have plenty of time. It gives us time to prep and perfect our routines a bit more. I guess I didn't realize how early it was. Especially for someone who likes to sleep in like May.”

"Do you want me to go get her, if you're getting antsy?" Soledad teases.

Drew fails to conceal that brilliant rosy blush on his face. He hates how easily he's read by everyone in this room--which right now is just them and Nurse Joy and her blissey.

"No, she deserves rest. She's been working hard, you know."

"Awwww, look at Andick all fawning over her and giving her credit where credit is due,'' Harley gushes while wraggling those caterpie eyebrows of his.

"Shut up!"

"But he does bring up a good icebreaker, Drew," Soledad admits as she bites down on her bagel, filled to the brim with cream cheese. how she keeps her figure so slim in spite of her dietary choices, the world may never know. "I know we poke and prod all the time, but watching you trip over her is starting to get . . . well, old. Do something about it. We're here to support you, you know."

"Well I appreciate that, but I don't think there's any rush. As much as I love and respect her, I doubt she's even noticed," Drew laments, "and I've been dropping tons of hints."

"The roses? That's not enough!" Soledad swears this is all hopeless but she's trying for him. "Drop stronger hints."

"What's stronger than friggin' red roses? A kiss on the hand or forehead?"

"That's . . . a bit bold, but you can try. I doubt she'd shy away."

"I don't know soledad. Many girls may flock to me but I don't know how to talk to girls. at all."

"We know," Harley and Soledad say in unison.

"Believe us, we know, we watch you interact with May," Harley goes on, "And she's the easiest person to talk to in the world, honestly."

"Awww, now look who's getting all sentimental about may," Soledad teases with a grin.

"Shut up," Harley huffs, "I'm just saying that she’s come to mean a lot to me."

“We all share that sentiment about her. I never had many girl friends, so it’s nice to have one.”

“But back to the main and the only interesting topic of discussion, how the hell is Drew going to make the move?”

“He did claim he was going to make the bold move and kiss her.”

“On the HAND, Soledad.”

“But what if May finds that weird? All Drew ever is is mean to her most of the time–!”

“--He’s living up to the classic ‘he’s mean to you because he likes you’ bullshit. Which, by the way Drew, what in Mew made you believe that’s the best approach–?”

“I–!” Drew’s about to defend himself, because where in Mew’s name does he deserve all of this slander and roasting. They continue for much longer and he’ll become a cooked staraptor.

“Okay, okay, look. I get it! I get it alright.” He tosses his hands up in the air nin defeat. “I’m all talk, no game. It’s just I don’t want to compromise anything between May and I. She’s become more than my rival in many obvious ways. I just never expected my feelings for her to be this strong after all of this time. We’re roaming through the Unova region, and at each contest I enter, I hope to see her. She’s a bright, bubbly person. A big ball of sunshine. She illuminates my entire life. She’s skilled, even if I won’t admit that to her face literally ever. I might subtly point it out though. It’s just, we’re friends now, and I don’t want her to get the idea I became her friend just because I had feelings for her because that’s not true and–!”

Harley raises an eyebrow with a little smirk playing on his lips. Soledad seems to be making an expression that tells him to slow down and maybe cease all talking unless he wants to make a fool of himself.

May’s standing there, with her classic dumbfounded, puppy-like expression. She’s just rolled out of bed, and she’s ditched the bandana today to let her natural glossy hair flow. She’s got her tray of breakfast gripped in her hands.

“--she’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?” Drew finishes.

“I didn’t realize it was May Appreciation Day,” she chuckles as she joins them at the booth, sliding in next to Drew. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean you should stop singing praises to me, though.”

Oh Drew does concur.

“I think I should stop, otherwise it’ll inflate your already oversized head. You don’t want to get as egotistical as me, hm?”

“It was so much more than just him singing praises to you, May,” Soledad chimes in with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

“Yeah, if you were here just moments earlier–!” Drew mimes slicing his throat with his finger, and Harley shrugs.

“--anyway, we should finish up and get ready to head to the Contest Hall. Can’t leave our fans waiting~” Harley sings.

“You have fans?” Drew deadpans, to which May quips, “All of us do, Drew.”

They finish their breakfast together, and just as Drew tosses his leftovers away Harley approaches him and whispers in his ear.

“You really are all talk and no game. Otherwise, you’d have fessed up like a man back there.”

Harley returns to the booth, and Drew stands there before placing his empty tray on top of the trash bin. He hates that he’s been roasted yet again by Harley, but he has a point.

From his spot, he watches as May and Soledad exchange a conversation he can’t make out, focusing on the way her eyes crinkle a little when she smiles that big and wide. Even if she’s not a morning lark, she still has that bucket of pep to offer when she blesses anyone with her presence.

Drew stuffs his hands into his pockets, debating whether to leave first and have them meet him at the Contest Hall. He . . . is due for some self reflection and accountability.

He steals another glance of her when he hears her adorable giggle, this time at something Harley says, it looks like.

One day, he’s definitely going to tell her.

Just maybe not today.

#anipoke #pokemon fanfiction #contestshipping #drew x may #shuukura #pokemon fanfic #pokemon shipping #pokemon ships #erixtales #thotbubbles

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 2 years ago

Text

She Has No Idea (That I'm Even Here) - Chapter One

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader, one-sided Billy Hargrove x reader, side Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Work Summary:

Steve Harrington x reader Summer Camp AU with a side order of Billy Hargrove being a dick.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4103

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info

Notes:

I adore upsidedownwithsteve's summer camp Steve fic She Drives Me Crazy (seriously, if you haven't read it, please check it out, it's seriously so good) so I figured I'd write my own summer camp AU. This fic is in no way based on SDMC, but SDMC did make me fall in love with the idea of a summer camp setting.

Reader is somewhat implied to be plus sized. You can read it as her being plus sized or not, depending on your preference.

I'm currently aiming for this to have 4 chapters.

Warnings for Billy being a dick, bullying, risk of drowning

---

Rain had put a damper on the day’s activities. You had been assisting with the scavenger hunt, but it had to be called off early. Mike Wheeler had slipped in the mud and sprained his ankle, and although he insisted that he was fine, you still had to take him to the nurse’s office. He complained the whole way there.

You had known Mike for a long time. You went to high school with his older sister, Nancy, so you were familiar with him and his ragtag group of friends, who had been coming to camp for as long as you had.

While the nurse checked Mike over, you filled in the necessary paperwork. It wasn’t your favourite part of the job, but you knew that you’d be in trouble if you didn’t, and it was a welcome breather from the physical part of being a camp counsellor.

When the nurse had dismissed Mike, giving him an ice pack and telling him to keep his ankle elevated, you escorted him to the cafeteria, where an early dinner was being served.

The place was packed. Normally, meals were staggered, but evidently, in the interests of getting the kids fed and back to their cabins before the storm really set in, rules were being bent. The queue for food stretched all the way around the inside of the building. You were starting to feel a little claustrophobic.

Across the cafeteria, you saw Hopper standing with his hands on his hips, surveying the clear fire code violation that was happening in front of him. He was grimacing.

“Mike!” Lucas Sinclair called out, getting your attention. He wildly beckoned Mike over to him.

“I haven’t got my food yet!” Mike called back.

“You go sit with your friends and put your foot up,” you said. “I’ll get your food for you.”

He gave you his food choice, and you made your way up to the front of the queue. That was one of the privileges of being a counsellor: you were allowed to cut in line. The lady serving food didn’t blink at your request for two meals, but you felt the need to explain yourself anyway.

As you turned to head back to Mike, one tray in each hand, you almost ran right into Billy Hargrove. He grinned at you in a way that made your stomach turn, the stench of his cologne invading your nostrils.

“Two meals, huh?” he said, looking down at your trays. “I guess I’m not surprised. You should save some for the rest of us.”

You opened your mouth, to defend yourself, or to tell him to fuck off, but no words came out. Your eyes stung treacherously as you walked past him to the other end of the cafeteria to give Mike his tray. He didn’t even thank you before you walked away again.

There was a table in the corner where a handful of counsellors who weren’t currently on duty were eating. Robin was there, as well as Nancy and Eddie, and with a jolt, you realised that Steve Harrington was sitting with them.

You felt a little sick, almost tempted to discard your tray and go back to your cabin, but Robin caught your eye.

“Hey!” she called out to you, waving. “Come sit with us.”

Trapped, you could only do as she said. Steve was sitting next to Nancy, which gave you another uncomfortable twist in your gut, although you knew they were no longer together. You took the free seat beside Robin and opposite Steve.

Robin was talking a mile a minute, not slowing down until she caught your eye, and realised how shiny your eyes were.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, far too loudly.

You winced. “N-nothing.” You glanced at Steve, and found him looking at you, which made your cheeks heat up. You hated the idea of him seeing you cry.

“I saw Billy talking to you,” Robin continued. “Did he say something to you?”

“He was just being a dick.”

“Uh-huh.” She waited expectantly for you to say something else, but you were less than forthcoming.

“Is he bothering you?” Steve’s voice made you look up in surprise. “He can be a real asshole. I know I’m supposed to be a grown-up and tell you to ignore him, but I could push him off the pier for you if you want.” He smiled at you. Your stomach tingled hotly. You giggled, embarrassingly girlishly.

“No, thanks.”

“Well, offer’s on the table.”

Steve went back to talking with Robin, and you went back to picking at your food. Steve had hardly ever spoken to you before. You had been at high school together, but you moved in such different social circles that you were sure he didn’t even notice you.

After dinner, when plates were empty and trays were bussed, it was a mad dash back to your cabin in the rain. Robin was still talking to Steve, and Nancy had gone ahead, so you were alone. You almost slipped in the mud a couple of times, but you made it back relatively unscathed.

Nancy was sitting on a chair in the corner when you arrived. She looked damp and bedraggled, and was sitting rather primly to avoid getting things wet. Over the heavy pounding of the rain, you could hear the shower going.

“Chrissy called dibs on the first shower,” she said. “I’m next though, so don’t even try it.” She smiled at you, and you knew she was just kidding around.

“That’s fine. I’m gonna wait to shower until just before bed.” You enjoyed the peace of a late-night shower. You hated feeling rushed.

You grabbed some clean, comfy clothes and went behind the privacy screen at the side of the room. As you stripped off your wet clothes, you heard the door slam open again, and the telltale sounds of Robin stumbling into the cabin.

“What happened to you?” asked Nancy, barely stifling a laugh.

“I slipped,” came Robin’s reply.

“I can see that. Chrissy’s in the shower but you can take the next one. You clearly need it.”

“You’re the best.”

You pulled on your hoody over your head. Nancy was condemning herself to, at best, a lukewarm shower, and that was if Robin was quick about it. The hot water in the cabins was very limited. You were pretty sure that the water would be hot again by bedtime, thankfully, but Nancy looked like a drowned rat and clearly had no intentions of doing anything until she had showered.

“Where’s Y/N?” asked Robin.

“Changing.”

“Oh.”

Your stomach twisted, feeling as though you’d been caught eavesdropping. You neatened up your clothes and stepped out from behind the screen.

“Holy shit,” you said when you caught sight of Robin. She was covered in mud from her feet to her chest, and from her hands all the way up to her elbows. “What the fuck?” Nancy giggled, and Robin flipped you off.

Chrissy, far more tactful than either you or Nancy, said nothing when she came out of the bathroom in her pale pink dressing gown, but you watched her eyes widen as she looked at Robin.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. If you guys aren’t careful, I may just take a little lie down on your beds before I shower.”

Normally, you probably would’ve thrown a pillow at her, but you didn’t want to get it muddy. As Robin disappeared into the bathroom, you sat down on another chair. The cabin came with a little dining table, although you weren’t really supposed to eat in your cabins. Nancy had set her book down on her nightstand, reading it carefully to avoid getting it wet.

You were thankful for Robin. Nancy and Chrissy were both nice enough, but they both intimidated you in their own way. Chrissy was cheerleader beautiful, with her big eyes and pretty smile, blonde hair and long legs. She turned everyone’s heads. Before you got to know her, you were sure she would be just like the other bitchy cheerleaders at school who made fun of you. You were relieved to discover that that wasn’t true.

Nancy, on the other hand, had a ferocity and competitive spirit that was frankly terrifying. She may have been tiny, but you were sure that she could’ve taken you in a fight. She was beautiful too, in a way that made your heart twinge. Petite, with delicate features, she had stolen Steve Harrington’s heart. You knew that he would never look twice at a girl like you.

Robin, though, was something else entirely. She was gorgeous too, of course, but clumsy and awkward. She put you at ease with yourself the way no one else did. With her help, talking to Nancy and Chrissy had gotten easier too.

Chrissy sat down by the mirror and began brushing her hair. Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

“I hear Billy was giving you a hard time earlier,” she said. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The idea of sweet, sensitive Chrissy Cunningham kicking anyone’s ass drew a giggle from you. You shook your head.

“It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Nancy closed her book. “Guys are assholes. I’m sorry that guys treat you that way.”

You shrugged, but your cheeks were burning. She meant well, but you heard the meaning under her words. You were the kind of girl that boys didn’t like. You were the kind of girl they picked on.

“It’s whatever,” you said, trying to change the subject. “Speaking of guys, how is it going with Jason, Chris?”

Chrissy’s smile faltered. She tried to mask it by looking down at her hairbrush, pulling small clumps of hair from it, but you had noticed.

“Oh, you know. It’s fine.”

Nancy turned to face Chrissy. “Doesn’t sound fine.”

“Well, you know, all relationships have their ups and downs.” She shrugged. “What about you, Nance? Anything going on in your love life?”

Nancy looked taken aback to have the line of questioning turned around on her. “Nothing, actually. I’m happily single.”

“You broke up with Jonathan like six months ago. You’re not looking for a relationship again?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’.

“What about Steve?” you asked, and then internally cringed as she turned to look at you.

“What about Steve?”

“Well, you guys used to date.”

Nancy regarded you with a shrewd expression. “Me and Steve are just friends now. You know…” Her tone was faux-casual. “I wouldn’t have a problem with it at all if Steve was to date someone else. I want him to be happy. He deserves it.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. She knew. You tried to formulate a response, tripping over your words, but were thankfully saved by Robin emerging from the bathroom. She was wearing plaid pyjamas, and her hair was wrapped in a towel.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked, sprawling out on her bed.

“Boys,” said Chrissy. Robin’s lips twitched slightly.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “I don’t have much to contribute to that conversation, honestly. Nothing going on in my love life.”

As Nancy disappeared into the bathroom, Robin picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. It was clear that the conversation was over.

The rain had barely eased up by the next morning. You and the other girls sprinted from your cabin to the staff room, holding your coats over your heads. Robin very nearly took another spill, but Nancy caught her by the elbow before she could go over.

A few people were already waiting inside, including Jason Carver, Chrissy’s boyfriend. She tried to sit down in the seat next to him, but he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his lap.

“Jason,” she squeaked, flushing bright red. “Stop.” She tried to wiggle away from him, but he held her tighter.

“Carver!” Hopper barked suddenly, making you jump. Reluctantly, Jason released Chrissy and she slid down into the seat next to him. Her cheeks were bright red, and she kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

“What an asshole,” Steve muttered over your shoulder. You turned, not realising that he’d come in.

“Hey Steve,” you said, sounding uncomfortably breathless. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“Hey.” He smiled at you, a sort of lopsided smile that made your heart pound. “Shall we grab a seat?”

You glanced around. Nancy and Robin were sitting themselves down at two seats near the front. You were sure that was Nancy’s influence. Robin hated being at the front.

Eddie was sitting at the back, in the seat closest to the wall. Steve sat down next to him, but there was an open seat on Steve’s other side. You considered sitting somewhere else, but what if he took that as an insult? He clearly seemed to be expecting you to sit next to him. Heart in your throat, you sat down.

Robin glanced over her shoulder at you, and smiled. She gave you a subtle thumbs up.

Hopper cleared his throat loudly, and the room quietened. “As I’m sure you guys have guessed, outdoor activities are cancelled for today. We’re going to have to shuffle the schedules-”

The door to the office slammed open, and Billy Hargrove walked in. He was dripping wet, trailing puddles behind him as he did so.

“You’re late, Hargrove,” said Hopper, sounding more tired than angry.

“Sorry, boss.” Billy grabbed a chair, dragging it across the floor with a scraping sound. He set it down in front of you, Eddie and Steve, and sat on it sideways. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel him look at you, Cheshire cat grin on his face. You felt a little sick.

“As I was saying. We’re going to have to shuffle the schedules around. Bring up some of the indoor activities.”

As Hopper spoke, dividing up the indoor activities available, Billy caught your eye.

“Bet you’re glad it’s raining,” he murmured, just about loud enough for you to hear. “You hate all that running around outside, right?”

You tensed. He was making fun of you. As much as you tried, his thinly veiled insults were puncturing your skin. You opened your mouth to say something, but Steve beat you to it.

“Shut the hell up, Hargrove,” he growled.

Billy’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t know you cared, Harrington. Have you got a crush?”

“HARGROVE!” Hopper was suddenly much closer than you expected. When you looked up, he was standing directly behind Billy. “Is there a problem?”

Slowly, Billy turned to face him. “No problem. No problem at all.”

Hop grimaced as he turned to you. “Y/N, you’re going to be running art classes today. Harrington, I’ve got a few options-”

“I can help with the art classes,” said Steve. He glanced at you. “If you want, I mean.”

“That’d be great,” you said, trying to remember how to breathe normally.

“Alright, you’ll be taking the first group after breakfast, so you better go get ready.”

You had known Steve Harrington since elementary school. In fact, you’d known most of your fellow camp counsellors since then. The first time you spoke to him had been during a soccer game.

Steve had been the captain of his team. You were not athletic, you were usually picked last. But as the numbers dwindled and the other kids began to snicker at you, Steve called your name. That had shut them up.

You’d been harbouring a little bit of a crush on him ever since.

Okay.

Maybe more than a little bit.

Your feelings had changed during high school, when he was no longer a sweet little boy, but almost a man, with long legs and broad shoulders and perfectly styled hair. He hung around with the popular kids and was even more unattainable than he’d ever been.

So you pushed your stupid little crush down. You kept your head down and focused on finishing high school.

But according to Robin, he’d changed a lot since high school. You knew they worked together at a video store. He had matured and grown into himself, no longer feeling the need to step on others to make himself feel good.

It was hard to watch him help a little girl put glitter on her artwork without feeling a surge of longing. He was so gentle, his big hands steadying her tiny ones, and when she squealed with delight at the way her work shimmered, he high-fived her.

“You’re staring.”

You spun around to see Erica Sinclair. She was smirking at you.

“I- What- No-”

“Relax,” she said, going back to her drawing. “I’m not gonna tell him.”

Your cheeks heated up. “There’s nothing to tell.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

You were very glad when lunchtime finally rolled around.

The day had been a trial for you. You had a different group of kids after lunch, but Steve was still there with you, helping the little ones finger paint and cracking jokes with the older ones.

Robin was right. He was different now. You hadn’t been in close proximity to him since high school, but the change was obvious.

You had to admit you were a bit of a pushover when it came to the kids. If they didn’t tidy up all the way, you usually were happy to let them off, but not Steve. He barred the door as Dustin, Lucas and Mike tried to walk off without washing their paintbrushes. The bond he had with Dustin was kind of adorable. They snarked at each other constantly.

When the kids were gone, and it was just you and Steve left, cleaning up the last of the equipment, you felt like you had to say something, or else you’d be stuck in an awkward silence forever.

You cleared your throat. “You’re really good with the kids,” you said. “You have such a way with them.”

Steve chuckled, his head tipping forward so that he was looking at the ground.

“I have a lot of experience with babysitting, I guess,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I always seem to be chaperoning somebody or other to the arcade, or the mall, or the movie theatre.”

“Well, you’ve got more patience than me.”

He met your eyes then. “No way. I see the way you handle those kids. You’re a pro.”

Warmth flooded you. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words.

You swallowed. “If you say so.”

“We done with the cleaning?”

“I still need to sweep.” You picked up the broom from where it had been leaning against the wall, and when you turned back, Steve was a foot away from you, reaching for it as well. Startled, you dropped it, but he caught it easily before it could hit the ground.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you,” he said. You let out a breathy, anxious laugh. “How about we make a deal? I’ll do the sweeping, and you can go ahead and save me a seat in the cafeteria.”

Your mouth fell open. It was a tempting offer. Your feet were hurting, and you hated sweeping.

“Come on,” he said, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You did all the hard work today. All I did was fingerpainting.”

You knew that that wasn’t true, but you couldn’t help but be charmed.

“They’re serving the good pasta in the cafeteria tonight,” you said. “The creamy kind. So you better hurry.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” He gave you a mock-salute as you walked out of the art classroom.

The rain had mostly stopped by now, and you were thankful for that. There was a light drizzle, but it was more refreshing than anything.

The path back to the cafeteria was hazardously muddy, so you walked carefully, watching every step.

“You’re such a fucking asshole!” came a shrieking voice, making you jump out of your skin. It was coming from down by the river, just beyond the little clump of trees.

“You little brat,” came a growl, and you recognised the voice of Billy Hargrove. “How come you never show me any fucking respect, Maxine?”

So Billy was arguing with his younger stepsister, Max. That was par for the course. You should keep walking. It was none of your business.

“Because you don’t deserve my respect, shit-for-brains.”

“Get away from those rocks, idiot. You’re gonna get yourself hurt, and you know who will be blamed for it.”

“I don’t care, Billy. Get lost.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you come back here.”

They bickered back and forth at each other. You dithered. You should go to the cafeteria. It was stupid, but you’d promised to save Steve a seat. Chances were that Robin would’ve already done so, but still.

But you didn’t trust Billy. You wanted to make sure Max was okay, because Billy sure as shit didn’t know how to handle her. You had just resolved to go and investigate what was going on when you heard a splash.

“MAX!” Billy’s voice was panicked.

Fuck. That sounded bad.

You sprinted into the trees, throwing caution to the wind. As you ran, trying not to slip or trip and break your ankle, you heard another splash.

You skidded onto the riverbank and almost tripped over Billy’s leather jacket, which was lying haphazardly on the ground. The river was rushing much faster than usual, spurred on by the rain, and there, clinging to a tree branch, were Max and Billy.

“Holy shit,” you said, but you were already taking off your jacket and kicking off your shoes.

They both turned their heads towards you, but Max was hardly keeping her head above water. Billy was holding on the branch with one arm and her with the other.

For a moment, you wondered about running to get help, but then the branch they were holding onto creaked, and you knew there was no time.

You waded into the water. It was bitingly cold, but you barely felt it. The rocks were rough on your feet, as you struggled over to them.

There was a slight bank, where the water was moving slower. The water was about waist deep there, but you were still a good ten feet from Max and Billy.

You met Billy’s eyes. He was watching you, wide-eyed. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him express an emotion that wasn’t anger or cockiness before. He was clearly petrified.

You waded deeper, until the water was up to your armpits. You were closer to them now. You reached out for them, and Billy pushed Max in your direction.

With Billy’s help, you managed to catch hold of her hands, dragging her into your arms.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” you said, trying to soothe her. She was breathing shallowly. “Let’s get back to the shore.”

Wading out was harder than wading in. You managed to get Max’s feet on the ground again, pulling her back into the shallows. As soon as you were sure she wasn’t about to get swept away, you let go of her.

“Are you hurt?” you asked her, and she shook her head. “I need you to run and get Hopper, okay?” She nodded, stumbling out of the water.

You turned back to Billy. He was still clinging to the branch for dear life. You saw that he had managed to drag himself further up the branch, closer to the shallows, but the branch itself still looked very precarious.

His eyes were on you. Watching. Waiting to see what you would do. You wondered if he thought you were going to leave him there. He might think you’d do that, but you never would. He might’ve been an asshole who made fun of you all the time, but you weren’t going to let him drown.

You waded back in, dragging yourself over to the near-end of branch he was clinging to. He was close now, maybe five feet away.

You set your feet apart and held your hand out to him. For a moment, he looked at you, uncertain.

Then he put his hand out. You grasped at it, just out of reach. You were deeper now than you’d wanted to be, but you had his hand now. It was big and cold, covering yours entirely.

“Y/N? Y/N?” From somewhere behind you, you heard Steve calling you. Maybe Max had run into him on her way to find Hopper. You couldn’t risk turning to look at him.

“It’s okay,” you said to Billy. “I’ve got you.”

Then the branch snapped, and the current dragged you both into the deeper water.

Next Chapter

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you

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