#fully just saw another guy on tinder that had his FACE done even

[bibleofficial]

it’s still so funny to me that the british so commonly do the ‘warped tour body suit’ like … it’s bc they want to be visibly tattooed in a country that’s majority of the time cold lol

[novoaa1writes]

candles

image source

pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x reader

summary:

you’ve been feeling strange for the past month, particularly when it comes to dating. 

you do your best to ignore it, thinking it’ll resolve itself on its own—given time, that is.

it doesn’t. 

(and it’s got everything to do with wanda.)

[also available on ao3]

word count: ~5,300

rating: mature

warnings: dark!wanda, NON-CON spanking (with a belt), NON-CON BDSM play, mental manipulation, partial mind control, emotional manipulation, mental coercion, trauma bonding, toxic dynamics, drinking, possessive!wanda, non-con mind-reading, vandalism, adultery (not in reference to you or wanda), brief instances of slut-shaming

notes: [requested by anon] reader’s sexuality isn’t explicitly stated, but ex-partners of different genders are referenced/mentioned

— —

wanda uses a couple bulgarian terms of endearment for reader here, so below is a lil’ list in the order of which they appear.

принцеса | printsesa | princess [feminine term of endearment] мила | mila | honey [feminine term of endearment] любима | lubima | sweetheart [feminine term of endearment]

*note: all of these are exactly one letter away from being precise matches to synonymous terms in russian. HOWEVER, the bulgarian alphabet and the russian alphabet are different—granted, in fairly minor ways. for one, while both are comprised of cyrillic lettering, russian has 33 while bulgarian only has 30.  

— —

You have no fucking clue what’d gotten into you. 

One moment, things were fine—good, even. And the next… well. 

You’ll explain. 

It was something like 11:30 on a Saturday night, and you were drunk. 

Well, not drunk. More like buzzed. 

But whatever, right? Considering the week you’d had, you deserved to let loose, even if only for a night. 

Monday night saw a very angry and decidedly unhinged soccer mom banging on your door, screeching vehemently about the ‘two-faced slut’ who ruined her marriage and demanding to be let in so that she could ‘make her sorry.’ Turns out, the older guy your roommate had been sleeping with as of late was married—not that he’d bothered to share that particular bit of information with her, obviously. 

The two of you spent the better part of the evening barricaded inside, passing a bottle of cheap wine back and forth while trying to explain to the 911 operator that you weren’t messing around, that there really was an angry soccer mom on your doorstep and you were actively fearing for your safety. 

She eventually left around 10:00pm—no thanks to the police, since the 911 operator hadn’t even bothered to give them a call. It wasn’t until the next morning when you left for work that you saw the woman’s parting gift to the pair of you: the word ‘HOMEWRECKER’ spray-painted across the front door in obnoxious red lettering. 

Bye-bye, security deposit. 

That same night, you made your roommate promise to start dating people in a similar age range—because really, the both of you were stressed enough as it was without worrying about coming in between yet another middle-aged couple’s dying marriage. 

The rest of the week wasn’t much better. 

On Thursday, your balding creep of a boss had made yet another blatant pass at you in the workplace, making you seriously consider (and not for the first time) the prospect of just quitting and being done with it. 

Then, at shit o’clock on a Friday morning, you awoke to an urgent phone call informing you that an ex of yours (one you were actually on semi-decent terms with) had gotten into a fairly serious car accident, and still had you marked down as her emergency contact. 

30 minutes later found you showing up at the hospital just moments after your ex’s current girlfriend had arrived, which then prompted the whole ‘you still being your ex’s emergency contact’ revelation when the current girlfriend demanded to know what you were doing there, which ended up being… well, you’ll just say it wasn’t pretty, and leave it at that. 

And your ex was going to be completely fine, anyways. She just had some minor cuts and abrasions, and would need to undergo a fairly minor (read: minimally invasive) surgery over the next couple days. 

Before leaving, you instigated a quick check-in with the doctors to ensure they had everything they needed—which then turned into you providing a list of allergies, as your ex wouldn’t likely be conscious for another couple of hours, and apparently the current girlfriend didn’t know of her sensitivities to penicillin and phenobarbital… which the current girlfriend was less than happy about, if the daggers she glared at you were any indication. 

Whatever. You were just trying to help. 

You thanked the doctors, told them to feel free to call you if anything went awry, then asked if they might tell your ex to call you when she awoke. You thought about offering some words of comfort to the current girlfriend as she sat vigil at your ex’s bedside, but the murderous glower she shot you the moment you got within ten feet of her was more than enough to make you think better of it. 

With that, you left. 

So… yeah. It’d been a shitty week. 

And now, here you were: a girls’ night out at the lively nightclub you and your roommate had scoped out just last weekend, tossing back $12 cocktails and letting the trashy EDM beat blaring over the speakers drown out the rest of your thoughts. 

You’d been feeling a little weird all week—all month, really. 

As far as you were concerned, this was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

 So, when a cute guy wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt that was at least a couple sizes too big yet did well to compliment his well-muscled torso came up to you and started chatting you up at the bar, you didn’t blow him off.

The exact opposite, in fact.

He was nice, and funny, and had a gorgeous smile that made your chest feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol. When he flirted with you, you flirted right back. 

You felt a little guilty for doing so, though you couldn’t exactly put a finger on why that was. Either way, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for very long. 

After all, you’d been feeling hints of that for the past month, if not longer. It seemed to happen whenever you flirted with a cute guy, or went out on another Tinder date with a pretty girl, or even hugged one of your close friends. 

You’d get this painful tightening sensation in your gut, nausea roiling in your abdomen… a distant, lofty voice in your head telling you that this was wrong, that you already belonged to someone else. 

Which was pointless, really. Stupid. 

You were single. 

Your last serious relationship (barring the one with your now-hospitalized ex-girlfriend) had been over seven months ago with an eccentric guy named Lukas. He was kind, well-meaning… a bit of a dork at his very core, but you always found that more endearing than anything else. You’d dated him for four and a half months before deciding to break it off; because as much as you cared for him and enjoyed being around him, you didn’t love him, and you knew by then that you never would. 

You thought about him, from time to time—even missed him now and again.

And yet, the strangest thing about the shameful feeling you’d get whenever your roommate so much as brushed a friendly kiss up against your cheek—it had absolutely nothing to do with Lukas. 

You didn’t know how you knew that, but you did. 

Whatever.

This guy was not Lukas. 

His name was Des—short for Desmond, you learned over your fourth sugary-sweet cocktail of the night. He was charming and slightly foul-mouthed, but conscientious and passably polite where it mattered. He didn’t grope your ass or stare at your tits, nor did he make any lewd commentary about your body in any capacity. 

He also smelled… really good, like Old Spice and spearmint gum and the barest hint of cigarette smoke. 

That was more than enough for you. 

(Whatever, alright? Decent guys were in short supply these days.)

You smiled and let him buy you another drink, even after you’d insisted that he really, really didn’t have to. And when an obnoxious pop song with a beat that was far more catchy than you’d have liked to admit came over the speakers, you let him coax you out to the dance floor with minimal resistance. 

It was… fun. You liked the way his hands rested on either of your hips—gentle, almost careful; holding you like he understood he didn’t have a right to your body, like he was more than content that you allowed him this to even think of demanding any more.

Despite the twinges of guilt flaring in your gut, you let yourself get a little more comfortable… dancing closer and closer to him amidst a packed crowd of writhing bodies, letting your breasts graze up against his chest. 

It was teasing—provocative, even. A test, of sorts—one that Des passed with flying colors. 

He didn’t do a thing to rush you, just kept dancing across from you with his hands on your hips and his darkened gaze on yours—seeming fully content to let you set the pace for the moment. And God, but the way he was looking at you… patient but eager, like he wanted nothing more than to crush your body against his own and grind himself into you like an animal—and yet, still, he held himself back. 

You couldn’t help but find that attractive as hell. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you let your body to press flush against his as you swayed to the beat of the song, not shying away from the slight stiffness you could feel growing against your hip. 

That guilty, nauseous feeling in your gut pulled tighter. 

You ignored it, and, when he leaned a little closer to shout over the deafening music, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”... well. 

You wasted absolutely no time in lunging up on the tips of your toes to capture his lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss, the strobe lights of the club fading into obscurity around you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours—tentative, at first, until you pressed a little harder and traced the seam of his lips with your tongue… and, yeah; that did the trick. 

A moment later, his lips parted to let out a quiet groan directly into your mouth as he began to reciprocate in earnest, setting every nerve ending on your body alight with electrifying want. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a twisted sort of clarity hit you square in the chest—slowly, and then all at once. 

The next bits were something of a blur. 

You tore yourself away from Des, turned to forcibly elbow your way through a floor of grinding bodies. You thought you heard him call out your name, and more than a couple people on the dancefloor turned to glare at you as you rudely brushed past them without care—but, whatever. 

You texted… someone, telling them you were headed back to the apartment, so they shouldn’t bother waiting up. The group chat, maybe? 

And now… Now. 

Before you can blink, the past crashes into the present, and you find yourself back outside in the pitch-black night. 

It’s dark… chilly. A brisk wind catches you the moment you stumble out onto the sidewalk, assaulting every inch of your exposed skin like scores of needles piercing your flesh. You whimper, shudder, and hug your arms around your body—trying to warm yourself back up like a scared little kid who forgot their jacket. 

For the first time that night, you regret the tiny black babydoll dress you’d chosen to wear for the evening—and that’s not even to mention the four-inch heels. 

It’s miserable, to be sure, but you can hardly focus on it for very long. 

No, you have to go somewhere. You feel sick, and cold, and wrong in a way you’re loath to even begin explaining to anyone else. 

And your head… you’re positively aching for something—someone to make this better.

You need… Wanda. 

Yes, Wanda is the person you’re looking for. She can make all of this better. 

You don’t know why, but you’re sure of it. You just need to find her. Hopefully she’s spending the night in her apartment on that super cozy sofa of hers, drinking hot chocolate and binge-watching something on Netflix like the two of you did a couple weeks back. 

A fond grin curves your lips at the recollection as you stumble off down the sidewalk, headed for the nearest subway station. 

Another wintry gust of wind hits you square in the chest, and you pinch your forearm hard, silently willing yourself to focus. 

The station should be less than a block down, if you’re remembering correctly. 

At the next street corner, you manage to brandish your pepper spray in one hand while you rummage around in your purse for your MetroCard with the other. 

It’s cold as hell, and you’re probably a little too drunk to be walking through the City streets alone right now, but you don’t much care. 

All you gotta do is find Wanda. That’s all. 

She’ll make everything better again. 

— —

Where everything else is confusing, there’s one part that seems to make sense—Wanda. 

You nearly pick a fight with the card reader at the subway entrance when it makes you swipe your card three times to let you through, and even the stairs leading down to the lower tracks are more of a challenge than they probably should be… and yet, somehow, the rest of it is blessedly simple. A no-brainer, really.  

You know which train you need to take… the blue one that arrives in four minutes. You know you need to stay on it for five stops before getting off. 

Once you’re up at ground level, you’ll have a short walk ahead of you—one that you know like the back of your hand despite only ever having been to Wanda’s a couple of times. 

You’ll enter Wanda’s apartment building, take the elevator right up to floor four, and boom! Home free. 

You do exactly that.

It takes a short time (thankfully) and there’s not an ounce of uncertainty within you all the while, like you’ve done this 100 times before.  

In seemingly no time at all, you’re there—standing on Wanda’s doorstep, knocking a couple times just beneath the burnished bronze ‘4A’ nailed into her door. 

Your head feels all light and dizzy; you’re still shuddering from the time you spent out in the cold; but—

“One sec!” Wanda’s muffled voice comes from inside, the mere sound of it washing over you like a soothing balm—promising relief. 

You’re safe now. 

You made it.  

— —

The moment the door swings open to reveal a bleary-eyed Wanda Maximoff dressed in tiny grey pajama shorts, an oversized Star Trek T-shirt, and nothing else, it’s like everything falls back into place. 

It’s like… like you can breathe again.

You’re still drunk, and shivering, and more than a bit confused; but now that Wanda’s awake and here and smirking like she knows exactly what’s happening even if you don’t, you feel… better, somehow. Not nearly so lost as you were before. 

“Y/N,” Wanda greets, stepping aside and offering out a hand to help you inside. You’re quick to take it. “I was not expecting you,” she drawls, though everything about her demeanor is saying the opposite as she shuts and locks the door behind you. 

You pay it little mind. “Yeah, I... ” you trail off, turning to face her even as an embarrassed flush warms your cheeks. All of a sudden, you can’t help but feel rather ridiculous for knocking on her door and barging in so late—especially without calling first. “I’m so sorry, I...  I don’t know why I’m here.”

Wanda just tilts her head, appraising you curiously even as the ghost of a knowing smile curves her lips. “Are you sure about that?”

The heat in your cheeks seems to intensify tenfold at that. “I… I need to tell you something,” you hear yourself say, and the moment it’s registered, you realize that it’s true. 

You feel… guilty, all of a sudden. Nauseous, too. Scared. 

You danced with that guy—Des. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… You kissed him. Why would you do that?

In the present moment, Wanda nods, like that makes perfect sense. Like all of this makes perfect sense. 

“Okay,” she acquiesces lightly, flares of crimson flitting through her measured gaze. “Is it something I’ll have to punish you for?”

‘Punish’ me? What—?

You feel Wanda’s presence in your head… inconspicuous tendrils sifting through your thoughts, worming their way through your scattered memories. 

No point in lying. 

“Y-Yes,” you hear yourself say. Much like earlier, it isn’t until the moment you’ve confirmed it aloud that you know it to be true. You danced with someone else. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… kiss you. “I… I’m so sorry, Wanda; I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You see the moment Wanda finds it—your memories of the nightclub. Meeting Des at the bar. Flirting with him… Kissing him. 

The look on her pretty features goes from bemused to disbelieving to absolutely murderous in zero seconds flat, and the realization hits like a freight train that you’re really in for it now. 

Fuck. 

“Go to the bedroom,” she snarls, her typically blue-green eyes burning with scarlet light. “Then take off that slutty dress. I want you on the bed, face down, naked. Do you understand?”

Your head is spinning; confusion rears its ugly head in your gut even as every ounce of your being screams at you to just obey—‘cause if you can just do that, the rest of it will start to make sense. (Maybe.) “O-Okay.”

— — 

You don’t know how you know the way to Wanda’s bedroom, but you do. 

You slip inside a room shrouded in darkness, and no matter how it strains your eyes to look around, you don’t dare turn on the light. 

It’s a modestly-sized bedroom with hardwood flooring, fairy lights along one wall, and an adjoining bathroom just opposite the entrance. There’s a tall, wooden dresser pressed up against the wall directly across from a large, king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all the detail you can manage to make out in the darkness.

Well, either way, you suppose it isn’t really your business. 

Wanda gave you specific instructions, and you intend to follow them. 

Not for the first time tonight, you’re quite happy about the babydoll dress you’re wearing—particularly for how easy it is to pull it up over your head and off, leaving you in panties and a strapless bra in a matter of moments. 

You fold the dress neatly in your hands, then leave it atop the dresser. Your panties and bra come next. In seconds, you’ve formed a small, tidy pile. 

As you step out of your heels and approach the neatly-made bed, you’re struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu… like you’ve done this before.

It lingers in the forefront of your mind as you crawl up onto the bed, biting back a groan at how easily the plush mattress gives way under your hands and knees. 

God, you’d kill to have a nice nap in this absolute cloud of a bed.

You shake the thought off, simultaneously willing the haze of intoxication fogging up your brain to abate.

You’re not here to nap. 

You settle face-down onto the bed, just like Wanda said. You’re careful not to rest your face on the pillows, though, since you have the distinct feeling that’s not something Wanda would want you doing without permission.

Instead, you fold your arms and rest your head atop your forearm, staring straight down into nothing. You scrunch up your features and let out a quiet huff as the black duvet tickles the tip of your nose. 

It smells like her—all of it does. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something indefinable; something that belongs to Wanda, and Wanda alone. 

You feel your body stiffen as a familiar set of footsteps draw near, approaching the room where you lie—naked and vulnerable atop Wanda’s bed.

The patter of Wanda’s gait becomes almost soundless as she enters, circling around the bed over towards the nightstand. You don’t dare to turn your head and watch as she pulls out one of the drawers, rummaging through it until she finds… well, whatever it is she’s looking for, you suppose. 

A moment later, there’s the telltale chk! of a match being struck, and a hiss as the phosphorous tip lights itself aflame. 

It’s quiet for a minute... then two. The only sounds you can hear are your breathing and the strike of a match every time Wanda lights another. 

Gradually, gentle flares of light grow in your periphery, bathing the room in a dim, yellow-y glow. She’s lighting candles—a lot of them. 

You’ve always loved candles. 

A couple minutes later, she’s finished, and she returns to tuck the matchbox safely back in the drawer. 

You lose track of her as she retreats once more, and your mounting curiosity is more than piqued when you hear her rummaging through the dresser near the foot of the bed; still, you don’t dare turn and look. 

Instead, you wait, fetid nausea churning low in your gut, pinpricks of apprehension dancing across every inch of exposed skin. Your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage as she takes something out from the dresser drawer, then shuts it with an audible thud!

You swallow the lump in your throat and urge yourself to focus on your breathing. 

In, out. 

In, out. 

In… out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice comes from somewhere behind you, genuine hurt coloring her hushed tone. 

You have to fight the urge to shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “I… I’m sorry, Wanda,” you say meekly, pathetically, cheeks hot with shame. 

And the worst part? You’re not lying. 

You listen carefully for the sounds of her bare feet padding across the floor as she circles the bed once more, crouching down right beside you in the very corner of your periphery. 

“Look at me,” she orders, gentle yet firm. 

You do. 

The moment you meet her gaze, you can’t help the errant thought entering your mind that she looks so pretty like this—face bare of makeup; long brown hair piled into a messy bun atop her head; dainty features cast into darkened shadows by the low, yellow light of burning candles clustered together atop the nightstand. 

The muted light seems to soften her anger, her pain… allowing her to really look her age for the very first time since you’ve known her. 

“You think too loudly, Y/N.” Wanda’s words are dry, almost teasing as they jolt you back into reality. “Focus on me, please.”

You do. 

“You belong to me,” she asserts after a beat of silence, an uncharacteristically intent and almost solemn look splayed across her dimly-lit features. “I thought you understood that.”

The words confuse you even as they seem to resonate poignantly with some fundamental part of you… a part of you that categorically refuses to be ignored. 

“Wanda…” you trail off, bewilderment and contrition warring violently within your chest until it aches to draw breath. “I’m confused, Wanda,” you whimper out finally, overwhelmed tears burning in your eyes. “I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening—” 

Wanda cuts you off with a derisive snort. “Yes, clearly,” she agrees, her tone ripe with sardonic ire. “You’ve forgotten yourself. You’ve forgotten who owns you.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “Is that why…” You search Wanda’s eyes intently. “... I-I felt sick, an-and… guilty about dancing with Des.”

Something like anger flares in her gaze, hot and bitter, and you have to resist the urge to shrivel beneath it. “That boy had no right to touch what’s rightfully mine.”

“B-But then… why didn’t I remember?” you ask, utterly forlorn. “I-I felt it last weekend, too, but I… I didn’t—” 

“Last weekend?” Wanda repeats, features hardening.

Oh, shit. You feel your cheeks get hot again. “I… I shouldn’t have brought it up, Wan’, I’m sorry—”

“What happened last weekend?” she interjects, her tone cold and hard like a double-edged blade. “You can tell me yourself, or I can start looking.”

You shiver. “I… I went on a-a… a date with a girl that I met online,” you admit, tears welling in your eyes even as Wanda’s jaw visibly tightens. “I-It was just the one time! A-And nothing happened; we didn’t even k-kiss! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t know—”

“Yes. You’re right; you didn’t know.” Wanda stands abruptly, then, and it’s at that moment that you see the folded belt in her hands—thick, worn leather with a sterling silver buckle. 

An icy sense of dread blossoms in your chest, chilling you from the inside out. 

Is she going to—? 

“I was indulgent before… I let you get away with far too much. I will not make the same mistake again.”

With that, she turns to circle back around the bed, the belt buckle audibly jangling in her hands with every step. 

“I have to punish you, принцеса,” she continues, her voice scarcely more than a whisper as she comes to stand near the foot of the bed—and somehow, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no convincing her otherwise. 

She’s going to punish you, and it’s going to hurt. Bad. 

All at once, panic seizes you. You squirm, writhing in an effort to get up and off the bed—

Only to be stopped by tendrils of lurid crimson curling around either wrist, forcing them together just over your head like magic—glowing crimson cuffs holding both arms fast to the headboard. On a whim, you test your legs—tensing and pulling, only to be met with iron-clad resistance encircling either ankle in a tight, unrelenting grip. 

Well, fuck.

“W-Wanda,” you plead, hardly paying any mind to the way your voice trembles. “Please, I—I don’t want—”

“I do not enjoy punishing you, мила,” she laments, almost sounding genuinely apologetic. It tugs at your heartstrings in a curious way—something you really don’t have time to examine right now. “But you did something bad. And when you do bad things, there are consequences. You understand that, don’t you?”

A tear trickles down your cheek, warm and wet as you steel yourself for the first hit. “Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Wanda lauds, and you can’t help the surge of warmth that washes over you at the simple praise—the pride that blooms in your chest at knowing you’ve finally done something right. “Now—try and relax, принцеса, okay?”

It’s all the warning you get before the first blow comes down upon your bare arse with a resounding Crack!

White-hot pain flares across your bottom, racing up your spine like wildfire and tearing a strangled whimper from your throat. 

Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt—

Crack!

Crack!

Holy fuck. 

The impact of the leather against your naked cheeks leaves strips of fire burning in its wake, expelling all the air from your lungs in a choked-out rush. 

“P-Please, no, Wan’,” you beg breathlessly, struggling in vain even as coils of vibrant scarlet hold you fast, “it hurts, please—”

Crack!

“This is for your own good, baby,” Wanda coos, sounding for all the world as though she truly believes every word of it. 

Crack! This one lands directly across your sit spot, ripping a shriek from your lips as molten agony rocks you to your core. 

“Wan’—Fuck, please, no—”

Crack!

“G—God, fuck, pleasestop, please—”

Crack!

“P—Please, hurtssobad, I’m—”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

“FUCK !”

Tears stream down your cheeks, wetting the black duvet beneath your face. You’re absolutely beside yourself with torment, your bare ass aflame with a pain unlike any you’ve ever known. 

Crack!

Crack!

… And the hits just keep coming—raining down stripes of blistering heat across your sore, bruised buttocks; pummeling your throbbing, exposed rear until it feels as though the entire area has just become one puffy, pulsating bruise. 

Crack!

All the fight has completely gone out of you; now, your body completely slack—devoid of any resistance even as every hit seems to sear itself into your impossibly tender bottom like a third-degree burn… The pain is absolutely incredible, unlike any else you’ve ever known.

You’ll do anything—and you really do mean anything—to make it stop. 

“P-P-Please, stop it, Wanda, PLEASE—”

Crack! Another hit directly across your burning sit spot rips a watery sob from your throat, followed by—  

Crack!

Crack!

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from hyperventilating until you pass out. 

Crack!

Agony blackens the edge of your vision, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks as you await another strike… 

But it doesn’t come. 

Wh—?

“Have you learned your lesson, мила?” Wanda asks, and this time, her voice comes from closer… like she’s right beside you. 

You don’t have it in you to be startled when a feather-light kiss lands itself between your shoulder blades, nor when one hand begins stroking up and down your heaving torso in soothing motions. 

“Y-Yes! I—please, God, yes,” you babble, overwhelmed by the sensation of unadulterated pain branding every inch of your battered arse. “I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do it again, Wan’—Won’t ever be with anyone else—jus-just please stop hurting me—I’ll be so good, please—”

“Shh,” Wanda shushes you tenderly. You feel yourself twitch as the mattress suddenly dips beside you. “It’s okay, любима,” she soothes, coming to rest beside you. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

‘Breathe’...

Your pulse thunders in your ears; your ass is on fire with an anguish far beyond your years; and yet, there’s something undoubtedly soothing about her words as they wash over you in gentle waves… something that tells you you’re safe.  

Were you a little more lucid, you might’ve found that quite the nonsensical paradox—this feeling of safety and security with the woman who’d just beaten your arse raw without mercy no matter how you wailed and sobbed and begged for her to stop. 

But as it is, you’re not. 

Instead, you’re just broken and teary-eyed and in pain, and Wanda’s tenderness is a most welcome respite to alleviate that excruciating ache. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath, even if it burns your lungs something awful, and force yourself to let it out slowly. 

In, out. 

In, out.

In… out.

“That’s it, мила,” Wanda praises gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing so well… Just like that.” Her fingers come to rest beneath your chin, urging you to turn and face her…

And you do, far too exhausted to even think of doing anything other than what she tells you to. Your lungs burn; your nose runs; and the pain in your bottom hasn’t abated any—if anything, it’s intensified.

You’re more than happy to be given something else to focus on.  

When you look at her, her blue-green eyes are wet—glossy with tears.

“Wanda?” you manage weakly, feeling your brow crease with worry. “You ‘kay?”

Wanda sniffles, huffs out a watery-sounding laugh. “Yes, Y/N, I’m alright,” she whispers, then leans forth to plant a gentle kiss upon the tip of your nose. “I’m just so very, very proud of you.”

Despite yourself, you feel a pleased flush spread throughout your body at that. “Really?” you mumble, exhaustion drooping your eyelids until it’s a challenge just to keep them open. 

Wanda nods, a tear sliding out of her eye that you yearn to reach forth and catch with your thumb—but alas, you’re far too weak. “Really.” 

You hum, burrowing your face further into the duvet beneath your cheek—even if it is still damp with your tears. “‘M sorry I was bad, Wan’,” you murmur, feeling darkness near on every side. “Didn’t mean’ta make you upset.”

“I don’t like punishing you, принцеса,” she says once more, and this time, you have no reason to doubt that she means it. Honestly, you don’t know how you ever could. “It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

You hum again. Your eyelids feel too heavy to open. “‘M sorry,” you say. “Gonna do better… make you proud… I promise.”

Wanda chuckles. The sound of it makes your chest feel loose and warm and happy. “You already do, darling girl,” she murmurs. You don’t know if it’s because she’s whispering, or you’re fading into sleep, but you can barely hear her when she repeats it once more: “You already do.”

Sleep descends upon you, then, and you succumb to it willingly, feeling safer and more at peace than you have in a very long time. 

— —

tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui​

— —

end notes: yeah i don’t know what this is either. i was only aiming for maybe 1,000 words or something, but things happened and...

look. i haven’t been to therapy in a hot minute, ok?

link to masterlist

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[spnirwin]

Something Beautiful

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word Count: 1,900

Warnings: Mentions of death

A/N: Here’s a small dose of angst for your Saturday night! I apparently love making people feel a little sad, myself included. But hey, who doesn’t love a comforting Eddie?!

“Seriously, you guys, just shut up!” you said to your friends. You rolled your eyes at the six people whose faces were scrunched together on your phone screen. They were all vying for your attention, shouting over one another for a chance to be heard. 

“All I’m saying is,” your friend Casey said as she ripped the phone away from the others, “that you should give it a chance. Even if it turns into a one night thing.”

You shook your head in response to her suggestion. “I am absolutely not joining Tinder. And besides, I don’t…” you trailed off into silence. 

“You have to try again eventually.” Casey’s voice had softened while she spoke. “You can’t hang on to Jack forever. It’s been almost a year now.”

“Listen, I’m just not ready, okay?” you said, frustration seeping into your voice. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, it’s almost time for my shift.”

Casey took the phone back over to the rest of your friends as you stepped out of your car. You grabbed your duffle from the backseat and began walking up the driveway to the 118. Your friends continued chattering at you as you stepped inside, reached your locker, and began setting your things inside. 

“Hey guys, I gotta go,” you said, interrupting the current story being told. After another minute full of goodbyes and “I love you’s,” you finally hung up the phone. 

“They seem like a rowdy bunch,” said a voice beside you. You jumped, not realizing anyone was there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie chuckled. 

“It’s okay,” you replied, slightly breathless. “Yeah, they’re loud but they’re pretty great. They’re my old crew from back in Florida, actually.”

“Oh.” Eddie raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. “I didn’t realize you still spoke to them.”

“We’re pretty close. A little distance isn’t going to change that.” You shrugged, turning to face Eddie fully. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave Florida then? It clearly wasn’t a work issue,” he said, gesturing towards your phone. He seemed genuinely curious, but you weren’t ready to give him a straight answer. 

“I was running,” you said softly. “But that’s a story for a different time.” 

Eddie gave you a knowing look. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

You gave him a small smile before turning and walking out of the room. As you went you reached up, searching for the chain hanging around your neck. When you found it you gripped the ring it was attached to, an instant feeling of calm washing over you. 

—

The 118 had been the place you called home for three months now. You had been convinced that a fresh start was what you needed, but being away from all of your friends and family in Florida had taken its toll on you. Your new crew had seen you struggling and taken it upon themselves to help ease your transition.

The level of gratitude you felt towards them for that act of kindness was unparalleled, but you felt guilty at the same time. They had no idea they were only getting a surface level version of you. You had walls built up so high that they didn’t even have a chance of reaching the real you on the other side. 

“So, you got any fun plans after shift?” You looked up from the journal you were scribbling in as Buck slid into the seat across the table from you. You were sitting in the kitchen, with everyone else in various positions throughout the room. 

“Nope, not today,” you replied. “I’ll probably just go home and catch up on some things I’ve been putting off. Like the massive pile of laundry sitting next to the washing machine.”

“Oh, come on!” Buck threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s Saturday, you should be doing something fun. At least come out with us tonight. We’re going over to that bar on 24th Street to grab some beers. It’ll be fun.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes in response. 

“You should definitely come!” Hen agreed as she walked by. 

“Yeah, you never hang out with us!” Chimney’s voice had a noticeable whine to it and you found yourself on the verge of another eyeroll. 

“Lay off guys,” Eddie piped up from his position on the couch. “She’ll join if she wants to. I’m sure you pressuring her doesn’t make her want to come any more.”

You shot him a grateful look and he smiled in response. When you turned back to Buck you found him smiling, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“We’ll see,” you sighed, and, sensing victory, he pumped his fist in the air. 

—

You took a deep breath as you approached the bar. Pausing in front of the doors, you looked up at the sign. It was named “Jack’s,” and you shook your head. It seemed there was no escape no matter how many miles you traveled. 

With another deep inhale you reached forward and pulled open the door. You spotted everyone immediately. They were the largest, loudest group in the small bar. You stepped into the room and caught the eye of Bobby. He shouted and waved you over and you complied, crossing the room quickly. 

You slipped into an empty seat next to Eddie as everyone greeted you. As you got settled he leaned closer and whispered to you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too,” you replied with a smile. 

As the night progressed you found yourself loosening up with every sip of beer. By the time 10:00 had rolled around, mostly everyone had dispersed to various corners of the room to play pool or darts. Only you and Eddie remained seated at the table, chairs now turned to face each other. 

“So, are you ready to tell me that story yet?” Eddie inquired, shooting you a look. 

You sighed, picking at the label on your beer bottle. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“You’re gonna have to tell it eventually, right?” Why not now? It’s just us here.” You looked up at him and found him looking back at you earnestly. 

“Okay,” you said, setting your beer down on the table. You chose your words carefully, unsure of where to begin. “When I graduated from the academy four years ago, I got super lucky with my placement. I got put at a firehouse in Tampa, Station 154. The crew there was amazing. They welcomed me into their family instantly, not unlike you guys.” You paused, gesturing around you. 

Eddie nodded with a smile and you continued. “I fit in there well, and grew to love each and every member of that crew. Some more than others.” A short laugh huffed out of you. “I started dating one of the other firefighters, Jack. He was my entire world. It was the best day of my life when he proposed to me. And then he died.” 

The words rushed out of you, unstoppable now that they had started. “It was a car accident. He didn’t even get to go out on duty. No, instead it was a thunderstorm. He hydroplaned, and it sent him into the other lane.” 

Despite your best efforts at holding them back, tears began to drip slowly down your cheeks. Eddie reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “After that I saw him everywhere I looked. In our apartment, at work, at the grocery store. No matter where I went memories followed. I knew that if I wanted to survive Jack’s death I needed a fresh start. So I did what millions of people have done, and I came to LA.”

“Hey, I get it,” Eddie said. “I did the same exact thing, you know that.” You looked over at him and nodded. He had told you the story of how he and his son, Christopher, came to be in LA a while ago. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. Losing someone you love is never easy, but I’m proud of you for having the strength to tell me about it.”

A few more tears slipped down your cheeks as you gave him a small smile. “Thanks for listening. I haven’t talked to anyone about it that didn’t experience it with me. Saying it out loud like that definitely helped.” 

“I’m glad,” he said. “Hey...I have an idea. Want to get out of here? I have something I want to show you that I think will make you feel a little better.”

—

Twenty minutes later you were walking with Eddie down Santa Monica Pier. Despite having been in California for months, you hadn’t explored anything outside of the neighborhood surrounding your apartment. While you looked around you in awe, Eddie looked only at you. Despite having gone through some trials of his own, he couldn’t believe how strong you continued to be after losing your fiancé. 

You spent three hours exploring the pier, walking around and talking. As the night stretched on towards 2 AM Eddie made the executive decision to head home. He drove you straight to your apartment, declaring that it was too late for you to drive and he would help you get your car in the morning. 

He pulled up to your apartment building and put his truck in park. You took off your seatbelt, simultaneously turning to face him. “Thank you for tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time.”

You reached out and laced your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled in response, no words needed. 

You pulled your hand away from his and opened the door. “Drive safe, okay?” you said before closing the door and walking into your building. 

He watched you walk up the steps and made sure the doors closed safely behind you before driving away. 

—

Over the course of the next several weeks you found yourself growing closer to Eddie with every waking minute you spent together. It was as if the night on the pier was a turning point and you were now sliding closer to something beautiful. 

You found yourself engaging in hidden looks and discreet touches throughout the course of your shifts together. Eddie was letting you take the reins, and for that you were appreciative. You hadn’t expected to be feeling this way for someone again so soon, but here you were anyway. 

You were once again standing outside of your apartment building, this time with Eddie joining you on the front steps. He was dropping you off after one of your now standard post-shift breakfasts. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he chuckled. 

“What?” You snapped back to reality and looked into Eddie’s amused eyes. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how I really want to kiss you right now.”

You took a step towards him and his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, a concerned look in his eyes. 

You nodded as you stepped impossibly closer. “Positive.” 

He smiled as you leaned up and pressed your lips to his for the first time, a new beginning on the horizon. 

—

[readbyred]

Just a self-insert story

It's not romantic, it has some CharTed implications but nothing involving my s/i. It's just a vent, sort of, because well it's always nice to get it all out and have someone take my side (even if I'm not really in the right here).

What you need to know about my s/i is that she’s fairly new in the office and her name is R.J because I’m red and ‘J’ seemed to sound the best in there so her middle name is Julie now.

The story is long and was written as a dialogue-stylised vent. The rest was written after I finished and the quality varies. Also there is cursing and a sappy, probably rushed ending. I hope it's not that ooc but you know how it is.

Julie rarely came out to the balcony unless she needed something from a friend of hers. Today was one of those days so when she realized that Charlotte was nowhere near in sight she made her way out. What she didn't expect was to see Ted standing there with her, also smoking. He rarely did, mostly he would just lock himself in his office and do whatever.

The two weren't talking, being completely honest Julie had realized some time before, that something must have shifted, when she first came into work they seemed pretty close but lately they distance themselves from each other. For a moment she paused unsure if she should touch on the subject that was the reason of her talk around their coworker but in the end she approached them anyways.

“Could we talk for a moment?” she leaned over standing between them and looking at the road beneath.

“Oh sure! Here or...?” Charlotte threw a quick glance at the man behind Julie who not so discretely began showing signs of interest in whatever the topic of the conversation was.

“Yeah it’s no secret. I just want to get something off my chest. It's about Adam” she said his name quietly in a suvgestive tone, as if she tried to censor herself although the three of them were the only ones around.

“What is it? I must warn you I'm not good at advice, but I’ll still listen if you want me to” giving her a weak smile the woman waited.

“We’ve been going out lately. You know how it is” Ted now fully turned his head towards them not hiding that he was in fact listening but Red didn't notice still looking at the cars passing by.

“That engineer guy? Aww, congratulations!” feeling a hand on her shoulder Julie looked up but the smile she gave Charlotte wasn't sincere, it was just tired.

“Oh, thank you it's just... Oh well no need to get all sappy, I know, but I can't help but feel some sort of way about it” she shook her head at her visibly concerned friend ” Don't get me wrong he’s lovely! I'm just being silly”

“Well, I could help you, I have some experience in relationships-”

“Yeah, lots of it...” Ted started bitterly walking up to the two talking women “Anyways, yeah sure tell us about your perfect, dream guy. What problems could you have if he’s so great”

“Ted-” Charlotte shot him a look.

“Unless he’s not. Didn't you say he went out for a ‘business meeting’ again?”

“Yeah, about that...” Julie looked down.

“What about it?” Charlotte turned her attention away from their coworker yet again.

“So” Julie began “I don't know what we are, it's all complicated lately”

“Oh I'm sorry to hear that, I've been through rough times with my Sam and I could help you some or recommend a professional?” as soon as Charlotte said the word ‘professional’ Ted opened his mouth say something but quickly shut it.

“I appreciate that but I'm afraid it's far beyond just rough. He’s great! Things are just getting bizarre. I mean we haven't been properly dating since last year before I came to work here, you know? He was so thoughtful and, oh, so charming and goodness gracious, I was awful. I broke things off” her mood shifted from nervous to upset, fiddling with her hands she continued to intensely observe the cars passing by “He didn't take that well, I can't blame him cause I know I shouldn't have done it. He was sad a lot and it made him so... Angry at times, at our mutual friends and all. He told me he doesn't wanna see me, to get out of his life. We’ve known each other since diapers, I know I deserved everything he said it just... Hurt, you know? Oh how selfish I must sound!”

“But you two are still talking aren't you? So it all must have been fixed?” Charlotte offered her a smile “Me and my husband don't argue that openly, I think, so I might not be able to relate here but if you’ll tell us more I'm sure we can figure something out”

“Really thank you. Both of you. Here I am taking away your lunch break with all my silly ramblings” shaking her head a bit she gave both of them the same sad smile she had before. It was then when they noticed she seemed to have shrunken in herself, not only tired but also strangely worried.

“No problem, it's not a big deal I'm sure” her coworker tried to reassure glancing up “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah could you just move on with the story?” it seemed like it took all his inner strength for Ted not to leave although neither of the women understood why would that be. Charlotte knew he was like that sometimes, when she tried to talk about Sam with him it went pretty similar. That didn't mean however she understood more of it than Julie did “You broke up. He started acting like a jerk”

“Oh he didn't, I had no right to hurt him like that! And he’s not a jerk, far from it. He’s so thoughtful, so protective. Everyone I know wants nothing more for us than to be together. You know how I am... I get a lot of silly ideas, I can get pretty nasty, that you probably noticed. Adam doesn't like that one bit, I embarrass him a whole lot doing things without asking and all that. My friends noticed that too, they say I'm much more pleasant when I'm with him, he tames me, if you will. I know I give him a lot of crap for that, sometimes I feel like I either agree with him or am just wrong and he doesn't take my suggestions to heart but we talked recently, this weekend actually, he made me realize that I need improvement and-” she didn't look neither of her colleagues in the eye. Charlotte understood, she got nervous like that too and decided to give the redhead some space “here I go ranting about details again don't I? Oh, well, on with the story you say? Well, he stopped talking - I was a wreck. But gradually - when he came back from his business trip after summer - I saw him around Beanies a lot. Always on my lunch break, you know? And we got to talking and he asked what are we. I was surprised, I told him that we’re no longer together, he asked how so and one thing led to another he said it was just a break! I was... Surprised? But it was so nice to see him so happy. And Zoe told me to get him back, then. And I was so awful - I told her I don't want to live like that anymore. With him. But luckily we didn't stop hanging out, me and Adam that is. At first I was grossed out to be treated as such, afterall I said I want to be single. But he kept on pushing and that way around December we sort of got back”

“Why didn't you tell us that, congratulations!” Charlotte’s weak cheer brought a small smile on Julie’s face but it soon vanished when the other one of her two friends spoke up.

“Yeah, congratulations for dating a pushy asshole-” Ted paused frowning even more as if he said something wrong “...you could do better than that”

He turned to leave frustrated with Julie.

“Please stay” Julie fully turned from the railing and gave him a pleasing look “I... I'll get to the end soon, I want your perspective on that as well”

“Ugh fine... Just don't expect me to take this douchebag’s side”

“It’s nice to get to hear your opinion as well. As selfish as it sounds I think like that too sometimes, it's... Refreshing not to be in the wrong all the time even if I am” shaking her head she changed the subject “Oh, right! As I was saying. We had a talk then and he asked me what would I do if he started seeing someone. After all if I don't consider us a pair then he may. I told him that I'm fine with that, after all I started this mess, can't blame him if him for getting lonely. And I'm not a saint you see. Goodness gracious don't give my that look Char, I never cheated! I just... Going on and off Tinder, just chatting. It never got any further I swear, I felt so terrible. Anyways, after he told me that he got very... Touchy. And romantic. And I know I ruined the mood but after a few hours, I asked what are we. And he said he could take me back. And no matter how awful I sound I need to admit as wonderful as he is I don't think I want it. And I told him that I want to focus on work”

“But you don't?” it wasn't a secret that R.J wasn't avoiding relationships, not to the point of denying one in favour of work.

“But I don't. I know he’s amazing but I’m not happy. I‘ trying but I'm not. So I said that it’s because of work, I don't know what would he do if I told him the truth! And he didn't really get the work thing either, he’s the traditionalistic type. But! He said he shouldn't have told me about the other woman which is good I think” she bit her lip seemingly gaining a bit of life back “But what is that supposed to mean? That she’s just a concept he’s been contemplating or a human but I shouldn't know? I don't know... Anyways I asked him about what he wants. He’ll take some time to think and for now we agreed I can be sort of his... With him that is. Not that he has to call me his girlfriend. He just can get me places and I don't date or make him jealous with my make friends and stuff”

And with that Julie finished realizing just then that her hands were shaking a bit. It often happened in situations like that, stressing ones like opening up.

“Um, it does sound complicated. I might have to look for the contacts to get you set but you can make it work. I got this good therapist” Ted scoffed “he could give you some directions. Give me a minute and I’ll get back to you I'll forget about it if I’ll do that later, you know”

And with that she rushed out forgetting to get rid of the cigarette she was holding.

“You’ve been awfully quiet” gaining some of her cool back along with colour on her face, Julie leaned back cocking her head and looking at the man in front of her curiously.

“Why do you put up with this? Don't you see this guy’s a duchebag?” he asked frustrated “And don't try to tell me you love him, you said it’s not true”

“I don't. But he has to put up with me, it's a fair deal” she shrugged noticing him grow even more angry at the situation

“Well, I don't know?” he groaned “Maybe find someone who doesn't have to put up with you”

“Look, I-”

“Found it!” Charlotte came back holding her phone with a random phone number opened up on the screen

“Oh thank you a lot! Let me save it on the phone” soon she was done with the whole process “I won't hold you much longer, I'm sure you have work to do”

“Dont worry about it, a little break is always needed. Speaking of which want to go out with us after work? It's going to be Sylvia and Bill, me, Melissa and Ted. It's just for coffee, you know”

“I...” on Fridays she always hung out with Adam, even before things got messy. Looking back at Charlotte to give her phone back she paused. Maybe one day off wouldn't be so bad? “I will, it’s right after work?”

The woman nodded.

“Count me in then” opening the door she paused again, feeling much calmer and lighter after confiding in her coworkers “Oh and you’re finished, right Ted? I need to get you some papers, so stop by my desk, alright?”

“Seriously? Fuck Sylvia, I wash my hands! And besides it’s my office and my right to-”

She didn't hear what was that exactly that he had the right to do, closing the door and laughing to herself. And yes, maybe her love life was a mess but it didn't matter because it seemed that along with her new job she also found friends.

[profiler-in-courage]

I am humbled 16 people have read my Claes Bang detective bullshit lol. Here is Ch. 2 & 3. Long af as always.

(I have yet to think of a title. Someone send me suggestions plz)

Chapter 2. 

The 7th Precinct was a media frenzy when Emerson pulled up. By 8 am, all the local news outlets had received some tip about the latest murders and it looked like all of them had sent a reporter. 

Emerson scanned the outside of the building, trying to find an entrance that wasn’t guarded by media. He stuffed case files he had taken home into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder, ready to walk-sprint. 

He lowered his gaze to the ground. Eye contact was what got you. 

As he reached the sanctuary of a door, he mentally congratulated himself on  avoiding the bombardment of questions he quite frankly, wasn’t prepared to answer. 

He sat his bag on his desk and headed over to Burnham. His sarcastic best friend of seven years always made the morning after a murder less dark.

“Hey Emerson,” Burnham sipped through a mug of milk. 

An unusual quirk about him was that Jacob Burnham simply drank plain milk. Never coffee. 

Whole, 2 percent, 1 percent, nonfat, whatever was in the back office fridge was good enough for him. 

Forty or seven-years-old? Nobody knew Burnham’s true age.

“Forensics came in,” he waved a file at Emerson. “No prints or DNA of any kind, same as always. Christ.”

Burnham shook his dirty blonde head and handed the papers over.

“Fuck Em, we are never going to catch this guy unless he leaves us something.”

Emerson flipped through the forensics report. Like Burnham had described there was nothing of significance. 

“He will eventually slip up, they always do,” he said, trying to be the positive one.

“Did the families have anything to offer?” 

His friend shook his head, “Just the usual. Victims never got into any trouble, well behaved, no enemies. Nothing out of the ordinary. Can’t imagine why anyone would want two 15-year-old girls dead.” 

Emerson’s mind flashed to Abigail. He was afraid for her. She was smart, but he was sure Halley Reece and Melanie Myers had been smart too. Hell, they may have even known his niece. Same high school. 

The image of Abigail lying in a ditch somewhere creeped across his mind. He shut his eyes.

The feeling of dread was slowly worming its way back into his stomach. 

He went back to his desk, dropping the very thin report onto it. 

It barely made a sound. 

He pulled his phone out of his bag. It was the first time he was checking it this morning. 

He was bad at that. 

One text from his sister and one message from Gwyn. 

He opened his sister’s first.

Emerson, the girls they found last night went to Abigail’s school….this just became a little too close for comfort. I almost made her stay home today.

He sighed, not knowing what to say to Eve. Obviously she couldn’t lock Abigail up in the house, the girl had to go to school and have a life. 

You can’t stop living just because of horrors, he thought.

He sympathized with his sister though, he was just as worried for his niece as she was. 

He scratched his eyebrow and opened up Gwyn’s message next. 

G: 203-637-1366

Was that her phone number? He scrolled to see if she had said anything either before or after, but she had not. It was just her phone number. Or so he assumed. 

Quite bold, he thought. But he oddly liked the cut to the chase showing.

“Any luck in that department?” 

Burnham was standing over his shoulder looking down at the open Tinder app.

Emerson slipped the phone into his front pocket, “Not really.”

“I told you to go on that date with Kate’s sister. Who knows, you could be getting laid every night.” Burnham shrugged. 

Emerson scoffed, “Your wife’s sister is 59 remember?”

A stupid smile flashed across Burnham’s face, “Hey but she’s single! And how do you know you don’t like older women?” 

Emerson blinked, at a loss for words. 

“All I’m saying is we could be brother in laws. Take one for the team Em!”

Emerson swiveled to his computer screen.

“I see you enough already,” he grumbled.

Burnham slapped him on the back, laughing softly. 

Emerson poured over the photos on his desk. One of a woman with the soles of her feet skinned to the point where you could see the bone, another with such horrendous strangulation marks around the neck the purple coloration was almost black. Both were women who had been killed by the Creekmore Serial Killer. 

He was deep in thought, trying to see some connection between all the victims, something he did routinely with no success for this case. 

It was like looking at a math problem he didn’t have the formula for. 

The pocket of his dark blue wool button-up buzzed. It was a text from Gwyn. 

G: So what are you looking to get out of a dating app?

Emerson paused before answering, trying to find sufficient words to make “looking to date” sound less horrendous. 

E: Looking to date. What about you?

He figured he may as well just tell the truth. 

G: I’m looking to get absolutely wild in the bedroom. Nothing more, nothing less.

Emerson’s eyebrows sprung up. Maybe he had misjudged Gwyn. He wasn’t looking for just sex. 

Burnham always joked that Emerson should be a priest.

He figured he would wait to respond if he responded at all. The excitement about his new match had been all but snuffed out after her proclamation. 

He pushed his glasses up so they rested on the top of his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt the pang of loneliness he sometimes felt when thinking about his love life. 

He missed his wife. He missed having someone to come home to, talk to, feel beside him as he slept. He missed how he was before. 

Ever since Lyla had passed he had been different. Not as cheerful, not as funny, he actually used to be somewhat of a practical joker. 

He had thought his old self would return after the grieving process was done, yet here he was years later and no relief. 

Lack of female interaction certainly wasn’t helping either. 

Emerson sighed. Maybe he should try the one-night-stand thing. Though the thought of it had always felt awkward. 

Why have sex with someone you hardly know? 

His phone vibrated, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

G: Did I scare you off? I was joking btw. 

He let out a small sigh of relief. Ashamed that he was so bad at the whole dating thing that this one match seemed to be the end all be all. 

E: Sorry, was working. He fibbed. But I am glad to see you won’t objectify me for my body.

G: Well, that’s only because I haven’t seen your body. 

Emerson chuckled. He liked her witty remarks. 

How soon was too soon to ask someone on a date? Were there Tinder rules? Did he care? 

Not really. 

E: How would you like to see it? Fully clothed of course. 

He felt his heart rate pick up. He hadn’t felt excited like this in a long time. 

Of course, that’s when Burnham decided to interrupt.

“Those photos telling you anything yet?” he asked. 

Emerson shook his head, “No unfortunately.” 

His friend sat on the edge of the desk, “This fucking bastard leaves no trace. No DNA. Nothing.”

With the lack of info they had that was all Burnham really ever said about it.

Hard to do, thought Emerson. 

He saw his phone vibrate on the desk.

Burnham’s eyes followed his friend’s. 

“So…you sure Tinder isn’t working out for you?”

Emerson rolled his eyes, “Oh Christ.”

After enduring more teasing from Burnham than he would’ve liked, his fellow detective finally left to go bother someone else. 

Despite the torture that had felt like he was being waterboarded, Emerson had not let anything slip about his potential date. 

Not all things were meant to be shared among friends, not yet anyway. Besides, he had only started talking to her last night. Everyone needed to relax, him included. 

He opened her message. 

G: I would love to. Name a time and place and I’m there.

Chapter 3. 

Coffee. That wasn’t too casual and not too formal right? Or so Emerson hoped. 

So here he sat at some local place downtown. Waiting and a bit nervous. 

He heard the door open and he saw her. His eyes followed hers as she looked around for her date. 

He lifted his finger slightly. 

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she said as she sat down across from him. 

Emerson tilted his head in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

She smirked, “That you look exactly like your photos.” 

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Have you been on many dates where that wasn’t the case?” 

She ran a hand through her long hickory colored hair, “More than I’d like.” 

Gwyn looked exactly as she had in her photos too. Emerson hadn’t even considered the possibility that she wouldn’t. 

Which he probably should have considering he met her online. 

He studied her. She was staring at him, looking him up and down. He smiled, amused. 

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. 

“I would,” she said. 

Emerson waited for her to say what she wanted. A few seconds went by. 

This is awkward, he thought as his eyes darted from side to side. 

He cleared his throat. 

“What would you like?...” he asked.

Gwyn smiled mischievously, “You're a detective. Read me. What do you think my order is?”

Interesting, he thought. 

He tilted his head slightly, finally drinking in everything about the woman who was across from him. 

She was wearing a tight black turtleneck, dark blue jeans, and a silver chain-linked bracelet. 

Her makeup was simple, she didn’t need much of it. She was naturally beautiful. Her hair had a shine to it and it curled into a slight wave. 

She had with her a plain black satchel. Big enough to fit only a wallet and a phone and possibly a few other womanly essentials. 

She was simple. But, sophisticated. At least that is what her appearance told him. 

Emerson remembered that her bio had said she was an artist. Which must mean she was somewhat serious about coffee. Not the frappuccino type. 

But, there was a softness to her. She didn’t appear to take herself too seriously, judging from her text messages. 

So probably not black coffee. 

Gwyn waited patiently for him to finish his assessment. A hint of a smile on her lips. 

“I think I got it,” Emerson said as he turned to walk towards the counter. 

“Hi, can I get one iced hazelnut latte and one hot Americano with cream please,” he told the barista. 

Emerson turned to look back at Gwyn. She was far enough away so she wouldn't have heard the order. 

He wanted to see her shock when she found out he was right. He was certain he was. 

He smiled to himself. 

He walked back to their table with the drinks. Gwyn was sitting looking bemused. Her legs crossed, her eyes following his every move.

“So, what did you decide for me?” she asked. 

Her voice was soft. He liked it. It reminded him of the way a stream sounds in a quiet forest.

Emerson said nothing. Just simply handed her the drink. 

Her eyes sparkled as she took it from his hand. Her gaze holding his. 

For a moment, he thought he might have gotten her wrong. 

Gwyn took a sip of the Americano and raised her eyebrows. 

He could tell she was trying to hide her amazement. She didn’t want to give him complete satisfaction and he liked that. She was fun.  

“Well Detective Woods, I suppose you are very good at your job then,” she smiled. 

Emerson beamed.

“Only a little,” he said as he took a sip of his latte. 

Gwyn let out a small laugh, shaking her head, “Is it too soon to say I already want to see you again and this date has been what, 10 minutes?” 

He looked at her over his straw. He felt the same. 

He felt something. For the first time since his wife.

“Now let me do you,” she said. 

Emerson paused, “What…”

“Let me read you,” said Gwyn, sipping her coffee. 

He sat back, trying to hide a smile, “Alright.”

Gwyn rubbed the bottom of her chin with her thumb as she studied the man across from her. 

He was handsome, that much was obvious. Rugged around the edges but not sharp, which was good. It made him look kind. 

He was wearing a grey quarter-zip pullover sweater, the beginnings of a burgundy collared shirt peeking out. His tortoise shell glasses made him look like he could be walking the halls of Oxford and be at home. 

Faded dark green pants with...were those cowboy boots? Interesting. 

So he wasn’t from Connecticut. 

The eyes behind the glasses were dark yet welcoming. A few days old stubble coated his face. 

His hair, thank god he had a full head of it, was dark. Perfectly styled in the ever popular comb over. 

It was too long for him to be ex-military but short enough that she could tell he liked things neat. Gwyn couldn’t quite tell if it was black or just a very dark shade of brown. 

Luckily they were seated by a window and he moved ever so slightly so that a ray of sunshine hit him. 

Midnight brown, was that a color? It was now. Silver bits were beginning to show their glint throughout Emerson’s hair.

If she was being honest he didn’t look like a police detective. They usually were only this good looking in movies. He could have been a writer or a professor that female students day dreamed about. 

The cowboy boots were throwing her off. 

Was he Texan? 

She didn’t remember hearing an accent, but then again they had only said a few sentences to each other. 

And yet, she knew she wanted a second date. She needed to impress him. She didn’t know she already had.

“Judging from your boots you aren’t from here, I’ll be generic and guess Texas?”

He nodded, waiting for Gwyn to continue. 

“You’re smart, otherwise you wouldn’t be a detective and you most certainly would not have gotten my order right. You're patient, you would have to be to be willing to sit here right now and listen to me.” 

Emerson chuckled, taking another sip of his latte. 

Gwyn continued, “Your eyes are hard but your face is gentle. You have seen and been through monstrous things but you don’t let it affect your character. You’re quiet, which leads me to believe you’re polite. Which is good because I can’t stand loud boisterous men.” 

Emerson leaned forward. He hadn’t expected her to be this good. 

“Between the way you look and my expectation that you are a good man, you must be single for a reason. So, I am guessing your ex either was unfaithful or died.” 

Gwyn was blunt. Emerson didn’t know how he felt about that. 

He scratched his cheek, “She passed away.”

Gwyn looked down at the table, confidence leaving her for only a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

Emerson shrugged, “But you were right.” 

Gwyn smiled softly. 

He could tell she enjoyed being right. Though not with a haughty arrogance. He respected that. 

“And how did you learn to read people so well? Are you an ex detective?” he asked, amused. 

Gwyn twirled a strand of hair in her fingers, “It’s not hard to see what people project.” 

Emerson smirked, nodding. 

Oh she’s very smart, he thought. 

They talked for hours after conducting their own way of breaking the ice. Gwyn could now hear the hint of an accent. 

They discussed movies, music, food, books, especially books. 

She liked nonfiction. He preferred fiction. 

Emerson was entranced with the way Gwyn spoke. Her words were light but intelligent. And she held eye contact. 

She had already assessed why he was single. So why was she?

He continued to study her. 

Her posture was welcoming, her sentences were flirtatious, but her expressions were guarded. 

Guarded meant she had been hurt before. Most likely multiple times. 

Though with an open posture, not physically. 

He couldn’t detect anything to signify she was nervous. She hadn’t been the entire date. She was confident. She could have anyone she wanted. 

So why didn’t she? 

“Figured me out yet?” she asked, pulling Emerson out of his thoughts. 

He looked down, embarrassed. 

“Not quite,” he smiled.

“Good. I need you at least intrigued enough for a second date,” she said. 

“Possibly more,” said Emerson, playfully reaching.

“Possibly,” Gywn responded, her eyes dancing.

She leaned forward on the small circular table. 

“Emerson Woods you are something.”

He winked. It made her laugh. 

“As much as I would love to talk with you all day, I should be going,” she said. 

Emerson nodded. He probably should too. They had spent nearly three hours in this coffee shop. 

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, wanting every second he could with her. 

She turned to him, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder. 

“Oh there is no need. I took an Uber, car’s in the shop after a very nasty old woman felt the need to rear end me.” 

Emerson laughed. He could offer her a ride. Should he?

“Would you like me to track her down for you? I could probably find something to pin on her,” he said, glancing down at where her hand had just been. 

She giggled, rolling her eyes, “Could you please? She’s costing me 400 dollars.”

They walked outside. It was overcast and there was a slight breeze. Emerson watched her hair lift in the wind. 

Before she could take out her phone to call an Uber, Emerson walked over to the passenger side of his car that was parked along the curb. He opened it. 

“I promise you’ll have a more enjoyable experience with me rather than someone you don’t know. If you’ll allow me.”

Gwyn bit her bottom lip, raising her eyebrows, “But I don’t know you. Not really.” 

Emerson paused. She was right. Three hours of conversation didn’t exactly mean they knew each other. And with the Creekmore Serial Killer making headlines for months, she was probably wise to refuse him. 

“I suppose that’s true,” he said. “Though I am a policeman,” he kept his hand on the door handle. 

She bopped her head from side to side, feigning weighing her options. 

“Can I rate you if you're a bad driver?” she joked, stepping over to the car.

Emerson chuckled, “I promise to be extra careful with you.”

[simonxriley]

Deputy Maci Dalton x Sharky Boshaw

A fan whirred in the corner of a small room with a plain bed; a bed which contained two figures under the sheets. Deputy Maci Dalton and her lover Sharky Boshaw were in haphazard positions, a leg flung out in the open here and an arm tossed over the edge of the bed there. Maci’s eyes fluttered open, bleary from sleep as she brushed chestnut hair from her face and glanced at her companion who was still soundly asleep. His strong features so lax in his slumber, the deputy couldn’t help but smile while tracing a finger down his jawline. His nose scrunched up and he shook his head lightly. “That tickles…” He murmured, eyes staying shut. “Sorry, you’re too handsome to resist.” She replied and her finger trailed lower to his collarbone, tracing the raised sections with a feather touch. A deep chuckle rose from him and his eyes opened slowly, “Right back at you… minus the handsome part.” 

The deputy swiftly climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. “What if I wanna be handsome too?” She asked and leaned over him, her hair creating a curtain on either side of them. “Then you can be handsome.” Sharky rose up to meet her lips unexpectedly, his hands tangling easily in her hair as they share a soft embrace. When they parted, their features were both spread wide in sleepy grins. 

Soon, the pair were both standing and throwing on something to wear to prepare for another day in Hope County. “So, what’s the agenda today?” Sharky asked while tugging a pair of blue jeans over his cartoon print boxers. 

“I’m gonna ask Mary May if she’s heard anything on her end, but other than that I don’t have anything I have to do.”

“Well, maybe you could come with me today to throw back a few beers and catch some rainbow trout? I found a great spot just south of the Rye’s.” The man was calling out from the en suite, where he was trying desperately to smooth his hair down before putting on his signature ball cap. Deputy Dalton considered this a moment, “If Mary May doesn’t have anything for me, I’m down!” She decided. The Resistance had been working her quite hard lately, so what was the shame in taking a vacation day with her boyfriend? After grabbing a dark green flannel to go with her jeans and white tee, she decided that would do and opened the creaky door to the upstairs hallway. Her hiking boots took each step carefully, as she knew Mary May was a little behind on repairs with the whole cult business. 

“Morning barkeep!” Maci called and stepped into the quiet din of the bar, which already had patrons at 10am. Sharky made significantly more noise as he followed her path down the stairs, and headed straight for the bar. Mary May stood there with a washcloth in one hand and a beer in the other, looking the part. “Morning sleeping beauty, I thought deputies would wake up earlier.” She chided while setting the cloth down in favour of another cold beer, which she promptly handed to them as they both took a stool. “Yuck it up, a girl needs her rest after spending all her days kicking peggie ass,” Maci took the beverage happily- nursing it as she got to her point “So, you keep your ear to the ground, heard anything new lately? Or do I officially have a free day?” 

“No news here, looks like it’s all you!” She confirmed, holding up a finger to them as she moved to the other side of the bar to help some other patrons. Maci turned to Sharky with a satisfied look as she took another swig from the bottle. “Looks like I’m all yours today!” She winked playfully. “Lucky me, you’re awful hard to book nowadays.” He replied and downed the rest of his drink before standing abruptly, and taking her hand “You ready to go? I’ve already got some rods in my truck.” The brunette nodded, tipping her bottle up more to finish off the bitter alcohol. “Let’s hit the road Jack!” She hopped off the stool, following him out the door to his Jeep. 

  The Jeep peeled out of Fall’s End and proceeded to barrell down the uneven dirt road, Maci held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, saying “Jesus, Sharky! Do you always have to drive like a maniac?” He looked over to her, taking his eyes completely off the road, “Yes I do, caution when driving is not a necessity, like my grandma used to say!” 

“The same grandma who said ‘suns out, guns out’?” 

“The one and only. R.I.P. Nana Boshaw!” He called out, taking a hand off the wheel to gesture to the sky and causing the car to swerve violently. The deputy grabbed hold of the wheel, which allowed Sharky to do the whole Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. “You’re crazy..” She gave him a playful glare until he grabbed the wheel once more. “Okay, okay I’ll try to slow it down.”  She shook her head, a smile on her features nonetheless as they careened towards the fishing hole. 

  When they finally arrived, the smell of grass and water permeated the air, it was sweet and outdoorsy. They parked at the trailhead that led down to the lake, stepping out of the vehicle as dust clouds settled from Sharky’s abrupt stop. “So, what’re we fishing?” Maci asked, slipping her hand into his. “Rainbow trout, the gayest kind.” He responded in a serious tone, causing her to giggle. The two of them grabbed all of their supplies, a backpack and two woven lawn chairs.

Stepping out into the open- they saw the wide Henbane river stretching on in a blue line for miles in either direction. “I’ve always loved this river. Fishin’ here with my ma, hunting the deer that drink at the shore with my dad.” Sharky reminisced while handing Maci her pole, and setting down the green backpack. “It is beautiful, it’s one of the first things that drew me in when I came here.” Maci responded thoughtfully and watched him unzip the backpack and pull out a round white container. “Got worms?” Sharky asked and held the container next to his face like an advertisement. The couple shared a laugh and Sharky pulled out a worm for each hook. 

They dipped their lines in the water, watching the white twine disappear in the murky depths held afloat only by a bobber. “Now we wait.” Maci said, pulling up one of the chairs they’d brought as Sharky mirrored her. The clouds floated slowly through the bright blue sky, and the sun shined down on them with just enough heat. It was an idyllic afternoon. Maci’s bobber ducked under water for a moment, only to rise again. She grabbed the tiny handle on her rod and reeled in slowly, enticing the trout to try for her bait again, the effort was shown to be successful as the bobber disappeared once more, and she yanked the rob upwards to hook the fish, exclaiming “I got one!” 

“Oh shit, way to go baby!” Sharky cheered her on while she spun the handle, pulling the fish closer and closer to the shore. They could see it thrashing in the water- making frothy waves. Seconds later, it’s gleaming pink and green scales shone in the bright sunlight as it flopped around in the air. Maci grabbed the line, pulling the fish over to grab it by the gill and fiddle with the hook, “Good thing this guy isn’t a messy eater, I wasn’t wanting to pull the hook from his mouth.” She commented and pulled the hook from it’s lip. “Good thing you’re such a fishing pro, look at this guy!” Sharky mused and gave her a proud smile. The trout was about 12 inches in length, and thick. “Yeah what can I say, I’m just that good.” Maci boasted jokingly, “What do you say we cook this bad boy up?” She asked him. The man nodded, saying “I’ll get the fire going!” and set his rod down to go to the treeline for tinder. She took the fish over to a beached log nearby, setting the now unmoving body down and pulling out her pocket knife to descale and clean it. 

Once the fish’s skin was fully exposed and the fillets were visible, she drew her knife right against the spine and cut off sections handing them to Sharky. “Man, why is fish so good but so gross?”  He pondered and pierced the sections on a stick, roasting them over the fire he’d produced rather quickly. “Looks like you don’t even need a flamethrower.” She said, tossing the skeleton and scraps into the reeds. “They don’t call me a pyromaniac for nothing!” He joked and set one of the now crispy fillets on a plate he’d drawn from the backpack. “This smells so good, I can’t wait to dig in!” She said and took a seat adjacent to him, and he handed her a beer to match his own that he’d produced from a cooler in the back of the Jeep.

As soon as the fillets were done- they both grabbed their share and snarfed it down. “A beer does not a breakfast make.” Maci said and popped the last savory piece of meat into her mouth. “I personally think I could live off of beer.” He replied with a shrug. “That’s because you have a problem, man o’ mine.” She said and gently punched his arm. 

“You may think I got a drinking problem, but I’ve got no problem drinking at all.” He said, his voice a little muffled from the meat in his mouth. He washed it down with some beer and leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach. “I’m positively stuffed!” Maci nodded, taking a drink from her own bottle and looking into the dwindling fire. “Too bad you didn’t catch anything.” She said, glancing at him. “Why would I need to catch anything when I’ve already got you?” He asked with a goofy grin, and held out his hand. She took it with a smile of her own, the heat from the fire not the only thing that warmed them.

-------------------------------------------------------

I absolutely LOVED it, thank you! 💜 You got Maci’s personality down to the T along with her relationship with Skarky!! I don’t think I laughed so much while reading something in a long time!

[cheesygrayson-blog]

That’s What They All Say

I don't even know what this is other than not good ok read at your own risk

Summary: When you get bored at your friends’ house and start looking for ways to occupy yourself on your phone, your innocent texting gives Grayson an idea.

Word Count: 2,566

Warnings: it’s not like full on smut but its kinda saucy; not good

"I'm so bored," Grayson said as you sat with him on their living room couch, watching Ethan play Fortnite.

"Same," you sighed. When the twins had asked you to hang out, you didn't envision lazing around all day watching them play video games.

"Don't worry guys, I'm almost done," Ethan said for the third time since you'd gotten to their house over an hour ago, craning his neck to look at the two of you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," you shook your head and waved him off while pulling out your phone, trying to find some way to occupy yourself. You remembered that you had downloaded Tinder a few days before, so you opened the app to see if you had any new messages.

From: Tyler Hey ;)

You rolled your eyes at the winky face but decided to message him back anyway, just to see how much you could tease him before he got mad.

To: Tyler Sup

From: Tyler Not much, laying in bed wishing I had someone here with me

To: Tyler Is that right

From: Tyler Yeah :/ what u up to

To: Tyler Hanging out with a couple of my friends but they're being boring

From: Tyler Hmm. I could keep you entertained ;)

To: Tyler You think so?

From: Tyler Oh yeah. You'd be having a ton of fun if you were here now ;)

To: Tyler What would we be doing

From: Tyler Whatever you want

To: Tyler Monopoly

You laughed lightly at your response, thinking that the conversation was probably over after that, so you locked your phone and turned your attention back to the boys. Grayson was on his phone and Ethan was still playing Fortnite. You sighed and picked your phone back up, surprised to see that Tyler had messaged you back.

From: Tyler I think I can think of something even more fun

To: Tyler Like what

From: Tyler Like burying my dick so far inside you that you feel it in your throat

To: Tyler Eh

From: Tyler Eh?

To: Tyler No guy has ever given me an orgasm so your offer doesn't really thrill me

From: Tyler I could give you multiple

You let out a loud snort as you typed out your response.

To: Tyler That's what they all say

"What?"

"Huh?" you whipped your head in the direction the sound came from.

"What are you laughing at?" Grayson asked.

"Oh," you chuckled and handed him your phone. "Some guy on tinder."

Grayson was silent for a few moments while he read through your conversation on tinder. You watched him as his eyes moved back and forth across the screen, cracking a smile when he saw your Monopoly comment. His expression quickly changed, however, his jaw clenching and a stormy look settling in his eyes. He slowly turned his gaze to you, his eyes dark and pupils dilated.

"Are you serious?" Grayson asked.

"W-what?" you asked, his sudden mood shift making you a little nervous.

"You've never had an orgasm?"

"I didn't say I've never had one," you could feel yourself blushing with embarrassment. "Just that no guy has ever given me one," you mumbled.

"Didn't you date that one guy for like, six months?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Six months and he couldn't figure out how to make you cum?"

You just shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed even though you really had no reason to. It wasn't your fault that your ex had no knowledge of the female anatomy.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," Grayson said, as if he could read your mind. "It's not your fault you've been fucking scrubs... well, actually, maybe it is," Grayson laughed.

You huffed and looked to Ethan to defend you, only to find that he was still completely engrossed in his video game, his headset drowning out the conversation between you and Grayson. You took your phone back from him and crossed your arms, slumping against the couch.

"Don't pout," Grayson said, a smile clear in his voice.

"I'm not," you insisted, even though you knew you were.

"Hmm," Grayson hummed and rubbed his chin. "Maybe you should keep talking to that guy and see what happens. Maybe if you got some dick you wouldn't be so moody," he teased.

You turned to face him and gave him the best glare you could manage. He was already looking at you with an annoying smirk on his face. Grayson loved to tease you, and even though you knew it was all in good fun, sometimes you wished he'd just shut up.

"Probably wouldn't matter anyway," he said without breaking eye contact. You rolled your eyes and focused back on what Ethan was doing. Ethan, who was frantically punching buttons on his controller and occasionally yelling at the TV, was still completely unaware of your exchange with Grayson.

You sat and watched Ethan for a while, and you were just about to complain about your boredom again when Grayson's hand landed on your inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your shorts. You turned to look at him, your eyes as wide as saucers. Grayson's eyes were trained on the TV, but his mouth held a tiny smirk.

"What are you doing?" you whisper-yelled at him.

"Don't worry about it," he grumbled while pushing his fingertips just under the edge of your shorts.

"I'm serious Grayson," you said quietly with a slight tremble in your voice.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop," he finally looked over and met your gaze with his hooded eyes. He kept eye contact as he pushed his fingers further under your shorts, so they were grazing the edge of your cotton panties.

"S-s..." Grayson raised his eyebrows, but continued to slowly inch forward towards where you couldn't decide if you wanted him or not.

"Stop?" he asked in a low voice. You mulled it over in your head for a moment. You turned away from him, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You decided to throw caution to the wind, and when you turned to look at him again, there was fire in your eyes.

"You really think you'd be able to get me there, Grayson?" you challenged.

"I know I can," he said, a cocky look on his face.

"Mmm," you hummed, giving him a smug smile. "That's what they all say."

Grayson's eyes darkened and the cocky smile vanished from his face. He pushed his fingers the rest of the way under your shorts and ran his index finger between your folds. He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration upon realizing that you were bone fuckin' dry.

He pulled his hand away from you and inserted his index and middle fingers into his mouth to add a little lubrication, since you weren't giving him any, and quickly shoved his hand back beneath the leg of your shorts. Grayson began rubbing tight circles on your clit, and you did your best to react as little as possible. However, you couldn't stop the tiny gasp that escaped your lips, allowing Grayson's smirk to reappear.

"Don't get cocky on me, hun," you quietly chided. "I want you to succeed."

"I will," he mumbled. He brought a finger down to run between your folds again, pleased to find a little more moisture there than the first time.

Grayson suddenly pulled his hand away from you, and you were about to ask why when he pushed his hand under the waistband of your shorts in order to get a better angle. His fingers went back to working on your clit, faster and with more pressure this time. You bit hard on your lip and glanced at Ethan, who's attention was still completely focused on his game.

You were starting to get bored with the rubbing, and you were just about to tell Grayson to do something else when he started teasing your entrance with his middle finger.

"Do it," you whispered. Satisfied with your permission, Grayson slowly eased his finger inside you. It burned for a second, but that soon gave way to pleasure when he quickly found your G spot. Your muscles involuntarily tensed when he curled his finger, and your legs clamped shut around his hand. Grayson reached over and gripped your knee with his free hand so he could keep your legs open. He hooked your leg over his own so that it was trapped between his thighs, and he continued his work on your now fairly wet pussy.

"Wish you weren't wearing these shorts," Grayson rasped. "It would be a whole lot easier."

"Mmm," was the only response you could manage. You were enjoying what Grayson was doing, but you could feel your body quickly getting used to it, so you needed him to switch things up.

"Another," you breathed. Grayson looked at you as he did what you asked. He liked watching how you reacted to the new feeling, how your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back and your body slightly convulsed. It gave him a feeling of confidence and power, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on, seeing what he could do to you.

Even though your body reacted a bit dramatically at first, you quickly composed yourself as your eyes focused on Ethan. You couldn't deny that you liked the rush, the dangerous feeling you got from knowing that you could be caught with Grayson's hand down your pants at any moment. Your hands involuntarily drifted up to your chest and you started playing with your nipples over your shirt, all while continuing to watch Ethan play Fortnite.

Grayson noticed you watching his brother, and he didn't like it. He was the one that was knuckle deep in your pussy, all of your attention should be on him.

"Don't look at him," Grayson's gruff voice pulled your focus away from the older twin. "Eyes on me."

You slowly turned your head to face Grayson, your heavy lidded eyes connecting with his. His lips were parted and his tongue was poking out slightly, and you couldn't help but imagine how it would feel if his tongue was doing the work that his fingers currently were. Before your mind got too off track, Grayson curled his fingers so that they scraped against your front wall, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

"Come on, baby," he muttered. "Cum for me."

"Not there yet," you whispered, your eyes drifting back towards Ethan. Before you could fully focus on him, though, Grayson's free hand gripped your jaw and forced you to face him again.

"I told you to keep your eyes on me, sweetheart," Grayson chided.

"Sorry," you cooed. The corner of Grayson's mouth ticked up in a tiny smirk when you apologized, and without warning, he shoved a third finger into your wet cunt and started rubbing hard circles on your clit again with his thumb. You let out a strangled gasp and gripped his wrist to still his motions and allow your body a moment to adjust.

"You okay?" Grayson asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yeah," you slowly loosened your grip on his wrist. "Yeah, I'm good, continue."

"You sure?" he asked, wiggling his fingers ever so slightly. That tiny movement alone was enough to make you eyes roll back in your head.

"Yes I'm sure, please Grayson keep going," your hands travelled back up to your chest as Grayson continued his assault on your dripping core. You gasped loudly when you felt the telltale tightening in your lower abdomen, shocking you by letting you know that your orgasm was close.

"Oh my God, oh my God Grayson, I'm almost there," you whined as quietly as you could, briefly glancing at Ethan to make sure he was still unaware of what was going on behind him. Grayson, of course, didn't like your attention being turned away from him, even for a moment, so his firm grip returned to your jaw and wrenched your face back to look at him.

"You look at me when you cum," he softly demanded. You clung to the last ounce of attitude you had in your body and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes sir."

Grayson's eyes darkened and his fingers curled inside you, almost as if he was clenching his fist, and his thumb rubbed hard against your clit. Before another thought had time to enter your mind, you felt your walls tighten around Grayson's fingers as your orgasm took over your body. Your jaw dropped open but no sound left your mouth save for a few soft gasps, all of your noises trapped in your throat. Grayson moved his thumb from your jaw and hooked it in the corner of your open mouth, pushing it forward to run over your tongue. You closed your mouth around it and bit down lightly before swirling your tongue around his digit, causing a short huff to fall past Grayson's lips.

Grayson let you grind on his hand, riding out your orgasm. You couldn't believe how much better it felt compared to when you got yourself off. By the time your release had run its course, you were out of breath and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Grayson pulled his hand from your shorts and immediately brought his wet fingers to his mouth so he could taste you.

"Oh my God, Gray-"

"Victory Royale!" Ethan's voice rang out, cutting you off. Your eyes darted back to him to see that he was celebrating his win on Fortnite, spinning in circles in his chair with his hands thrown in the air.

"Victory royale indeed," Grayson mumbled beside you, trying to hold back his shit eating grin. You nudged his shoulder and gave him a look, warning him to keep his mouth shut.

"Okay guys, what do you wanna do?" Ethan asked, his gaze finally settling on the two of you. "Is it hot in here?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "You look a little flushed, (Y/N)."

"Uh, yeah, no, I'm fine, maybe a little warm, but I'm fine," you rambled.

"Okay," he gave you a look and turned back to Grayson. "What do you wanna do?"

"Would you mind going and getting us food? I don't really feel like leaving," Grayson said as he stretched out on the couch.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Ethan agreed. "What do you want?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Just get whatever you want."

"Alright, fine. (Y/N), want anything specific?"

"I'm fine with whatever," you answered, mind still spinning too much from everything that had happened in the last few minutes to even think of a food that existed.

"Okay, cool, I'll be back soon," Ethan called over his shoulder as he exited the room. You and Grayson sat in silence until Ethan's car was heard leaving the driveway. Once he was sure that Ethan was gone, Grayson stood from his seat on the couch and positioned himself directly in front of you.

"Yes?" you asked, mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable I told you so that was coming your way.

"I lied," he said simply.

"What?" you asked, genuine confusion painting your face. "When?"

"Just now. To Ethan," he said as he sunk to his knees in front of you.

"I know what I want to eat."

[wakandascrystal]

Imagine this….Part 2

“…so if I fuck some guy here……..you won’t care?”

He flexed his jaw and his eyes flinched. You could see it would obliviously bother him but he swayed his head signaling a no.

“Its your pussy mah do what you have to do.“

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 

“You should have fucked somebody at that damn club...maybe a white boy with red hair just to rub it in. If Malik tried that shit with me it would have been over.“ Tinah said boldly

“You mean your relationship?” You asked softly.

Your hoarse voice clearly giving away how much crying you had done the night before.

“Nah I mean his life.” Usually, you would have laughed at a funny remark like that but not today all you could put together ways a weak smile and a deep sigh.

In dead silence, Tinah and yourself laid in your warm bed watching reruns of Insecure. As you both sluggishly took popcorn from the bag you witnessed how Lawrence was trying to handle Issa cheating on him. The awkward moments, the silent conversations, the friends picking sides just the whole mess.

You were Lawrence! Maybe not totally Lawrence but you related to him a bit.

You didn't want to put the friend group you and Erik had in a position where they had to pick and choose. This was between you and him. Surely he thought the same right?

And that's why you slipped out of bed made your way to the bathroom and called him. Your hands were sweaty and your heart beating craze, even more then the time Erik was randomly being searched for drugs by some Cops. You remember telling him in a whisper to give you anything he had on him because if he got arrested he would lose his Scholarship, his job, life. Basically everything.

You washed your face with cold water and made the phone call.

Ring... Ring. . . Ring. . . The person you are trying to reach isn't accepting calls at this time.

“Come on Erik don’t do this to me”

You said under your breath. You tried again another 5 times and he still didn't pick up. You couldn't make any more excuses for him. You knew how organized that man was. His phone was always charged and on him. He damn near owned 3 power banks to your knowledge. This was the first time he had left you on voicemail and you were not pleased.

A notification popped up. The split second of hope that maybe he was getting back to you died.

@ErikKillmonger66 just posted.

You clicked on it to find the shook of your life. The sweet picture he took of you at the museum he had taken you to a couple of weeks back, where your highlighter and hair looked bomb had been deleted. Now replaced with a picture of some girl with neon green on his lap.

That’s when you knew he was really trying you. It was really over now. Him putting that picture up meant to you and the thousands of followers he had that you were no longer his girl.

No longer Erik’s Girl.

Anger surged through your veins. Storming into your room Tinah was half asleep.

“TINAH!“ You normal voice was slowly coming back to you.

“What in the hell is going on.”  You held the picture to her face and watched how her expression changed.

“Is this Erik ?...with...with Cassie“

“Who the fuck is Cassie ??“ You were sure the people up and down stairs could hear you but you really didn't care

“Look..... don’t worry about her, she steals everybody's man. Who you need to worry about is Erik and his head-ass.“ All you wanted to do was to rip that Shrek looking wig of her head hoping its glued down so her edges would be fucked up too.

“I hate him. I hate him so much. After everything Tinah! Everything....I've been loyal to him. AHH ........fuck what if he's been fooling around with other girls since the beginning and I didn't know. I must have been some stupid idiot to him...I was a just good pussy that had a place to crash and free food.“ You paced up and down your room. You didn't know if Tinah was even listening to you but you didn't mind, you just needed to vent.

Tinah made a face as she secretly scrolling through your DM’s

“umm, good pussy?? ...your pussy fucken fantastic bitch. Don’t downplay yourself like that.“ Tinah’s attempt to gassing you up was slowly working.

“Your ass is in MIT with no kids and no ex’s that would start shit with him. You beautiful. You play fucking sports and cook like a certified chef and he acts like that. CUT! HIM! OFF! (Y/N)“

Even thought Tinah tried to get you to leave him for 7 days now, deep down she knew you wouldn't. You seriously loved Erik. She saw the way you looked at him and how you touched him in public. Griping on his thick bicep, hugging his waist or placing your hand on his thigh when he drove you around, just little sweet physically reminders that told him you were there for him.

Tinah noticed how you would go out of your way to make him happy. She didn't think it was unhealthy at all. Erik had never asked for anything drastic or selfish and you would never do anything you were not comfortable with. Tinah deeply appreciated that equilibrium. So much so that she would compare her relationship with Malik to your own relationship with Erik. She would never admit it to anyone but she really didn't have any positive relationships to look up to growing up. It was either Mr. and Mrs. Huxtable or Beyonce and Jay Z.

But now it was you. If she was having problems with Malik. She would think

“What would Erik and (Y/N) do? ”

“How would Erik and (Y/N) solve this? “

“How would Erik and (Y/N) go forward from here? “

The whole situation obviously didn’t hurt her as much as it did to you but she felt some type of way about it.

“.....You know what? You right...”

She looked up at you still in your oversize pajama top, hair all over the place.

“What?“

“You are absolutely right. I should get over his ass. I put some much time, love and effort into him and look at me.....“

“ so what’s about happen now...“ Tinah asked carefully

“Am about to get in the shower while you make me a tinder profile and find me, good-looking men, to mess with....“

Tinah erupted in laughter.

“Yes. yes, Bitch... am here for you. This is why am here....Get your sticking ass you there and clean up while I look for some Nubian dick.“

“Hey. Ill take Colonizer dick too!“ you shouted back to her, scrubs, oils and towel in hand as you head to the bathroom.

Water cascaded down your form. Fulling up the room with steam. You were nervous but you didn't want it to show. You were a little confused as to why you felt guilty. You hadn't even done anything yet and you felt bad until you had the flashback to Erik looking down at you, face filled with tears and he did nothing but disown you. That’s when your fire reignited again and hell...it didn't help that Tinah was blasting Beyonce’s Sorry from your laptop.

It was about 7:45 PM and you noticed Tinah was getting ready with you.

“T, where is your ass going? You cant go thoting with me.....You still have a man.“

She helped you clip in your wig and iron it down.

“Please... Malik knows I won't do anything crazy.He worries but he doesn't care.“

“Well, it's either your a changed women or he doesn't know about your past...“

“listen to me (Y/N) there is something called Trust okay...It's something I want but doesn’t give out“ You laughed, Fully this time. A genuine laugh that tickled your tummy.

“You mean head??“ Clapped her hands.

“....I suck my man's dick for my-“ You quickly covers her mouth with your hand but careful not to mess up her stunning makeup.

“No!!“

You enjoyed this atmosphere. Just you and your friend having a laugh. The smell of hairspray and perfume. Getting ready to slay with Beyonce playing in the background,  what more could you have wanted. For a brief moment, you forgot about the whole Erik mess and just watching Tinah happily picking out an outfit from your closet and trying on your clothes.

After 2 hours you finally ready to leave. Tinah had found 17 guys who were ready to meet you. You knew 5 from school, 3 were Erik’s friends and the rest were good-looking strangers.

“I like this one.“ you pointed at the profile of some guy from school who took some classes with you and Erik. You had hit the jackpot. You going to make Erik eat his words.

Making your way to the front entrance of dorm building you see the UBER Tinah had called for but right next to it parked the Jeep you knew too well. Erik was leaning on his black Jeep with his phone in hand. You froze and both Erik and Tinah looked at you. She followed your eyes and saw Erik walking towards you.

“Where you going dressed like that. Does Malik know you here.“ You knew he shouldn't have said that.

“Nigga keep my man's name out you dirty mouth...You hear me?!“ She pulled you towards the UBER while she warned him.

“Look I don’t wanna fight with you... I need to talk to (Y/N)“

“No, what you NEED to do is take your little as car and go to your Quinceañeras bitch and leave (Y/N) alone “

during the back and fourth Tinah and Erik were having you noticed how tired he looked. Red eyes and how messy his dreads were. All you wanted to do was to run and hold him. Place his head in the croak on your neck but he hurt you. He didn't have that privilege anymore.

Tinah had pulled you to the UBER but your feet stopped walking when you heard him say the words you had been imagining him saying all week.

“Baby am sorry.“

It was like a tug or war and you were the rope. Tinah physically pulling you to one side and Erik pulling you with his words.

“Why should I believe you? You insulted me Erik and left me hanging. Am sorry baby is noting going to cut it! “

“You right ...I messed up ...big time. Am just dealing with some issues I -“ You cut him off

“Issues?! You had me out there looking like a fucking fool because you had issues?? Nigga, I have issues too. Big ones but you don’t see me playing around with what we have.....what we had... You clowned me and that’s okay. I fell for it just like all the hoes you been with.‘‘

You could see that angered him.

“You know that's not true. You not like them hoes.“

“Is that why you couldn’t pick up my calls this morning?”

“Bicth you called him...For what?” You ignored her question waiting to see what would respond with.

“Let’s forget about this confused Nigga and go!“ Tinah stated pulling you to the UBER again

“Okay ama say it -“ You paused and turned again to face him

”- I love you. I don't like you..... or I don't kinder feel you, Nah. Not all of that. I absolutely love you and am scared as shit ...that I will lose you just like I did my dad..my mama. I figured if you hated me and you didn't want anything to do with me It would be easier to part ways. I rather have a heartbreak now then later. I won't lie..... I stayed cause you were a good fuck but then you started talking. Making me food and shit. Taking me on cute little-unplanned dates like I was 14 or something. No one in my life has ever given a shit about me the way you did. I mean ...no one! I didn't even know how to receive that kind of treatment.....All I kept thinking was shes just doing this for something in return, that’s how the world works right. Give and take. nah not you. You didn't even tell people we were smashing...that shit blew me away. You helped me figure out a lot of things about myself without judging or looking down at me. If I told a bitch why I got these scars they would....they would run and never look back but you believed me when I said that lifestyle was over and that am here to start afresh...That shit I said at the club was bullshit and am sorry that I hurt you...I don’t wanna to hurt. You're my princess..... why the fuck I wanna see you cry. That shit al almost killed me. I also have to say sorry you to Tinah. Am sure I put you in a weird position with Malik being my Boy and all. Thank you for being by her side.”

Erik’s apology was so deep and sweet even the UBER driver had been sitting and listing from his car.

“I know I messed up but please just give me one more time ....the both of you. Baby (Y/N) I’ll be a better boyfriend, Tinah I’ll be a better friend. Y’all can think about it.“

What would you do ???.

tag list:

@theunsweetenedtruth @myboyfriendgiriboy @sweetsexysavagery @ @lewatigress  @thebeautysurrounds 

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @drsunshine97 @amyhennessyhouse

@forbeautyforlife @imaginewhoever  @james-heaven-barnes @halfrican-heat 

[euphoriacafe]

BTS Reaction to teaching you how to Kiss but get steamy instead

What about BTS teaching their BFF how to kiss, but things get out of hand... really quickly. - Anon

WARNING ⚠️

Smut ahead don’t cry to me you little kinky kids !!!

______________________________________________________

Yoongi

“Come on please Yoongi!!” You whined as you both sat inside of the studio he was taking a breath from making a song until you came up with an idea to teach you how to kiss since you have clearly never have done it. “Noooo you’re my best friend it would be weird.” He said shaking his head he clearly had a thing for you but you were his best friend. “Please!” You pouted your lips sadly. He sighed “Ahh fine get over here.” He sat on the couch as you came and crawled right beside him. You sat close to his side giving him full attention. “Okay, relax your face, don’t pout your lips, when kissing you just right into it.” He cleared his throat and noticed you leaning in. As both of your lips touch he felt something shoot inside his stomach making him flutter. He put a hand on your thigh and the hand arm around you. He was going to back away but you pushed on pushing your tongue against his lips as if you were a pro at this already. He allowed you and then he felt you straddle him and he started to feel things that weren’t so pure to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he kept his hands on your thigh. This was going to be fun.

Jungkook

You both were in the living room on the floor playing Mario Carts on the Wii, you were losing the entire time because he kept distracting you by his shouting but it made you laugh. You were at the end of the race getting to the finish line but you quickly turned to him and pressed your lips against his which made him surely stop driving and put a hand on your waist. He was your first kiss you paused the game blushing and looking away. “(Y/N-N)” he stutter your name. “Ahhh that was my first kiss... you kept winning.” That kiss made your blush and smile inside like a little fangirl. He smirked “Well I can tell you are a great kisser but when you kiss make sure you let the other person take control it will be a lot of fun trust me.” You looked confused by his words “What do you mean?” You asked he chuckled pulling in as if he didn’t have to think about it twice. His lips pushed against yours softly and picked you up to sit on his lap- he licked your bottom lip for permission and you opened your lips slowly letting these hot and sweet tastes and your heart beating quickly~ you both stayed making out until you moved around and you felt something hard under you blushing. “Jungko-ok...” you stuttered his name into the kiss and fiddled around even more he moaned and threw his head back “Pl-please stop moving around or I won’t be able to pull back.” He thrusted his hips upwards into your crotch.

Taehyung

You were putting on Makeup since Taehyung offered both of you to go to the club like every Saturday night. He was groaning because you were taking so long to do so “Why do you need makeup I mean don’t get me wrong you look beautiful with it but you look stunning without it my lovebug.” He purred Lovebug. Lovebug was a name you loved but act like you hated it- you scrunched your nose rolling your eyes “Ahhh Taehyung can I tell you something?” You asked you never even told him since you always felt embarrassed. He stood up behind you and put his chin on the top of your head and snaked his hands around to your waist. He always pulled you close into his body to get you to blush and well right now you were blushing. He hummed a yes “I never had my first kiss.” You continued to put on your lipstick. He looked at you through the mirror in a hot hungry way “Really? It seemed like men and women would always surround you because your hot and beautiful in general.” He said truthfully. You turned around to face him and he smiled leaning in but before he could press his lips against yours “I’ll teach you then.” He presses his lips against yours slowly and gently. You felt your heart beat quickly, stomach flutter, legs were weak. You held him by his shirt on this waist as he pulled you deeper- it’s been 15 minutes long that you both were making out getting the hang of it as he was going to pull away you made faded nail marks on his shoulders making him pull you closer with a smirk. This was getting too steamy and you loved it.

Hoseok

You’re a professional dancer you loved doing sexy songs and helping other artist come up with hot choreography. Hoseok was watching you from the wall as he drank water. You were struggling to come up with an actual dance for the song “Freak” Little Mix- You groaned throwing your head back with your hands on your sides. You watched as Hoseok was enjoying the show. “You need help now?” He asked you rolls your eyes and he took it as a yes. He walked over “Why don’t you start with a partner dance then move it to a group then a single dancer.” You sighed as you followed his lead “Start with a close grind then have them pull you up towards their face.” He said “Like this.” The music was loud and banging as he held onto your waist watching in the mirror as you grind against him bent over then shot up and spun around to press yourself against Hosoek’s body. You looked at his face closely and he was so hot and beautiful at the same time. He slowly turned his head from the mirror to your face he was definitely turned on as he held your waist clawing a bit he lead in and you stopped him “Hoseok I never kissed anyone before...” you whispered embarrassed. But that didn’t stop him as he pushed you gently against a wall and place his soft lips against your lips. He was cherishing the moment as you followed along with his kiss after a few moments you wanted to rip off all his clothes off his body and had your legs around his waist. Even though he was your best friend you had feelings for him and this was pushing it further.

Seokjin

You both were cooking... well let me rephrase he was cooking because he was boiling something inside one of the pans and didn’t want anything to pop on you. So he made you sit on the other side of him on the counter. You were always playful and flirty with him and you both were just always acting like a couple so people would confuse you for a real one. You were eating chocolate as you watched him deal with the food but with his shirt off- his back was fully exposed to you you wouldn’t lie you loved his back it was perfect to you everything about him is perfect. “Seokjin” you sang quietly that it actually sounded good he hummed covering the pan and walking in front of you as you trailed your hand to his lips to feed him a chocolate. “Have you ever kissed someone?” You asked quietly. He nodded yes “Yeah but it’s been a long time what about you?” He hummed setting between your legs that hung off the counter. “No... I haven’t.” You asked you felt so memorized by his eyes and lips. Self consciously you lead in and pressed your lips against his and he was taken back. “Are you sure?” He asked as his breathing felt heavy now. You nodded and you both went in for the kiss he licked his lips swallowing harshly. It lasted for ten whole minutes you both were basically making out and you could’ve swore he moaned a few times as you fought for domanice and when you clawed at his back. “Let me turn off the stove and we can take this to my bedroom, I’ll teach you a few things.” He said breathlessly as he didn’t even turn around to know he turned off the stove this was going to be entertaining as he carried you with your leg around his waist and kept the kiss going.

Jimin

You both were inside the music studio he was already frustrated because he couldn’t get the right sounds for his new first mini album. He is still in BTS but wanted to make his first album by himself and the song he was working on wasn’t the purest song it was a Sex song You was sitting inside of the room with him as he groaned. “What’s wrong you won’t tell me what you need!” You whined. He looked at you “This is suppose to be a sexual song but I feel like it’s missing something.” He said quickly putting his hands on his face from embarrassment. You had to joke around to make him happy- You stood up and walked to the mic room and put on the ear phones “What about this Jimin!” You faked moan “Oooh, Jimin, oooh yes right there fuckkkkkk.” You purred which actually sound good because he looked up and felt himself twitch under his jeans you both had a thing for each other but always denied it. He swallowed harshly and put a hand on top of his jeans “Ahhh” he groaned quietly biting his lips as you continued. He got up walking into the mic room “What are you doing (Y/N).” He spoke as he covered your moan from moaning. “I-I-I umm.” You were lost for words as he shoved you against the wall with both of your bodies close together and your hand was accidentally pressed against his hard crotch and he slowly placed a kiss on your lips but you accepted it.

Namjoon

You saw him change many times before but he has never seen you get dressed in front of him but this time you had to change for a date “Namjoon can you zip up my dress please.” He turned around thinking the zipper was at the top half of the dress but he was wrong- he saw you waiting for him to zip you up but he could see your white lace underwear with a white lace bra. He licked his lips taking a deep breath and slowly reached for the zipper and held your waist zipping it up slowly admiring your back and the lace that was under your dress. “Ahh are you really going to go on this date you don’t even know the guy that well...YOU MET HIM/her ON TINDER!” He spoke loudly as you turned around “Well I can’t exactly ditch him.” You said “No but you can send another girl/guy to go..” you chuckled quietly listening to him complain. You both were at the front door as you were getting your black heels on until he felt a hand on your wrist then pulling you up and you felt a hand be placed on your waist and another hand on your cheek “Please don’t go (Y/N).... I like you a lot and I’m annoyed because I don’t want to see you with another guy/girl.” He spoke slowly and pushed his lips against yours. You slowly closed your eyes dropping your bag and keys this was your first kiss and you also liked Namjoon. This kiss went on for a few minutes until it turned into a makeout then a needy and steamy makeout to the point he was dragging his lips to your lips then down to your neck and your shoulder his words were enough to make you warm “Lets go get this dress off of you and see you in that beautiful lace.” He thrusted upwards seeming you nod, blush, and smirk.

[tinderthecity]

Mr. Mindful

It’s been a while, but I thought it would be fun to post a keeper of a date from a while back, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

I began dating again sometime in October. It’s always helpful to give yourself time to heal after a rough breakup, so naturally I tried to jump back in almost immediately. I didn’t want to go right back into Tinder or Bumble, it felt overwhelming, but luckily social media is really creepy about their advertising and for a while I saw an ad floating around for a dating app called “Meet Mindful,” which is for people who are into mindfulness (they have a dating app for everything now, I know). My thought was - wow, maybe this will help me immediately weed out people who have a fundamentally different understanding of the world than I do.

You’d think at 26 I’d be less naive.

Early on I started talking to Mr. Mindful. After some chatting he asked me to grab dinner at a pizza place that served gluten and dairy free pizza, so naturally I agreed.

As I started walking to the pizza place that Friday, tears started streaming down my face, and then I broke into full out sobs. I pulled myself together by the next block, and then I was back in sobs two blocks later. It was a cycle for about 15 minutes. I texted my girlfriends, I called my mom, I had been really solidly single for a little over a month and I realized I just wasn’t ready.

I told Mr. Mindful the truth, I gave him a little back story to my situation, told him I was crying, and that I didn’t think it was fair for either of us if I went on this date. His response was extremely understanding:

“Hey Chloé, as much as I wish you didn’t cancel on me, I appreciate you letting me know your situation, as I can understand that. I’d be willing to try and meet up again at some point.”

So wonderful. Points for Mr. Mindful. I was extremely relieved and skipped gleefully all the way home.

About a month later I started to feel comfortable with the notion of dating again, I re-opened my Bumble and Tinder accounts, and I was baby stepping towards opening up. Around that same time Mr. Mindful texted me asking if I’d felt comfortable to try and meet up again soon.

I had actually considered reaching out to him myself, after his kind and accepting response the last go around, I was willing to give it a shot.

We decided on the pizza place again, and this time as I walked to our date I didn’t cry once ;D

When I first meet him, I realize pretty immediately that I’m not entirely attracted to him, but that’s ok. I also realize pretty immediately that he is VERY awkward. He has a hard time looking at me when he speaks and instead focuses his attention on shifting around his utensils and swirling around his water.

I know some people can get really nervous on first dates, I also know some people have more awkwardness to them than others, so I never want to make a snap judgment or shut down into discomfort, it’s always my goal to make the situation as chill, casual, and comfortable as possible, so I do my best.  

We small talk and chit chat about life (as he continues to not look at me). He asks me about my job situation, I explain that I was just offered a position at Fordham University, that I plan to get my masters degree while I’m there and hopefully at some point in the future, my Ph.D. because I would love to end up teaching in higher ed.

He then responds by saying “I just don’t like the extreme leftist agenda of higher education.”

…………….ummmmmmm excuse me? if you know me, I don’t think there’s much I need to say about this. But even that aside, what a way to respond to someone’s life trajectory..

Our conversation continues (I preface by saying I kept my tone very calm and cordial to keep that chill first date environment):

Me: Tell me more of what you mean by that Him: I just think our society is trying to engrain natural male behaviors out of us

.....?!?!?!

Me: Like what kind of behaviors? Him: I think men are more naturally aggressive, and we’re told not to be. Like young boys at school on the playground want to rough and tumble and the teachers tell them to stop. I think it just ends up getting pent up and then men do stupid things when they’re older. Me: I understand what you’re saying, but I think it’s more so about time and place. First of all there is a liability when it comes to children being injured at school. Second it’s about teaching kids when and what is appropriate. For example, the little boy I used to nanny, we could tell he wanted a physical outlet so now he is in martial arts where he has that outlet with boundaries, and they teach them things like “we use common sense before self-defense, we never use martial arts to be abusive or aggressive, etc.” I also know quite a few men in my life who have actually said they feel as though masculine expectations have been harmful because it never allowed them to fully express their emotions or feel vulnerability and weakness in a healthy way. Him: Yeah but I mean there also comes a point when you have to toughen up and know you’ll be ok and move on. Me: I think it requires a balance.

At this point I KNOW this isn’t going to work but he seems comfortable with the conclusion we’ve reached. He’s talking to me about how he wants to be a life coach to young guys …….. (still not looking at me)

So in this moment, and even now far removed, my thought is that because Mr. Mindful is a kind of petite, small framed, socially awkward guy, he blames what he perceives to be his “non-hyper-masculine” persona to be the cause of his social unease. Whereas I think he just has some social unease regardless and were he to just own his own self as he is, he would have greater ease no matter the “level” of masculinity. Just my thoughts.

It comes time to pay our bill and he says he’ll get it. I ask if he wants to split and he says “you can get dessert.”

…. oh so we’re not done here.

Not knowing how to back out of this one I say I know a place across town, it’s near the train I know we both have to take to get back home so I figure it’s at least in the right direction. To which he responds - “Do you like to dance?”

I obviously like to dance, but Idk what I’m walking into here so I say - “it depends.”

He says there is a swing dancing place in midtown that he wanted to take me to and he could teach me how to dance.

Ok it’s a Thursday night, it’s already 8, he wants to get dessert AND swing dance downtown, I have work in the morning, and I honestly want this date to be over 5 minutes ago. I tell him I’m having breakfast with some friends in the morning before work (I had a show with them the following night.. close enough) but that we can do dessert and maybe swing dancing can be for another time. He unhappily agrees.

We wait for the cross town bus and he keeps inching closer to me as I inch further away. By the time the bus arrives we’ve moved at least 5 feet from where we started. All the while he guesses my Myers-Briggs on the first shot (ok that was kind of impressive) and I find out that he’s a scorpio (should’ve known.. ;]).

We have our dessert, hop on the train, and as I go to get off at my stop he gets up to get off with me. He lives a good 3+ stops north of me so I’m confused, I also would prefer a guy not know where I live when I hardly know him. He walks me part way home and says - “I don’t like saying goodbye on subways. I had a great time, lets do this again some time”

In order to avoid the potential first kiss I say yeah, hug him, and get the hell out of there.

He texts me the next day. At this point, I think the messages will speak for themselves.

Prepare yourself.

Needless to say, after this exchange I blocked his number.

I was a bit concerned that he may still have access to me via the app, the only hiccup was, in order to block him on the app I had to go to his profile, and this app also tells you when people go to your profile..... a bit of a glitch in the system.

So of course, contact me on the app is exactly what he did.

His apology follows...

I reiterate.. prepare yourself

Him:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me:

I think I can officially say that my first experience back after a year and a half was definitely.... more entertaining to read than to experience first hand!

Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone! 

[musicalravencreates]

Hurricane Heart (Part Two)

(Part One)

Thank you to @zoozleplug for answering my questions about Tinder and thank you to you guys for now 115 followers. This is just amazing and I’m so glad we can all enjoy shit like this together

Alex always thought the couch was pretty small. He’d considered asking Ryland to get a new one, but then there would be the whole ‘craigslist is a horrible place full of cheats and bedbugs’ conversation they’d had when Alex had wanted an actual bed, and boy was he not geared up for that again.

Besides, he quite liked how easily he could cuddle up to Ryland this way. He was super comfy, even if he rarely let Alex actually cuddle with him. Usually he just scooted away, eyes locked on whatever game he was playing at the time. It was kind of disappointing, really, considering he’d let him cuddle with him up until about six months ago. It was like a wall had gone up over night, and Ryland went from tolerating Alex octopusing him, to completely separating them.

He’d tried to ask him about it once. It was one of the only times Alex had seen such raw fear cross over his face and he didn’t dare ask again. Just took the subject change and moved on. He guessed maybe something happened to make him even less liking of touch. He hoped it wasn’t something serious. Or something he’d done without his own knowledge. He didn’t like the idea that he could cause such a distress.

Regardless, he’d tried to be respectful enough for the first few months. Stayed on the far side of the tiny couch as best he could. But he’d noticed how Ryland had seemed even less taken by that action, like it hurt him somehow. So, Alex made himself a compromise. He let himself lean against Ryland at times, sometimes a leg, sometimes a shoulder. Nothing too bold, just small things. And that had become routine almost, for Alex just to lean on him as he spoke or watched him play. He was thankful he even had that. Though, as he leaned against Ryland again, shoulder to hip this time, he wondered what had put him on edge a year ago.

“Shit,” He heard Ryland mutter, hands gripping the controller tighter. Alex glanced at the screen. Big red lettering declared 'Game Over.’

“C'mon, dude. You got this,” Alex said. He’d already forgotten what Ryland was actually playing, but fuck it if he wasn’t going to encourage him however he could.

“Eh, maybe.” Ryland shrugged, jolting him slightly. He glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Why are you practically laying on me?”

Alex yawned, leaning further against him. “Cause it’s 2am and I’m dead tired.”

“Then go lay down in your room,” Ryland snorted, eyes already back on the screen. He wiggled further away from Alex, making him slump further to the side. Alex whined, scooting closer.

“But you’re so close to winning,” Alex said, hoping it was true. His eyes fluttered shut. Damn, Ryland was really warm. If only he’d let him climb in his lap. That’d be nice.

“Not by a long shot, dude.” Ryland snorted and gestured at the TV. “Look at this shit.”

Alex blinked blearily at the screen, pixilated blobs slowly becoming a couple sticking their tongues down each other’s throat. The blobs were preferable. “You don’t like seeing happy people?” He asked, yawning again.

“More like it reminds me a need a damn girlfriend,” Ryland said. Alex glanced back at him in surprise.

“Really?” He asked, suddenly tryong to think of the last time Alex had seen Ryland date a girl. There was that one girl, that one with those really cool skirts. Mary? Martha? She told him she made all her skirts herself, so of course Alex had to buy one off her. It was still hung up in his closet, although he’d only wore it a few times.

But besides her, there wasn’t anyone else he knew of. Although Ryland was usually quiet about his love life, so there could have been many others Alex had never met.

“Or a boyfriend,” Ryland snorted, shrugging slightly. Alex blinked, opening his mouth a moment then closing it. Well, now that actually opened up a whole batch of people he’d been introduced to.

“Okay,” Alex said, nodding to himself. If that’s what Ryland needed, Alex was glad to help. His friend had been looking pretty down these past few months, so maybe a date is what he needed. And if it cheered his buddy up, he was game. Alex sat up a bit, already feeling himself get excited. “Let’s get you a romantic partner, then! I think I remember there’s this app. Tin-something…” He fumbled around, searching his pockets for his phone.

“Wha- Alex, no. I was joking,” Ryland glanced at Alex out the corner of his eye, a panicked look in his eye. Alex, however, didn’t notice as he finally located his phone and immediately began search for dating apps.

“C'mon, Ryland, let me help,” Alex said, flipping through several apps. “I know you’ve been pretty down in the dumps lately. This could be the pick up you need!”

“Alex-”

“Aha!” Alex held out his phone to Ryland. “Here it is. Tinder. It’s a dating app that I heard a lot of people use when they-”

“Alex!” Ryland snapped, shoving the phone away. “I was joking. Let it go.”

Alex frowned, cradling the phone close to his chest. “There’s no need to be ashamed. Thousands, maybe millions of people need help dating. Just make an account-”

“I’m tired.” Ryland tossed his controller on the coffee table, the loud clack making Alex wince. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He pushed himself to his feet, Alex landing with a thud on the couch cushions. He watched Ryland storm off, wincing again as the door slammed behind him.

Laying back, Alex stared up at the ceiling, tapping his fingers against his phone on his chest. He wasn’t exactly encouraged by Ryland’s behavior. He was obviously embarrassed about not being able to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend on his own, and that made things difficult for Alex to help. Whenever Ryland was dead set on ignoring something, he did it well. Far too well, honestly. Alex wished he’d actually let himself be happy for often. He rarely got to see him smile.

But he couldn’t give up. As much as Ryland was going to ignore him, he had to persist for his own good. He didn’t want him to wallow in unhappiness anymore. He was going to find his best friend a relationship.

A small pang went through his chest at the thought, but he was already too busy making Ryland’s Tinder account to notice.

The next morning, Alex found himself practically passing out in his cereal bowl. He yawned, drawing himself up to his full height to stretch his arms above his head. He’d stayed up most of the night swiping through profiles, looking for someone even remotely good of Ryland. He’d been sure to list all he could think of in Ryland’s profile and found himself with a ridiculous amount of prospects. It took him a good half hour to even figure out how the app functioned. Going through each person and meticulously feeling them out of compatibility took even longer. He’d barely managed to pry himself away as dawn broke, but he only was able to sleep for about two hours before his internal alarm went off.

As he finished stretching, he heard Ryland’s door open. He checked the clock, blinking in surprise. Strange. Ryland usually slept well past the morning. What was he doing up?

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ryland shuffling towards the kitchen, hair gathered in a messy ponytail and loose T-shirt bunch up at his waist. He didn’t give the counter where Alex sat a second glance, heading straight for the fridge. Alex smiled, watching him pull out some milk and sniff it. He was so cute in the mornings.

Ryland glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “You need something?” He asked, setting the milk on the counter and grabbing a couple eggs.

“Nah,” Alex said, popping some cereal in his mouth. Ryland side eyed him as he took a bowl from the cupboard but didn’t comment further.

As he ate, Alex checked his phone multiple times. He didn’t know exactly how this Tinder thing worked, but he had figured out there was a 'match’ feature and that it would probably notifying him when that happened. He fully expected all twenty people he’d selected would match with Ryland, so he was a bit disappointed when there seemed to be no response yet.

“Is Kamal texting you memes again?” Ryland asked, setting his finished scrambled eggs on the counter across from Alex.

“No,” Alex mumbled, flicking through to the inbox. 'No New Messages’ glared back at him and he frowned.

“Hey, you okay?” Alex glanced up to see Ryland gesturing at him with his fork, eyebrow raised. “You look tired, man. You sleep alright?”

“Ry, I’m fine,” Alex said, yawning in the middle of his sentence. Ryland only looked more concerned, so Alex said the first thing he could think of. “I had a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep. I’ll just take a nap later, no worries.” Alex shrugged, giving Ryland a reassuring smile. He hated lying, especially to Ryland, but it was necessary to keep him from freaking out before Alex even netted him his first match.

“Oh,” Ryland paused a moment, before nodding. “Okay. Sorry bout that.” He took a bite of his eggs, still eyeing Alex carefully.

Alex made a noncommittal noise, nose already buried in his phone again. Why hadn’t anybody matched yet? Did he have his settings wrong? He opened Tinder and searched through the settings, groaning in frustration when he saw everything was correct.

He tossed his phone down on the counter, glaring at it with distain. Ryland ate another bite of eggs, regarding him for a moment with a slight smile on his face.

“Do you want me to throw it out the window for you?” Ryland asked, poking Alex’s phone with his fork.

Alex sighed. “No,” He batted it closer to himself, spinning it a few times before standing and sticking it in his pocket. “I’m gonna go out for a bit.”

Ryland shrugged, making a 'go ahead��� gesture. Alex scooped up his bowl and tossed it in the sink. He slipped on his shoes, not bothering with socks or a jacket as he slipped out the door.

He spent most of the day weaving in and out of coffee shops and random stores. He kept checking opening and closing Tinder, to the point where his phone’s battery took quite the nose dive. He kept going, however, sure he’d see a notification pop up soon.

And yet by lunch, Alex was feeling pretty hopeless. It had been six hours since he’d chosen Ryland’s matches and not one person had matched back. He had been sure they would. Ryland’s picture had been the sure clincher, a top down black and white picture of him laying on his bed, actually smiling. True, he’d been smiling because Alex had whacked his head on the ceiling trying to take a picture of him, but it was a good photo regardless. Honestly, Alex would have had it framed if he could, but there was the fact of Ryland not knowing he’d kept the photo and he really didn’t want to address that any time soon.

Slumping down in his corner booth seat, Alex toyed with his phone as he stared out the window. If he couldn’t do this for Ryland, what kind of life partner was he? He deserved to be happy, and if Alex couldn’t even manage to get him one date, Ryland might continue ignoring his need for companionship.

Alex frowned, eyes catching on two people across the street. They were holding hands and laughing, doubled over as their shoulders shook. Alex remembered laughing that hard with Ryland, a stupid joke Alex had made that dissolved into a ridiculous giggle fest. It was one of the few times Alex had heard Ryland full on giggle. It was such a sweet sound. He wished he could hear it again.

As the couple finally managed to compose themselves, they just smiled at each other for a few moments. One of them tucked a strand of hair behind the others ear. And then they kissed, a soft press of lips, and Alex looked away.

There were a lot of things Alex could give Ryland. Laughter over stupid things. Kindness when he hurt Alex’s feelings. Breakfast on the mornings he was extra grumpy and they hadnt gone shopping so Alex was forced to use his imagination.

But Alex couldn’t give him what that couple had. That romantic, fluttery, closeness. It wasn’t his place to give, after all. He didn’t like Ryland that way. He didn’t dream about kissing Ryland or stroking his face or undressing him slowly on cold winter nights. He didn’t do romantic relationships like that. Goodness whenever he did, he was bound to ruin it somehow.

A loud ping startled him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at his phone, blinking a few times to make sure he was seeing things right. Expecting it to just up and disappear, Alex moved his thumb slowly over the notification. He pressed down, Tinder suddenly booting back up. Ryland had finally matched with someone. Holy shit.

The guy was one of Alex’s top choices, too; A game designer with full head of dark brown hair, a square jaw, and a winning smile. The guy had many simular intetests to Ryland and seemed to be an upbeat guy-something Ryland needed, by Alex’s experience.

While Alex was staring in shock at the phone screen, another notification popped up. A little message icon. Alex quickly moved to his inbox, where the guy, Carlton, had sent a quick greeting. Alex shook himself out of his stuper and took a deep breath. Okay, he could do this. All he had to do was sound like Ryland. Easy, right?

Hey, there. He paused, fingers hovering over the keys. Should he add an emoji? If it was him, he would, but Ryland… Okay, no emoji. Just click send.

Seconds went by and another message appeared. So I hear you’re into video games?

Alex swallowed, starting to panic. If Carlton asked Ryland’s favourite video game or most hated, Alex could answer no problem. But what if he wanted to know why he liked it? What if he wanted to know his favourite parts? His dissection of the structure of the game itself?

Another message came right after. I’ve got an awesome arcade I go to on the weekends. I’d love to take you sometime, if that’s not too forward.

Alex slumped back in the booth, relaxing. That was much better than answering questions. He tried to think like Ryland-well, a Ryland that would say yes to a date that quickly. After a few minutes, he typed out a reply.

That sounds great! I’m free this weekend. Noon Saturday alright?

Another quick reply. Awesome. We can meet at the Starbucks on 5th. I’ll bring my game face.

Alex smiled, setting his phone down on the table. He’d done it. He’d actually done it. Ryland had a date all set up for this weekend and Carlton seemed like the perfect match. And even if he wasn’t, no doubt someone else would match with him later. It was a win-win.

Ryland was going to be so happy

[noooreva]

another shot

Fandom: SKAM

Relationship: Eva Kviig Mohn/Christoffer Schistad

Summary: After four years of not seeing him, Eva runs into Chris at a club. One shot. AU.

(read it in ao3)

Okay, so in this story 4x10 never happened and Eva and Chris broke things off for a whole other reason :) There are probably a few typos here in and there (english isn't my native language), but I hope you enjoy it! Also, WARNING: it's very explicit!

The club was bursting with activity as Eva tried to mantain a conversation with her friends at the bar. It'd been so long since she'd done this —go clubbing— that she felt a little out of her element, especially when all she wanted was to catch up with her high school friends and couldn't manage to do so because of the extremely loud music.

God, when did she become this?

There'd been a time when she got shitfaced almost every weekend. Of course, the hangovers had been awful, but being able to feel that careless had been worth it. She'd hooked up with guys, danced all night and had so much fun. At that time, catching up with her friends hadn't been necessary, since they saw each other every day at school. Life had been really good.

Eva was twenty-one now, and while she was happy with her life, she had to admit it was a far cry from her high school days. Nowadays she lived alone (completely alone) and busted her ass off everyday at college. Sadly, that left little to no time to see Noora, Vilde, Sana and Chris, so weekends had to do.

But today they'd decided to change things up a bit. Instead of their usual dinner reunion, they went to a dance club.

"Girls, I can't hear you at all," Eva shouted over the music.

"That's because you're not supposed to talk at clubs!" Chris replied.

Noora rolled her eyes. "I'm actually with Eva on this. We should've just met at my place."

"What?" Vilde said.

"Nothing, let's just go dance!" Chris said. She finished her drink, urged the girls to do so as well —Eva had to admit her stomach didn't really like to do shots anymore, much to her dismay— and went straight to the middle of the dance floor, with everyone following close behind.

Eva felt really uncomfortable at first, with bodies pushing her to get through every two seconds, but eventually the alcohol started to kick in and she felt herself starting to relax. Suddenly neither the mass of sweating bodies or the heat were that bad. God, she'd been so stressed lately. She could let loose a little.

"You should let loose!" Chris shouted. Had she spoken out loud?

When Get Ur Freak On sounded through the speakers, she showed everyone what a party girl she'd been a few years back. She lifted her arms as her hips rotated in sync with the music, and they all started to sing (even Noora).

Okay. This was more fun that she'd originally thought.

Eventually, men started to take notice of the little show the girls were giving and some approached them with invitations to drink. The bolder ones would just grab their hips and start dancing behind them, and some even whispered dirty promises in their ears, but except from Chris and Vilde they all brushed them off. Sana and Noora were both happily in relationships with their high-school sweethearts, and Eva just wasn't feeling it. She was single alright —she was a bit ashamed to think of how much time had passed since the last time she had sex— but none of these guys particularly held her interest. Perhaps she'd grown out of the whole one-night-stand thing.

Admittedly, it didn't hurt her ego to have guys throwing themselves at her, but by the tenth one she started to get annoyed. She'd come here to have a good time with her friends, and she was getting tired of men being all over her squad. When another pair of strong arms slid around her middle and pulled her into an even stronger body, Eva was fuming. She only had time to see Noora and Sara widen her eyes before she felt a low, deep voice whisper in her ear.

"So we meet again," her stranger said.

Only this was no stranger at all. She would recognize that voice anywhere.

Eva closed her eyes and said low enough so only he'd hear her. "Wh—what are you doing here?"

She felt him smile against her neck.

"I came to dance, just like you. Are you surprised? Have you forgotten about me?"

God. She wished.

There was no way in hell she'd forgotten about Christoffer Schistad. Yes, it had been over three years since the last time they saw each other, but she would remember him even if it had been ten. In her wildest days, Chris had been her go-to guy, her permanent hook-up.

For all the reputation she acquired in high school, she hadn't really slept around that much. There were some disappointing Tinder experiments, just after she broke up with Jonas, but after that it was all Chris. At the very beginning it had been just kissing; after that, they started to fool around whenever a room was available at a party. Finally, they began to sleep together. But they only had a few encounters until Chris had to leave for college.

Eva preferred not to think about the last night they shared. Not even after all these years.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him.

"Halla, Chris."

His hands didn't leave her hips and used them to push himself further into Eva's space, until his chin was eye level with her eyes and their chests brushed. He gave her an appreciative head-to-toe look, and licked his lips hungrily.

"You look really good."

Eva forced herself not to lose her composure. After all, it was one of the things he'd always liked about her. She always gave him as good as she got, never went all lovey-dovey eyes around him.

Wait. No. You're not doing this because he likes you like this, Eva. You're doing this because he doesn't deserve to see another version of you.

"And you haven't changed one bit," she replied.

"Why, thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"It wasn't? I remember you liking me back then, and since I haven't changed—"

"Chris," Eva interrumpted him. She put her hands in his chest as an attempt to put more space between them. "I meant that you sound exactly like the party boy you were a few years back. Not that you haven't changed... physically."

She couldn't lie about the last part. Chris was twenty-three now, and it was amazing what four years could do to a person. Whereas he'd been a boy before, the body in front of her was all man now. She could feel his hard chest under her hands, could see how the fabric of T-shirt stretched around his biceps.

Involuntarily, her hands moved around the tiniest bit, trying to feel this improved version of his former lover's body.

Chris smirked knowingly. "Yeah, and you seem to like that."

Eva hoped the dark lights wouldn't let him see her blush. "Blame the alcohol," she replied.

"What do you say we go somewhere a little more private?"

"Um," Eva said. She turned around to her friends. Vilde seemed to be busy sucking a guy's face, Chris stuck her tongue out and gave Eva a thumbs-up, and Sana raised her eyebrows but smiled a little bit, as if she wasn't really surprised. But Noora looked at her with concern. She was the only one who knew how she'd felt after Chris left for college.

And that was enough to make her remember why this, why talking to him wasn't really a wise choice.

She turned around to face him, ready to decline his offer, but he beat her to it.

"Come on," he smiled, a little less flirtatiously and frindlier this time. "Just so we can talk. I haven't seen you in ages."

She sighed. She caved. Eva wanted to know how he was doing, too. And it was hard to resist those pleading eyes. Harder than she'd thought.

"Okay, let's go hit the bar."

Chris gave her another one of his smiles and grabbed her hand, leading her through the crowd. Eva jumped a bit at the contact, not fully prepared for how good it felt to have her fingers laced with his.

She'd missed him, she realised. She'd missed his touch. His presence.

When they reached the bar, they sat down in two stools so they could order more drinks. Eva knew she shouldn't keep drinking, but at the same time, she wouldn't be able to handle a reencounter with Christoffer Schistad without more alcohol in her system.

"One Rum and Coke and a glass of white wine, please," Chris said to the bartender.

Eva raised her eyebrows. "You remember what I drink?"

He gave her a meaningful look.

"You'd be surprised to know how much I remember."

No, no, no. This I can't do. Flirty Chris she could handle way more than Serious Chris. This version of him she'd never been able to read.

She struggled to respond, but after a few seconds, he just snorted and shot her a smirk. "Plus, you seem too sober."

"And you're trying to get me drunk?"

"Well, you know how things ended up for me when you got drunk, my little stalker..."

Eva snorted. "Yeah, okay. That was ages ago. I can handle my liquor better now," she said. And just for shits and giggles, she added, "and I have better judgement."

Chris raised his eyebrows, but smiled nevertheless. "Ouch. I guess I deserved that."

When the bartender slid their drinks toward them, Eva rushed to drink hers. She definitely needed more liquid courage.

"Nervous?" Chris taunted.

She swallowed. She was so out of her element. Always had been, with this guy. Very few things fazed him; he was always in control of every situation, always taunting her and everyone around him, always trying to intimidate her. Well, he wouldn't be able to this time. Twenty-one year-old Eva wasn't the same girl he'd left behind four years ago.

"So," she swallowed. Change the topic, Eva! "What are you doing these days?"

He smiled, as if he knew what she was up to, but still decided to indulge her. "Well, I got a Business degree and I've been working as an intern in a company. So, you know, I help with contracts, finances, have to come up with marketing ideas, the usual."

"Have they offered you a position yet?"

"No, but they will soon."

"Always so confident," Eva smiled. "Well, the Penetrators were the most popular guys at Nissen, so I suppose you're rather good at the marketing stuff."

"I guess," Chris smirked. "But that wasn't because of any marketing strategies."

"No?"

"No, we were just hot."

Eva snorted. "Right. Yeah, I remember."

He winked at her. "And what have you been up to?"

"I'm trying to get a degree in Graphic Design. If everything goes as planned I should be graduating this year."

"What could prevent you from graduating this year?"

"Lack of study, I guess," she shrugged. "I wasn't the most responsible girl back in high school. I'm trying really hard not to be that girl anymore."

"So, no more parties for you?"

She smiled. "Tonight's an exception. But yeah, I definitely haven't been partying that much."

"Just my luck that I found you here, then," he gazed at her intently.

Eva didn't answer. What was she supposed to say? And what did he even mean by that?

She took a few sips of her drink and a wave of heat hit her; just another sign that the alcohol was kicking in. She'd definitely have to tread very carefully from now on.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?"

Fuck. Why did she ask that?

Chris smirked. "Nope," he answered.

"Once a fuckboy, always a fuckboy?"

"Nah. I just... haven't found anyone worthy of my time," he said, and later added, "yet."

Eva had to make a conscious effort not to drop her gaze. She bit her lip nervously.

"Do you?" Chris asked her.

"Do I, what?"

"Do you have a boyfriend? Are you still with that hipster guy?"

"What?" And then she remembered. "Oh my god, are you talking about Jonas? Jesus, that's ancient history!"

"Well, I haven't seen you in a while, so I thought that maybe..."

"That we'd gotten back together?" Eva laughed. "No, no way. We're on good terms though. But that's it."

Chris nodded. "Good to know."

Eva raised an eyebrow. "I haven't told you I'm single, though."

"By the way you keep getting closer to me, I'd say you are," he said. Then, deep in though, he added, "then again, you were unfaithful once. With me of all people."

"That's a low blow," Eva said, though she couldn't keep the smile of her face. It was a touchy subject, but it had been so long ago it seemed a bit funny now to remember her as a seventeen-year-old, crying in a Black Swan costume, making out with a teenage version of the man in front of her.

She also couldn't help but notice his remark had been on point. She was getting closer to him. Shit, were they flirting? Was she flirting?

Chris laughed. "Sorry, yeah. If it helps, I was unfaithful that night too."

"Like I could forget. Your ex later slapped me and gave me a letter with period blood on it," but she found herself laughing at the memory. "Jesus, how screwed up."

Chris softly grabbed her hand and started touching it. Carefully.

Slowly.

"We were just a couple of kids though."

Eva swallowed. The contact was making her dizzy. And his meaningful stare, so close to her, was making her nervous. "Yeah."

Chris paused. "We're not kids anymore."

"I guess not."

"You should come back to my place."

Fuck.

"Chris..." she sighed.

"Eva," his fingers left hers to slowly make their way towards her lips. Then he rubbed them with three fingertips. That contact alone was more erotic than anything Eva had felt in the four years they'd been apart.

But Chris semeed serious. When they first hooked up, he'd hidden behind his fuckboy façade, and nothing had seemed to faze him. Now he looked at her as if he...

She couldn't even bring herself to think about it. But it was a look she'd only seen him on their last night together. Before he left for college.

"I missed you," he whispered. The words almost got lost in the midst of all the noise, and Eva wouldn't have heard them if it hadn't been for how close together they stood. Her heart seemed to stop beating.

"So you're leaving tomorrow at seven a.m., yet you're here?" she asked as Chris planted kisses all over her neck. "Oh," she sighed.

"Yeah," he said as he licked a path from her neck to her earlobe. Then he bit it. "But what better way to say goodbye than this?"

"Jesus, Chris..."

Their mouths met frantically as they hurried to get themselves out of their clothes. When Eva stroked his abs, Chris groaned.

And grabbed her hands to stop her.

"What? Don't think you can handle some little teasing?" she smiled, but freezed when she saw him looking at her intently. "Chris?"

"I just..." he swallowed. His gaze had darkened and he was clearly turned on, but he looked serious, way too serious for a moment like this. "I'm... I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to this."

"This?"

"To us," he clarified.

The memory hit her like a bucket of ice water. Eva couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone when she replied. "Did you, really?"

"You wouldn't believe how much."

"Yeah, you must have missed me a lot everytime you slept with someone, right?"

She wanted to take back the words as soon as she said them. Eva was aware of how... jealous she sounded. She didn't want to sound like she cared, so while Chris looked a little taken aback by her response, she rushed to add something.

"Look, I'm just kidding. This has been nice, Chris, but I need to get back to my friends, so..." she drunkenly gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and, before he could react, ran back to the dance floor.

It took a very conscious effort on her part not to look back. Not to think about how incredibly nice the contact of her lips against his cheek had felt. Not to think about what his reaction might've been had she not ran away from him.

Would he have grabbed her and kissed her desesperately, as if he couldn't wait any longer?

Or would he just have stood there, making her unconfortable and trying to figure out the motives behind her kiss?

Damn it, Eva, you're thinking about it!

Suffice to say, when she reached Noora's side, she was a complete mess.

The blonde seemed surprised to see her. "I thought you'd definitely be gone by now."

"Do you think I should have?" she shouted over the loud music. Here, in the middle of the dance floor, it was almost impossible to mantain a conversation.

"Um..." Noora gave her a tiny smile and spoke directly to her ear. "I think that's up to you, Eva. For what it's worth, he's come to visit me and William a few times, and he seems way more mature than he was in high school," she paused. "But I have no idea what he pretends by talking to you."

"You do," she groaned. "We all do."

Noora bit her lip. "You should do whatever you want."

"Yeah, but that's the thing, I don't know what I want. I never seem to know what I want. Jesus," she cried in frustration.

So she'd oficially become a sad, sloppy drunk. The problem was that yes, she did want to go to his house. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, sleep with him, wake up next to him. The whole package. But the first time he left her had been hard enough. And Eva wasn't sure she could handle a second one.

She was about to cry to God for some help, for some sign of what she should do, when Sana called for her attention.

"Eva," she said. "You've been studying like crazy. You never go out. And I haven't seen you excited about the prospect of a hook-up since, well, the Penetrator boy himself. You should go with him."

"Yes, but what if..."

"If he hurts you, I'll rip his balls off, okay? I make sure he'll never gets five feet near you again. But you deserve a night of being careless, don't you think?"

Eva was once again surprised by how perceptive her friend was. She'd never really opened up about Chris to anyone but Noora (as far as they knew, there had never been any feelings involved in her hook-ups with Chris), but Sana probably saw through the façade when she was all stressed up like this.

Eva hugged her. "Thanks, Sana. I'll think about it."

"Well, don't think too much," she replied. Eva smiled. "No, seriously, I mean that there's no time for you to think too much. Chris is leaving right now."

Eva quickly turned towards the door to see that, effectively, Chris was leaving. A sense of panic invaded her; her mind was shouting at her to go after him. She decided to trust it and not overanalyze her feelings, whatever they were.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Okay, yeah. I'll text you girls, okay? I love you!" but she was already going to the front door.

She was a woman possessed. Flashes of her last night with Chris kept going through her head, but she tried really hard to suppress them. They were fucking hurtful, and when she stopped to think about them, the message seemed pretty clear: hooking up with Christoffer Schistad would lead up to no good.

But therein lay the problem. She didn't want to think. She was tired of thinking. Her first reaction when Sana told her he was leaving was to follow him. The urge to be with him burnt so fiercely inside her that she couldn't think past that.

She'd missed him, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye again. Not yet, at least.

Let her suffer the consequences tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to spend a night with him.

"Chris!" Eva shouted when she spotted him. He'd already stopped a cab and was about to get inside.

Don't overthink.

Don't overthink.

Don't overthink.

Chris widened her eyes. "Eva, what—"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence. Eva slid her hands slid around his neck, pulled him down and locked their lips together.

She was kissing him.

Him.

Chris.

He tensed for all of 0.3 seconds, startled by her change of behaviour, but quickly catched up with her. He wrapped his arms around her torso and brought her closer to him, pushing his tongue inside when her lips parted.

God, she'd missed his kisses.

Shivers ran down her spine as she tried to get her body even closer to him. When she felt the outline of an erection pressing against her stomach, she couldn't hold back her moan.

Chris pulled back slightly to stare, then growled a "Fuck". He was about to pull her back for another kiss when the cab driver shouted at them.

"Are you getting in or not?"

Chris looked at her with a question in his eyes.

The decision is yours, Eva.

"Yes," she nodded. "Yes, we're going."

Thank God it was a short ride to Chris's apartment, because things got heated in that cab. Eva was afraid that if they talked too much she'd get cold feet, so she'd kept their lips locked and bodies pressed together, leaving no room for a chat. The cab driver even threatened them twice ("clothes on, or you get off my car"). Chris just smirked and kept kissing her, and she didn't remember ever feeling this turned on.

They were a mess of limbs when they got inside his apartment.

"God, Chris, where is your bedroom?" she sighed as he sucked her neck. Chris pulled her into his arms and lifted her up, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist. Her breasts pressed against his chest and their hips gyrated against each other, providing glorious friction.

Fuck.

Eva's fingers burrowed through his hair as he angled his head, covering her mouth with his once again. While she lifted herself up and down, writhing against his stomach, Chris stumbled like a drunk toward his bedroom.

"Eva," he grinded out between kisses, "maybe we should talk first."

"No, no, no talking," she bit his lip. "Please, I just want to feel good tonight."

Chris's eyes wore a troubled expression. He hesitated.

"Please, Chris," she sighed, planting kisses all over his neck.

"Okay," he breathed. Then he nodded. "Okay, we'll talk later."

Eva slipped her legs from around him and slided down his front, to her feet, all the while Chris struggled to rip his jacket and shirt off. Eva unzipped her dress and let it drop to a puddle at her feet, staying only in her bra and panties.

Chris devoured her with eyes full of mischief.

"My little stalker..." he went for her neck again. He began trailing wet, butterfly kisses along the side of it. Eva's breath hitched when he started to suckle on a particularly sensitive area. "God, you're so hot..."

His words were killing her.

Everything was killing her.

"Chris, I can't wait." He groaned and picked her up in his arms, only to lower her to the edge of the bed. He stood at the edge of it and Eva went to her knees so she was eye level with his chest. She ran her fingers up the grooves of his abs and all through his flat chest, and then managed to free his belt. She eased back on the bed and locked her hands on his neck so he'd have no other choice but to follow her down.

Their mouths met once again as Chris slid his hands up and down the side of her body. His mouth went downward; his hands went upward. He nipped at her breasts and used one hand to unhook her bra, his breath oh-so-hot on her skin and his tongue wet and warm.

Eva's head rolled a little on the bed as Chris reached between them to lick one nipple and then the other. Her hips rolled against his in a sexy grind simulating the rhythm of his mouth.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

"Eva," he sighed against her skin. He slowly licked a path towards her navel while tugging her panties down her legs, leaving her completely naked. When he opened her legs and kissed her thigh, he gave her a look that was pure sin.

He licked his lips and lowered his head.

Eva could swear she was in heaven.

His tongue came in to brush tentatively against her sensitive skin, and she let a loud moan escape her. Chris must have taken it as a sign of encouragement, because the gentle, tentative first stroke was worlds away from what he had planned next. He feasted on her, laving her and drawing her clit between her lips and sucking until it felt like all the blood from her body had rushed to that exact spot. She was weightless. Dizzy. Completely trapped in his net.

"Fuck." Her hips rocked against his mouth, one hand finding its way to his head so she could touch and pull his hair.

"Jesus, I've missed your taste," Chris growled against her. Within seconds the telltale signs of an orgasm appeared-- she clenched her inner walls and her thighs started to tremble. Finally, she let go and moaned his name, her body pulsating over and over.

Chris dragged himself up and gave her a smile that was both cocky and hot. "I take it that was good?"

Eva rolled her eyes. "Asshole," she said, but couldn't keep her lips from curling. She pulled his head down for a kiss.

"Do you remember," Chris said between kisses, then leaned to the right to whisper directly above her ear, "how I was the first who did that to you?"

God. As if she would ever forget that.

Eva thought he would follow that comment with another cocky remark, but instead, Chris closed his eyes and sighed, as if the memory both hurt him and pleased him. "Jesus."

He seemed so troubled.

She was, too.

But there was no way they were stopping now. Not before she could feel him inside her.

Apparently (thankfully), Chris had no intentions to stop either, because after a few seconds he dipped his head to hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth and taking a kiss that was fueled with pent-up arousal. Eva heard a zipper being pulled down and felt one of Chris's arm left her side to open up a bedside drawer near her head.

Oh, God. This was happening.

She clawed at his arms. "Chris," she moaned breathlessly, rocking her hips as he ripped open a condom and slipped it on.

Eva's eyes fluttered as he positioned himself between her legs and slowly sank into her.

Inch.

By.

Agonizing.

Inch.

"Fuck," Chris dropped his head to her neck. "Fuck, Eva."

She could feel the beat of his heart through his chest. Pounding so hard. So fast.

He moved in her slowly, and Eva closed her eyes so she could savour the lazy drag of him against her nerve endings.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She did as he said, and was struck speechless by the emotions washing through his eyes.

"I missed you," he breathed. "I swear to you. I missed you so much."

He never sped up his movements, but instead continued to rock back and forth in an even pace. The sound of their breathing and the quiet slap of their bodies as they connected filled the room. Eva moaned when he reached down and pressed a finger to the bundle of nerves between her legs.

"I... I missed you, too," she confessed on a whisper.

Chris groaned.

His forehead shone with a thin layer of sweat, the muscles of his abdomen tensing with every thrust of his hips.

"So you're saying..." Eva managed to say in-between thrusts, gasps and kisses. "You're saying you'd like to continue this?"

"Fuck, yes," he whispered. Then he grabbed her hips to slow down her movements. "I don't know how to do it, Eva. But I want to, okay?" He pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. "I really fucking want to."

Eva clenched her thighs around him tight, feeling the sensation build in her core. He grunted when he began moving in hard, measured thrusts, and pleasure shattered through her body. Rubbing faster between her legs, Chris captured her lips in his and plunged his tongue inside her.

She felt completely possessed, like he was everywhere all at once.

She quickly came for the second time that night, and soon she felt him coming, too, filling her as his breathing grew choppy and his movements began to slow.

"Eva," he breathed one last time, his forehead resting on hers.

Their hearts semeed to beat in time.

The room was quiet. Feeling too lethargic to move, Eva was curled against Chris's chest, completely nude as he ran a hand over her warm, sensitive spine.

"God," she moaned. "That feels... so good."

"Oh, yeah?" he smiled.

"Yeah, but don't tell your ego."

"It may be a little late for that."

She snorted. "I'm thinking of withholding orgasms in the future, just so you'll think you're not good enough."

Oh, shit.

She tensed. In the future? Was she crazy?

When she looked at him, his face had lost all traces of humour.

"Eva," he swallowed. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Chris, it's—"

"No, let me talk, please," he sat up in the bed and made her do the same. A sheet was covering them from the waist down, leaving their chests completely exposed. Chris grabbed his shirt and put it on her.

Eva looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"I can't get distracted," he gave her a tiny smile.

Damn him for being so cute.

"Eva," he started over. "I know I said I wanted more. And believe me, I wanted it. But I was nineteen and didn't know shit. I didn't know how to manage a relationship with you while being in college in a different country. And college was fucking hard at first. It was demanding, and eventually I got so consumed by it I stopped messaging you or replying to your texts, and by the time I realized how badly I'd screwed things up, months had already went by.

"One night," he took a deep breath, "I was back in Oslo for the weekend, visiting my family, and came by your house. I'd fully planned on apologizing, but when I stopped by your bedroom window, I... you were with your ex. Kissing."

Eva didn't know what to say. She remembered that day distinctly. She'd been so heartbroken over Chris and the way he'd cut her off, she'd tried to forget it all by hooking up with Jonas. It had been a failed attempt anyway. They couldn't get past a few kisses before Eva asked him to leave, since she wasn't really feeling it.

"Jonas and I didn't sleep together that night," she confessed him. "I honestly brought him home to try to get you off my mind, but it didn't work."

Chris groaned. "Fuck, seriously?"

"Yeah," she bit her lip. "I know we'd kept things casual up until the very last moment, but when you left, I realized I felt a lot of things for you. I kept wanting you to text, call, or just show up at my house, you know? You'd crawled under my skin, and I missed you all the time."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I screwed up, and when I saw you with Jonas, I figured you didn't feel the same way I did. So I thought I should just leave you alone and try to move on."

Eva sighed and plopped into the mattress. Chris followed her and kissed her neck. "I really am sorry," he said.

"Me, too," she replied, as her muscles started to relax all over again with his neck kisses.

"But I want to try again. I want to do things right this time."

"Mmm," she sighed, not engaging.

She didn't want to let him off the hook that easily. Fuck, she wasn't even sure she could trust him again so fast after all this time.

But she wanted to. So badly.

"Why don't we just," she leaned up and kissed his lips, "take it day by day?"

He pulled back with an unsatisfied expression. "I want you more than just for a day."

"We just met again a couple of hours ago. We need to think this straight, when we're alone."

"Actually..." he smirked. "I didn't meet you by chance at that club. When William mentioned Noora was going to a club, and with her high school squad of all people, I knew I didn't want to miss the opportunity to see you again. So you see, Eva, I already thought about it. And I want you. I want to give this a shot, for real this time."

Wow.

She was speechless.

"Who are you, and what have you done with the Chris I knew?"

"Penetrator Chris is long gone," he replied, caressing her hair. "I'd like to think I'm a little more mature now."

"I liked Penetrator Chris," she smiled at him.

"Yeah?" he kissed her, long and hard. Then he pulled back and gave her a look that was pure sin. "Trust me, you'll like Christoffer Schistad better."

So when another round of orgasms was followed with breakfast and an afternoon full of... domestic, coupley stuff, Eva thought that maybe, perhaps, she preferred this version of Chris after all.

[ohmytheon]

Killer Queen (Rebelcaptain, 4)

In which I unintentionally work through some of my issues of being a woman after having grown up being called “one of the guys” my entire life and Jyn figures out how to be more comfortable in her own skin. This was unexpected when I first started writing this kinda crack fic, but fluff and UST aside, I really had a great time writing this chapter. It was kind of cathartic? Also @fluffyfuzzball has produced some absolutely brilliant artwork that made me squeal and almost scream with delight: chapter one & chapter two. Like oh my god, look at those dresses and those facial expressions. ON POINT! And then @polynesianhermione made a fantastic and inspiring mood board for this AU, completely separate from mine, and it’s still somehow in tune with this fic with even Chirrut and Baze as Jyn’s coaches! I love this fandom tbh.

Summary: The Rebelcaptain Miss Congeniality AU that I wasn't planning on writing and yet here we are.

killer queen chapter four

This was it. The end. The worst part. The moment she had been dreading since she’d agreed to go undercover on this damned mission.

The swimsuit walk of shame.

Jyn rubbed her face as she stared at the bathing suit in question. Could it be a bathing suit if the material seemed to be lacking? How was it supposed to cover her anyways? Who had decided that turning an already flimsy piece of clothing into two even smaller pieces of clothing was a good idea anyways? She’d hoped that maybe she would get by with a one piece at least, but then this two piece monstrosity showed up and she almost screamed.

“I can’t do it,” Jyn said, unable to stop herself.

“Yes, you can,” Imwe insisted. “It’s only for a short period of time.”

“I can’t,” Jyn repeated, shaking her head. She was acting like a whining brat and knew it, but couldn’t stop that either. She’d never worn a bikini before. In fact, the last time she’d worn a swimsuit for others to see had been in gym class when she was in high school and hadn’t had a choice.

Imwe sighed, but it wasn’t tired or irritated. He was endlessly patient, but then, he had to be if he was going to be capable of working with her on this. “Jyn, why are you so afraid?”

“I’m…” She swallowed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this...bare in front of people.”

“Are you a virgin?”

Jyn turned bright red. “No!” But then it had been quite a while. Not that it mattered. The job came first. It was important to her. She didn’t have time for dating or anything else. Besides, no one had ever caught her interest. The only guys in her life for years had been an old dog and Cassian. “But it was always…in the dark…”

“I don’t know what made you think this way,” Imwe told her, “but you are an attractive woman. You shouldn’t feel like you have to hide.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Jyn pointed out. “You’re blind.”

Imwe smiled at that, never one to be insulted. “True, but I know how others react. It tells a much different story than the one you believe.”

Biting her lip, Jyn’s thoughts turned to Cassian, whether she wanted them to or not. She couldn’t help but think about the other night at the club. Okay, so she’d been a little buzzed, but she hadn’t been drunk or incoherent. She could still very much recall the way he’d held her against him, almost possessively, and how he’d looked at her with such open wanting. It had caught her off guard, but had her body humming as well. Not in an unpleasant way either. And then the way he’d gripped her tighter, leaned closer, she’d almost thought that he was going to kiss her.

Twice he’d called her beautiful. Cassian didn’t have any reason to lie to her, not about that, not even in an attempt to soothe her nerves over the op. Why was she so hesitant to believe him when she’d never questioned him before?

“I guess it’s just never come up,” Jyn finally said.

“No one has ever made you feel like you’re beautiful?”

She shook her head. “I was always too bossy, too aggressive, too… I don’t know.” She did not want to talk about this, but then, she had never liked talking about how she felt. It was easier to just push her feelings to the wayside and ignore them until she died. “You get treated like you’re one of the guys long enough; you kind of forget what it feels like to be seen as a woman. And it worked out for me. I’ve seen how some of the other female agents are treated. I never want to be like that.”

“Of course not, I can sympathize with that.” Imwe put a hand on her shoulder and she turned around to face him. No, he couldn’t see her, and yet it felt like he could. “But that doesn’t mean you should be ashamed of being a woman. It’s a part of who you are and it’s not a bad thing to want to be seen as a woman sometimes either. You are who you are -- mess, job, sarcasm, woman, and all.”

“Ugh, I didn’t know emotional therapy came with the beauty queen lessons,” Jyn griped, but there wasn’t any heat in her voice. She hoped that he’d heard the smile in it as she spoke. Judging from the way he returned it, he had and relief spread through her.

Did she feel any better about wearing the bikini? Not really. Did she feel more comfortable in her own skin? A little to be honest, which was surprising in itself. She’d always thought of herself as confident and comfortable with who she was, but this op was beginning to stir up some harsh questions. She wasn’t used to that.

Taking a breath, she took the swimsuit and slipped into the changing room. It wasn’t nearly as difficult to put on as the pageant dress, but she still had a moment where she could figure out how to get the top right. She pretended it was like tying the necklace her mother had given her as a child: just a simple tangle of strings, nothing difficult. Once it was over, she put on the heels (which honestly was a ridiculous combination -- who wore heels to a swimming pool besides maybe models? -- but it wasn’t like anyone was asking her), pulled on a fluffy bathrobe, and stepped out.

“We have to see what it looks like, Jyn, before we send you out there,” Malbus pointed out.

Jyn grumbled, her lips twisted into a frown, but slowly undid the belt and opened the bathrobe. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and stayed there as Malbus carefully picked at the suit. Despite his burly and aggressive nature, he was gentle with her, careful to touch her as little as possible. She appreciated that. There was no lingering gaze or suggestiveness in his handling. It was all professional and she felt only a little awkward. This was fine. It was just her coaches, one of which was blind. As long as no one else saw her until she was on stage…

“Hey, I finally managed to get ahold of the complaint records against Krennic--”

Shit! It was Cassian. Immediately, Jyn’s brain went into panic mode and her eyes snapped forward. He was walking towards them, his focus entirely on the file in his hands, totally unaware of what he was about to walk into. As if on cue, she could feel the air on every inch of her exposed skin. Malbus quickened his examination, fixing the back of her swimsuit, so that she could hide again, but it was too late. Cassian’s head was rising, his eyes lifting towards her, almost in slow motion for the warning signals going off in her head.

The second his eyes locked on her and he realized what she was wearing -- or rather, what she wasn’t -- his eyes widened in surprise and he almost dropped the file. Not only did her cheeks turn red, but the flush went all the way down to her neck and chest. It felt as if someone had lit a bonfire and used her as tinder. Honestly, she would have been grateful if they had; then she could’ve melted away and this would’ve all been forgotten.

“I, ah--” Cassian cleared his throat, but he didn’t look away from her. His face had turned pink as well, though she couldn’t imagine why. He was fully clothed. “The swimsuit part is tonight.”

“Marvelous deduction, Agent Andor,” Imwe chirped.

Jyn could die right now and probably be happy.

Cassian stared at her for another beat, an open mixture of emotions warring on his face, before he managed to shut them all down and was left with a blank expression. Or at least he did the best he could. Unlike every other time, the heat in his eyes did not leave. That gaze was burning her. She wanted to shoot him. He took a breath, similar to hers just minutes ago, and looked back down at the file. “It’s no big deal. You go swimming all the time at the gym in the Bureau, right?”

“Yeah, but never in a bikini and always after hours,” Jyn replied in a rushed voice. “I have an arrangement with the cleaning crew.”

This caught his attention once more and she really wished it hadn’t. Why did his gaze have to be so damn intrusive? It was maddening. “Why?” Don’t say it. “You look great.”

Jyn could only grunt in response. Once Malbus was done, she folded the bathrobe over herself again and held it shut tight against her like some sort of body armor. In a way, it was; this stupid, fluffy bathrobe was the only thing standing in the way of safety and humiliation for her.

As Malbus and Imwe conversed with one another in low voices about something, Cassian stepped closer to her so that he could hand her the papers to look over. Even as she took them, she was painfully aware of how close he was to her. She felt completely naked underneath the robe with him standing there, even though she knew that she wasn’t. He’d seen plenty of women in bikinis before and even less than that. For some reason, that only made her feel worse.

His presence was impossible to ignore, but she focused hard on the files and did her best. It wasn’t like they had never been this close to one another. The night at the club had been different, but this was normal. Her reading through a file as he looked over her shoulder. It was an appropriate enough distance. Maybe closer than normal, but they’d been partners for a long time. And he was looking at the file in her hands, not her. The only difference now was that she was in a bikini.

Oh, and then there was the voice in the back of her mind that wished he was somehow closer. Something very unbidden had shifted inside of her after the other night. It had been a long time since she’d been that close to anyone, especially a man, and she’d suddenly realized how much she missed it. She hadn’t thought she did -- the job was her life and that was that -- but she did. Even worse, whenever she tried to picture something like that happening again, she could only recall the way it felt to be pressed up against him, his face, his touch.

It was pissing her off.

“These are some nasty allegations,” Jyn surmised, forcing her brain to the task at hand.

“Nothing has been been legally done, but it looks like it’s getting to that point and the people running the pageant want to nip it in the bud while they can,” Cassian replied. “Sweep it all under the rug, as it were.”

Jyn scoffed. “Of course. Just get rid of him, pay the women off, smile for the cameras, and keep quiet.”

“I didn’t say it was a good thing,” Cassian pointed out, “just efficient.”

Both of them focused on the file again. It would be nice if they could catch him in the act, but the MC was acting on his best behavior in public, perhaps in hopes that the higher ups would change their minds and keep him on. He had denied everything, of course, and was threatening to sue for unlawful termination, but so far, it seemed like he was just blowing smoke. The allegations were just that right now -- there was that whole innocent until proven guilty in a court of law thing -- but if they got actual proof of his harassment of the contestants, it would be a lot easier to press him for questions about the bomb threats.

“It’s just smoke right now,” Jyn said, “but where there’s this much smoke, there’s usually a fire.”

“What are you thinking?”

“If we could force his hand, get him to show this sort of behavior, it’d be nice leverage.” Jyn glanced up at him. She could see his mind working as he connected the dots; she could also tell that the moment he realized what she was saying, he didn’t like it one bit. He frowned, but even more obvious was the suddenly stormy look on his face. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that he was a bit jealous.

“No, no way, you’re already putting yourself out there as it is,” Cassian told her. “But using yourself as bait for this bastard? I don’t think so.”

Jyn snapped the file shut. “It’s not entirely your call.”

“Are you sure? I believe I am the one running this op.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one in the middle of it. You trust my instincts, don’t you?”

Cassian quickly closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. She saw the trust in them, the same look he’d given her when he had told her at the club that he’d never thought she was hopeless. He still didn’t like it though. Well, if it made him feel any better, she didn’t either. She already felt like a sitting duck in this bathing suit and heels. Might as well add one more blow to her ego.

Jyn tore her eyes away from him. “It’s worth a shot, but I don’t think much will come of it. I’m not his type.”

“And why is that?” Cassian asked. It almost sounded like he was saying something different, something more along the lines of, how is that possible? But no, she was being ridiculous, reading in the middle of the lines. That had never been her thing; it was Cassian’s specialty. He could pick out things just from the way a person sighed.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not tall and blonde,” Jyn replied dryly, mentally adding, with a large rack. She was not going to talk about her breasts with him, no way, no how. She was crass by nature, but never about things like that and definitely not with her partner who she’d been grinding all over the night before. God, what was wrong with her?

“Well, you’ve got one thing,” Cassian said, opening up the file again. “He likes strong women that resist. I’d say that you’ve got that in the bag.”

She wasn’t going to blush; she refused. “Are you calling me difficult?”

Cassian grinned. “Let’s go with ‘willful’.” No, she didn’t think she liked that either, but before she could say anything, the grin disappeared and he took hold of her elbow. It wasn’t a tight grip, just a gentle hold as if to let her know that he was there, even though he was standing right next to her. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Shaken by the soft look on his face, Jyn deflected as best as she could. “In that case, tell Imwe that I can only wear flats from now on. Heels are dangerous.”

“But they’re great for your calves and butt!” Imwe called out cheerfully.

Both Jyn and Cassian hastily looked away from one another at that statement and he let go of her elbow so that he could take a step back away from her. She handed the file back over to him and looked miserably at the door that she would have to walk through to meet with the rest of the girls before going on stage. It felt a lot like she was about to walk in front of the firing squad.

*

For the first time since entering this competition, Jyn was in a panic -- and it was not because of some ridiculous outfit that she was being forced to wear. The fact that she had managed to make it through the cuts was a miracle in itself. She could almost forget the sparkly cheerleading outfit that Malbus had found for the talent part of the competition. Something had to distract the judges from the fact that twirling batons and fake rifles about wasn’t the greatest skill on the planet.

Except now all of her materials were gone and she was rushing around backstage like a mad woman.

Jyn ran up to one of the guys that worked backstage. “Have any of you seen a black bag? The one with my talent equipment?”

The guy made the unfortunate mistake of giving her a once-over, a smirk appearing on his face. Damn this bloody outfit. It gave some men the worst ideas. “Sure you’re not hiding them under your skirt?”

Before he could even blink, Jyn snatched him by the front of his shirt and jerked him forward so hard that his headset fell off. The smirk vanished from his face, quickly replaced by a look of shock. “Listen, you stupid pervert, I’m going to ignore that, but only if you tell me where that bag went.”

“I-I don’t know!”

Another guy rushed over towards them. “Was it the one with the weapons?”

“Weapons?” Jyn furrowed her brow. “They were props for my second round in the talent competition.”

“Security saw the rifles and--”

“They were fake! Plastic!” Jyn pushed the backstage employee back, nearly shoving him off his feet. He stumbled into one of the lamps, clinging to it tightly so that it didn’t topple over. She resisted the extreme urge to run her fingers through her hair or rub at her face, knowing that it would ruin all the hard work the stylists had done for her, even if she looked dumb. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

It didn’t work.

By the time she opened her eyes, the two men were slowly backing away from her. She didn’t care what they thought. Without her equipment, she was useless. What was she going to do? Go on stage and do a comedy routine? Now that was a laugh. She didn’t have any other skills. All she knew how to do was fire a gun accurately and throw men twice her size to the ground on the mat. Those weren’t beauty pageant talents. They were her.

Imwe’s words to her the other day popped into her head: You are who you are.

And she knew what to do.

Without a second to lose, she found Malbus and explained the situation. An intrigued look briefly crossed his face, one she didn’t think he was capable of, but instead of arguing with her or saying it was a stupid idea, he nodded his head and got to work right away. Convincing him wasn’t the problem. Cassian, on the other hand, was another story. He would not enjoy being dragged into the limelight, not when he was supposed to stay in the background and he had already been seen by a few of the contestants. Luckily, she had a plan. It was half-cocked, but it was better than nothing.

The second she heard her name called, Jyn walked onto the stage and waved at the crowd, smiling shyly at them. It was supposed to be endearing. She hoped Malbus would catch onto it and relay it to Imwe, who had her practicing her smiles in the mirror every night and day.

Once the crowd’s applause died down, Jyn folded her hands behind her back and wobbled on her feet. “Well, I was supposed to be showing you a bit of talent regarding my history with the color guard, but apparently, plastic rifles are not something to mess around with. My apologies for any inconvenience I caused the staff.”

There was actually a smattering of laughter through the crowd. Had her sarcasm finally come in handy for something? That probably wasn’t what Imwe had had in mind when he’d told her to be true to herself in his own way, but it was all she had now. No tricks, no coaches to back her up and tell her what to do, no earpiece with Cassian guiding her through this -- just herself.

“Since that is out of the question, unless you all enjoy miming, I decided to showcase something a little different: self-defense. It’s not a typical talent for a beauty pageant, but I believe it’s important for everyone, especially young women, to know in case of emergencies.” She could see people in the crowd nodding their heads and many even began to clap. It bolstered her spirits in a way she hadn’t expected. “I can’t do this alone, however, but luckily, I met a handsome gentleman the other night that was kind enough to help a girl out.”

Holding out a hand to the side curtain, Cassian appeared, though she noted that he had to be pushed by Malbus. He walked onto the stage, wearing a bright but sheepish smile. The crowd clapped again as he waved, looking all to the world like a slightly embarrassed man who had been thrown into a very unexpected situation. He still wore that look when he turned to face her, but his eyes were as close to murderous as her gaze usually came. Oh, sure, he was used to being undercover, but never in a spotlight like this. He’d only had a few minutes to prepare.

“Lucky for me, Mr. Sward was eager to return my call,” Jyn told everyone, giving them a wink. The crowd laughed.

When he was standing right next to her, Cassian leaned in, that grin still plastered on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed through his teeth.

“Showcasing what I do best,” Jyn told him with a hand over her mic. She smiled at him and pat him on the cheek, making him blink and raise his eyebrows. “Beating you up.”

Cassian was not amused by that, but he didn’t let the grin slide from his face. He was a good sport like that. Of course, by the end of the self-defense demonstration, he definitely wasn’t grinning any longer. In fact, he wasn’t even standing anymore. She’d knocked him off his feet, quite literally, and he was still laying there when she took a bow to a boisterous applause from the crowd. After she helped him to his feet, they both bowed again and then all but rushed off the stage. Well, she rushed; he sort of limped with a hand pressed to the small of his back.

“You are certainly one hell of a woman,” Imwe said by way of greeting as he floated over to her. He kissed her on both cheeks and was practically beaming. Behind him, even Malbus was grinning a little. Jyn felt like she was on cloud nine. Not only had she done something that she loved and was good at, but the crowd had enjoyed it as well. She was elated, smiling big and as close to laughing as she had been since the beginning of this op.

The only person that seemed to not have enjoyed the show was Cassian, judging from the way he was grimacing. He had taken a pretty decent beating without complaint though. Her smile faded as she bit her lip and the two of them walked slowly out of the backstage area as the other contestants got ready for their turn on stage.

When they were out of sight, Jyn cornered him, laying a hand on his arm and one on his side. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cassian told her, still slightly bent over. “I’ve had worse.” She opened her mouth to apologize -- for springing this on him and for, well, knocking him around on stage -- but he took the hand that was touching his side and squeezed it. A genuine smile appeared on his face. “You did good. I’m proud of you.”

Relief blossomed in Jyn’s chest. A small voice told her that she should pull away from him, but she didn’t. She stayed where she was and he didn’t let go of her hand. She remembered when she had been afraid that she would disappoint him or ruin this op for him somehow, but to hear simple words like that from him meant a lot. She had done good and she’d done it by being herself or as close to it as she could in front of a televised audience while parading as a beauty queen.

“Besides, I think it got the ball rolling on your other little plan,” Cassian said as he forced himself to straighten up. She looked at him questioningly. “You were focused on Imwe, so you didn’t see the way Krennic was eyeing you. Looks like you might have changed his mind on his type.”

“Good, maybe I can beat him up too,” Jyn quipped. “That would be a lot more entertaining.”

“I don’t know,” Cassian sighed. “It seemed like you had a pretty good time out there.”

Jyn shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it did feel good to let off a little steam.”

Cassian gave her a little bow and said, “Glad I could be of service,” before squeezing her hand again and finally letting it go. She couldn’t deny that she missed the contact immediately. “Now you might want to change out of that outfit before you give anyone else any ideas.”

And moment effectively ruined.

[welcometotheonethatgotaway-blog]

Chapter 1 - 24th March 2017

You get hit by it when you least expect it. And I am not talking about the flu or some similar disease, although considering the outcome one could categorise it as a deadly condition. I’m talking about the over-mediatised topic in shows; the thing we so desirably search for our whole life. The one thing that can destroy or repair us in a matter of seconds. Yes, I am talking about love. Well, what I perceived as love. As you read this you might think that I’m over-exaggerating everything that I’m saying or that I’m making stuff up, but, honestly, I am not. So sit back, relax, and enjoy my longest not-so-love story that lasted all of 2 months.

It all started in such an idiotic manner. It was an innocent night, I was talking to some not-so-innocent people on the internet (don’t think of anything dirty… yet) and just feeling quite bored. At some point I innocently thought to myself: “Hey, I could make some time pass by swiping Tinder. I am not looking for anything in particular, but it’s nice looking at cute faces one in a while”.

So I started swiping (not gonna lie, most of them I swiped left, which, for whoever doesn’t know, means that you don’t want to match with the person that has popped up) and I hopelessly and aimlessly did so for about an hour or two. But from one swipe to another I stumbled upon someone. Nothing went through my mind except the fact that he owned the same onesie that I had. A Star Wars Chewbacca one, £15 from Primark. I thought it was kind of humorous so I swiped right (which means you want to match with the said person) and *drumroll* IT’S A MATCH! For the sake of confidentiality I’ll just refer to him as Rob.

So after matching with this Rob person, I was interested in finding out more about him. So I did what people usually do before swiping right, which is check their profile. By doing this I got to realise that this person I matched with is actually pretty damn adorable, not gonna lie. So I initiated conversation and took the role of the “I’ll text first” person. I made a remark about having the same onesie and we hit it off from there. We played a nice game that I proposed that involves “I ask one question, you ask one question”. And, just how any conversation with me goes, it got to the question of “Do you have snapchat?”. The answer was yes so we moved on to there.

 As a parallel to this story, I use snapchat a lot. And everyone who knows me knows I use it a lot. But most people don’t take the time to think why that is. It’s because nothing stays. Everything is temporary. All the pictures, all the texts. Unless screenshotted, (which shows), or saved, they’re just gone. This gives any insecure person like me, a tiny sense of security. No screenshots of WhatsApp convos, no saved pictures to show, no evidence of anything that’s happened that I won’t know of.

 ANYWHORE, moving on. There were some flirty remarks directed towards me, which felt nice, but at that point I was not looking into anything of the sort. I just wanted to un-bore myself. So we continued snapchatting back and forth for a solid 2-3 hours.

Not to bore you too much I will skip the tens of selfies exchanged in those hours and jump to where it gets interesting.

So it’s about 10:30-ish PM by now, at this point we were talking about meeting up for a coffee or something. I jokingly responded with “What if I come by your place tonight?”… Ok, I totally get how that sounds and trust me when I say it was not what it seems to be. At first I asked that as a joke, anticipating a negative response, but… little did I know that his answer was positive. So, me being me, and being incapable of making decisions, I divert the conversation off subject while thinking hard of what to do. I know I could have just said no because it was too quick and weird or I could say yes because hey, cute boy, never done this before, so why not? But instead of it being an easy decision it took me almost an hour. Overthinking is a bitch and I’m so sorry if you do it too. Anywhore, so I make my decision aaaaaand, well, let's just say THIS is where it all officially starts.

So I text him back saying that I’ll leave my house soon and so I did! Packed up and by 11:30 PM I was outside. No turning back. At this point I was still not fully realising what was happening and what the consequences could be so I didn’t react in any way. But the moment I step foot in the bus I thought to myself: “Crap. I’m going to the other side of London to meet a complete stranger, who can, for all I know, be a murderer, or rapist, or just a general psychopath.” So, having my anxiety levels waaaaay over my limits, I start panicking. I had to call someone. The first person that came to mind was a friend of mine who, as myself, studied in the UK. I’ll refer to her as Steph. So I message Steph that I did something stupid and ask if I could call her and to my luck she said yes. So she asks what’s up and I say: “I did a booboo… Iiiiiii… may-or-may-not-have-met-someone-on-tinder-and-now-I’m-on-my-way-to-meet-him! (heavy breathing) So, I’ll be at postcode *insert postcode here* if I don’t call you in 2 days call the police.” I was legitimately petrified. I did not know what was going to happen, who was I meeting, or better said what kind of person was I meeting and talking to Steph made me feel better. (sidenote: THANK YOU STEPH <3 ) At least I did not have a panic attack in the bus. That part comes later…

So, as soon as I get to the tube station (the place where Rob lives will be kept confidential because, you know, I’m a decent human being?) I take a tube line and change at a station for another tube line and badabing badabong, an hour and a half later I was there! I was genuinely terrified. As soon as the tube doors opened I ran up the already moving escalator stairs, feeling how my chest was getting tighter and tighter and my lungs were receiving insufficient amounts of oxygen. I  rushed out the station door and lit up a cigarette (ironic right?). Freaking out, I called Rob and asked him to come pick me up. And so he did. I was looking out for him and PRAAAAAYING that he’s not taller than me (yes, that’s what I was thinking, judge me). And then, I saw him. But, unlike a normal human being who would let the other person know that you acknowledged them, I turned away and pretended I didn’t see him and let him approach me. When he was about 5 meters away from me I lifted my eyes from watching the floor, to the horizon and there he was. Approaching me, this boy, just as tall as me (or maybe 1 cm taller), with a full gingery beard (by full I don’t mean long, I mean just a really nice one that covered most of his roundy cheeks and just looked soft and all-round beautiful to be honest), a blue beanie that left his short fringe cover his forehead and blue eyes that made me think twice about loving brown eyes. I think you get it the idea that in split second there were fuck ton of things through my mind. I felt something I have only felt once before in my life. I didn’t know what it was. I had a hunch, but I didn’t want it to be true. But I pulled myself together and tried acting normal. Well… ‘normal’. So I half smile and with an awkward wave I shyly speak out: “Heeey”. To which he, with a half smile (which was and is so beautiful and charming that I just couldn’t anymore), replied: “Hi!”. And we hugged, because, quite frankly, I am a hugger, and we begin walking towards his apartment.

I tried to be as open as possible in this time and was kind of trying to cope with everything:

“Hey, just fyi, I’m absolutely terrified and I am so sorry for this.”, I said while showing him how hard my hand was shaking.

“Oh come on, it’s ok. I’m not an axe murderer” he replied in a jokingly way with a slight chuckle.

“Well even if you were then I won’t have any assignments left to do so it’s a win-win situation!” I replied, and we both laughed :) #BestIceBreakerAmIRight?

So we continued walking and walking until we had to take a left down a weird alleyway. Truth be told it was really creepy.

“Uhm WHERE are you taking me?!” I exclaimed. “You want to rape me don’t you?” (obviously said sarcastically).

“Yeah, just ‘round this corner is my rape cave!” he responded (again obviously sarcastic).

And we laughed it off and continued walking and surprise surprise we were at the entrance of his flat! We entered and so it begun.

“Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water?” he asked.

“Some tea would be nice, thanks!” I answered.

“What kind?”

“Whatever you have.” I answered, not sure what else to say since I am so horrible at picking and making a decision.

He then opens a cupboard FULL of tea boxes to which he adds:

“Mate, I’m British. I own a lot of types of tea. So pick. I have…” and he started naming out ALL the kinds of tea he had, to which I respond:

“Just a black tea. Earl Grey if you may?”

“Sure thing!” he replied.

So he made me and himself some nice hot cups of tea, during which we had some small talk (more like me complaining about being a student) and then we went into his livingroom and sat on the blue, obviously worn out, IKEA couch.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll continue my ‘Grace and Frankie’ marathon” he said.

“By all means!” I replied.

“Have you ever heard of this show before?”

“Can’t say I have. To be honest, I don’t really watch tv series nowadays... My free time is spent talking to friends online and playing games”

“Ok so. It’s about…” and he goes on to tell me the main plot of it and what I should know without giving any massive spoilers.

“Ok. Great thanks!” I respond and then we carry one watching.

At that point, even after all I described when we first met and afterwards, I did not want anything to happen. I just wanted a nice, cosy night, where I just waste time with this guy I just met and have a giggle.

While the show went on in the background we began talking and basically making small talk. He seemed like a genuine person. He seemed like one of those people who would just say anything to you in such a manner that it would be 100% true and not hurt as badly as it should. Later on, I came to learn that, although this was true, his decision of being so straight forward was not always the best of things. But, going back to the story line, while meaninglessly talking about random stuff, I noticed that he was paying more attention to me than the show. Me. A stranger. Someone he has just met over a dating app a few hours prior to that. And he was taking an interest into what I was saying. And being nice, even though he told me he was “a massive cunt” (his words, not mine). But I didn’t see a “cunt” that night. I didn’t even see a complete stranger. I saw someone that cared about my story. That cared about what I wanted to say, when few other people did. And that did not change till the end of the story. And for that I will be always grateful. Thank you, Rob. For everything.

At the point when the episode ended there was a slight silence for about 5 seconds, when he jumped out of the couch and said:

“Right. Wanna move somewhere more comfy?”

“Where? This couch is already more comfortable than my bed in my room. At least it doesn’t have a spring going into my back…” I responded with a slight chuckle.

“That couch is nowhere near as comfy as my bed. So, if we may?”

“Sure thing! Leggo!”

And I chugged the remaining quarter of a cup of tea that I had and we switched moved to his bedroom.

Truth be told, he was bragging earlier about how comfy his bed was and how I will fall in love with it once I lay in it. But me, being the bastard that I am, did not believe until I saw, or in this case, felt it. So we get there, I sit down and just exclaim:

“Oh. My. God. You weren’t joking…”

“I told you didn’t I?”

“Yes you did.” Point at which I fall on my back and whisper: “I’m never leaving this bed hooooooly shit…” Rob giggled and sat on the bed.

We then started talking. We talked and talked for a while and it felt amazing. I was thinking to myself: “Wow. He understands me. Or at least he tries to. How is this happening? Why is this happening? What am I feeling right now? Is this ok? Should I continue talking to this person? Am I doing the right thing? Will this come back to me and bite me? Am I really doing the right thing? Why? Why do I keep on talking and sharing stuff some people that have known me for years don’t know and why does it feel so right but so god damn wrong? Why? Ok, just pull yourself together. Don’t freak him out like you do to most people.” Mind you this happened in a matter of seconds. So… I get up and sit next to him and we continued talking. And it got to a point where we almost kissed, but I borderline denied it. I was not ready. And I was not even sure if I wanted that. I didn’t know what I wanted. I kept telling myself that I don’t want anything, but I was feeling the exact opposite. He giggled a bit after I “rejected” the kiss (if you want to use that word) and we moved on with our conversation.

At one point he laid on the bed, facing upwards. So, me being the socially awkward but sometimes ballzy person that I am, I laid there aswell and placed my head on his soft, comfy belly. In that moment I was in bliss. I felt like everything was great and nothing wrong was going on in my life. I felt safe for once in a long while. And that was an amazing sensation.

After a series of conversations he got up to drink some water and check his phone. I took the liberty to place my head on his lap and we continued talking. And this is where something very weird happened. I don’t remember what we were talking about. I don’t remember how the next part happened but I know for sure it did. There’s a blank space in my memory. Like it got wiped out. But… I place my head on his lap and (sigh)… the next thing I know our lips collided. At that point, time just stopped. I could feel the softness of his lips as well as the roughness of his bearded face. I, again, was in bliss. This is one of the only moments that absolutely nothing else went through my mind. It was just me and him. Nothing else. This doesn’t usually happen to me. It takes a lot for someone to make that happen and I was pleasantly surprised it did. Thank you, Rob. For everything.

It was hard to get out of that moment. It truly was. And once I did and I looked at him I felt so vulnerable. I giggled bit. The look he had in his eyes was so precious. I can still see those beautiful, perfect, blue eyes just looking at me like I was a trophy (or so I thought). I felt something I haven’t felt since I was 13. But then it happened again: “Wait. What’s happening? What JUST happened? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is this ok? Was it the right decision? What was I thinking?! I don’t know this person! But it felt so right though. But was it? What did I get myself into? What am I doing? What if I get too attached again? It was just a kiss. But it felt like it was more than that… Oh God. Ok. Ok. Calm down. It’s gonna be fine. Just calm down. Breathe.”

Luckily I didn’t have a panic attack. I have no clue how I didn’t, but I’ll take it.

After that “event” we talked for a bit and got into bed. Now. Don’t worry. There’s not going to be any gross details because again, believe it or not, I’m a decent human being and I would not like to overshare something that: a) might be WAY too inappropriate, b) would piss off Rob, c) would make people start speculating stuff. Plus, it’s my private life and this story is already letting you peek into one of the most important and private experiences of my life.

 But anywhore, we get into bed and we cuddled and “cuddled” for a good few hours. This was not supposed to happen. This was purely a happy accident and me not thinking straight (*giggle*). I didn’t want anything to happen and I just wanted a chill night without any strings attached, with, you know, clothes on, without it evolving into what it did and most certainly WITHOUT feelings getting involved. But, as always, life surprises you when you least expect it, am I right?

So we did whatever we did (don’t let your imagination drift away too much because most of the things you’re most likely thinking of didn’t actually happen) and we would sometimes stop and chat. And that felt amazing. It wasn’t just “cuddles” for me. It felt like something else. But you know, people don’t always feel the same way you do regarding some stuff.

Ok. Here I’ll go into a tiny bit of detail because I find it quite funny and apparently he did too. So. We were talking and at one point he said:

“Ok, turn on your side.”

“Uhm… Why?” I said with a slightly confused voice.

“Turn over with your back towards me, I wanna spoon you.” He explained.

“Ooooooh okay! Truth be told, I’ve never spooned before.” (yes, I know, I never cuddled till now when I’m 19. And what? Judge me :P )

“Oh my God!” He exclaimed with a slight giggle. “You’re such a gayby!”

This was a completely new term for me and so I asked borderline laughing and in confusion:

“I’m sorry, I’m a what? Baby?”

“Noooo! Gayby. Like baby, but you know on the gay side.”

(Ok. As a side-note, since I want to make this as close to truth as possible, I am not sure if that was the first time he called me that. He might have used it when I told him he was my second boy kiss but hey, I have the memory of a goldfish. AT LEAST I’M TRYING RIGHT?) <=[

So at that point I had my first spooning session (it sounds so sexual but it wasn’t, trust me) and I realised something I have been assuming for years now: “I would soooooo choose to cuddle and spoon with someone rather than, you know, ‘cuddle’.” After that happened, we went back to facing each other. I looked him in the eyes and he was looking back at me. I felt so open. Like had a clear path to my memory and everything I had repressed there. It scared me. But not enough to close up. It was a good kind of ‘scary’. I have never felt so… secure with myself while there was someone else next to me. It’s like all my insecurities disappeared for a minute and I wasn’t worrying about my body or face or anything. I was free. I was safe. At that point I hugged him and whispered:

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he answered with a slight chuckle.

“For everything.” I whispered back to him

And then there was silence. Smiles. A kiss. And sleep.

[chasitysceusa-blog]

mature women porn - Easy Ways You Can Turn Old Naked Ladies Into Success

After a day of non-stop walking around (thank god this character wears sensible shoes! After a while with my feet up settled on the bed, I couldn't resist grabbing my phone and flipping through Tinder for a while to see what's what, swiping away merrily for a little while. For Saturday's cosplay I had an all-new outfit - Rise from Persona 4's winter uniform, consisting of a long-sleeved black blouse, patterned short skirt and thigh-high stockings.

) I stopped off for a drink and a meal with my friends, but with everywhere packed and all of us feeling tired after a late night of drinking before there wasn't much appetite among us to stick around, and we soon went off back to our hotel rooms.

It was convention weekend for me again this weekend just gone, and as much as I'd been looking forward to it my enthusiasm had been dimmed a little - in the weeks and months leading up to the event I'd been talking to a couple of people (both girls) who wanted to meet me during the event, but both of them had backed out at the last minute, leaving me feeling a little annoyed.

Most of my matches didn't reply (and were probably busy drinking or with friends) but I did eventually get one quick and basic "Hi" response. "On my way" came the quick but brief response, and I felt my heart rate increase. It's not the most revealing outfit I've ever worn by any means, but there was something about it that left me feeling pleasantly sexy - I got plenty of complements about it, and could feel plenty of gazes on the small areas of skin that showed between the skirt and stockings.

Hopping up, I grabbed my room card and took the lift downstairs, nervously stepping out as my eyes swept across the lobby. It was less than five minutes before I got another message: "In the lobby. After a couple of minutes of pondering, I replied "Sure" and told him the hotel name I was in.

I saw the recognisable but simple blue outfit of Finn from Adventure Time with his back to me, and realised he was sat at a phone charging station in the lobby. Turning around to present an attractive face with a light beard (which wasn't in keeping with his cosplay quite frankly) he recognised me, apologetically showing me his phone as if to prove that his battery was indeed about to die as we exchanged pleasantries.

Still, once I arrived on Friday I soon forgot all about that, and spent the day hanging out with a group of friends - having a good time with them at the show, then going out and drinking rather a lot before returning to my hotel and collapsing in bed, only to find myself waking up early again the next morning.

Another awkward moment ensued before I asked what happens now. Taking a deep breath, I headed over to him and said hi. "Okay" I said slowly, buying some time for my brain to catch up and the horniness which had built up all day to push me to do something. "Want to lay on the bed? " I normally prefer to spend a little time exchanging messages, figuring out expectations and sounding out the other person before meeting them, but he looked pretty attractive and my day of being undressed by so many pairs of eyes at the convention had left me wanting to do something.

With a slightly bashful shrug, he told me that he's the kind of guy that likes the girl to take control- in other words it was up to me, which wasn't particularly something I was used to. His eyes intently upon me as I faced him standing next to the bed, I took another deep breath before letting my hands reach up under my skirt, my fingers hooking into the waistband of the simple black knickers I was wearing before I slowly pulled them down as his eyes and smile both widened.

" "Okay" he said breezily with a smile, not even stopping to kick off his shoes as he sat on the edge of the bed then swivelled to lay himself down on it. Realising my intention, he shuffled down the bed himself, and so I was soon directly above his head, giving him a perfect view up my skirt at my bare pussy.

"Do you want to lick me? After a little awkward standing around, I asked if he wanted to come up - he nodded and unplugged his phone, asking if I had a charger in my room to which I laughed and told him I did. I'm cosplaying as Finn". We talked a little about the convention and cosplay in the lift and down the corridor into my room, and once there I fished out my phone charger and plugged it in before stepping back for him to connect his phone.

As my wetness and arousal built, I couldn't stop myself moving my hips against him, the tickling of his facial hair now outweighed by the pleasure between my legs. Feeling his hands guiding me down I sank lower, holding my skirt up while giving him easier access to me naked old mature women and enjoying the benefits as his tongue licked and explored me.

This went on for what felt like some time - I stopped holding up my skirt at some point, not thinking about how I now couldn't even see mature women the face of the person licking my pussy under it and concentrating only on how increasingly good it felt. These feelings eventually left me gripping the duvet and bucking my hips while his hands gripped my ass cheeks to try and hold me in place as I came with a few loud moans, before half toppling off him once my clit because too sensitive.

" I asked, a little quietly, already lowering myself towards him. Brushing my hair back and leaning forward, I took him into my mouth for a few moments, just long enough to coax him to a full erection before opening and putting on the condom. I heard no response but didn't need to - I felt his hands stroking the outside of my legs, followed by his head lifting up the bed for his tongue to trace over my exposed pussy, making me shiver.

Moving over to my bag, I fished around and found a condom, returning to clumsily undo his shorts and pull them part way down his legs along with his boxers, which led to his almost completely erect penis springing free to reveal itself. It took a few attempts to get the angle right, but after some shuffling and adjusting myself I eventually got it right and allowed myself to slowly, carefully sink onto his cock.

I replied with a greeting back, and another response quickly followed that left me torn: "On 2% battery. He pulled me down lower still once he found my clit, and I could feel his beard tickling my thighs as he focused almost solely on that area. Fully inside me, I luxuriated in the feeling for a while, enjoying his intent stare at where our bodies were joined before I began to move on him.

I'd planned to take it slow and tease him a little, but my impatience soon got the better of me and it wasn't long before I was moving on him quickly, moaning and sighing as I moved up and down on top of him. I rode him for about five minutes before my day of walking started to creep up on me, and I started to feel my legs cramp up. Picking older nude women myself up off the bed and getting unsteadily to my feet, I looked at his now glistening and smiling face - a smile I couldn't help but return as I told him to stay where he was.

Hopping up off of him and stretching my legs a little by the side of the bed, I told him it was his turn to mature women black women porn do the work, ushering him off the bed so I could lay in his place. Stepping carefully out of the underwear which I deposited on the floor, I climbed onto the bed myself - first kneeling beside him, then swinging a leg over to straddle him at chest level before shuffling upwards towards him.

For a while he sat back on his heels, holding my legs up and apart as he fucked me, occasionally looking at me but mostly just watching his cock moving in and out of my pussy. "Kind of" was his response before, hesitatingly. Pushing my skirt up and opening my legs, he was quickly back on the bed kneeling between them, getting into position and penetrating me again, easily this time.

Finally, I unclasped my bra and let that drop to the ground too, leaving me in nothing but thigh-high stockings as I saw him admiring my body. " Nodding and pushing him away I got up, undoing my skirt and letting it drop to the floor and then unzipping and removing my top.

Once he found a rhythm he fucked me like this for a little while, before moving to lean forward and start thrusting harder against me while I wrapped my stocking-clad legs around him. This done I straddled him again, this time hovering over his cock and taking it in my hand. This went on for a while before I quietly asked if he was getting close. After quickly shedding his trainers, short and t-shirt he did just that, rubbing himself against my opening for a while to test me wetness before slowly slipping back into me.

He was a quiet lover, so all I could hear was my own moans and wetness, enjoying the sensation but not really feeling like I could cum any time soon. For my part I was enjoying the experience more too - his increased arousal at my naked body was thrilling to me, and I'd also deliberately positioned myself so that I was on all-fours almost directly in front of the rooms mirror. "Can I see more of your body?

We talked a little as we both dressed again, before he checked his phone and the time and apologetically made his excuses to get back to his own hotel and his friends. From the outset I could feel an increased vigour in his movements now, and the position allowed his hands to wander, groping at my swinging tits, kneading my ass, rubbing my back and legs before gripping my hips so that he could fuck me harder.

Pulling out, we both remained quiet for a while, before he confessed that he couldn't believe that had happened. Thankfully, my secret wasn't out - a couple had decided to get it on in a tree-lined gravel area right in front of the main bar everyone drinks at, and needless to say they got caught. mature women sexy ladies Letting him out I said goodbye, before returning to sit in front of the mirror and masturbate myself to another orgasm.

Come Sunday morning, I almost had a heart attack - one of my friends came running excitedly up to me at our meeting place almost shouting "did you hear about the cosplayers who were having sex? I watched my face as he fucked me, my tits moving with his thrusts, leaning up to get a view of his cock inside my pussy. That fantasy lingering in my mind and the night before grew into an itch that needed scratching as the day progressed, and I found myself having a few more conversations with Tinder matches, most of which had left the previous day to my disappointment.

It wasn't quite enough to get me off unfortunately, and before I could build to an orgasm I felt him speed up, breathing heavily before unloading his cum inside me into the condom. The convention practically over and my friends having had enough, we all headed back to our rooms again.

Realising he was waiting for me to take the lead again I returned to the bed, clambering onto all fours with an obvious invitation for him to move in behind me. He was a little heavier set than I'd imagined from his pics but not unattractively so, and with time at a premium we only swapped brief introductions before I led him to the lift and my hotel room.

As soon as we were in the door and heard it click shut the rushed series of events continued - as soon as I'd signalled I was still up for this we were stood kissing passionately and frantically, and within moments I felt my skirt being pushed up and a hand roughly pushing its way into my knickers. With that in mind, things followed a similar pattern to the night before - the prior teasing and talking and feeling one another out went out the window, and he asked bluntly whether I fancied a quick fuck.

Finding my growing wetness, he rubbed my clit vigorously for a while then tested that wetness by slipping a finger into me. There was something quite arousing about being asked point-blank like that, so back at my hotel I decided to wait in the lobby and invite him over.

I leaned forward, putting my hands onto the bed in front of me, and after hearing his jeans dropping to the floor I felt him flip up the red skirt and slowly sink into me. For my part, I'd been having a conversation with one guy that had reached something of a crescendo - we'd been talking on and off in free moments during the day, but he was due to leave and go home shortly so time was almost up.

He fucked me hard, moaning about how good my pussy felt, then how he was about to cum, which he soon did. Five minutes later he arrived, dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans while I was all dressed up as Asuna from Sword Art Online - white bra and knickers with some lacy trimmings, white thigh-high socks with red patterning, red skirt and white cloak/coat and gloves, white shoes with modest heels.

Pulling out, a quick mention of how hot that was and he was gone with barely a thank you. Not my best convention experiences then but not a complete disaster either, and the fantasy of being fucked in public and being seen and watched still hasn't quite gone away. To be honest the sex was disappointing - even with the excitement and arousal of this hurried fuck there was nothing that made up for the fact that it was all over in two minutes.

Part of me was rather aroused by the idea of being fucked there and filed it away as a fantasy for another day as more of the second-hand story was relayed to me. Feeling frustrated, I spent some more time in my room looking for another option to satisfy me, but in the end I was left with just my own fingers to bring myself off to a couple of orgasms and satisfy myself for the evening.

no" I responded worryingly. His hands were soon grasping the white knickers and pulling them down to my knees as quickly as he could muster, before he turned me around before stopping to rifle through his wallet for a condom.