#only to shove his ass out of the way in season 2 and never give him any ground for the entire rest of the show

[scattered-winter]

the worst thing about keith genuinely being one of my favorite characters on the show is that he has like. the most storylines. and development. and the most rabid fans. and even the show fundamentally misunderstood him (shoved him into a role he neither wanted nor was ready for in any way and in doing so changed him so completely that he wasn't the character i first fell in love with because he got turned into Sword Shiro)

[fastlikealambo]

national anthem:older!steve x black fem!reader

summary: steve harrington is running for president of the united states as the democratic nominee. he's polling well, people like him because he actually intends to keep his campaign promises, he's got great hair and a cute dog.

there's one problem: he doesn't do relationships, he's been seen doing the walk of shame too many times and his campaign manager has had enough. he needs a wife, or a least someone to smile and wave his messy ass through election season before disappearing into obscurity.

that's where you come in.

you're a sweet virgin kindergarten teacher who looks like disney animated birds help you get dressed in the morning. on paper you're perfect for the job and you have student loan and medical debt so you will silk press and laugh your way to the democratic national convention.

here's the thing:

you can't stand his pompous ass and he gets all tongue tied and sweaty when he gets within 2 feet of you.

it's gonna be a long fucking campaign.

bonus: here's two songs that are the background music in this chapter. can you figure out which song goes with what scene? I'd love to know your guesses.

angel - halle bailey

death of me - pvris

chapter one: washington, d.c.

“They’re calling you The Future Slut in Chief, Steve.”

Erica threw a paper in Steve’s lap, pinching the bridge of her nose before sinking into a chair to drink her iced coffee,  the only thing to keep her from reaching across the table and throttling the future President of The United States.

Steve looked down at The New York Post, a picture of him in his boxers leaving someone’s apartment dead center. He shrugged, putting his feet on the table and leaning back in his chair. 

“I look great and besides it’s the New York Post, nobody reads The New York Post, Sinclair. After the speech today no one will give two shits about that, nothing to worry about.” He said, shoving his sunglasses back on his face to block out the fluorescent lighting.

Four more newspapers with nearly identical pictures knocked the sunglasses right off his face and the forty year old nearly fell out of his chair.

“You can’t throw things at me, that’s treason.”

“Not yet.” Erica said sweetly.

“They’re making fancams of you and I quote, ‘ your slutty little waist.” Holly Wheeler said, Erica’s assistant said with a giggle, showing her boss her phone, the same bridge of some Cardi B. song filling the conference room over and over again.

“Send me that to me, won’t you Holly?” Steve said, reaching for his coffee.

“Do not send that to him Holly.” Erica sighed, pushing Steve’s legs off the table before standing up.

“Look Harrington, I joined this campaign because I believed in you. You had feasible ideas, a moral compass, the hair of a Kennedy and so much money I sometimes want to call the IRS for fun.”

“What was that last one-

“Never mind that. Everything about you screams all american but because you don’t have a partner or spouse,  to the general public it also screams ‘I may or may not have people in my basement.’ Nobody likes a single male president.”

“James Buchanan never married.” Steve grumbled.

 Steve Harrington didn’t do relationships, he had his fun every night, came home to his dog and empty apartment and focused on doing some good in his community with the outrageous inheritance his father left him. 

 There was no time for wives or husbands and that’s exactly how he liked it. 

“James Buchanan thought a dime was enough money to live on so maybe not the best example. Steve, you have a chance to be the next leader of this country but doing the walk of shame at your prehistoric age is not going to get the votes you need.”

Erica was absolutely right but Steve would be damned if he said so.

 “You need someone at your side for the last leg of the campaign and I’ve taken care of it. She’s been checked out and briefed, you’ll meet her on stage tonight when you introduce her, I’ve had Nancy edit your speech.”

“What the fuck Erica!” Steve yelled but Erica ignored him.

“She’s smarter than you, beautiful, and most importantly, she’s likable. So if you want to sit in the Oval Office for the next four years, you’ll wear the Tom Ford suit and act like this is the greatest love story ever told. You don’t have to talk to her outside of events if you don’t want to but you will do this. I have yet to fail you so trust that I can do the job you pay me handsomely for. Got it?”

No.

Absolutely not.

There was no way he was going through with this.

“To wrap up my speech so we can all get home safely, I want to introduce you to someone. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, to this campaign, to this country! I’m so proud to finally introduce my fiancée, let’s give her a big hand!” Steve said with a big smile at the cheering crowd, proud of the fact that he didn’t immediately vomit when the word fiancée came out of his mouth.

The click-clack of your heels coming up a staircase had Steve’s heart in his throat. At some point his clapping was no longer forced as he waited for the worst blind date of his life to appear on stage. 

“Get it together Harrington, turn on the charm for two minutes and get the fuck out of here.” He thought to himself.

He could handle this.

Two seconds later, he was wrong.

So, very, wrong.

If there were words to truly describe how beautiful you were, Steve did not know them. 

How could he?

How would ecstasy describe ecstasy?

Fuck.

Like Erica drilled into him a thousand times before the DC rally began, he reached out his hand to you, now enveloped in the scent of orchids and shea butter, and brought you into his arms for the world’s gentlest and fastest embrace. Your lips met with Steve’s cheek with a sweet laugh that made the crowd go wild as you pushed him forward towards the mic.

But no words came out.

That man was so busy looking at you he didn’t know the closing to his speech, the stump speech he had been giving for months now, the one he could recite in his sleep and accidentally yelled out during sex that one time.

A full ten seconds of uncomfortable silence with a sweaty man had you suddenly in front of the mic.

“I’m so happy to be a part of this once in a lifetime event supporting Steve! We’ve got a lot of work to do to get to the ballot box but we are ready to elevate and encourage our beautiful country towards a brighter future! Good night everyone, drive safe!” You nearly yelled into the mic, applause bursting through the audience.

You were quickly ushered backstage away from journalists, happy to get out as just as quickly as possible but Steve followed right with you.

“I-I had that back there!” Your fiance and future president choked out.

“Oh, so you can talk, wonderful! A thank you for saving your ass or a nice to meet you would suffice. I didn’t know a presidential nominee much less an adult man could drool like an infant but you’re full of surprises Mr. Harrington.” You said, rolling your eyes. 

“I was not drooling!”

“My shoulder’s all wet Mr. President.  Are we done here, can I go now?” You asked, turning your attention to Erica.

“I’m so glad you two are getting along! One more picture for all the socials and then you are free to go, Hopper and your security detail will make sure you get to your hotel safely.” Erica said, grabbing her phone for the picture.

“Big smiles, you two!”

You still couldn’t get over the fact that 24 hours ago, you were crying yourself to sleep wondering how you were going to pay your bills and get back on your insurance and now you’re prom posing with America’s Next Top Leader.

“I couldn’t have possibly drooled on you, you wanna know why?” Steve said through a frozen smile.

“Not really.”

“If I got the next First Lady of The United States all wet, you’d know, honey.” He whispered in your ear. 

Motherfucker.

Next stop: Maryland! I hope you enjoyed this, I’m not too sure if it's any good :)

[sp00kycrumpet]

Find A Way. (2/4)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: season 1, soft!Joel, reader was besties with Maria, idiots in love refusing to admit it, pre-established relationship

Warnings: swearing; character death; spoilers (if you haven't watched the series/played the game)

(Part One)

Will also be posted on my AO3

I hope you like this second chapter. I feel it maybe moves a little too quick? But there's only so much you can write about travelling alone without it just looking like filler... I hope everyone still enjoys it 🙏🏻 feedback is welcome! ✨

That was months ago now. The radio had been silent the whole time and you burned through your supply of cigarettes and other assets to bribe people for information on Joel's whereabouts or even Tommy. Nothing. You'd had enough of the silence and not finding anything, so you went straight to the source. Marlene.

By the time you arrived at her hideout, she was packing her things; pausing from time to time to rest a hand against a wound on her side. She hadn't noticed you at first but paused after a moment and turned to look at you.

"I should have expected to see you here." She muttered, tossing her last notebook into her backpack.

"It's been months. Where did you send Joel?" You watched the other woman, she shook her head a little.

"I'm sorry. It's a need to know basis." You clenched your fists in frustration. You had a lot of respect for Marlene but right now you were starting to lose it.

"And I need to know." Marlene sighed, studying your face. "Marlene. Come on. Joel has been gone far too long now, you sent him away and you can't even tell me where? After I constantly saved your ass by giving you FEDRA info that even your top guys couldn't get?!" Marlene sighed as she eased herself down to sit on the edge of her bed, looking up at you.

"This is bigger than that. You know I'd never deal with Joel unless absolutely necessary." You groaned in frustration, pushing your hands through your hair as you watched the other woman.

"You're alone. You're injured. I can help get you out of the QZ without even a bug knowing you were passing by. All I need to know is where he is." Marlene pursed her lips, a snort leaving her.

"You're in love with him. And you'd risk your life just to catch up to him?" Your jaw tensed, staring at her silently for a beat.

"I just need to make sure he's okay. He's been radio silent, so has Tommy, so have Bill and Frank. I don't like it." Marlene shook her head as she reached to zip her bag up, awkwardly stiff as she pulled it onto her back then stood up.

"You get me out of the QZ. Once we're outside of the walls and out of sight, I'll tell you. Deal?" She held out a hand, you studied her quietly before taking her hand firmly in yours. "Alright. Get me the fuck out of here."

True to your word, you took Marlene through the tunnels you, Joel and Tess usually used. A couple of people threw curious glances your way but no one stopped you. Marlene was quiet for the most part, only subtle grunts of pain here and there as she walked behind you. Once underground, she needed a break. You helped her redress her wound and shoved a couple of pills into her hand. Marlene watched you closely as you fastened the bandaging around her midriff.

"You're really going to risk your life for him?" You grit your teeth and made a noise in the back of your throat. Marlene shook her head, leaning back against the wall behind her as she broke one of the pills in half and swallowed it with some water. "I knew there was something between you two. He had this look on his face when I said he couldn't tell you where he was going or why." You didn't reply, you just sat down and fished some jerky out of your bag, snapping some off to eat.

"He's different. Things just aren't so shit when I'm with him." You finally answered, your eyes on the bottle of water in your hands. "He keeps me grounded." Marlene nodded a little.

"Can't say I understand, romance has never interested me but, if he means that much you'd risk your life then it must be mighty powerful." You nodded a little, that little voice in your head scolding you for telling her too much and that you should have said all of this to Joel instead. The two of you rested for a little while before continuing on your journey, it took a little longer than planned but eventually you got her out and a safe distance. Marlene pulled a radio from her bag and arranged a pick up before turning to you.

"The old State House. He's supposed to drop something off for me there and come back." Marlene finally said, you watched her for a moment before nodding.

"Thank you." She waved a hand.

"Just don't get yourself killed over him. He should have met my guys there and been heading back this way. If you're lucky you might cross paths." You paused and nodded, shaking Marlene's hand. You exchanged farewells before you turned and headed back to the QZ. Once home, you threw what you could carry into your backpack and headed out. It would take a few days but, you'd cover as much ground as possible.

What you hadn't expected was it taking longer, the city wasn't as clear as you'd expected. Something had stirred the Infected and they were shambling around relentlessly. But eventually the huge building loomed ahead of you, fear gripped your heart as you smelled fire. All sorts of scenarios flashed through your head as you picked your way through the charred remains of Infected. It stunk and you were doing your best to not panic as you looked at the bodies around you. Some Fireflies, some just general public. Off to one side though, you spotted a figure slumped against a column. You almost dismissed it until you realised there was something familiar about that body. You carefully climbed over a couple of Infected and pried the one off of her. The body covering hers had protected a few sparse items from the fire and you recognised a bracelet immediately.

"Oh Tess… what happened to you?" You sighed, your eyes wandering the burned body. A faint bite mark was sunk into the charred skin and you figured she'd sacrificed herself to get Joel out of there. "We didn't get along but you didn't deserve this." You carefully pried her gun from her hands but upon inspection realised it was useless. You glanced around the remainder of the building and sighed softly.

"Where'd you go Joel…?" You whispered to yourself. No sign of him here, no sign of where he'd gone or anything. You pulled yourself together after a moment, standing up and starting to head out of the back door. You had no idea where to go, what to do now. You were at a solid dead end.

You felt tears of frustration building as you sat outside the husk of the State House, your head in your hands as you tried to figure out what your next move would be.

"No. What would Joel's next move be?" You muttered, glancing around for inspiration. When it seemed to hit you like a bolt out of the blue. Bill. Joel would probably head to Bill's for supplies and maybe rest. You rested in a small building after boarding it up once you were inside. Your fingers idly toyed with the necklace still around your neck. It seemed to help you think and relax. As soon as the sun rose, you were awake and making a move. You'd met Bill a few times in the past, Joel had taken you up there with him when Bill and Frank had invited him to trade or to just socialise. You adored the couple and they seemed to like you too. Maybe they'd know something, anything. At least they'd take you in for a couple of days, maybe Frank would let you stay with them permanently. He had repeatedly joked about you and Joel moving into the house across from theirs so often you were starting to think he was genuine in his offer.

It took a few days but eventually you were at Bills gate, a little unnerved by how it was unlocked. That wasn't like Bill. You took your pistol from your holster and quietly made your way through the town towards the house. The first indicator something was wrong was that Bill's truck was gone. But more than that, the garden that had once been Frank's pride and joy was in disarray. Your heart was in your throat as you entered their house, calling out to no response. You could smell rotten food as you turned into the dining room. This was bad. You found Bill's note on the table, your heart breaking as you read what had happened. They were gone. That explained their silence recently, Joel had known in his gut that something wasn't right. You wandered through the silent house, taking a photo of Bill and Frank to remember them by and grabbed a change of clothes. You found signs Joel had been there, firstly his shirt still tossed on the bed from where he'd obviously showered and dressed in some of Frank's old clothes. You sat on the bed, the worn fabric wrapped around your hands.

"Where are you Joel…" You muttered and buried your face into the shirt. The smell of Joel still on the fabric. You had only just missed him it seemed. You knew this was a wild goose chase, you were too far behind to catch him and no way of contacting him to find anything out. Your best bet was to keep moving. You were out of the QZ, why not just keep going and see what you could find?

In the next town over, you found a motorcycle. Rusty in parts but perfectly usable condition. It made quicker work of moving across the roads rather than on foot. It was starting to get cold out and the warm engine provided some comfort as you drove with no real destination in mind. The more rural parts were quiet for the most part, the bike attracted a couple of clickers but you were quick to evade them.

Somehow, like the fates decided it, you found yourself in Wyoming and into the hands of a blast from the past you never thought you'd see again. You were hunting, trying to scavenge something to eat when you were tripped by a rope tied discreetly between two trees, the snow hiding most of it. You swore under your breath and rubbed your sore ankle, hardly having chance to react when a gun was in your face. You held your hands up, staring up at the man in front of you.

"I'm not sick. Just lost and looking for food." He motioned with his rifle for you to get up, silent but his eyes said everything. You pushed yourself to your feet and he forced you to walk with him to a couple of others, a few on horseback.

"Found this one on the edge of the forest." He said to a man sat on his horse. He eyed you silently for a moment before whistling.

"I'm not sick." You repeated, getting annoyed now. You'd done so well to avoid anyone else this far and had been caught out by the basic need for food. Another stepped forward with a dog on a short leash.

"She's trained to sniff out infected. If you're lying, she'll rip you apart." The dog was let loose, and naturally it just sniffed at your legs before trotting back to it's handler.

"I fucking told you." You muttered, your arms already aching from holding them up.

"You alone?"

"Yes. Just looking for supplies. I don't want any trouble." A couple of the men laughed.

"They all say that but you turn up here, armed and claiming to be alone." You opened your mouth to argue when a couple of others joined the group. A woman on horseback stopped beside the man interrogating you, looking at him before her eyes fell on you.

"No fucking way." She breathed. "Lower your guns. Now." A few argued with her but she repeated her command as she climbed off the horse. You stared at her as she walked closer, a hand protectively on her pregnant stomach.

"Of all the weird shit that's happened over the past few years, I would never have bet on this." You blinked, watching as the woman pulled her scarf down from around her nose and mouth to reveal her whole face.

"Maria?!" You choked out, staring into the face of your childhood friend. Finally she laughed and wrapped you up in a tight hug. You'd grown up with Maria, your parents lived next door to hers. There was barely a few years in age difference and the two of you had been inseparable. You were even Kevin's unofficial Godmother but you'd been on vacation when the outbreak started and never thought you'd see her again. Maria explained to the group that she knew you and that it was fine. She helped you up onto her horse and told you she was taking you home.

Home turned out to be a highly guarded and fully powered compound in Jackson. It was beautiful. Like something from a storybook. Inside the gates were families, farms, shops and everything. It was a little slice of heaven. Maria explained she'd found this place years ago and had worked hard to get it up and running again, fortified and a safe place to live. She took you back to her house, a modest place near the edge of town. She made tea and explained everything so far, even how she'd found love and was expecting again.

"Oh, speak of the devil and he shall arrive." She smiled as the front door opened.

"I hear you found somethin' while out today." A southern voice came from the hallway. You twisted in your seat and looked up as a man walked in. He looked familiar but you couldn't for the life of you place why.

"More someone actually. Remember me telling you about my best friend growing up? This is her!" Maria smiled warmly as you stood up to greet him, introducing yourself.

"I'm Tommy. It's lovely to finally meet someone Maria has mentioned many times." He chuckled softly as he held out a hand, you shook it as you stared at him. Tommy… it couldn't be…

"It's great to meet you too Tommy." Tommy smiled, kissing Maria's cheek before excusing himself to take a shower. You watched him go before looking at Maria.

"He seems really nice." You smiled, nodding as Maria motioned for you to follow her through to the kitchen. She started making dinner, the two of you talking about things that had happened since outbreak.

"You were in the Boston QZ? Why'd you leave? Other than the obvious FEDRA bullshit." She asked, glancing over at you. "And all alone?" You shrugged a little, chopping some potatoes she'd passed you.

"I was looking for someone. He left on a mission and I haven't heard anything from him so… I tried to find him. Hit constant dead ends and so I figured I'd just keep moving. If I'm meant to find him again then I will eventually." You shrugged again, not wanting to get too upset over it. It seemed ridiculous to even try to find Joel without any information, voicing it out loud made you feel like a stalker or crazy. "It's dumb. I have no way to contact him and no information." You sighed softly. Maria watched you for a moment.

"If he means a lot to you, it makes sense. Is he your boyfriend?" You paused at the question and shrugged. Maria frowned in confusion.

"It's complicated? Or well not really… We just hang out, have sex and seem to always spend our free time together. It's like a relationship but no romance or dates I guess?" Maria laughed as she took the potatoes from you to put them into a pan to cook.

"I swear, you're just as stubborn now as you were back then. You haven't just asked him?" You snorted, leaning against the counter and sipping your tea.

"No. I never thought to." Maria laughed again, making sure everything was cooking before looking over at you.

"Well maybe we can help find him somehow. But you're very welcome to stay here in Jackson if you don't want to go back to Boston." You nodded, chewing the inside of your lower lip as you thought about it.

"I'd like that… I don't have anything to go back to in Boston anymore. Unless he's suddenly shown up there, but I've contacted his radio a few times to no answer." You mumbled, shaking your head to get rid of any negative thoughts before smiling at Maria. "I have you now though! Fifteen years apart and we're back to gossiping and hanging out already." You grinned, Maria nodding.

"There's a little cottage a few doors down that's empty if you want it? It might need a little TLC but it's only been empty for two months." You tilted your head before nodding.

"That sounds amazing. Thank you." Maria looked absolutely elated to have you back in her life, and you felt the same. She told you about her small wedding to Tommy and the plans for the baby. Even showing you the room they'd decorated together when she'd found out she was pregnant. You were happy for her and a little jealous admittedly. You picked up a blanket someone had knitted for the baby, fingers gently playing with it. You noticed a little M in the bottom corner.

"M? Are you going with a M name?" You asked, looking over at Maria who shook her head.

"No we still haven't decided on a name so the woman who made this just put our family initials on it." You glanced back at the blanket again.

"So what is your surname now?"

"Miller."

(Part Three)

[i-luv-carl-grimes]

Hii everyone! Okay so there's this fanfic I've been writing on Wattpad that hasn't been getting any attention and I literally have been working my ass off on it soooo I'm gonna post it here too!! I hope you enjoy!!! ************************

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰

Ep1 s1

(Carl X oc)

Warning: abuse, language and lots of valance as well as gore if you are younger then 14 please don't read

*******************************

Even before this shit went down my life still wasn't something to be proud of

"Rayne, care to explain?" my mom asked holding up a test I got a 83% on. "My math test?" I answered and she laid a strong slap across my cheek. "Don't get smart with me!" she said as I felt stinging in my right cheek.  "Now, try again. Care. To. Explain?" she asked.  "An 83 is still a A" I tried to explain but once again I was met with another strong slap

Don't cry dont cry dont cry

"Your grounded" she said then pointed to the stairs, something warm run down my temple.  Opening the door to the bathroom only to be disappointed as my eyebrow had a cut and was now bleeding. 

"Did you give yourself that cut? Just got some attention" my sister scuffed as I grabbed a wash cloth and held it under warm water.  "Hello?" she said but once again I gave no reply.  "Your pathetic honesty" added then walked to her room.  "I know" I mumbled as I put a bandage on the cut.

I was waking to my room when I heard a door open and close followed by something being set down.  I made my way downstairs to see my dad who had just gotten back from a hunting trip the thing he sat down being his rifle and revolver.  "Can you BELIEVE this, she practically failed!" my mom yelled holding up my 'failed' test.  "Hi Rayne" my father said and got up walking past my mom and over to me.  "What happened to you face?" he said referring to my now bruised cheek and cut eyebrow.  "I fell." I said already knowing better then to tell the truth.  "How bout the test huh? You know I can't let that slide also your mom said you were bad mouthing her and your sister, you know that's not okay" he said and I just nodded knowing nothing he said was true.  "No leaving the house at all and if I even see you look at the tv or play any video games so help me" he said this time more stern. 

I didnt hate my family but sometimes it's hard to keep myself from letting out all the stuff I have been forced to keep in.

"ok" I said.  "What's the use? She's just gonna have her face shoved in a book" my sister said kicking me in the leg I looked up to see if my father had noticed but he was already gone.  "You can't even defend yourself, honestly could you be any more useless" she added but I just once again stayed quiet.

Rule number one: always stay quite

I had 5 rules in place if I broke them, god knows how many marks would be on me if I didn't keep my mouth shut.

No.1: always stay quite (what's the point of talking when no one is listening to you)

No.2: never cry. ("Your so weak all you do is cry")

No.3: A (if I can't get good grades then I'm a disgrace, a failed, a mistake)

No.4: I don't need anyone (relying on other people means your weak)

No.5: take it.  ("You deserve this. You deserve to bleed")

I live with these 5 rules also on my mind if I break one...well...i don't know, I guess I never have, but I know I don't want to know what'll happen if I will. 

"There were a lot of people out this season" my father said.  "Really? I thought that not many people go out over there" my mom asked.  "Yeah I did to, and the weirdest thing about it was that they weren't even wearing hunting gear they were dressed in normal everyday clothes, and get this there werent even any buck" he complained.

People dressed in normal clothes on a hunting trip? Something about that doesn't feel right, as I thought something outside caught my eye.  I walked over to the window to see people, groups of them walking all sluggish almost tripping over there own feet, some of them...were covered with

Blood

Others had very severe injuries, like missing arm you could s-

I felt something rise in my throat looking at one of the people, a little girl with a large intestine spilling out of her I covered my mouth with my hand and ran up stairs getting the attention of my family.

The image crossed my mind once again this time I wasn't able to keep in what I was trying to avoid I ran into the bathroom bumping into the door frame and released my hand from my mouth my stomach unable to take anymore.  "Rayne? Are you alright?" my dad asked rubbing my back.  "She's just doing it for attention, stop being so dramatic" my sister scoffed but the only thing I could focus on was the...i dont even know what it was.  "Rayne what's wrong?" my father asked. 

"Outside...look, outside" I said in between huffs and coughs, my father then got up

It was to long before I heard the front door open, then slame shut.  I stood up and slowly walked down, to see my father's eyes wide his hands gripping onto his hair while my mom began to cry she then grabbed her phone

We all sat there is silence

...

...

...

Click

No one picked up

I ran over the to an old radio I used to listen to when I was younger, thank god I still knew how to use it

Static

"WARNING WE ARE CURRENTLY IN A CRISIS DONT GO NEAR INJURED PEOPLE THEY ARE INFECTED IF YOU GET BIT YOU DIE IF YOU GO NEAR THEM YOU DIE, THE LIVING WALK THE EARTH AND EAT THE LIVING"

"Oh my god" my mom said and fell to her knees.

I ran up stairs and ran into my room to get a book and ran back down stairs almost tripping.

"Look" I said and handed my dad the comic. "Holly shit" he said looking through the book. "We have to go, there has to be somewhere safe" my dad added. "Jade! Get down here!" my dad yelled and my sister walked over tears streaming down her face as she shook in fear, and if I'm being honest as much as I hate to admit it we all were even me...

"Me and you mather are going to gather food and weapons, you two go pack clothes not a lot just enough to travel as well as other things you might need" dad said and I nodded and ran up stairs to my room.

2 outfits should be fine including the one I'm wearing

Fit 1 (currently wearing) : red hoodie with a white t-shirts under and blue jeans (dw the fits get better)

Fit 2. A yellow stripped shit and white t shirt with leggings (most of these are based off of Clementine)

Fit 3. A purple t-shirt with blue jeans

I then went into the bathroom to get basic hygiene products (tooth brush, deodorant, etc) "get boots too!!" my dad said and I went into my room and dug through my closet trying to find the one par of boots I had.

Found them

They were an old pair of docs that used to be my sisters but they dont fit her anymore. I then looked at my desk to see a photo of my best friends and tears streamed down my cheeks,

The one person who actually cared, the one person I trusted please for the love please be okay.

"RAYNE GET DOWN HERE!!!" my dad yelled and I took the photo and put it in my pocket.

When I walked down stairs I seen everyone with bags in there hands my dad set his down and I walked by Jade my father then kneeled down and held up two pocket knives I put my hand out but hesitated while my sister just turned away and shock her head. "Please guys, I need to know that you'll be able to protect yourself if need be" he said and I nodded taking the black and silver knife and flicked it open, nothing to special. "Fine" my sister said then took it. "Alright me and your mama have guns but we won't be able to protect you all the time" he said I agreed but my sister wasn't having it. "No! You have to protect us YOU HAVE TO" she said and my father slapped her and she screamed and cried the....um....things?... Walkers ya

Started walking towards our house probably from hearing Jade cry

Sound attacks them

"Shit Jade stop screaming!" my dad said and covered her mouth only to revile the sound of walkers banging on the door. "Dammit Jade" my dad said. "We have to go through the back" he said and let go of my sister tears still streaming down her face we grabbed all of our stuff and my dad held tightly onto his rifle

Here we go

Name: unknown Nickname: Rayne Walker kills: 0 Living kills: 0 Age: 9

[helluva-dump]

For the HB ship bingo thing, what's your thoughts on M&M (aka Moxxie x Millie)?

Oooof I feel like the fandom will burn me at stake for this 😂😂😂

Okay let me explain myself, this isn’t a ship i neither love or hate. It’s rather I have mixed feelings about this ship….

I loved it at first when I watched season 1 since they badly remind me of me and my bf and they still do in a way… But tbh… season 2 kind of shoves these two in my face a lot where it starts to become less cute and more obnoxious.

I think my main issue with this ship is how much character Millie lacks. She barely has any character and all of that is always given to Moxxie 😒😒😒 even the latest episode was still a Moxxie episode at the end of the day, they just tried to give Millie more to do.

(And Viv had to make a whole ass thread to explain Millie as a character to fans than show it to us, which is a sign of bad writing. You shouldn’t have to explain things to fans if they point out these writing flaws)

Also my issue is just they really don’t know that much about each other’s personal backgrounds… like Millie knows nothing about Moxxie’s past at all like he always keeps stuff from her. (I would find that a massive red flag with my partner ) I mean hell, my bf and Moxxie are so similar ina way with not having that much of a good family tree and have a shitty dad, but he was still in front with me about his family at the end of the day.

And I kind of expected them to have a conflict where Millie is wondering why he kept so many secrets from her and such. Which is my other issue with this ship, they are waaaaay too mushy and barely even show arguments.

Like guys, arguing doesn’t mean abuse, it’s healthy for couples to argue. It be a lot more unhealthy if they never argued at all. I mean at least we see Speckle and Bertie from Tuca and Bertie have their arguments and conflicts with each other and they’re one of the ultimate couple goals in fiction.

The only good thing about the last episode is we finally see them argue for once! However, I just don’t like how they executed it, I feel like they had that change in the Ex’s and Oh’s episode.

That being said, they’re still couple goals at the end of the day. I just wish we saw them argue more so I can find them more relatable in that regard. I do think they have a lot more potential, but I think the ship would be more interesting if we saw how Millie is as an individual character without Moxxie all the time. Or at least see how they met in the past since I’m curious how they got together.

Also the fandom with this ship is a whole new story….. like oooof the fact they justify Millie lacking character and try to defend how she’s better as a background character… it just feels super sexist… like that should not only be her one character trait. She deserves to be more than Moxxie’s wife. Doesn’t help the writers just refuse to admit they’re not that good at writing female characters.😅

So yeah the ship isn’t bad, but it could be better if we saw Millie more as an individual.

If I can say a positive about them, it’s nice to see a married couple in an adult csrtoon that isn’t ugly man/hot wife or they constantly bicker and that… because that gets old quick.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Through the Seasons

Read it here on ao3!

Spring | Summer | Autumn

2 - SUMMER

Reki takes a deep breath as he stares at himself in the mirror. It’s today. Today is the day he’s dreamed of his entire life, as cheesy as that sounds. It’s cheesy, but, despite denying it for so, so long, it’s nothing but the truth. Today really is the day he’s been waiting for since he was a little kid. Today is the day; his moment is only minutes away. New adventures are merely minutes away, long minutes that pass in a flash. A new chapter of his life begins as soon as he steps through the door.

“You’re gonna be late if you keep staring at yourself in the mirror like that.”

Reki whips around to face his little sister and her never-changing annoyed look. Her eyes narrow onto him as she crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow. And he knows he looks like a deer in headlights, but he can’t help the distressed look. He can’t help the pounding of his heart or the buzzing in his ears. He can’t help the stress that’s weighing down in the pit of his stomach. No matter how hard he tries, Reki is incapable of wiping away the visible panic on his face.

“I have to look perfect!”

Koyomi sighs as she pushes herself off the wall and makes her way to her brother. A smile creeps itself onto the corners of her mouth as she reaches out for him, fingers surprisingly gentle against his neck as she fixes his red bowtie.

“Breathe, Reki.” Reki takes a deep breath which has Koyomi smiling even more. “You know, you could walk down the aisle in your underwear and Langa would still think you’re the most perfect, most good-looking bastard in the world.”

Reki lightly shoves his sister, who lets out a snort as she stumbles back. Still, her smile eases Reki’s nerves a little, leaving him with a matching expression. She’s right, of course she is, and Reki knows it, but still, he can’t help but be in shambles over this. This is his wedding with Langa. Dreamy Langa. Perfect Langa. His best friend first. The love of his life, for crying out loud! Reki’s actually marrying the guy! Reki is marrying Langa, and everything starts in only a few minutes! Reki has minutes before everything turns on its head and changes. Everything is changing!

“Reki!” Koyomi gives a tug on his bowtie, the shock of the jolt just enough to pull him from his spiraling thoughts. “I said: breathe. You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack at this rate, and it is not the time for that.”

“I’m fine!”

Amber eyes narrow onto Reki, and he feels himself shrink under the intensity of the gaze. While she may be smaller than him, he knows she can very well take him in a fight, and she is not above hitting him on his wedding day. Call it sibling love, if you will. But Koyomi is the definition of compact strength, and Reki doesn’t want today to be the day he learns what she’s capable of while in a dress and heels. If there’s one thing he’s learned growing up, it’s that for some weird twisted reason, the more impractical the outfit, the more Koyomi is capable of kicking ass.

“What have we been telling you for basically the entirety of your existence? About the whole ‘I’m fine’ thing?”

“That whenever I say that I’m fine, I’m actually not fine?”

“Exactly. So just—” Koyomi takes a step back, assessing her work— “take a deep breath and remind yourself that soon enough, you’ll get to see Langa. You’ll get to be all stupidly smiley and all your worries – useless worries at that! – will simply vanish. And just so you know, he’s also nervous as hell.”

“You saw him?”

Reki feels his head spin once more. This is getting more and more real as the minutes go by. What had once been nothing but a fantasy, something his 17-year-old self used to think about in bed instead of sleeping, is now his reality. To think that this had once been but a silly fantasy, a dumb princess story that was totally impossible. But as always, the universe has a way of turning the impossible into a reality, and here stands Reki, Reki who is so terribly excited and nervous at the idea of finally getting to tie the knot with his forever. He’s marrying Langa. He’s marrying his best friend. He’s finally going to be able to vow infinity to Langa, for real this time. And of course, the stress he’s been trying so hard to brush away these past few months crashes against his fickle brain, reminding him of all the ways a perfect fantasy can be burned to the ground. But also, for some strange reason, the idea of Langa also being stressed, it calms him ever so slightly.

“You should’ve seen his mom; the poor woman was trying to calm him as he kept digging through his stuff. I didn’t catch everything she was saying to him since they were doing that thing where they flip between English and Japanese, but I can assure you that he wants this to be as perfect as you do. He wants it to be perfect for you, Reki.” Koyomi’s hands are warm against Reki’s cheeks. And it’s calming, the way she holds him. It’s the same calming touch their mother has. “Your husband-to-be is also going crazy, terrified that he’s somehow not perfect enough for you.” And her smile, it has to be one of the brightest ones Reki’s ever seen. “You two dimwits are literally soulmates! You’re both idiots that need to be reminded that you’re already perfect for each other. You’re so perfect for each other that I might actually vomit from how cute you are. You’ve been perfect since the very beginning, and a wedding isn’t going to change that. So just… It’s just gonna be perfect!” Koyomi’s amber eyes shine as she squishes her brother’s cheeks, pulling a squeak out of him. “Reki! Reki, you’re getting married! You’re getting married to Langa, and he’s gonna be your husband for real! You’re actually getting married and you’re gonna have a husband!”

Reki takes a shaky breath that turns to a giggle as Koyomi practically chants the word husband over and over again. It’s like they’re little kids again, playing make-believe in the yard together. It’s like they’re children all over again, but they aren’t. They’re both fully grown adults, both with lives that are finally taking off. They’re both set for life, Koyomi graduating from university real soon and starting a job she’s been dreaming of for years, and Reki with his ever-growing brand name and a husband only minutes away. They feel like little kids as they jump and dance around the room, but they’re so much more now that they’re grown. This is so much more exciting because they’re grown.

It’s nice having Koyomi in his arms. When was the last time they had hugged? Forever ago, probably. It’s been so long since they’ve been this close; life got in the way and they forgot what it feels like to be in the same room, spending time with one another. It’s been forever since the last time it was just the two of them, even longer since the last time they didn’t bicker. Today, right now, it’s a nice reminder of how things can be. It’s nice knowing that deep down, under that annoyed exterior, Koyomi really is just Reki’s caring little sister that gets just as excited as him with things like this. She’s still his Komi, his little sister that will dance around the room. She’s still his Komi, his favorite hypewoman.

“And then there’s gonna be music and everyone is gonna enjoy themselves and mom is—”

“Where’s mom?” Reki feels himself suddenly tense, all the worst-case scenarios flooding in. “She’s not bailing on me, is she? She promised she’d walk with me, and I don’t think I can do it without her.”

Koyomi scoffs as she gives Reki one last squeeze before wiggling out of his embrace. “As if she would miss the first wedding of the family.” Warmth and serenity fills Reki at the sight of the sunshine shimmering in his sister’s amber eyes. “Mom would literally fight a zombie apocalypse to be here if she had to.”

“You…” Reki sighs, light laughter on his lips, as he pokes the girl’s cheek. “You’re probably right. But really? A zombie apocalypse?”

“What?”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Miya.”

A smile eases its way onto Reki’s lips as Koyomi scoffs again, arms crossed over her chest. He isn’t sure if that’s a blush that’s starting to blossom under her skin or if it’s the makeup that’s now really popping under the burning summer sun, but regardless, she doesn’t seem too interested in addressing his accusation. She seems far keener on getting his last-minute touches down, one last straightening of his bowtie, a tug on his vest, and a quick and futile attempt at taming his tangles.

“There. If Langa wasn’t already so disgustingly madly in love with you – which he is, don’t try to convince me otherwise – he would fall head-over-heels in love with you right here and now.” Her eyes lock with his, a sudden look of seriousness overshadowing the glee that shimmered just moments ago. “You look good, Reki. Amazing even.” A grin illuminates the girl’s face. “My brother is the hottest groom, and Langa is one lucky man to spend forever with you.”

“Your boyfriend dared you to say that, didn’t he?”

“Oh my god, Miya’s not my boyfriend!”

“Who said anything about Miya?”

Koyomi inhales sharply before shoving Reki aside. Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she fetches the purse she had tossed onto the bed a little earlier. This time, there’s no mistaking the blush that takes over her face, embarrassment now impossible to conceal as Reki laughs. She doesn’t look very happy, but also, he knows he’s safe for the day. She wouldn’t hurt him on his wedding day, right? No, she’s not that mean. Hopefully.

“Mom’s gonna be here in like two minutes, so have fun being alone during those two long, insufferable minutes.” She grumbles something under her breath, something that weirdly sounds like needing a drink, which pulls yet another string of giggles from Reki. “I come here in peace, trying to calm you and help you get ready, and you have the audacity to blatantly attack me. The absolute disrespect!”

“I love you, Komi.”

Seeing her turn around, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, Reki can’t help the tears that start to well up at the corner of his eyes. Sure, it’s probably just because he’s an emotional mess right now, but it’s nice seeing Koyomi smile so unguardedly. It’s nice seeing her without some façade. It’s nice just seeing her, his little sister, the girl he grew up with. And when she says it back, returning to his arms and hugging him like when they were kids and needed a safe space, he melts. Reki melts, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he hugs his little sister back.

“I love you too, Reki. And today’s gonna be perfect, just how you dreamed it would be. And,” Koyomi tightens her embrace, “I mean it when I say Langa’s super lucky to be getting married to you. No one’s better than my big brother.”

“My babies are actually getting along!”

Masae’s face glows with pride as Reki and Koyomi slowly step away from each other. Her hands are clasped over her heart, and Reki swears he sees tears forming at the corner of his mother’s eyes. He knows she’s proud of him, of Koyomi, of all her children, but seeing her like this, seeing that fond expression decorate her face, Reki can’t help but rush to his mother’s arms, melting into her. And as she wraps her arms around him, everything is right. There’s nothing quite like a mother’s embrace. There’s nothing like a mother’s love to make everything better, better than they already are.

Her hands are warm against Reki’s cheeks as she lifts his head from her shoulder. Her smile, it means everything to Reki. His mother means everything to him, and he hopes she never forgets it, not that he’ll ever let her.

“Are you ready, honey?”

Reki gives her a curt nod as he links his arms with hers. It’s now or never. It’s now and he knows it. It’s now as he turns to Koyomi, extending his hand to her as he grins from ear to ear.

“Let’s get this wedding started!”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

HI STEPH! How has your December been?

Hey Lovely *HUGS*

LOL do you want the "Tumblr happy place" version or the "might be a bit depressing" version??

Tumblr-mask version: It's been alright. We've got some snow now, and it feels a bit more Christmassy. Glad I'm on holidays and just enjoying the time off :)

Real life version: We've got some snow now, and I hate snow. And life's been a bit of a gong show for the past month or so. (cw below cut, medical, retail frustration, and depression mentions)

TL;DR: It's December. Hopefully the new year looks a bit more promising <3

As you all know, this kind of all started back when my job was very uncertain. I had a bit of a brief break when I got my raise and talked with the chief of staff. Few weeks, maybe, then just the desire to have a holiday started to kick in because I realized how EXHAUSTED I was.

I recently went though a pain in the ass experience with my car's manufacturer regarding a small repair on my car that was only supposed to be a one day thing and turned into nearly 3 weeks of me not having a car and them refusing to give me a rental because I don't have an "extended warranty" even though I'm still covered under a warranty. Because of the kind of person I am, this spiralled me into a nightmare scenario of me stressing about not having a car three weeks before Christmas, fighting with the dealership to give me SOME sort of compensation (and failing) and them not being able to tell me when I get my car back – I wanted it back before my Christmas break this week because I prefer to go out during the work week when it's less busy. Anyway, coincidence or not, the missing part MYSTERIOUSLY arrived two days after I escalated my situation with the head office telling them their customer service was shit (in a nicer way, of course, LOL), so I at least have it back now. But not an experience I would wish on my worst enemy, it was THAT stressful.

Leading up to Christmas, work was insane. We're short-staffed and just... no one was "feeling it" this year. We're all tired and we all just want holidays. I took off three extra days since I still had time to book off, so my holidays started sooner than everyone else, and I am so glad I did it. I'm not looking at anything work-related for the next two weeks, thanks.

I don't like winter at all where I live (it's always gloomy and wet; rarely any sun at all), and it feels like my brain is rotting from all the Christmas shit being shoved down my throat. There, I said it. I don't like Christmas, haven't since my dad passed away 2 weeks after Christmas over a dozen years ago. I like the aesthetics of it – the lights, the decorations, the hot cocoa and fancy drinks – but it's TOO MUCH for TOO LONG, and by the time Christmas is here I am DONE. I'm TIRED of people being SHOCKED that I don't like Christmas... ugh. PLUS my seasonal depression spikes badly at Christmas because all people seem to do is like to remind me how alone I am. Like thanks, appreciate it. UGH. The only thing I like about Christmas is that my work gives us 2 weeks every year between Christmas and New Year, and I spend most of that alone watching movies, drinking cocoa or playing video games. It's wonderful. I hear about everyone in my extended family having to visit all these people on Christmas day and I'm like LOL I'm in my jammies watching the Avengers, thanks, you keep that stress.

Christmas is EXTRA kinda poopy this year because one of my closest extended family members found out they have throat cancer at the beginning of November. They're in chemo right now and in good spirits, so I'm trying to stay positive about it, but it's hard to not think about, you know?

Discovering a lot about myself in therapy, and it's mentally draining. That's all I'm comfortable sharing right now.

I'm just all around TIRED and LONELY and feel like no one cares about me, y'know? I feel like I'm never going to be anyone who accomplished something worthwhile (and before y'all say it, my BRAIN LOGICALLY KNOWS THIS IS ALL FALSE, but my wires get crossed and the depression sinks in instead with the intrusive thoughts – My therapist finds it fascinating that I have this kind of awareness and she's trying to find a way to work around it). Some days are worse than others, especially in the winter in this city going on month 2 of no sunshine, UGGGHHH. Having moods that change with the weather REALLY fucking sucks.

AND I've been looking again at getting a cat, but I think I might have to once again put it on the back-burner, because my phone is finally crapping out (it's an iPhone 6S Plus, so it's OOOOOOOLLDD by today's standards) with the camera jittering and the battery barely lasting 4 hours in standby mode, so I might have to get a new one sooner than later. AND I also want to re-look at getting a mortgage again so I'm ready when the housing market inevitably crashes and I can get a condo cheaper than 500K :/ My rent is still cheaper right now because I'm so grandfathered in that I'm paying under 1000$ right now for rent, so staying where I am is the SMART thing, but I'm miserable because the space is too small now. ANYWAY, money. Can't get a cat right now AGAIN because of money. Ugh. I'm not broke by any means, I just.......... am so annoyed my single-person groceries have gone from 50$ a week to 150$ a week, and I HATE HATE HATE it. It's ridiculous. Finally get a raise but I can never catch a break, it seems :/ It's not Avacado Toast, Karen, it's the whole damned economy.

So yeah, that's basically it. I don't talk about myself that much here because I am a fairly private person. I don't like bothering people with my problems because I always feel like a burden. Sometimes, though, I just wish I had a human person I could visit regularly to chat with (that I don't have to pay for, LOL), is all. AND my blog is my happy place, so I try to keep it positive where I can.

Hope you're having a good month, and I hope the holidays treat you well <3

[rinrinx2]

"Bunny gets stuffed in her ass and pussy"

Chifuyu x reader fem x Kazutora

Summary: Your loving husband's help your create only fans content.

Warnings: Mature themes, Adult themes, Innapropriate language, Threesome, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Orgasm, Smut, Cam girl/ onlyfans

This was requested by @lovelygeniegirl1012

Hope you like it 💕

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“Hey guys it me (Y/N) and stay tuned tonight as hubby 1 unloads inside my fertile  pussy while hubby 2 destroys my ass” you said to the camera, sitting in nothing but a pair of light pink sheer panties as your breasts were exposed causing your nipples to slightly pebble.

You moved forward turning the camera off, when you heard a noise coming from the kitchen getting louder as the person creating the sound moved closer.

“Hey angel, you done filming?” you husband Chifuyu Matsuno asked, as he entered your shared bedroom.

“Well not really” you replied as you reached for your discarded rob on the bedroom floor.

“But how was work. Did that cute doggie finally get a home?” you asked as you sat on the bed, watching as Chifuyu joined you.

“Well not yet but the shop has been busy. Its bunny season so everyone wants one. Kazu is still helping a bunny give birth as we speak”

“Really?” you asked in amazement.

“Yes, my horny bunny” Chifuyu said as he leaned over placing soft kisses along your neck, causing you to giggle.

“Come on humpy the hare let me get dinner ready before Kazu gets home” Chifuyu said stopping his ticklish kisses as he moved up from his spot with you on the bed, with you following behind.

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

Chifuyu Matsuno was your husband for nearly 2 years. Chifuyu had subscribed to your onlyfans and your relationship began as any other of your subscribers, him paying you for whatever content he desired but what differentiated him from every other subscriber way he never commented on your body but rather on how cute you looked in every video. His sweet compliments had gripped your heart and you decided that the two of you should meet, and after 5 dates Chifuyu got on one knee and asked that special question to which you agreed, and then 2 months later you became Matsuno (Y/N).

And what made you love Chifuyu more was that he never tried to stop your career when the two of you got married. He wasn’t the selfish man that tried to hide you from the world, in fact the was the exact opposite, flaunting pictures of you whenever he could to someone; even during his breaks during work he would watch his favourite twitter videos of yours, which of course would not go unnoticed by his fellow co-worker, Hanemiya Kazutora.

“What are you watching there?” Kazutora asked on random day.

“My wife” Chifuyu asked with a love-stricken gaze.

Kazutora peered over Chifuyu’s watching you splayed yourself on the bed moaning out in need as you continuously shoved the biggest dildo Kazutora had ever seen, in and out of your dripping cunt that left a massive wet spot on the bed.

“Holy shit! That’s your wife Chifuyu?”

“Yeah, isn’t she amazing” Chifuyu asked like a schoolboy talking about his crush.

“She sure is. Fuck shes so beautiful” Kazutora said as he continued watching the video play on Chifuyu’s phone.

“You wanna meet her?” Chifuyu asked with stars in his eyes.

When Chifuyu came home that night with Kazutora you knew he was special, the bond the two of you had was unmatched. He understood you, like he was the missing part of your soul. And just as you and Chifuyu had married soon after you’re meeting the same was done with you and Kazutora, but in a spiritual ceremony under the stars with only the moon being a witness to your love.

Chifuyu was never jealous of what was happening between you and Kazutora, as he knew you loved him and he loved you, he loved you enough to find happiness with others, even if it was his co-worker and close friend Hanemiya Kazutora, and besides now he had someone he could talk with about you for hours.

Your life quickly changed having both your legal and spiritual husband by you side, the three of you did nearly everything together, from sleeping, eating, showering as well as creating content with them. And that was your lifestyle now just the three of you.

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

“Sorry I’m late for dinner” Kazutora said as he entered the apartment, while you and Chifuyu sat at the dinner table eating soba.

“It’s okay Chifu told me you were helping with the bunnies” you said with your cheeks filled with soba.

“Oh, did he now” Kazutora said as he took his seat at the table.

“Yeah, I did. How many did our cute lil fluff ball give birth to?” Chifuyu asked as Kazutora.

“Well 12, but I’m sure lil fluff ball will get be with more bunnies soon. You know how bunnies are” Kazutora replied as he ate at his soba.

“Hey!” you screamed out getting the attention of both Kazutora and Chifuyu.

“Don’t forget you gotta help me tonight” you said with a cute pout.

“How could we forget angel” Kazutora replied while Chifuyu nodded in agreement. They would never forget to help you create content, with such a cute face and such a tight pussy it was a no brainer that they’d always be willing to help.

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

“I’m ready” you yelled from the room.

“We’ll be there now” Chifuyu replied, as he and Kazutora now stood infront of the mirror stretching their limbs as you usually out them in some intertesing positions that required flexibility.

“I wonder what she has in store for us tonight?” Kazutora asked as he shifted his hard cock in his boxers.

“Whatever she has waiting for us, she probably looks so sexy” Chifuyu said as he felt his cock already leaking with pre-cum at the thought of you.

When Chifuyu and Kazutora left the bathroom, they were surprised when they found you sitting on the bed, camera ready, while you wore a white sheer lingerie set with a pair of fluffy bunny ears and a matching fluffy white butt plug.

They both starred at amazement at the sight before them.

“Use said its bunny season” you said with a giggle as you turned around to show them your cute butt plug giving your ass a little wiggle.

Both men still starred with mouths agape, cocks hardening even more than they already were at the sight of you.

“Come on before I wet my panties more” you complained out finally snapping them out of their trance.

Kazutora walked over to the camera, about to set the recording to live so that your viewers could enjoy the show. Kazutora set a timer on the camera so that he could get in position before the three of you went live.

“So, whose doing what?” Kazutora asked as he reached the bed sitting along side your right as Chifuy sat on your left.

“Chifu you fuck my pussy and Kazu you can fuck my ass. Okay!” you said with a cheerful smile, like you weren’t about to commit the lewdest act known to man.

The camera began its countdown. You now stood on your knees on the bed with Kazutora on his knees behind you and Chifuyu in front of you in the same position. You began kissing Chifuyu. Your soft lips moulding against his, opening your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, your mouth was watering as Chifuyu sucked on your tongue. Kazutora massaged your ass while you and Chifuyu seductively kissed, Kazutora was pulling at your cute bunny butt plug as moans slipped out due to his actions.

HandyHanma: Fuck that looks so hot,

DaddyRan: Look how wet she is, and they barely did anything.

DrakentheDom: Such as simple slut bunny.

Chifuyu began playing with your tits as he continued kissing you, while Kazutora still pulled your butt plug halfway out just to shove it back in, causing your back to arch on pleasure.

“You want us to fuck you bunny?” Kazutora whispered from behind.

“Yes please, please” you begged out.

Chifuyu stopped kissing you as he took your bra off sucking at your nipples, while Kazutora removed your pantie, while still teasing you with your butt plug.

“Please bunny wants cock” you moaned out.

“What you think should we give bunny cock?” Kazutora asked Chifuyu.

“It is bunny season” Chifuyu replied as he began to pull his leaking cock out of his boxers, Kazutora doing the same with beads of pre-cum formed on his red bulbous cock tip.

HakkailLoves$luts: Fuck her she’s begging for it.

MagicMikey: Shes dripping all down her thighs.

Chifuyu now lined his leaking cock with your bare pussy that gushed out at the exposed air, while Kazutora lined himself up with your ass.

“They want us to fuck you bunny, should we?” Chifuyu asked while he turned to the camera, while Kazutora began to use your slick to lube up your ass.

HandyHanma: Breed that tight fucking pussy

MagicMikey: Yes, fuck her so good that she’s filled with baby bunnies

“Time to breed you bunny” Chifuyu said as he began to push his thick fat cock into your dripping cunt, Chifuyu stayed buried inside you not moving yet as Kazutora shoved his cock straight into your tight ass.

“Shit bunny you’re gonna make me cum already” Kazutora moaned out.

Chifuyu began slowly thrusting inside you, the tight wet walls of your cunt devouring him making it hard for him to not cum on the spot. Kazutora fucked your ass merciless not giving you a moment, as he wanted to feel more of the tight ass swallow his cock as his balls smacked against your ass.

Chifuyu began picking up his pace, now fucking you just as brutally as Kazutora. Your pussy felt so full of cock, enjoying the sensation of Chifuyu’s leaking cock inside of you as he pressed against that delicious spot inside of you while Kazutora fucked your ass making your pussy feel more sensitive with pleasure.

“Yeah, keep fucking me, bunny wants cock so badly” you moaned out as you drooled with pleasure of having to cocks stuffing you full.

DrakentheDom: shit her pussy is foaming already

TaijuTallDick: God, she wants to be inseminated so badly.

“I’m gonna- I’m gon-na cum” you moaned out as the sensation of having both your ass and pussy being fucked was getting to much. Your pussy was being stimulated with each thrust and your ass was tightening so hard around Kazutor’s cock.

“Cum bunny!” Kazutora yelled, as his balls were filled with cum readying to unload it into your ass.

“Yeah, I can feel it bunny, just cum on my cock” Chifuyu said as his cock already had a ring of white at the base, his shaft so full of semen readying to shoot into your fertile pussy.

DaddyRan: Bunny’s in heat.

SanzulovesSub: Fucking cum bunny.

The coil in your tummy finally snapped as Chifuyu hilted his cock deep inside you, your pussy pushing out against his cock as you came hard around his cock causing Chifuyu to cum at the tightening of your pussy walls as you milked him. Chifuyu let out streams of cum into your pussy, Kazutora still fucked you ass mercilessly until his balls ached and he came hard, shoving his cock as deep as he could inside you letting his cum fill your ass.

Chifuyu and Kazutora removed their cocks from you, while you now liad on the bed with your legs spread showing the camera as cum dripped out both your ass and pussy mixing together on the sheets.

“Don’t you just wish you were fucking bunny’s pussy” Kazutora said, while Chifuyu now leaned infront of your splayed legs pushing the mixture of his and Kazutora’s cum into your pussy.

“We love you bunny” Kazutora and Chifuyu said in unison.

.

.

.

All rights reserved to @rinrinx2

[buckyodinson]

A Bard’s Wife

Jaskier x f!Reader

Request: something very flirty with season 2 era jaskier, where the reader has been helping him escort elves to cintra and there’s lots of tension and they finally kiss :)

Word count: 1.3k~

Warnings: none, really? very mild season 2 spoilers?

A/N: sorry this took so long!! work has kicked my ass, I’ve been bringing home books to mark almost everyday (as I write this, I’m currently staring at a pile on unmarked books too lmao) 

You watch from across the tavern as Jaskier charms the customers for yet another night. You’re sat with a drunk man at the bar who just won’t take the hint that you’re not interested. You humoured him at first, laughing at his terrible jokes, but then you’ve been trying to get rid of him since. You don’t realise the jealousy on Jaskier’s face as he watches you laugh at the man. There’s a polite smile on your face but on the inside you’re about five minutes away from kicking him where it hurts most.

Jaskier plays some fan-favourites, and as always, he finishes off with Burn Butcher Burn. He seems off today as he sings his final song, and you make a mental note to ask him about it at the end of the night. He received thunderous applause as the song comes to an end, though there is some grumbles as the patrons realise it means the tavern is closing.

Once the tavern is cleared out, you both collect your things and sneak down to gather tonight’s group of elves to take the boat to Cintra.

It’s all going well until Jaskier is asked for his papers. He doesn’t flounder though, using his usual witty charm to get himself out of trouble. But as usual, Jaskier can’t wind his neck in when it’s good for him, and he starts to run his mouth. As more men are called along, you realise that Jaskier is going to get caught out tonight if you don’t act quickly.

You mutter to the elves to move on your signal, before hitching up your skirt and moving quietly along the path until you’re stumbling out into the clearing, making enough of a noise to make Jaskier and the men surrounding him turn to face you.

You pout as you stagger over to Jaskier, careful not to laugh at his confused expression.

“You lousy bastard, Julian. Finishing and leaving me in bed like a common whore.” You lightly shove him when you reach him.

“Who’s this pretty little thing?” One of the men remarks.

“She’s-she’s my wife!” Jaskier gets the hint and stutters out.

“The bard’s got a wife! Never would’ve guessed it.” The men chuckle.

“Well, I don’t know how much longer I can put up with him. He may give a triumphant performance on stage, but elsewhere…” you just sigh and Jaskier’s cheeks burn, visible even in the low light of the evening.

“I’m sure we could show you a good time.” One of the men sneered and you tried to hide your disgust.

You stray from Jaskier and move around the men, turning their attention towards you and away from the path to the boat, leaving the coast clear for the elves.

“Oh I’m sure you could.” You remove the pin keeping your hair back from your face, and brush your fingers through it softly, watching the elves move in your peripheral vision. Jaskier notices too and moves towards you, to keep the men’s attention away from the boat.

One of the men skulks closer to you but before he can touch you, Jaskier steps in front of you with a scowl on his face.

“Don’t touch her.” He speaks firmly, and you’re stunned by his boldness, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his tone.

“You heard the lady. You’re not satisfying her, bard. Let a real man show you how to really please a lady.” There’s a teasing lilt to the man’s voice as he smirks.

Jaskier doesn’t stand down or move away except turning towards you, “Please, my love. Let’s go home. Let me make it up to you.”

You know he’s only playing up to the part to let the last of the elves get onto the boat unnoticed, but the way he looks deep into your eyes, you swear you could feel it in the depths of your soul. He holds a hand out to you and you smile as you take it softly.

“Alright then, love. Sorry boys, maybe another time.” You throw a playful wink their way as you grip Jaskier’s hand tighter and start to walk back to the tavern.

There are shouts and grumbles from the men as you walk away. You’re out of sight from the men fairly quickly but your hands are still entwined until you reach the tavern again, climbing the stairs to the room you’ve rented above it.

“Oh- uhh sorry.” He stammers out and drops your hand as he reaches for the key to your door.

“It’s okay.” You reply meekly as you both step in and close the door behind you.

You’re lighting the fireplace when Jaskier calls your name softly. You turn and look at him, met with the sight of him with his jacket abandoned and shirt halfway undone.

“Thank you.” He says earnestly with a smile.

“For what?” You chuckle, turning back to the fire and placing a pot of water above it.

“For saving my skin back there. Those guys would have ripped me apart if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We needed to get the elves safely on that ship, I did what needed to be done in the moment.” You shrugged as you sat in the chair by the fire, letting the warmth seep into your skin.

Pretending to be Jaskier’s wife was an added bonus, sure. And hearing him call you ‘love’ definitely made you feel some type of way. But it was only an act. At least you were telling yourself that, anyway. You’ve always been a flirty pair, but Jaskier could never love you the same way you loved him.

He pours himself a drink and says something under his breath that you don’t quite catch and you’re about to press him when he speaks louder.

“Is it really that awful of a thought, being my wife?” He attempts a jovial tone, but there’s something sad underneath that reminds you of the way he sang earlier. He downs his drink and fidgets with the cup in his hands.

“Of course not, Jaskier. Any woman would be lucky to be your wife.” You smile softly.

“I don’t want just any woman though.” He muses, sparing a quick glance at you before looking away again.

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You feel like the air is ripped from your lungs from that one word.

“M-me?”

“Yes, dove. It’s always been you.” He puts the cup down and walks tentatively over to you, kneeling down in front of you.

“Jaskier, I- I don’t know what to say…” you brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek.

“Then don’t say anything.” He smiles and leans into your touch.

You reach your other hand to cup his face, and before you know it you’re pulling his face towards your own and kissing him with all your strength.

He takes a second to realise what’s happening but when he does, he’s snaking his hands around your waist and kissing you back with equal fervour, pulling you to the ground to sit in his lap.

You pull away breathless and look into those blue eyes you’ve grown to love over the years, “I love you, Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

He smirks and blushes at his full name, loving the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. “I love you too. More than the bee loves the flower, and more than the flower loves the sun. More than anything.”

It’s your turn to blush now, and he cups your face, loving the feel of the heat rushing to your cheeks. He presses his forehead against yours and you sit there peacefully for a few minutes before he breaks the silence.

“You’re going to pay for that comment about my not-so triumphant performance, though.” He raises an eyebrow.

You smirk, “Is that so?”

It’s fair to say Jaskier gave a very glorious performance that night, proving you incredibly wrong.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

[forever-rogue]

Douse the Lights

A/N: I have no excuse for this, except I love one (1) Din Djarin and he deserves this and so do we. Enjoy! A little Happy New Year gift from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) - oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV, choking, degradation, creampie...filth. This is just filth. 

STUTTER SOMETHING PROFOUND (PART 2)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop kriffing staring at me.”

“I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

“You,” with a sharp turn of your head you saw that he wasn’t even near you. Nope. Not at all. 

Kriff. Awkward.

“Lothcat got your tongue, Princess?” you’d never seen his face, but Maker, you just knew there was a wicked smirk on it.

“Just mind your own business,” stowing away your clean blasters with a huff, you prayed with all your might that he couldn’t see the flush of warmth on your face or hear the crack in your voice. You hated him. Everything about him.

At least you wanted to; you would have given anything in the galaxy to. It would make constantly being around the Mandalorian that you called your employer a lot easier. 

Maybe if you kept repeating it yourself, you would manifest it to become true. That you could hate that annoying, half-witted, tin can. 

“Thought that’s what I was doing,” there was the most minute inkling of amusement in his voice as he came over, lithe and silent - ever the hunter. He was at your side in an instant, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the cool metal of the beskar as he sent shivers up and down your spine. Along with the low pooling of heat and desire settling in your belly, but you were going to ignore that for now.

Almost as if he knew the effect he had on you, he made it a point to brush a gloved hand over yours as he nudged you to the side to inspect some of the weapons he’d tasked you with cleaning. You had to be quick in order to shut your mouth and keep a small whimper from escaping your lips. 

How long had it been since someone last touched you? Maker, it had been….dank farrik. It had been way too long. A simple hand brush - there wasn’t even skin to skin contact - and you felt like a lothcat in heat. You really needed to get...some company and have your frustrations taken out or surely you would explode. There was no way you were to give Mando the satisfaction of knowing the type of hold he seemed to possess over you. 

Perhaps once you were out of this more than awkward conversation you could slip out for a few hours and seek some pleasure. The little one had just gone down for a nap a short bit ago, and he was likely to be out for some time. Surely he wouldn’t have a problem for a few hours. Then you could -

“These are still dirty,” was his voice always that rough and low? He had to be doing it on purpose, surely. Before you could contemplate it too much, he took one of the blasters and shoved it back into your hands. Not rough or gentle, but with enough firmness to remind that he was in charge. You looked it over and raised your eyebrows as you inspected it yourself - it was polished to an almost pristine shine, “clean them again. All of them.”

“What the fuck, Mando,” you scoffed with indignation as you rolled your eyes at him, shoving the blaster right into of the black T of his visor. You waved it almost as if to prove your point, “this is clean. I dare you to find a cleaner blaster in this Maker forsaken galaxy.”

He was quick to your grab your wrist, his grip was firm as he kept your hand from moving. You didn’t normally argue with your stoic and mysterious employer, but this was apparently new and uncharted territory. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a shift between the two of you, something had changed. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the dullest of knives as you stared back at him. 

“Clean it again,” it was a growl that went straight to your cunt as you subconsciously clenched your thighs at the sound. Either this was a one time deal that you would commit to memory or you were going to make it a point to annoy him more often. As he stared you down, he slowly let go of your wrist and pointed at the discarded cleaning rag, “and make sure its actually clean this time.”

“You are the worst,” you tried to retain the little bit of composure that you had remaining as you swiped the blaster back.

“And you are a brat,” brat. Brat. Brat. Brat. Of all the words available in all of the galaxy, he had to choose that one. This was absolutely on purpose. The Mandalorian never did anything without careful planning and calculating the risks. The same could be said with his words; this was all carefully and deliberately chosen. He cocked his head to the side, almost as if trying to gauge your reaction, “but here we are. Get them clean.”

“Or what?” it was a mere pathetic squeak as found yourself almost unable to meet his face.

“Just get it done.”

Without another word he strode away, as silent and dangerous as he was when he first came in. If you were stronger, if you weren’t a weak little fool, you would have looked away and focused on your work. 

But no. Not today.

Instead you watched him go, staring shamelessly at his imposing figure as he moved to disappear back into the cockpit to do whatever it was that he did. 

Was his ass always that nice? Were those thighs always so strong and sturdy? Was he always so damn broad and wide? 

Shit. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you hissed at yourself as you picked the rag back up and slammed yourself back down on the bench in order to re-clean all the weapons that you had just done. He wanted clean weapons? You’d give him the cleanest blasters he’d ever seen. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost an hour had crept by when you’d finished your second round of cleaning. At this point you honestly didn’t care if the Mandalorian deemed the job satisfactory or not. The longer you had ruminated on his words, the more frustrated you became. 

Each word, each touch seemed burned into your mind as you let your imagination take over. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him before. There had been a number of sleepless nights when you imagined it had been his hand between your thighs, his fingers running through your slick folds before they slipped inside of you. On nights when you really couldn't help yourself, you even imagined it was his cock, how he would feel buried to the hilt inside of you. You wondered what he would be like, but something - this day in particular - told that he was big. And he would get the job done.

But it wasn’t going to happen. 

Nope. No. Nah. You were just his sidekick little employee that most definitely was not going to act on any impulsive or rash decisions. You might have been a lot of things, including a huge fool in that moment, but you weren’t that stupid. You didn’t need to create some unnecessary strain in your relationship with the stoic warrior or even worse, lose your job and home and be left stranded in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. 

Even as you tried to rationalize all the ways in which acting on your impulses was a horrible idea, the frustration and the throbbing between your legs didn't wane. You were getting so desperate and pathetically needy that you sat on the edge of your small bench just at the angle so you could get a little bit of friction on your clit. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

As you rocked back and forth, trying to keep the little mewls and whines from slipping past your lips, you realized you couldn't do this.

You couldn't risk getting caught by the Mandalorian. Oh yes, everything's fine, just getting myself off. Don't worry, I'm super horny because of you. Yeah of course I'd love your cock.

Yeah. Cool, cool, cool. This would never happen. 

Just when you before you reached your breaking point and had your hands halfway to your soaked core, you stopped. 

"Kriff," you sighed to yourself as you pulled your hand back out and stood up. What the actual fuck had gotten into you? A few commanding words you were completely losing your control. Either you were desperate for a release from something other than your own hand or you craved the mysterious Mandalorian. 

Hastily stashing the impeccably clean blasters back into the weapons cache, you discarded the rag as you quickly came up with a plan. 

Tiptoeing quietly back to where the little one was sleeping, you sneaked a peek and saw that he was still fast asleep. He wouldn't even notice you were gone - that's what you tried to convince yourself as you delicately touched his soft ears and button nose. 

You weren't sure if you were speaking of the Mandalorian or the baby. At this point you really didn't care. 

You glanced back at the ladder towards the cockpit, watching almost as if you expected him to come down and catch you sneaking out. Hells, technically he'd know as soon as you left the ship. You scrawled a quick note telling him that you needed a cleaner or something, in your haste you couldn't even remember what you put, and would need to go to the market.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was totally plausible, you insisted to calm your own nerves as you slipped on your boots and a cloak before making your final decision to leave. Attempting to be as quiet and subtle as possible, you slowly made your way off the Crest and started scurrying towards the nearby desolate town of Mos Eisley. In reality you looked more like a scrap rat scurrying away from the light than a woman heading into town to find something. 

Whatever.

Mos Eisley wasn’t exactly known for its sparkling reputation, and you were sure you could get exactly what you wanted quickly enough. In and out, you thought to yourself as a flush rose in your check, well precisely that. For at least you were hoping. 

But the Mandalorian, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for a reason, and didn’t miss a single trick. He was aware of what you were doing before you even left the cargo hold. If he was this frustrated and turned on you by you, his cock hard and straining against the confines of his pants, he was sure you must have been in the same position. 

Oh, but he had been close to breaking, just like you. How easy it would have been to seal the hatch to the cockpit and relieve himself of the desire and ache. But no - just like you he had limits and wasn’t about to give in and stroke his hard cock while you were within earshot. No matter times he had imagined it - fucking your mouth or burying himself deep between your luscious heat before pounding you into oblivion, he wasn’t going to give in this easily. 

He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but with your little backtalk and the way you had looked at him with those wide doe eyes and pretty pouted lips sure had him feeling like one. The thought of burying himself inside you, to watch as you bounced on his cock with your tits in his face was enough to make up his mind. 

One time couldn’t hurt, right? People had casual encounters all the time.Why should this one be any different? If you were willing of course, although judging by how your pupils had dilated with each word from his mouth, had little doubt you felt the same way; but consent of course was key. 

And tomorrow? You’d be back to being the same way you had always been.

Hopefully. Maybe. Probably.

Fuck.

This was a bad idea, and the small, sensible part remaining in his brain told him so. But he was too far in, too deep and lost in his own desires to stop himself. 

He was watched as you ran away, deciding to wait until you were halfway to Mos Eisley before going after you. He’d take the kid to Pelli, sure she’d more than happy to watch him for the night. The rest? That was to be all consumed by you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The old cantina was dirty, dingy, and smelly. There was no doubt in your mind it must have been at least a decade since it was cleaned, and yet it still remained a hot spot; granted not for those of politer society, but enough to get the job down.  You pushed that to the back of your mind as you clambered through the crowd and to the bar, sitting down next to a handsome Zabrak you had spied when you’d walked in. You’d never been with one his kind before, but you’d heard rumors of them, especially when it came to their prowess behind closed doors, and something within you was piqued. 

He must have sensed something was up - as soon as you sat down, he motioned for the bartender to come back and bring the two of you a new round. 

“You’re new here,” he said gruffly, a dangerous edge to his voice, sharp like a knife as he took one of the luminescent drinks and shoved the other towards you.

Before you could even move to grab your drink or utter so much as a word in response, a hand darted and quickly grabbed your wrist, the grip biting and firm. 

“She’s mine,” the words washed over you before you could even turn to look at the Mandalorian. His chest was rising and falling heavy as his visor was trained on your would be companion for the night. A shudder ran up your spine as he pulled you off the stool, the two men glaring at each wordlessly. 

He pulled you behind him, storming out of the cantina as the crowds parted at the sight of the gleaming silver beskar. They knew better than to stand in the way of the Mandalorian. You felt like a child being scolded as he refused to acknowledge you, keeping his gaze trained straight as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. 

“What the hell, Mando?” your question was an indignant shout as your voice climbed an octave. His grip didn’t waver for a moment as he grunted in his response. Oh, he was mad. Yup. Definitely. You had fucked up. 

Any thought of talking back or prodding him further were estopped as you could see him fuming as he dragged your ass back to the Crest. 

This was it, you realized. This was the end where he would fire you and send you packing. Of all the places in the galaxy to be stranded, Tatooine was not one of your top destinations. No one to blame but yourself, you reckoned. 

Instead you hung your head as he refused to look back, making quick work of opening the cargo hold and shoving you inside. There was something about his touch that was rough, almost sending you falling to your ass, but there was still an odd gentleness.

You stared back at the blank visor in challenge, attempting to figure out what was going on. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared back at you. Neither of you were about to get a good read on each other. 

“Did you really think it was a good idea to just walk away without saying anything?” his voice was dangerously low as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with either a smart response or an excuse but instead of anything coherent, it was a mixture of the two. Great. Now he's going to think you were an idiot on top of everything else. 

“I didn’t...just um...doesn’t matter what you...I needed something from the market?” you swallowed the lump on your throat as you dropped your gaze to the floor. He sighed for a moment - heavily - as you’d come to know was his penchant to do. 

“You needed something from the market?” it wasn’t a question so much as an accusation.

“Mhmm.”

“What was it?”

“C-cleaner,” you lied. Somehow it sounded better than saying yeah, I really just wanted a quick fuck because you have me feeling some type of way. 

“There's a new cleaner right in the cabinet,” he said as you internally groaned. He was right - there was a brand new gleaming bottle on the top shelf. He’d gotten some last week, “or did you conveniently forget that?”

“Umm,” you couldn’t get anything else out as he took a step closer and left minimal distance between your bodies. He reached up and put a hand under your chin, turning your face up to meet his, “uh huh.”

“Uh huh, honey,” his voice warmed you up from inside out as you gave him an innocent look. If he hadn’t known what he was doing earlier, he certainly did now. And he was going to milk every second of it, to push this as far as it would go. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a subconscious gesture, but not unnoticed by the Mandalorian. His hand slipped from your chin and jaw and slid until he was gently holding your throat. His grip was light, and he was barely squeezing, but Maker, you wished he was, “is that really what you were going to do?”

“Y-yeah,” how much longer were you going to keep up this little facade? You had no clue. But the feel of his hand around your airway, pushing slightly, ever so slightly, had your mind positively reeling.

“Then why did you go to that filthy old cantina?” he leaned closer, his helmet mere inches from your face as you closed your eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you the heat pooled in your belly, “why were you talking to Zabrak? Did you really think he was going to fuck you? To make you feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you managed to murmur after a few beats of silence as you realized what was happening. This was new, uncharted territory - for the both of you - and if you went any further, there would be no going back. And you - fuck it. Your eyes snapped open as you turned to look into the visor, right where his eyes would be, “needed someone to do it, since you never would.” 

And there it was - finally out in the open and hanging thickly between the two of you. All you could ever was a small huff from under the helmet and you were positive he was smirking like a victorious predator.

“Is that what you want, honey?” he asked and you nodded. Give and take and then...it all broke, “get on your knees. Now.”

And you wasted no time sinking onto the cool metal floor, now level with his cock, where you could see the hardness straining against his rough fabric. Shaky fingers worked to hastily pop the button and pull the zipper, but just before you could get to what you wanted, Din roughly grabbed jaw, turning your face up to his, “you take what I give. Yeah?”

“Yes,” you promised, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each word. But then, with another gentle tap to your chin, he seemed almost...gentle, “Mando?”

“If you don’t want this, just say stop,” he waited for you to nod as you a sense of warmth fluttered over you at his desire for consent, “I will not be gentle, I will not-”

“Give it to me then,” you beamed at him before turning back to his cock and pulling out of his underwear. You almost moaned at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking already; and just as your little fantasies had led you to believe, he was more than adequate. 

Spitting into your palm, you took him in your hand, pumping him a few times before licking the head, just small light licks, just enough to tease. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you played with his balls for a moment, earning what you were sure was a small groan from under the helmet. Making it a point to draw it out, you shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand went to the back of your head as he pushed you onto his cock. 

A sound of surprise was muffled by his cock as you took all of him into your mouth, doing your best not to gag as he hit the back of your throat and your nose brushed against the soft curls of hair at his base. Your hands slid up his thighs and found purchase on his hips as he began to fuck your mouth. He started slowly at first, almost as if he was afraid to give too much. When you grew accustomed to him, making it a point to hollow your cheeks and suck him as best as you could, he picked up the pace. And it was brutal in all the best ways, spit was starting to run down your chin along with a few tears that had spilled over, but if nothing else, it worked to spur him on. 

“Look at you,” he grunted between thrusts as he took in the sight in front of him, “take me so well. Knew your big mouth had to be good for something. Always wanted to fuck that pretty face.”

You hummed in delight as you raked your nails over the exposed slivers of his skin on his hips, golden and delicious and you wanted it all. His thrusts slowly become more erratic and sloppy as he twitched in your mouth. His hand dropped from the back of your head as you took over and put a hand back on his shaft as you worked to finish him off. 

Soon enough he did, followed by an almost primal growl as he came, his hot, thick, cum coating your mouth and you eagerly swallowed all that he offered, which unsurprisingly, was a lot. As his breathing slowed down and he slowly came down from the rush of his high, you pulled back from him, looking up at him with innocent eyes and a wicked smile. You cleaned him off, but just as you went to wipe at your mouth, his gloved hand was faster and he collected the spit and cum that had spilled out and pushed it back into your mouth with two fingers. You grabbed his wrist and made a show of sucking his fingers clean, tasting him along with the worn leather of his gloves. 

“Good girl,” he praised before hoisting you to your feet, “strip.”

“What about you?” you turned your head to the side, but he shook his head in response. He paused for a moment, almost as if he was having second thoughts, but just quickly, he whipped off his gloves and tossed them onto the floor before putting a hand on your cheek and stroking it tenderly. You swallowed thickly before nodding and working to pull off your clothes. 

First was your shirt, tugging slowly over your chest and tossed down to join the gloves. Your arm went to your back as you tugged off your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders as an almost nervous breath escaped your lips. 

“Keep going,” he commanded, eyes trained slowly on you as he drank in the sight of you. You undid your own zipper and pulled your pants and panties down in one fluid motion before kicking them off along with your boots and socks. You’d never felt more vulnerable or exposed in that moment, wanting to cover up but also relishing in the fact that you seemed to have rendered the Mandalorian speechless. He looked you up down, not bothering to hide the fact as he looked at your form, glancing at your soft mound before your breasts and then landing back on your face.

Beckoning for you to come closer with a simple crook of his fingers, you did so, standing directly in front of him. His hand flitted from your cheek and down your body before resting at the apex of your thighs. You gasped lightly in surprise as he dragged his fingers through your soaked folds, coating them in your copious arousal, before chuckling darkly. A hand immediately went to his shoulder as you steadied yourself and tried not to completely lose it at the simple touch, “all of this for me, honey?”

“Mhmm,” you admitted as he gently rubbed over your clit, teasingly in the slowest, most tantalizing way possible. Before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “always think about you. Always get so wet.”

He made a small, noncommittal sound as he pulled his fingers away from your wetness and brought them to your lips. He tapped your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, sucked his fingers clean from your own arousal, “I’ve thought about fucking you too. That mouth, that pussy. You’re such a brat, but you drive me crazy.”

“I like when you get mad,” you said as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, “‘s sexy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice deeper and lower than ever before, and you felt your knees start to buckle at the sheer sex it exuded, He brought his large, warm hands to your tits, touching over your pebbled nipples as you bit back a moan. While you wished it his mouth on them instead, this touch was just as well, as he massaged them, trying to get a good feel of them and seeing what drew out those sweet mewls from you. But before you could enjoy it too much, one hand gripped your waist like a vice and the other went between your legs. He ran his thick fingers through your folds, before slowly inserting one into your wet heat. You moaned as he slowly inserted another and then a third, stuffing you full and already having you seeing stars in no time, “make yourself cum.”

“What?” your eyes snapped open as he stilled his actions, “you’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he lightly teased your clit, eyes boring into yours, “you act like a brat and you want to cum? You have to work for it.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned as he moved to pull his hand away, as if to show you just how serious he was. This time, you caught his wrist and held him in place. He chuckled lightly in triumph as one of your hands returned to his shoulder for balance and the other went to play with your sensitive bundle of nerves. He held completely still, a practiced and patient man, as he made you work for it. He wasn’t kidding by any means when he said he would not be gentle. 

He remained quiet, watching your pretty face shift through a range of expressions as you worked to reach your own high. He was glad for the helmet, for if you had been watching him, you’d have seen the tinge of pink rising in his cheeks as the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d envisioned this many times, no doubt about that, but he’d never thought it would become a reality. Maker, you were gorgeous as you thrust onto his hand using him for your own pleasure a string of gentle filth spilled from your lips as you rubbed slow circles onto your clit.

“Mandooo,” it was soft as you felt that familiar blinding haze start to take over you, and your toes involuntarily curled and your cunt started to clench around his fingers. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as your vision turned blurry and that familiar warmth started to spread all over your limbs. He felt his cock twitch from where he had tucked himself back in after you’d pleasured him. Before you could finish though, something different met your ears.

“Din,” he said as bit your lip in order to keep from crying out completely, “my name is Din.”

And there it was. Completely unexpected and out of the blue. It wasn’t just a name - no it was so much more than it. It was a sign of trust, of closeness, of the fact that whatever this little situation was, it was neither the first or only time something like this would happen. No, your story with Mando may have come to an abrupt end, but your relationship with Din was just beginning.

It was almost as his name, uttered softly and almost unsurely, was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge as you came around his fingers. A soft moan left your lips along with the sweetest sound he was sure he’d ever heard, “Din.”

A merciful man when he chose to be, he took over for you and worked you through your orgasm as you almost collapsed into his arms, “there you are pretty girl. You did so well, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

“Not enough,” you rested your against the soft cowl of his neck as he pulled his hand from you, but not before slapping your ass a few times, almost as if testing to see how far he could push you. You made a few sounds of delight at the sting, only spurring him on as he slapped and then gently needed the ample flesh of your backside, “please, need you to fuck me.”

“Is that what you need, pretty girl?” he purred in your ear as he pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, taking in the already blissed out expression on your features, “you want me to fuck you? Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you were practically ready to beg at this point, “I’ve been wanting it for so long.”

At your words, he almost dragged you to the small bed that was reserved for you in the corner and motioned for you to sit. You watched with eager eyes as he scrambled for the waistband of his pants and hastily pulled them down and kicked them off, letting them join your discarded clothes. He practically ripped off the rest of the beskar until he was bared in front of you, save for the helmet. His cock was already painfully hard again, standing at attention and leaking fat drops of precum.

“Can I trust you?” he asked as you nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. You’d never questioned the fact that you’d never seen his face or that he apparently just never showed it to anyone. You respected him and his decisions, and you’d never dare to push the envelope or destroy his trust. 

“Always,” you promised as he walked over to the wall and hit the switch for lights, cloaking the room in darkness. You sucked in a breath before you heard him shuffling about and the beskar helmet clanged against the metal floor. He stood in front of you, you could feel his breathing as he touched your cheek before wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Hands and knees,” he instructed with a delicious rasp, made even better by the lack of filtering from the vocoder of his helmet, “now.”

The singular word was enough to send a fresh rush of arousal through your veins, as you laid on your belly on the small cot before positioning yourself so your ass was in the air. He shuffled behind you, his large hands grazing over the soft flesh of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart before dragging a thick finger through your soaked folds. A small sound of pleasure rippled through your throat as you clutched onto the thin, scratchy blanket of the bed, “please.”

“Quiet,” it was harsh and biting as  the palm of his hand slapped your ass, the sting delicious and leaving you wanting more, “you like that, don’t you? You like being spanked, pretty girl.”

“Only by y-y-you,” before you could say anything, he slapped your ass a few more times before kneading the soft flesh to make sure the sting wasn’t too painful. 

Mando - no, Din - shifted his weight and you could feel him line himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds. A moan escaped your lips - and his - as he slowly pushed into you, giving you a brief moment to adjust to his considerable size. The stretch was amazing, the slight burn quickly turned into pleasure and you felt full, so completely full. He groaned as he bottomed out, already feeling pussy dumb by the way your velvet walls hugged him, “this - kriff - this pussy is perfect. Just like it was made for me.”

“Din,” you buried your face in your pillow as he pulled out, slowly, before thrusting sharply back into you. He was not lying when he said that he would not be gentle. His large, warm hands went to your hips as he held them in a bruising grip. You were sure you’d bear his marks for days. 

He set a bruising pace, thrusting into you with no mercy as he slammed his hips into yours. There was nothing gentle or intimate about, no - this was months and months of pent up frustration and desire coming out all at once. Din was not a talkative man, but as he fucked you into oblivion, he was whispering strings of filth and praise into your ears. All you could do was lie there as he pounded into you, so lost in your own pleasure as you became a whining mess under him.

Before he came, his arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. One large hand went to play with your breasts as the other went to your clit as he rubbed and circled at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your mouth hung open in a blissful haze as he kept going, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your skin and shoulder, alternating between nipping and sucking and making sure to leave plenty of marks so everyone knew you were his. 

“Look at you, pretty girl,” he grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so well. You love this don’t you? Getting used like this.”

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip as he kept going, kept abusing your spent pussy as he started to stutter in his thrusts, “‘m so close, please, wanna come.”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” he commanded as you nodded, “and I’m going to fill you up and make sure you know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” you insisted as you felt your walls clench around him and his cock start to twitch, “only yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised as he turned your head to place a rough kiss on your lips. It was the sheer act of the moment and feel of his stubble that sent you over the edge and cumming all over him. You were like jello in his arms as he held you up, giving you a few more thrusts before spilling inside and coating your walls with his cum, “ahh - fuck - so fucking good. Maker, you feel like no other. Perfect pussy - just for me.”

He held you tightly against his body as he caught his breath, the two of you breathing in sync. You thought he might pull away immediately, but instead, he pressed more kisses, chaste compared to your previous actions, down your back as he slowly lowered you onto the bed. You couldn’t even form words as you laid there, cockdumb and already feeling his arousal along with your own dripping onto your thigh. 

“You did good,” he praised gently before reaching between your legs and scooping up some of his cum that had started dripping out. You whimpered at the touch, still sensitive, and listened as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Din gently flipped you onto your back so you were lying face up and exposed to him. He sat between your legs and slowly spread them apart, admiring his handy work. He leaned back before climbing off the small and getting on his knees, pulling you towards his face. Just as you had gotten on your knees for him, he kneeled only for you. 

“Din,” you sighed contentedly as he kissed along your inner thighs, working his way back to your dripping heat. He nuzzled his nose against you, taking a moment to take it all in, “already so much."

"Come on, honey," his voice was like liquid gold as he reached up and touched your breasts, cupping them easily in his large hands, "you've got another one in you. I know you do. Aren't you a good girl?"

"Mhmm," you arched into his touch as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. How this infuriating man got you to become a pile of mush in his hands you'd never know, but you definitely weren't going to question it. He leaned up and kissed your hips before burying his face between your legs, "I'm your good girl."

And with those words, he licked a long stripe up your soaked folds, still soaked from your combined juices. His nose, which you presumed was aquiline in nature, nudged your clit as he ate you like a starving man. You were the shining prize, glimmering in the distance, and he was the wrecked man crossing the desert to get to you.

This time you didn't even bother to hold back as you mewled and cried, tears of pleasure and overstimulation welling up at the corners of your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. Din hummed in content as he licked and suckled at you, making sure to focus on your clit as you came completely undone.

Reaching down, you carded a hand through his locks - curls - as you pressed his face against your aching core. You could practically feel him smirking against you as he slipped a few fingers inside to join his ministrations. Expertly curling his thick fingers, he quickly found the sweet spot that made your toes curls and you see stars.

"Almost there," he grinned as he gave you a moment of reprieve before diving right back in, "I can feel that perfect cunt squeezing around me. Taste so good, pretty girl."

"D-Din," his name falling from your tongue was like pure magic as he became transfixed by how it sounded. Your mouth dropped open in a small O as your legs shook around him. He pulled his fingers from you as he held down your hips in order to keep you from squirming away from him, "feelssogood - makerohstars - Dindindin."

"Come all over my face, pretty girl," his tongue darted into you for a few moments before he gave your clit a harsh suckle. That was all it took before you came again, screwing your eyes shut as he worked your through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your juices, refusing to waste even a drop, "there you are - taste so fucking good. Perfect."

He was relentless until he was sure you were completely done and a practical ragdoll on the bed. Slowly, he pulled back from you, trailing light kisses up your body, stopping when he got your face. Almost as if he was able to see even in the almost complete darkness, he wiped away your remaining tears. He hesitated for a moment for leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You sighed softly as you rolled onto your side and scooted closer to the wall, making room for him. 

It was a big thing you were doing, boundaries had been crossed and blurred and any rules you'd previously had were thrown out the window. Neither of you were sure what came next.

But you did know that you didn't want him to leave - not yet anyway.

"Din?" you asked softly as he pulled the blanket over your spent body; he was surprisingly gentle for a man that had just sent you to heaven and hell and back. 

"Yes, pretty girl?" 

"Will you stay?" your voice was small as you prepared yourself for defeat and for him to leave.

"Yes," he whispered softly as he slid in under the blanket and next to you, "I'd like that."

"Me too," you admitted as he shifted and pulled you in his arms so you could lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heart, "Din?"

“Hmm?”

"I'm in charge next time," you smirked lightly as you kissed his soft skin. He inhaled sharply but you could tell he was into it. The man might have just been in charge, but you had a feeling he might like being told what to do as well - and you were going to find out, "I want to ride you."

"Kriff," he groaned under his breath, "You're going to be the death of me, little brat."

"I'll make it worth your while," you promised with a small yawn, "I'll have you crying in no time - begging me for mercy."

“Mhmm.”

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” it was your turn to put your hand on his throat and give it a gentle, but firm squeeze as he stiffened at the feeling, “I know you’re a good boy, Din.”

“Fuck.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[sugarless5]

Pen’s book has probably always been my favorite in the Bridgerton series so I’ve been over analyzing everything about how her and Colin’s story is changing - not to be mad because it’s not my precious book version, just because I’m invested and I can’t stop myself from overthinking it all. So these are just musings without a value judgement about how the differences are playing out for me. Warning: this will be a very long post because I am a very long winded person. Seriously I do not know the meaning of the word “concise.”

1. One of the fun things about the book is it’s a little meta. Penelope has been just sort of there, off to the side for all of the other books, so when Colin comes back from Cyprus and goes “holy shit, has she been this awesome this whole time?! why has no one noticed?!” he’s kind of speaking to us. In an interesting way, we relate both to Penelope - most people have had hopeless crushes or felt shunted to the side - but we’re also Colin. We haven’t really noticed Penelope before either, and we discover how great she is alongside him. It’s no accident that we don’t find out she’s LW until halfway through a book that’s from her perspective as well as his. We’re supposed to discover this hidden depth to her alongside him.

Now that just wasn’t a possibility in the show for a thousand reasons. One is that you’ve got to get this project greenlit so you’ve got to engage interest in everyone. Also there’s no way the fact that she’s LW and Colin’s love interest would stay a secret until season 4 (or 3). But primarily: you don’t hire Nicola Coughlan just to shove her to the side for 3 years. I mean, come on. So it totally makes sense that things can’t unfold for us the way they do in the books.

2. So since we already know she’s LW of course they’re going to use that for conflict and tension - it would be a waste if they didn’t. But that’s definitely changed our perspective on her - in the books outside of fashion comments, she only brings down the awful bullies. So book Penelope hasn’t been put in the position to make the kinds of choices we’ve seen show Pen grapple with. It takes her secret identity from something just really clever and impressive to something that’s both of those, but also much more complex

3. Knowing that she’s LW this early gives them a chance to explore how she does it a little more which I’m really happy about. It’s really cool to see her pretend to be a maid and march into a print shop and make demands or negotiate a deal with Madame Delacroix. But now it’s a little jarring to see that version of her take up so much screen time and then see her turn into a stammering mess with Colin. Of course it’s fine to be confident in some situations and not in others, but I do feel like the two sides of her have been presented in a way that’s kind of jarring and makes the shy, stammering version of her that the world sees - the one that we saw centered much more in the books - a much tougher sell to us as the audience. I’m not sure what the answer is - maybe some sort of nod to her social anxiety (”I don’t know, El, it’s just when I know people’s eyes are on me it’s like my tongue swells and my thoughts freeze up!” or maybe more of people being actively rude to her or talking over her or dismissing her - something that may say to the audience “this is why she’s nervous in those settings, even though we know she more confident in others” to help with that cognitive dissonance)

4. This isn’t as much about Pen but about Colin. In the books it’s clear from page one why she’s so in love with Colin. I mean he’s hot, popular, and charming - but more than that it’s because he makes people feel good about themselves. She fell in love in a moment when he had a moment to be an ass and he reacted with humor and slight self deprecation. He’s not the only man who’s been been prodded by his mother to take pity on her and dance with her, but he’s the rare guy who never made it seem like a chore. He seems to lift up everyone around him without even trying and you see why a girl who often dismissed and overlooked when not outright bullied would have fallen for someone known for making you feel good - or at least smile. Benedict has taken on a lot book Colin’s humor - leaving show Colin only with the frustration of wanting to be taken seriously - a plot point that is half fair and half kind of annoying for reasons Pen calls him out on in the book. So I don’t mean to be rude to show Colin - he’s a total sweetheart. But we see a Pen that confidently walks into publishing offices in disguise and makes deals with dressmakers, but can’t stammer out a sentence with Colin, and a Colin that seems very sweet, but that’s kind of it. I absolutely, viscerally understand why book Pen was so hopelessly in love with book Colin for so long. For show Polin and I think I’m going to need to see more than longing looks and stammering to feel the same.

5. Structurally, in the books we see this cool role reversal - Pen starts out  overlooked by society, by her own family, and even a *tiny* bit by her best friend. And then Colin comes around and he really sees her. But then halfway through, because of the surprise reveal, suddenly she becomes the one with the accomplishments and she’s grown more confident and he’s the one who’s unsure of himself and a little insecure. Because he’s been built up as the popular charmer through so many books the role reversal is a neat development. And just like his attention and encouragement helped her come into her own, Pen’s faith and encouragement gives him space to explore his own hidden depths. It turns the relationship into one that’s really balanced in a lovely way. I think because we know she’s kind of badass, but Colin and the rest of society don’t - and because in the show Colin is so different in so many ways - we’re going to need to see them strike a different balance.

Just to reiterate, because this is turned into me extolling the virtues of the book version - the differences aren’t necessarily bad, they just prompted me to overthink the structure of the book and what made it work for me. I’m curious and really excited to see how they end up navigating those changes for their story. I’m sure they’ll do a wonderful job with it!

[selfawarejester]

Hey can u please do a teen wolf imagine set in season 2 where she is either Scott or stiles sister and she is sneaking around with isaac (they kinda had a thing before he got the bite and after isaac got more confident so he made a move)and isaac sneaks into her room at night and instead of Allison it’s is y/n that Matt was stalking and taking pictures of and obsessed with and he had pictures of her and isaac kissing and stuff and maybe he leaves the pictures in her locker and it freaks her out and you decide the rest. (Sorry it’s a bit dark)

Oh, I love me some Isaac!!! Forgive me if I get some details wrong, it’s been a while since I saw s2. And I’m gonna make you Scotty boi’s sister, because Melissa 🥰

You weren’t the dating type, much to the relief of your mother and your brother - and for some reason, Stiles, but you preferred to pretend that you didn’t know that. - which is why it was such a shock when you drag Isaac Lahey of all people to sit with them during lunch one day.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N-“ Isaac tires to say, shooting the boys a wary look, but you just shush him and shove him into a seat. You brightly grin at the shocked faces Scott and Stiles before confessing that you’d been dating Isaac for a while now.

Scott freezes for a full thirty seconds.

Stiles chokes on his hashbrowns, and almost dies in that same time period.

“Da- you’re dating him?” He splutters, pointing at a smirking Isaac. “You’re dating him? Oh my god, what the- Scott, say something.”

Stiles gives you a look that says ‘you’re gonna get it now’ which slowly slides off when Scott just keeps quiet, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Wha- Scott, say something.” He grits out, and you roll your eyes, tired of their dramatics.

“All right, enough! Seriously, people are staring.”

That gets Scott moving again, as he looks around to find that people are, indeed, staring. He’s still shocked because when did you start dating?? But now he’s asking questions like when did you two start dating? Why did you keep it a secret so long?

He always knew you kind of had a thing for him: all the flirty banter, and the lovelorn glances…

You and Isaac started up two months ago, you explain, but it’s been pretty low-key so that he can hide it from his dad. (You don’t outwardly say this, exchanging a specific look, but both you and Scott have been pretty sure something was going very wrong in the Lahey household — Scott had smelt blood and fear wafting off of Isaac way too often for it not to be.) So he kinda just?? Accepts it??

He’s concerned, duh, but you’re so happy and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that. But he sternly tells Isaac he’ll kick his ass if he hurts you. Isaac, to his credit, stifles his laughter and genuinely tells him that he’d rather die than hurt you; and that’s good enough for Scotty.

Of course, all of this changes when Isaac becomes a beta.

He does it for you. He wants to be able to protect you, to love you without fear of losing you or getting you in trouble. Derek’s assured him that your protection is a priority of the pack, because even in his slightly power-greedy Alpha state, Derek wouldn’t let what happened to him and Paige happen to his beta.

Stiles and Scott hover around you throughout the whole time Isaac is suspected of murdering his father. Sheriff Stilinski tried to kick them out during your questioning, but they squeezed onto the small couch in his office and just stared at him the whole time. You were shocked and scared and obviously didn’t know anything, so he sent you home pretty quick.

Melissa’s freaked out because 1) you lied to her?? 2) you’re dating now 3) and it’s a boy suspected of murder. So, yeah, maybe she’s questioning her parenting a bit, but she’s really trying to be supportive.

Scott corners Isaac at school (Stiles is there too, naturally) after the whole ice rink thing, without Erica or Derek, and he swears he’d never hurt you. Unfortunately, you walk in right at that moment.

You know when both of them are lying, so you force the truth of them, then and there. You get thrown off guard, of course — they thought you’d react like Stiles, or just like most of the people in those movies react: with a lot of surprise but general and immediate acceptance.

You do immediately do something: leave and avoid both of them for the next couple of days. Your mom’s curious as to why you’re so distant, and why Scott keeps begging you to talk to him, and why you’re avoiding him -- but ultimately, she lets sleeping dogs lie, because she hopes you’ll come to her with something really important.

You hang out with Lydia and Allison a lot more, Allison backing up for Scott by keeping you safe — she tries to defend him for you, but you make it clear you need a lot of time before you can think about that stuff. She also tries to turn you against Isaac, but you’re even more closed off to that.

Lydia is a fresh breath of air, because she is just as confused about this (even if it’s only possibilities and vague stuff) and she doesn’t wanna know more either. She keeps things light between you and Allison, and keeps your mind off of things. But it doesn’t work when Allison and the others drag you guys to your house for a weird “study session” that gets crashed by a giant lizard thing- god, this was your life now.

Isaac grabbed you, and locked you in a bathroom before the whole thing really started. You scream at him to stop, scream for Scott, and beat on his chest, but he just screws his eyes shut and forces you in there — he knows you’ll hate him afterwards, but he also knows you might run straight at the Kanima if it came for him or Scott.

You do hate him afterwards. A little part of you understands why he did it, and it’s unfortunately the same part that still loves him. But you’re still hugely pissed off, especially after Scott and Stiles tell you that he tried to kill Lydia. So the next day, when he tries to talk to you at school, you glare at him until he goes away.

In swoops Matt, all “charming” smiles and “funny” jokes. He sees his chance: months of watching you and Isaac be all cutesy had paid off. He knew what kind of humor you liked — unfortunately, all it did was remind you of your boyfriend and keep you guys at a distance.

God, he hated it. Bad enough that someone was keeping you from him, but that it was Lahey. The brother of the guy that drowned him, the son of the guy that screamed in his face about how it was his fault- no. He had to break you up.

So he consolidated all the pictures that he’d taken of you: candids of you at school, at home, at the coffee place you liked. He slips them into your locker, and watches you squirm and look around. It’s working. Then, it’s those pictures of you and Isaac, kissing at your secret spot, necking in your bedroom, smiling at each other — labels it “Remember the good times?”

You’re trying to talk about it to Scott, Allison and Stiles, but they’re busy with the Kanima. Lydia tries to help, but she’s so out of it and she has been for a while and you’re starting to get worried.

It gets to a point where you run to Isaac, tears in your eyes, and photographs in your hands. “Is this you?” You sob, and he just pulls you into his arms shushing you - “No! No, babe, I’d never do that!” - and promises to keep you safe. You stay glued to his side after that. Boyd is nice and calm, a contrast to Derek who creeps you out a little.

Through his first full moon, you stay with him and keep him grounded. Your voice keeps his father’s out of his head, keeps him in control.

You’re standing off in a corner, watching with a smirk as Erica - who you’ve gotten weirdly close to in the past few weeks - and Isaac double team Jackson (it’s actually… kinda hot? Especially because damn Isaac keeps looking at you); but your view gets obstructed by Matt. He’s trying to talk to you but you barely listen, keeping eye contact with Isaac over his shoulder. Then they leave with Jackson, and Matt makes a move on you. You flinch away so hard, you hit the counter and get the bartender’s attention.

You confront him about the pictures and he splutters for an excuse. The bartender kicks out Matt, seeing your distress, who’s now more desperate for your attention than ever.

Matt - or the Kanima- kidnaps you during Lydia’s party and keeps you in his basement. You’re scared out of your mind, begging for him to let you go, but he promises you that there won’t be anyone in your ways from now on. While everyone’s dealing with the fiasco at the police station, Isaac, Boyd and Erica come get you.

He’s trying not to cry when he sees your busted lip, the bruises around your wrists where you were tied down.

Boyd and Erica decided to leave, but Isaac didn’t want to leave you behind. So he goes to Scott and Deaton, and becomes a good guy, helps out with Jackson and everything!

He also starts living with you guys, which you’re very excited about ;) But Melissa is very careful about leaving you two alone. And Scott’s stupid senses screw you over in that he interrupts every time you get to more than kissing.

But you find ways. 😉😏😏

Hope you liked it! I think I changed a few things, and I tried to keep the canon timelines for everything, but yeah!

[some-kindofgnome]

you turn me on (i’m a radio)

bokuto comes over one night midweek while you’ve got the apartment to yourself. after a mishap with his favourite volleyball shorts, you take advantage of the privacy.

c: koutarou bokuto x reader

wc: 5.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), college au, aged-up characters, oral sex (both receiving), praise kink, begging, soft and sloppy sex feat. bo the horny simp giving u the creampie of ur life, body worship if u squint

notes: bo has a fat ass and I have a praise kink. that is all. oh, wait, i should also mention that this is mostly unedited. so if u see typos feel free to point em out! thx 💕

the song this bit is named after is so sweet and sunny & makes me think of bo all the time, so give it a listen if you’d care to! ☀️

ALSO forgot to mention that this was inspired by a tiktok i saw like a million years ago where this girl was helping her boyfriend get out of his too-small rugby shorts. it has been lost to the ether but you better BELIEVE if i ever find it again i’ll be linking it here

EDIT: @karikarasuno​ the absolute ANGEL has scoured the internet and found the tiktok in question.  p l e a s e go and watch it, u will not regret 😌

(MASTERLIST)

“’Kay, okay, I’m going!”

Bokuto tears himself from the tender press of your mouth in one fell swoop. As he whirls away with a tempted giggle, he combs his fingers through his mussed-and-sweaty hair. Practice was only two hours tonight, but he still doesn’t want to leave your side even long enough to shower.

You’ve only been dating for a few months, still lingering in that phase of every new relationship that feels too good to last. Your emotional involvement in one another deepens by the day, but you never fight. And you have a shamefully difficult time keeping yourself away from him. On a weeknight like this with no big assignments to speak of, you should be catching up on your readings, your chores, or even your sleep. But when you passed Bo in the quad earlier, pausing in your walk to class for a hi and a kiss, you’d invited him over before you could even stop yourself.

He’s nice to be around. Pleasant, unhindering. Even if you wanted to finish some readings or do some laundry while he’s over, he’s happy to be idle in your company. He is infuriatingly patient and understanding sometimes, compared to the slew of demanding, needy boyfriends that came before him.  

You watch him retreat into the safety of your bedroom, grinning like a fool. He’s fresh out of practice and practically dripping in sweat, dried from the walk you shared from the athletic center. Your evening class that night wrapped up around the same time as his practice, and when you passed the gym doors on your way home, he was already loitering on the steps with his teammates. Instead of pretending he didn’t see you or offering you a casual, passing nod like you expected, he practically bounded down the wide concrete steps and introduced you gleefully to the pack of volleyball players behind him who already knew you well.

There was no way you were letting him go all the way home to shower first. Not when he’s never minded smelling like your orange-and-sandalwood shower gel in the first place.

Once he’s disappeared, you give a yawn and a deep stretch and haul ass off the couch, padding into the kitchen to tidy up the snacks you shared on the way in the door.

You’ve barely got the first plates in the sink before a muffled babe? from the bedroom gives you pause.

“Bo?” You call back, setting your handful down and trying to keep your brow from furrowing too deeply. “You okay?”

“Can you… um…” His response starts off strong, louder than before, but it dwindles into a dull, unintelligible mutter that sounds uncertain enough to send you away from the kitchen.

You gently shoulder the bedroom door open, frowning at his broad shape, silhouetted in the shadowy bathroom doorway from the light behind him. “What’s the matter?”

Feeling along the wall for the light switch, you illuminate the pot lights over your bed.

Bokuto’s cheeks are gently flushed as he waddles toward you with his thumbs dug into the waistband of his volleyball shorts. The fabric is tough and certainly seems clingy, but there’s a strain in his neck and shoulders that takes you a minute to pin down.

“I can’t…” he starts to say, trailing off, then pulls his hands out of his shorts and drops them to his side with a heavy, defeated sigh.

“They’re stuck.”

You force the corners of your mouth downward, tightening the line of your mouth to keep the mirth locked firmly in your throat.

“I can see that.”

He’s been hitting the gym hard lately, shoving down the calories to try and bulk up a little for the upcoming tournament season. And while you know he’s been putting on some weight, since he tells you just about everything, it never occurred to you that he might be bulking up quick enough to outgrow his favourite shorts.

Bo lets out a quiet little whine, digging a thumb into the waistband one more time and prompting you to step forward.

“How stuck are you?” You reach for him. He turns sideways, twisting his chin over one shoulder to try and assess the situation from every plausible angle.

Oh. You slap a hand to your mouth.

The waistband is rolled down around his hips and already strained to its absolute limit, stuck on the sharp swell of his butt and already compressing the flesh in a way that looks genuinely painful. He’s wearing a pair of tight white compression shorts underneath the uniform shorts in question, but they’re not doing much to aid the situation, either.

You’re eager to get him out of those shorts for several reasons now.

“Alright.” You try to keep your voice low, stepping up to his front and gently laying your hands on the stiff cotton roll at his hips. “Let me just-“

“I don’t know what happened,” he whines, slotting his hands on top of yours and squirming in between them. “They were hard to get on, but-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted softly. “We’ll get them off you one way or another.”

The fearful reflection of your sharpest kitchen scissors in his eyes suggests that he believes you.

Your first two attempts are about as successful as Bokuto’s solo endeavours. First, you wedge your hands into the fabric at his sides while he pushes from the front and back, but you give a hard shove while he lets up on the tension and his elbow very nearly connects with your nose, so you try a different approach.

Coming round to his backside, you dig your hands into the space between his uniform shorts and the tight spandex that holds what’s left of his modesty.

“Okay,” you pant, already a little breathless after dodging Bokuto’s flying elbows. “What if I-“

“Hang on,” he prompts, but it’s too late. You wind up and jump as hard as you can, using the downward force generated to try and shove the confining waistband down over his hips. It slides down another couple of inches, and inspiration flares in your chest as Bokuto turns over one shoulder, sweating.

“It’s working!” Your voice comes shrill with excitement, and before he can stop you you’re jumping again, shoving even harder this time. You meet resistance this time, and before you can clue in to what’s pushing back Bokuto howls in pain and doubles over, clasping his palms between his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” You drop to one knee beside him as he descends into pained laughter.

“’S alright,” he promises, “I didn’t want kids that bad, anyway.”

You can’t help the snort that bubbles forward from your chest. Bo straightens slowly as his pain fades, but you stay on your knees, determined to get him undressed without resorting to textile violence.

Determination settles heavy and proud across your shoulders. You look up through your brows at him and when your eyes meet, his cheeks pink softly.

“We got this.”

Bokuto’s throat bobs. He nods shallowly and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

You slip your hands into his shorts again, rolling them slowly down his thighs. Bokuto averts his eyes, letting out another audible gulp. Just when you’re starting to get somewhere, his hips twitch and he shifts his weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

“Stand still,” you scold, giving his hip a little slap. His breath hitches, hands flinching forward as he dips his torso backward.

“Um,” he pants. When you look up at him again, his neck and ears are bright red and he’s got his eyes trained firmly on the Star Wars poster hanging above your desk.

You level your gaze and realize two things.

1) Bokuto’s not wearing anything under his white compression shorts.

2) Apparently, your little scare wasn’t nearly as painful for him as he let on.

“Babe,” you tease. “I’m flattered, really.”

“C’mon!” He protests, scraping his fingers through the wild strands of his sweat-clumped hair. “What’d you think was gonna happen if you got down there all…”

“All what?” You lean forward without thinking, nuzzling the spandex that sits in the groove between his hip and his thigh. He groans deeply, letting his head fall back. His cock, thickening at the base, is still restrained tightly by the waistband of his shorts. You can practically see it throb into its confines, and his groan pinches tight with discomfort.

“Baby, please.” He’s wound his hands tightly in the front of his t-shirt by now, rucking it up over his belly for some way to dispel the tension. “Get ‘em off. Please.”

“You’re not exactly making it easier.”

A desperate whine from over your head suggests that maybe the time for jokes is passing. You abandon all coyness and tuck your hand under the weight of his balls, gently tugging down on the waistband and freeing all of him from its confining pressure. Bokuto gasps and lets his hips swing forward, but his dick swells quickly to fill its new, spandex restraint and you figure you’d better work quickly.

“God, this is really turning you on, isn’t it?” You can’t help the eagerness in your tone as you attack the swell of his hips one last time. With all his sensitive parts in the clear you don’t have to hold back, wedging and wrenching until the widest part of his pelvis is free and the shorts drop to the floor with a soft little triumphant rustle.

Bokuto groans like he’d just been strapped to a time bomb, stepping out of the fabric and kicking it towards the door. He drops the hem of his shirt and reaches for you, but you’re already leaning in to nose against the crook of his thigh some more, peeling down the stretchy, forgiving top of his compression shorts.

“Wh- babe.” He flushes. “I haven’t showered-“

“Don’t care,” you hum, entranced by the hypnotic length of his shaft, white spandex stretched sheer and dabbed with wet at the tip. “Want to taste you.”

“Are you s- oh, you’re sure.” His hands surge forward, this time soothing lovingly over the crown of your head as you tug the stretchy fabric down to his knees. His cock bobs eagerly against one thigh, unaffected by its confining endeavour, and you lean in and seal your mouth against the seam of his groin, where his shaft meets his body.

He is bulky and broad, thick cords of muscle and fat spanning his thighs and torso. His thighs and pelvis are dusted all over with wiry silver hair, and you bury your nose into the trimmed patch of it over his cock, licking eagerly at his soft skin.

Above you, Bokuto shudders hard enough to buckle his knees while you trace your hand up the stiff length of him. You’re trying your best to hide just how deeply you want to breathe him in, the addicting musk of his sweat filling your brain and sending deep throbs of arousal straight to your pussy.

“So hard,” you groan into his hip, “just from letting me get on my knees for you?”  

He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing at the back of your head as his eyelashes flutter. His face is beet red from nose to hairline now.

“W-well, what else was I s’posed to- with you lookin’…” He is borderline incoherent, and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Adorable.

“You smell so good,” you murmur without thinking, flicking your eyes to his quickly when you realize what you’ve said. But it only serves to push his own arousal further, cock throbbing palpably between your fingers as he curses quietly through his teeth.

“Please,” he groans, letting his head roll back. “Don’t tease.”

You can’t deny a request as pleasantly worded as that.

After planting one more teasing kiss along the plane of his shaft, you draw back to his tip and give your tongue an enthusiastic flick, dipping it into his weeping slit. He yelps, and you swallow him down before he can ride out the shock, making him shiver. You can feel the tremor racking all the way down the column of his spine, his toes curling on the floor by your knees.

When you start to bob your head, his jaw goes completely slack. You’re learning to love the way he doesn’t hold back with you, a point made obvious by the expressions crossing his face as you settle into a steady rhythm. You can’t fit his entire length- impressive, not that he knows it- into your throat, but when you grip the base of his shaft with one hand and the spit from your throat drips eagerly between your fingers, he practically goes cross-eyed.

You fight the urge to smile around him, leaning into the way he fusses and grips at your skull.

“Nggh, babe, not gonna last long… when… suckin’ like that.” He’s grabbing your head with both hands, rocking his hips tightly forward in time with your gaudy slurping. You’re drooling all over your hand, spit dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the hardwood, but his whimpers are growing to obscene levels, punctuated by deep, chesty growls and quiet, slurred praise.

There’s no way you’re going to back off now.

You’ve been with Bo long enough to know his tells, so when his thighs start twitching and his voice pitches from his chest into his throat, you re-double your efforts, intensifying his pleasure until he’s howling and panting like a beast, rocking tightly into your mouth with his abs drawn tight as a bow.

“Ohhh, babe, lemme cum on your tits,” he pleads, slurring every syllable together as he looks down at you with unimaginable bliss mounting in his gaze. “Please, please, please, your tits, lemme cum on ‘em.”

With a smirk touching one corner of your mouth, you drop your free hand between his thighs. Until now it had been braced delicately on his hip, gently mitigating the wild bucks and twitches of his body giving into ecstasy. But you’d picked up one little trick that never failed to boost him over the edge- and send him falling that much further as a result.

As you draw your mouth back from his twitching cock, you close your free hand around the heavy sack of his balls- drawn up tight to his thighs in preparation for his orgasm- and give the supple skin a gentle little tug while you arch your back and jerk him off against the swell of your chest.

Bo’s voice shoots up a twelve-tone as his hands slide from your hair to your cheeks. His fingers tremble as he cups your face, throwing his head back with a wild yowl and wildly humping your fist. The first long spurt of his cum hits you square in the throat, dripping down between your collarbones and soaking the neckline of your tank top as he rides out the powerful waves of his climax. By the time it’s over, his thighs are shaking hard, tough lines of muscle standing out against the silver hair while his cock dribbles ripe streams right down your shirt.

He deflates with a heavy, heady sigh, falling to one knee in front of you and keeping your face gathered between his palms.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he moans, leaning in to capture your mouth and dip his tongue sloppily against yours. As soon as he’s found your lips he skates his hands down your shoulders to your breasts, lovingly cupping and thumbing the tightening buds of your nipples where thick shots of his cum are soaking into the white cotton. You can’t help the shaky little sigh that catches at the back of your throat, or the aching way you lean into his touch.

“G’nna-“ he cuts himself off, dipping his face into your throat. He licks into the tender column of your windpipe, bringing one big palm to the back of your neck to hold your head steady while he tucks his chin in and tastes the wet stripes of his cum that paint your décolletage. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but the long, wet groan he lets into your chest is a pleasant surprise. He slides his hands from your neck to your shoulders to your sides and up the plane of your back, drawing you closer while he laps the mess from your collarbones and neckline.

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the swell of your left breast. “Gotta taste all of you.”

He slips his arms underneath you, lifting you with little more than a quiet grunt of effort as he gets to his feet. He holds you lovingly against his chest, striding slowly across the room and depositing you onto the bed with a smooth little bounce.

You hardly have the space to catch your breath before he braces a knee on the mattress beside you and leans down for another taste of your lips, kissing you slow and loving and skating a palm down your front. He slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingertips across your clit and making you yelp. Chuckling into your mouth, he dips his fingers lower and gasps.

“God,” he sighs. “Shoulda known you were holding out on me.” He sinks his middle finger into your clingy depths while he catches your mouth under his one more time. You’ve been unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, pinned sensuously under his touch, but as he curls his fingers against the restrictive insides of your leggings, you whine deep and slow into his mouth, arching your back to push your hips into his touch.

He doesn’t linger, drawing his hand from you and curling it in the waistband of your leggings instead. You’re slipping your fingers under the hem of your soiled tank top, pulling it up to expose the bare swell of your breasts.

“Let me?” He poses it like a question, pulling your leggings and underwear down and fluttering a kiss to the newly exposed skin below your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, already planting your feet in the fluffy sheets to lift your hips and help him undress you.

He pulls your leggings and underwear down over your hips in one smooth motion, pulling just a little harder than necessary to make you gasp and giggle. Your ass lands on the mattress all at once, punctuated by another handful of mirth that you can’t keep contained.

Bo’s grinning down at you as he balls up your clothes and tosses them toward the hamper like a mid-court basket shot. He doesn’t wait to find out if they made it, though, settling himself between your knees and gathering your hips into his arms.

“So soft,” he purrs, kissing the velvet skin of your tummy.

“Bo,” you whine. It’s your turn in the hot seat, and now the idea of teasing isn’t half as appealing as it was when you were on your knees.

“What? You don’t want me to take my time with you?”

You groan, letting your head flop back against the pillows as your eyes slip shut. Now that he’s got you bare, with his breath puffing hot and wanting over your tender skin, it’s hard to focus on anything but what you want.

“Don’t be mean,” you whine, but the hot press of his tongue on your inner thigh shuts you up fast. He moans low and rumbly against the damp of your skin, sinking his teeth gently into the fat of your thigh and giving a noisy suck.

“You’re so ready for it,” he muses, eyes darting sideways to admire your weeping slit. The buzz of his voice shoots right down the column of your spine, vibrating pleasantly at the base of your tailbone and sending goosebumps racing up your torso.

“Man,” Bo sighs, planting one hand on each thigh and pushing them apart. “You must really like suckin’ me off, huh?”

“I swear,” you grit. “I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t-“

He doesn’t waste another minute, leaning down and sealing his mouth greedily over your slit. The payoff is there for both of you, if the sound he makes when he dips his tongue between your folds is anything to go by.

The relief comes on swift wings as soon as he lets his tongue wander, stoking the fire that had been burning dangerously low and hot in your gut. Your thighs twitch in toward his ears while he tastes your messy slit, but his palms are as strong as shackles, keeping you open and vulnerable for him.

Bo prods his tongue forward, pressing inward as far as he can with a tiny little strained groan of effort. You cry out and clamp down around his tongue like a vice, a reaction he feels so vividly it makes him whip back from your body with a laugh.

“Don’t stopppp,” you plead, but his face is already disappearing between your thighs again, and you wrap your fingers in the hem of your tank top while he re-focuses his efforts on your swollen clit. He’s pressing his hips forward in a slow tempo that matches the patterns he tongues between your thighs, softly humping the mattress in time with your pleasure.

You’re sensitive and ready for him, stomach tightening smoothly when he settles into a rhythm. His technique is sloppy but he makes up for it in eagerness, pausing only to take deep breaths through his nose. He smiles into your skin and you can feel the way his mouth twitches against you, making you arch your back and slide one hand between your legs to rake through the silvery strands of his mussed hair. He grunts hard against your clit and you jump, giving him the chance to slip his hands under your thighs and hook them over his shoulders.

When he swallows you down this time, there’s something in the changed angle that drives pleasure straight down your back, letting it reverberate all the way into your toes. You flinch hard between his hands, and as he settles back into his messy, enthusiastic rhythm, you feel the telltale twinges of your building climax.

“Bo-“ you choke on his name.

He flicks his gaze to yours and his eyes flash, bright and golden. He knows your tells, too, and he sinks his fingers into the fat of your thighs, re-doubling his efforts and sucking a languid rhythm into your needy clit.

“Fuck,” you sputter. “Fuck, f-fuck, I-ah-“

Your mouth drops open, but the scream dies in your throat as white-hot pleasure bursts through your veins. Bokuto is heartbreakingly persistent, keeping up his ministrations while you claw at his hair and clamp your thighs down around his temples and ride the waves of your orgasm as gracefully as possible. By the time the sharp, burning pleasure’s raked its way through you, all your limbs have gone tense, and when it’s over you collapse, sweat-soaked, to the sheets beneath you.

Bo’s trembling between your legs, and when he surfaces his cheeks and ears are maroon. His cock is still twitching against his belly, bobbing as he gets onto his knees and still weeping long streams of spend.

“Oh.” The word flies from your throat before you can trap it, and he rubs your thighs soothingly with both hands as he takes a shaky, cleansing breath.

“You’re so-“ he starts to say, but you reach for him and he’s got no choice but to dip his cheek into your palm, flushing even deeper at the open way you stare.

“C’mere,” you prompt. Bo takes the bait and flops forward, landing stomach-first on the bed beside you and pillowing his head between your slick breasts. The position ought to be comical, but the weight of him is immensely soothing, rising and falling with the even pulse of your laboured breath.

You lie that way for a long while, staring vacantly past your reflection in the dark window beside your bed. The nighttime chill radiates through the glass, cooling your heated flesh. Your body aches with the fresh sensations of climax, but you’re not ready to put your clothes on yet.

“Bo.”

“Hmm?” It never occurred to you that he might be half-asleep until he winds himself upright, blinking weighty silver lashes against his still-blushing cheeks.

Still, you know how to wake him up. The conspiratory grin that touches your mouth is completely involuntary, and it’s enough to have Bokuto cocking a tired brow.

“Can I ride your cock?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. His eyes grow slowly bigger, focus drifting away from your face as his jaw drops. Literally.

“Bo? Baby?”

“Y- b- I… h-“ he sputters, blinking hard and shaking out his sweaty hair. He looks up at you again with an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Like a kid at the zoo.

“Right now?”

You can’t hold back a snort, shoulders pitching forward. But he’s not kidding.

Neither are you.

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a yes?”

By the time he rolls over, his cock’s already half-hard again, swelling against the strong cord of his right thigh. He sits up, scooting himself comfortably back against your bed’s stacked pillows. And when he reaches for you, you’re already rooting through the nightstand for supplies.

Bo’s a big dude, in every conceivable way. And while he’s never exactly been shy about that fact, he’s also painfully aware of the fact that with great power comes great responsibility. So when you start to warm a dollop of chilly water-based lube between your fingers, he doesn’t flinch.

“Mmmf.” He pushes his hips into your hands as you wrap them around his shaft, letting him swell into your palms while you slick him up. He’s still tender from before, and when you shift onto your knees your clit’s still tensing with leftover pleasure, but you’re buzzing with want. It hangs thick and heavy in the air between you. You’re unwilling to let it dissipate until you’re both completely satisfied.

By the time you’ve got the lube spread evenly from his base to his tip, Bo’s fully hard for you again, flushed and panting and grabbing at your hips as you scoot forward to straddle him. His impatience should probably bother you, but at this point it’s just endearing.

“Hmm, you’re so close,” you say, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. His mouth drops open as you bring his tip to your ready sex. Your pussy clamps involuntarily around the swell of his weeping head, and you’re panting into each others’ mouths as your hips sink slowly backward. The fill of him presses up into your belly, and you bottom out with a little flinch of discomfort, settling your thighs over his. He’s long enough that it actually hurts to take him in all the way like this, but you’re willing to put up with it for a minute while you get adjusted.

“Look at you.” Bokuto’s eyes rake up and down your trembling form, keeping time with his strong palms that rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips. You shift a little, making him twitch and grunt. His thighs strain, struggling to keep from bucking upward against your tender cervix.

He lets out a deep, shaky sigh through pursed lips. “You’re so f-fucking perfect, you know that?”

You’re concentrating on tucking your knees underneath you for proper leverage, but he never fails to make you smile.

“I haven’t even started moving yet,” you breathe, bracing one hand on his shoulder. Once you’re stabilized, you lift your hips slowly forward, letting the thickness of him pull slowly from your slick depths. Bokuto’s head falls back against the pillows, beet red with exertion already.

“God,” he groans, bringing one hand around to your ass. “More, baby.”

You swallow hard, grip his hips tightly between your knees, and swirl your hips in a careful, tight little circle. It’s a subtle movement from the outside, but where you’re joined it rubs the thick ridge of his tip along all your tenderest nerve endings, sending powerful surges of pleasure vibrating into your chest.

Bokuto’s feeling it, too, the hard angles of his jaw standing out as he clenches his teeth. His silvery lashes rest heavily over his flushed cheeks, giving you little more than a bare peek of his dark, tawny eyes with the pupils blown wide in ecstasy.

“Just like that,” he prompts when you angle your hips forward, pinning your abused clit against his pubic bone and continuing to grind greedily over his shaft. He interrupts your rhythm with a sharp little pat to your ass, making your hips jump forward and giving him an opening to lower his chin and seal his mouth in the crook of your shoulder.

“Fu-uck,” you whine, looping both arms under his and clutching tightly at his back as your rhythm grows more urgent. You know how to work yourself to the peak easily, using his powerful body and thick cock to your every advantage.

“You’re close already,” he pants in your ear. “Oh, man, I can feel it. Don’t-“ His hips jerk backward, choking him on a surge of pleasure that washes over both of you.

“Don’t hold back for me, baby. I c’n… take it, yeah, that’s it.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear reverberates all the way down to the pit of your stomach, cocktailing with the pleasure you’re grinding out yourself, and when he grabs your ass with both hands and rocks his tip against the gooey-sweet spot on your upper wall, you’re lost.

“Bo,” you whimper, grabbing tightly at the muscles in his back as your thighs start to shake. “Fuck, oh, fuck, ohfuck-“

The peak crests quietly between you, but quickly bleeds into every limb. You’re powerless to do anything but cling to him and whine in his ear as your hips stutter and twitch and grind over his stirring cock. Just when you think the wave is subsiding, Bokuto glides his hips beneath yours again and draws it out into a tight, near-painful shudder. Your vision whites out, then flashes black as you squeeze your eyes shut and lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Fuck.” Bo’s cursing as you come back to the surface, humping shallowly into your spent body. The lube you used squelches obscenely with the handfuls of slick your climax brought forth, numbing your used insides to his desperate thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so- you’re so- ohgod, inside, I-“

He goes completely incoherent as he finds his own pleasure, shoving his hips tightly against yours. His balls draw tight beneath you, thighs twitching as thick, heady warmth fills your belly. You’re addicted to the fullness he leaves in you without fail, the mess between you when he goes slack and you draw your hips backward to let his falling erection slide out of you.

Your roommate’ll be back from the library at any second. You should be getting up and dressing yourselves, making some attempt at feigning innocence before she comes in. But the bedroom door is closed and it’s far too easy to tumble back into the haphazard embrace from before, cum collecting sticky and hot between your thighs as Bokuto buries his face between your tits.

“D’you think they’ll stretch?” he mumbles into your skin, once your pulse has finally slowed to its regular pace.

“Hmm?” In your pleasure-addled haze, you don’t follow. Bokuto lifts his face from your flesh, resting his chin gently on your sternum.

“My shorts.”

Right.

“Uh-“ You have to purse your lips hard, to keep the dumb smile from showing on them. You take a slow pass of air in through your nose and lift your fingers to comb soothingly through his sweaty hair.

“We’ll make them fit,” you promise. “Somehow.”

Before he buries his face in your chest again, you catch the pure, blissed smile that stretches his cheeks. He slips his eyes shut, nuzzling you tenderly and kissing the swell of one breast.

“Good,” he sighs. And then, bare-assed, sweaty and sticky, he falls asleep.

You spy the shorts, still lying in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door. You make a mental note to check the brand and sizing later, before he leaves.

You’ll make then fit again.

Somehow.

[linasobsessions]

Are you sure about that? OR 4 times you were just a hookup + the one time you weren't {Matthew Tkachuk}

AN: First time writing on this blog after probably one and a half years. But this idea just kinda stuck in my head

Word count: 3.2k

1.

Hooking up with Matthew was easy. The first time he took you home was after a night out at a local bar with his teammates, just having won an important game and being a step closer to clinching a playoff spot. You had been out with your girlfriends trying to escape the stress of college exams.

You already had a couple of drinks and since your friends were much wilder than you, you decided to get some water to sober up a little. At least one of you had to stay conscious this time and not black out. Waiting on your drink you tapped your fingers on the wood of the bar to the beat of the music playing in the background when you felt another person sliding in next to you.

Deciding to ignore it you took your water that was finally handed to you. You pulled some bills out of your pocket to pay but were stopped midway.

"Put it on my tab."

The deep voice left a shiver down your spine as you turned your head to look at the man next to you. The first thing you noticed was the curly blonde mop of hair on his head, wild and tamed at the same time with racing stripes shaves into the sides. You let your eyes wander to his face, over his sharp, scruffy jawline to his clear blue eyes. His lips wore an smirk that made you want to roll your eyes at him as the next sentence left his mouth.

"Are you Tennessee?"

He went back to smirking as you only raised your left eyebrow. He leaned down so his mouth was close to your ear, making sure you heard every word he said. This could either go really good or really bad.

"Because you're the only ten I see."

Now you did roll your eyes. And it seemed like he was enjoying that he was annoying you. You leaned back to get more distance between the two of you and looked into his eyes. They shone with mischief and you made it your mission to put him in his place.

"Did this line ever really work?"

He shook his head and looked down at the beer in his hand. You noticed his hands fidgeting around the bottle. Was he nervous?

"No. But I thought someone like you would be annoyed at a line like this. And I was right. You see, it's kind of like my job to get under people's skin and it seems to work outside of that too. I'm Matthew."

He held his hand out to you. And as much as he annoyed you, you were intrigued by him as a person. He seemed like someone you had to get to know. So you accepted his handshake and told him your name as well. Back was the smirk on his face and you knew another remark would follow.

"It fits. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous person."

Your head snapped down in an attempt to hide the blush that was spreading over your cheeks. Grumbling a 'shut up' while shoving his shoulder. That pick up line started out an amazing conversation and at the end of the night you and Matthew were like old friends. During the conversation you switched back to cocktails so it was no surprise that you were getting more affectionate. While Matt was telling a story about how he beat up his younger brother Brady when he was twelve you couldn't help yourself to reach your hand out and run your hands through his curls. It was incredibly soft and your sexual frustration made you wonder what it would feel like to tug on it while his head was between your legs. Matt seemed to notice you starting to press your legs together to relive the pressure between your legs. Back was the smirk of the beginning of the night as he rested his hand on the top of your thigh and leaned in again. Your noses were brushing and if one of you moved only one inch your lips would touch. It made you restless.

"You wanna get out of here? My apartment is just around the corner."

You nodded and he paid for the drinks and pulled you outside to get to his apartment. The rest of the night was spent kissing each and every inch of skin with hands roaming around each other. Your bodies were moving in synch and if wouldn't have felt so amazing you might have been worried about the fact that his body felt familiar to you already.

When you were done he fell into the pillows next to you, both of you panting heavily. Assuming this would probably be a one time thing you got up to clean yourself up in the bathroom before starting to get dressed. Matthew lifted his head and looked at you through half-closed eyes. As he noticed you were getting dressed he sat up and fidgeted with his hands again.

"So this might sound weird. But can we do this again? I had a really good time tonight and I feel like we could be really good friends."

Confused by his words you raised an eyebrow for one last time that night. His face now wore a smug smile as his thoughts seemed to have traveled further.

"And the sex is great. So it would be a win-win situation for us. I just can't do a relationship right now and it would be cool if we'd have a casual thing."

As you shimmied back into your jeans you let out a giggle. And then you noticed your blouse on the floor. Ripped. He really had ripped your favorite blouse. Your eyes searched through his bedroom to find something else to wear. And you were successful. Grabbing the Grey hoddie laying on the floor and pulling it over your head you turned back to Matt to give him a cheeky grin.

"Well since we're friends now you won't mind me taking this, do you? Give me your phone so I can put my number in there."

He handed you his phone and you saved in your number with a wink emoji next to it. You gave it back to him and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"Until next time Matty."

And you were out of his apartment.

-----

2.

The the next couple of month the hookups with Matthew became more and more regular. But you also became really good friends. You hung out at his apartment a lot and you could talk about anything and everything for hours. The flutter of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach when you were with him were blatantly ignored. You couldn't afford to fall in love with him. He had been clear from the beginning that he wasn't looking for a relationship so you granted him his wish. That didn't mean that your heart didn't ache when his phone lit up with a text from another one of his hookups and he was quick to kick you out of his apartment. Not that you would ever tell him that though.

Even when you now were considered close friends it still surprised you when Matt invited you to a team party. They had clinched a playoff spot and were now celebrating it. At first you didn't want to go. You didn't know any of his teammates and in no way wanted to intrude on their celebration. But Matt had insisted.

"Come on, babe. I need you there. You're on of my closest friends. It wouldn't be the same without you."

Babe. That had been a nickname he began using for you. It didn't help the feelings blossoming in your chest. It made it even worse. And that's also what made you break in the end.

The amount of people in Mark Giordano's house was overwhelming. People were crowding around a beer pong table and you could see some space had been made in the dining room to have a dance floor. Matthew pulled you into the kitchen first. He knew you weren't that great with new people and really shy at first. So he would get you a drink to loosen up and make you more open. While your drink was strong he just grabbed himself a beer and pulled you further to the living room. He soon found Noah and Jonny who smirked as they saw him approach with you holding his hand. Noah saw this as an ultimate opportunity to tease Matt.

"Oh would you look at that! Chucky got himself a girl. About time!"

Your cheeks glowed with a blush while Matthew only laughed and made sure to disagree with him.

"Noah shut your mouth. This is my friend (Y/N). I told you about her."

You looked at Matthew with wide eyes. He had told his teammates about you? What else had he told them?

Noah and Jonny introduced themselves to you and before the conversation could start up again a brunette head full of locks pushed themselves between Matt, Noah, Jonny and yourself.

"Matthew you brought someone! We seriously need more girls here. To even out all this testosterone."

You blushed yet again. Why would they not stop assuming you were together. The girl grabbed your hand and gave you a bright smile.

"I'm Meredith, Jonny's fiancé. Come on. I'll introduce you to the rest of the girls."

Before you could say anything else, Meredith had already pulled you away from Matthew. The rest of the night wasn't as bad as you would have thought. The girls were incredibly nice and with a couple more drinks in you were dancing with all the girls. It was a fun time.

Something you didn't notice though, was that Matt was keeping an eye on you the entire night. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone else except for you two. Jonny nudged Noah when he noticed Matt looking after you yet again.

"Just a hook up my ass. Look at him."

------

3.

Sadly the season had ended sooner for the Flames than they would have liked. Being eliminated from the playoffs in the first round wasn't a great feeling and it was showing. The whole city felt like it was in a slump. You could only be thankful that Matt was back in St. Louis so he wouldn't have to witness it. Even if you missed his presence.

Back in St. Louis Matthew was also missing you. He had gotten so used to talkinh to you so often and spending time with you as much as he could that he swore that he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. He constantly checked his phone to look if you had texted him and was looking through old photos of you. And again. It was incredibly obvious something had change.

Brady thought his brother was sick because he wasn't chirping him as much anymore. But then he heard Matt talking to you over the phone. He had never heard Matthew talk so soft with someone. Usually it always was snarky remarks and sometimes even straight up rudeness. But this was something else. Compliments, encouraging words and even the phrase 'I miss you'. There had to be something up with him. So he brought it up at breakfast the next morning.

Everyone else was already down at the kitchen table. Brady and Taryn were eating breakfast while Keith was reading the daily newspaper and Chantal making herself breakfast when Matthew came down. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which he did. What his family didn't know tho was that he had been on the phone with you for hours, even falling asleep on facetime at about 3 am. Matt rubbed his eyes as he pulled a bowl out of a cabinet and made himself some cereal. And Brady, on brand with he was, saw the perfect opportunity to embarrass his big brother.

"Matt, who were you talking to last night?"

Matt's head shot up so fast it was almost impossible. The kitchen went silent as four pairs of eyes were now on Matthew's face. He felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. Chantal narrowed her eyes at her son's blushing cheeks. He never blushed. Not even when he was young and had his first crush on a girl. Never. So this was news to the whole family.

"Uhm-"

Matt brought his hand up to scratch the back of his newly cut hair. You had scolded him last night that he better get back to clagary with curls or else. You were about as intimidating as a playful puppy, but he would never tell you that.

"I talked to a friend. She's back in Calgary and going through a tough time with college right now. "

Now Taryn's eyes were the ones narrowing. Damn those Tkachuk girls and their true suspicions.

"A female friend? Is that even possible for you?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. Of course his sister would eventually chirp her brother. He should be used to it by now. No family member is safe from chirping. Maybe their mom. But otherwise no one.

"Yes a female friend. We only hooked up a couple of times. She's just a friend that I have fun with from time to time."

The whole family except for Matthew let out a groan. No one wanted to know what or who he was doing in his free time. But Brady was still not convinced with that answer. There had to be something else.

"I don't belive you. You would not be this soft for someone who is just a hook up or a friend. There's no way."

Matthew tilted his head at the statement of his brother as if he wanted to challenge Brady.

"Well she is. Don't put your nose in my business."

-------

4.

The emotion in the locker room were going wild. Defeating the leafs was one thing but defeating them at home with a shutout was something else. Matt had scored a goal so it was understandable he was over the moon. As they started to get out of their gear Matt looked at his phone. Just as he had expected it showed a text you sent immediately after the game. A smile lit up his face.

'Congratulations Superstar. You played a good game today, that goal was incredible. I'm so proud of you. Btw thanks for letting me stay at yours. I would have never been able to concentrate with my roommates at home.'

Gio, who had been aware of the situation with you both, noticed him looking down at his phone. It was as if Matt had heart eyes. And he had been observing the pining for too long. He had to say something.

"(Y/N) texted you?"

Matt looked up from his phone and at his captain. He nodded with the smile still on his face.

"Yeah. She congratulated us on the win and thanked me that she could stay at my apartment."

Now it was Gio's turn to look confused.

"Wait -. She's staying at your apartment? Why?"

Matthew shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Yeah. Her roommates are always incredibly loud so when exams are coming up I let her stay at my apartment. She can concentrate better then."

Gio shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. And he's had enough. It was about time Matthew realized what was on front of him.

"Are you sure she's just a hookup? Well friend with benefits or whatever."

Matt nodded, completely sure of his answer.

There's was no way you were more than a friend, was there?

"Well it seems different to me. You spend like all your free time together. You bring her to teamparties and then watch her so nothing happens to her. When we're on the road you're constantly texting and she's staying at your apartment while you're not there because she's studying. Sounds a lot like a committed relationship to me. Figure it out. Before one of you gets hurt."

It was like an enlightenment for Matt. He realized that every little thing had first been done because of the connection you both had. That connection had later been turned into love. He had fallen in love with you without even knowing it. But he was sure that you felt the same.

He couldn't wait to get home to you. The whole flight back to Calgary he had been antsy and was fidgeting with his hands. Something he knowhe had done since he met you. You made him nervous.

He opened his apartment door to find you sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop and books scattered all over it. You were still studying. With long strides he walked up to you, something you haven't seen him do before.

"Matty what -"

You couldn't even finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. His hands cupped your cheeks as you clutched onto his wrists. Still overwhelmed with that kiss you couldn't bring a word out. Matthew could.

"I am completely, utterly, stupidly in love with you. And I know you feel the same. I'm so sorry that I'm such an idiot and didn't notice before."

With a small smile you moved your hand from his wrist to his cheek as you pulled him to you to kiss him yet again.

"You're right. I am absolutely in love with you too, Matthew Tkachuk."

------

+1

You were back in the bar you first met Matt. It brought back good memories and you couldn't wait to make more. Different to that, you were now out with the Flames and the other WAGS to celebrate an important home win. You and Matt were sitting in a booth with Jonny and Meredith as you and her were talking about the wedding preparations she had made. Matthew was talking with Jonny about something completely different but the slight glances and his hand on your thigh made you aware of his constant presence and his protective nature over you. Not that you were complaining.

After you had talked about the wedding bouquets her and Jonny had chosen, you turned to Matt.

"Babe, I'm gonna get myself something to drink. You want something?"

He shook his head and pecked your lips.

"No baby, I'm good. You go ahead."

You made your way to the bar and ordered something to drink as you felt someone tapping your shoulder. Assuming it was one of the WAGS you turned around with a smile that quickly fell when you saw the stranger before you.

One thing you could describe him as was sleazy. He had gelled back hair and his smirk was probably supposed to ooze confidence. For you it just made your hair stand up. And not in a good way.

"Hey. You alone here? I can show you a good time."

He moved closer as you pressed yourself against the bar and were looking around for your boyfriend.

"Actually-"

You didn't have a chance to finish your sentence as you heard the voice of your boyfriend freeing you from this suffocating and uncomfortable situation.

"Hey! That's my fucking girlfriend, you dipshit!"

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Chaconne: Part 2 (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: After auditioning for who is often considered to be the world’s scariest conductor, you begin working for Agatha Harkness and the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. 

Word Count: 4.9K

Link: Dvorak’s New World Symphony: Movement 4 (Performed by the Vienna Philharmonic)

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGdtkUiKaA8

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m back with part two of Chaconne. I’ve included another link to the fourth movement of Dvorak in case anyone would like to listen, (it’s one of my favorite recordings and I definitely recommend it) but if classical music isn’t your jam I understand. Also, I would like to warn this is going to be major slow burn, but I promise there is a light at the end of the tunnel...eventually. Part 3 should be uploaded in a few days! I hope all of you enjoy it, and as always please feel free to leave a comment :) Oh! Also I think I’m going to make a taglist for this story, so if you would like to be added just comment or send me a message.

A week later marked the first symphony rehearsal of the season. You had barely seen Agatha all day. The woman was running from meeting to meeting with investors and the board so she had given you small tasks to complete in her absence. You were busy rearranging the small personal music library she kept in her office when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” You called out as you began sorting through the Baroque Era.

The door opened a moment later and you were glancing at a few different scores when you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, you saw Wanda Maximoff standing in the doorway.

“Well hello there,” Wanda drawled out, clearly looking surprised. It took you a second to wonder why until you realized you were in Agatha’s office. “You’re not Agatha.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “No...um, no I’m not. I’m Agatha’s new assistant, Y/N.”

Wanda gave you a curious glance. “Her assistant,” she mused, taking a step further into the office. “Does she treat you well?”

You shrugged. “She feeds me a few times a day, buys me coffee. It could be a lot worse.”

Wanda chuckled. “Well it is very nice to meet you. I’m Wanda Maximoff.”

“I know who you are,” You blurted out before realizing how creepy that may have sounded. Glancing at Wanda, you were relieved that she seemed more amused than anything else. “I mean, it’s such a pleasure to meet you, Miss Maximoff. I’m a huge fan of yours.”

“Call me Wanda,” The pianist insisted. “You’re sweet. I’m surprised Agatha hasn’t had you running for the hills.”

You felt strangely defensive over the criticism regarding Agatha. “She really isn’t bad. I’m learning so much from her.”

Wanda looked surprised but smiled nonetheless. “You’re a very sweet girl, aren’t you? Do you know when Agatha will be back?”

“Um...” You trailed off and tried to remember when Agatha said she would be done. “It might be a while.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” Wanda said confidently, taking a seat in a leather chair. “I can keep you company.”

So you spent the next half hour sorting through music. At some point Wanda had offered to assist you, and although you assured her you were fine, she insisted. Which is how you found yourself discussing your favorite eras of music with one of your favorite musicians.

“Well isn’t this cozy,” Agatha’s voice rang out from the doorway causing you to jump.

The conductor had a scowl on her face and you could practically see the anger seething out of her. Wanda, on the other hand, smiled brightly at Agatha. “Agatha, so lovely to see you again. I was just getting to know your assistant. She’s a delight.”

Agatha glared at the woman, before giving you a quick once over. “Of course she is. What are you doing in my office, Maximoff? We aren’t rehearsing with you until next week.”

Wanda shrugged, not phased by the other woman’s attitude. “I thought I would stop by to catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve worked together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at that. When did Agatha and Wanda work together? Agatha certainly had a lot of negative thoughts regarding the younger woman, so it would make sense that they had worked together at some point. You were just surprised Agatha never brought it up during one of her many long ‘Maximoff Rants.’

“I’m very busy,” Agatha replied, appearing to grow angrier with every word that came out of the red head’s mouth. “Right, dear?”

At first you wondered who she was talking to, until you noticed the pointed look she was giving you. You offered Wanda a polite smile before slowly heading over towards your boss. “Of course, Miss Harkness. You have to leave for your meeting with potential new investors and then we have to discuss new programs and publicity posters before rehearsal this evening.”

“I see,” Wanda was giving both of you a look that suggested she knew you were lying. “Well I should be on my way then. Lovely seeing you again Agatha, and it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” she said sweetly as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze on her way out of the office.

Once she was gone, Agatha all but slammed the door shut and your eyes widened at how angry she appeared.

“What did she say to you?” Agatha asked curiously eyeing you.

You shrugged, because Wanda didn’t really say anything to you. At least not anything important. “Nothing really. She asked who I was, insisted she wanted to wait for you to come back, and then she offered to help me sort through the music.”

“I didn’t realize the work I gave you was so complex it required a second set of hands,” Agatha spat out as she slowly moved closer to you, and you wondered what you said to get that reaction.

“It wasn’t,” you argued, feeling your temper grow and getting more flustered as Agatha moved even closer to you. “She was just being nice.”

Agatha huffed and stalked back to her desk. “Fine. She was just being nice. Now no more talk of Maximoff. I’m starting to get a migraine.”

“I’ll go get you some tea,” You offered, as you had become more familiar with the conductor’s frequent stress migraines.

Agatha merely nodded and began sorting through her scores for rehearsal and you set off to brew some tea in the kitchen. You brushed off her strange behavior as the anger that came with seeing Wanda Maximoff.

The rest of the afternoon passed by smoothly. Agatha eventually told you to go home for a few hours despite your protests to stay. She was still a tad bit grumpy from her run in with Wanda, so she all but shoved you out the door and said if she saw you back here before 6:00 that she would make sure it would be your last time attending rehearsal.

Finding yourself back at the concert hall an hour before rehearsal started, you made your way to Agatha’s office and used the key she had given you to let yourself in. You had to grab the boxes filled with folders of music, as well as Agatha’s scores and her favorite baton. Your eyes scanned the dozens of identical batons that the older woman had before you found the one she requested you grab.

There weren’t many personal items in Agatha’s office. Granted she had only been here for around a month, but still. It was basically bare, save for a few photos of her pet bunny, Señor Scratchy. You had often wondered what the conductor did when she wasn’t here, but you had never felt comfortable enough to ask. Agatha was...private, and while you respected her privacy a part of you wondered what she was like when she wasn’t in scary conductor mode.

A quick glance at the clock alerted you to head to the hall before the players started to arrive. You quickly locked up the office before hurrying through the building, arms filled with boxes.

“I should’ve brought these in before I left,” You mumbled out loud as you balanced the boxes in one hand to unlock the stage door with your other hand.

“Well yes dear, but that would’ve required thought,” Agatha said with a smirk as she came up from behind you.

You cursed and jumped, glaring at the woman who scared you half to death. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Agatha held the door open for you and shrugged in response as you passed her. “It’s not my fault you’re so easy to scare.”

“You’re evil,” You told her, but your tone was teasing. “And you’re early.”

“It’s my first rehearsal, I want to be prepared,” Agatha explained but you knew her well enough to know what that meant.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” You said reassuringly as she grabbed one of the boxes from you to set on the stage.

Agatha scowled and gave you a dirty look. “I am not nervous. I’m Agatha Harkness. I don’t get nervous.”

“Right and you’re also nothing like Wanda Maximoff, right?” You fired back, enjoying the glower she gave you.

Agatha huffed. “I liked it better when you were afraid of me.”

You laughed as you began placing the folders on their respective stands. “I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of disappointing you.” And you were still afraid of disappointing her, but you would never vocalize that.

Agatha gave you a look you couldn’t decipher before she helped you with the folders. “Where’s your violin?”

“In your office,” You reminded her. “Remember, I told you I was leaving it there until after rehearsal?”

“Well how are you going to play in,” She checked her watch, “Fourty-five minutes without an instrument?”

You stared at her in shock. “But...but I thought I didn’t get the first violin spot?”

“You didn’t,” Agatha admitted. “But I haven’t hired anyone else and I still need to update our sub list. So there will be an empty chair for rehearsal.”

“Which means?” You pressed, needing to hear the words from her.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Needy as ever for the praise I see. Grab your instrument and get your ass on stage in ten minutes before I change my mind.”

You practically skipped off stage, not believing what you were hearing. You were going to perform with the Manhattan Symphony! Sure it was just a rehearsal, and the first rehearsal at that, but you didn’t care. You were on cloud nine and nothing could bring you down.

By the time you returned with your instrument, some of the players had started to arrive. You recognized a few of the violinists from different gigs you had played over the past couple of years. Scanning the stage, you spotted Agatha in one of the first rows in the audience, drinking a bottle of water. She noticed you staring and motioned for you to come join her.

You set your case down next to her bag. “Thank you for letting me play in rehearsal today.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Agatha questioned, looking at you with curiosity. “I need a violinist for today’s rehearsal. You’re my assistant who will do whatever you can to please me. It’s common sense.”

You rolled your eyes at her but smiled nonetheless. “You really can’t let me be nice, can you?”

Agatha laughed and patted you on the arm. “You’re finally catching on, dear. Now get on stage and warm up. I can’t have my assistant embarrassing me in front of the entire ensemble.”

You did as you were told and sat in the last chair of the first violin section. The other members of the ensemble gradually made their way to their respective seats to begin warming up, and Agatha stayed at her spot still drinking her water. Your stand partner eventually made their way over to you and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Monica,” the woman said politely as she sat in the chair next to yours.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you replied with a small smile. “Have you been with the symphony for a while?”

“This is my fifth season,” Monica replied with a shrug. “Should be a little more interesting with Harkness in charge at least.”

You vaguely remembered the rumors that the last music director had been voted off by the board due to his age, but you couldn’t remember his name.

“Yeah, she’s really great,” You said happily. Monica gave you a curious glance. “I’m actually her assistant.”

Monica raised her eyebrows at that revelation. “Oh, wow. What’s that like?”

You shrugged, and noted that was the second time someone had that reaction. “Pretty standard I guess.”

“I was wondering who she hired for the section after cancelling the blind auditions,” Monica admitted. “She gave those violinists quite a scare.”

“Well I’m not hired for this,” You quickly backtracked. “She just hadn’t filled the seat and she needed a sub for today so-“

Monica laughed. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. It’s nice to have you here. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

A few minutes later, the chatter and warming up abruptly stopped when Agatha took the podium. The ensemble stared at their new conductor, curious as to how she would start their first rehearsal. Instead, Agatha raised her baton and the ensemble lifted their instruments in preparation.

“Movement four of Dvorak,” Agatha said and allowed everyone a moment to flip to the respective movement.

She raised her baton again and you felt a rush of adrenaline as you waited in anticipation for her to begin. Over the past few weeks you had studied Agatha’s conducting technique. Watching her move her hands in formation was so beautiful, she was easily the most skilled conductor you had ever observed. Her eyes raked over the ensemble and landed on yours, and with a smirk she gave the upbeat to begin.

Dvorak’s New World Symphony was one of the first full symphonies you remembered playing back in your high school youth symphony. It was breathtaking, full of colorful phrases and swirling melodies in every movement that left both the player and listener eager for more. The fourth movement seemed to tie it all together.

Despite it being the first rehearsal, the ensemble played relatively well. Agatha was mindlessly conducting, her gaze fixated on different ensemble members, and you knew she probably had so many quick witted insults stewing in her brain. You meanwhile couldn’t keep your eyes from watching her conduct. Sure, watching old videos of her conducting different orchestras was great, your personal favorite was of her performance conducting Tchaikovsky’s 4th Symphony with The Chicago Symphony. You also loved sitting in her office and watching her get lost in her scores, seemingly oblivious to your gaze locked on her baton and the way her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

But this...this was pure beauty. It was like she was painting a canvas using her baton as a paint brush. Even with her gaze focused elsewhere, she knew the score backwards and forwards and you saw her give every cue without even taking a second to glance down at the music. It was magical; she was magical.

The movement progressed and you had reached one of you favorite spots. There was a phrase transition that featured a slow and melodic theme that was passed throughout the orchestra. It started in the winds and you smiled at the serene sounds of the oboe that featured accompaniment from the strings before the melody was eventually passed to the violin section. While most violinists enjoyed playing fast and thrilling passages that left their fingers aching and bow arm sore, you had always secretly preferred the sweeter themes, the soaring melodies that kept growing and filled your heart with so much warmth.

Closing your eyes to play a passage you had long ago memorized, Dvorak had always been a favorite, you took a second to enjoy the unique feeling that every musician shared. Making music was an intimate experience. The ability to bring together dozens of people from different walks of life. To put aside any problems from everyday life and just take those brief moments to focus on nothing but their craft. Your happiest memories were of the time you spent in orchestra rehearsals. All of the hard, and sometimes grueling, work that went into perfecting each measure and making sure each section played as one giant instrument. All of it was worth it once you made it to the performance, and you swore there was nothing that could bring you more bliss than a live performance.

The movement progressed and Agatha was fully in her element. The woman was the most confident conductor you had ever encountered. Sure, she was a bit...cocky...but she had every right to be. This was the only first rehearsal you had ever attended where the conductor had effortlessly led the ensemble through tempo changes and cues without any faults.

With a whirlwind of fast passages and high notes that had you breathless, you reached the grand finale. You would occasionally glance up to check you were following Agatha’s tempo, and it took everything in you to not keep your gaze entirely fixated on her.

Agatha left her baton raised for a moment before finally lowering it, and you could tell by the passive look on her face that she was not pleased. “Well that was disappointing. Have any of you played in an ensemble before today?”

Directing her gaze to the principal flutist, she waved her hand. “And don’t even get me started on the mess over here. Are you trying to make my ears bleed? I’ve heard first graders who have a better tone than you.”

The principal flutist frowned. “With all due respect Maestra, it’s our first rehearsal and we’re a little rusty.”

“Did I ask for excuses?” Agatha questioned, and you knew the rest of rehearsal would only be downhill from there. If there was one thing Agatha Harkness hated it was excuses. “What’s your name?”

“Dottie Jones.”

“Well, Dottie,” Agatha sneered. “Since you apparently know more than I do, why don’t you come up here and conduct?”

Well shit. You didn’t see that coming. You glanced over to Monica and found she had the same shocked expression on her face as you did.

“Maestra I don’t-“ Dottie tried to argue, and you couldn’t help but feel a small amount of pity for the woman because you knew Agatha always got what she wanted.

“Now!” Agatha yelled and threw her baton on the stand. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Is she always like this?” Monica whispered to you and you shrugged.

That was a good question. In the few weeks you worked for Agatha, you had grown used to her intense presence and ever changing mood swings. You would never admit it to her face, but you actually found it kind of charming in a weird and twisted sort of way, because you knew Agatha only acted this way to assert her dominance. The music world had predominantly been led by men. The vast majority of the most famous and beloved composers were men. For the majority of your playing career the conductors you encountered were men. Hell, even the majority of symphony orchestras had male concert masters.

“She likes to keep things interesting,” You whispered back while keeping your gaze locked on the scene occurring on the podium.

Dottie had reluctantly made her way through the ensemble to stand on the podium where Agatha stood to the side with her arms folded across her chest.

“Any day now, Dottie,” Agatha mocked and you grimaced. Not even a half hour in and she had already lost her temper.

To Dottie’s credit she appeared relatively calm as she picked up the baton Agatha threw on the stand. The orchestra readied themselves to begin, but you kept your gaze locked on Agatha. What was she playing at?

Dottie gave the upbeat and the opening notes of Dvorak rang out. The flutist was a decent conductor, but you knew it was a losing battle. Her technique was nowhere as refined as Agatha’s and you could tell she was trying her best to keep the ensemble from falling apart. You made it through ten bars before Agatha made her way to the podium and raised one hand, and everyone immediately stopped.

“Well Dottie what do you think?”

“I think I should go back to my seat and leave the conducting to you,” Dottie offered weakly.

Agatha arched an eyebrow. “Ah. I see.” She waited for Dottie to sit back down before continuing. “Some of you may find my methods crazy. Some of you may say that I’m too mean, that I’m pushing you too hard. However, there is a reason for all of this.”

She pointed her baton at the principal oboe. “You? What’s your name?”

“Oh, um...” The man stammered and Agatha rolled her eyes.

“Name!”

“Jimmy Woo.”

“Jimmy Woo,” Agatha repeated with a frown on her face. “How long have you been with the symphony?”

“This is my third season, Maestra,” Jimmy said with a smile.

Agatha nodded. “I need to hear more of you. We need to work on your projection to come over the strings without making it too nasally. Not bad for the first rehearsal, Woo.”

“Thank you, Maestra.”

“Now Woo, how would you say the past three seasons have gone?” Agatha prompted.

“Maestra?” Jimmy asked, appearing confused by the question.

Agatha let out a huff. “How have you felt the orchestra has performed for the past three seasons, Woo?”

“You want my honest opinion, Maestra?”

You watched Agatha tense up and you internally sighed. Another thing Agatha hated was pointless questions.

“No, Woo, I want you to change into a tutu and do pliés,” Agatha dryly commented.

Jimmy let out a bit of nervous laughter which quickly ended when Agatha glared at him. “Right. Well, I guess I feel like we’re losing our touch.”

“That’s putting it lightly. Thank you, Woo,” Agatha said before turning her attention to the rest of the ensemble. “The Manhattan Symphony was once the world’s finest orchestra. But all of you have gotten too comfortable. You’ve stopped making music and now are simply playing notes on a page. You’ve gotten lazy.”

There we go. The third thing Agatha hated. Laziness. You swore the woman was constantly on the move. There was one Friday afternoon where you had suggested taking a half day to enjoy the sunshine, which led Agatha to go on a twenty minute long rant (you timed it) that you could enjoy the sunshine when you were dead in a grave. Needless to say, you never asked to leave work early again.

You watched the conductor place her baton on the stand and wave her arms around. “I want this orchestra to regain its rightful place on top of the musical community. But this is going to require work from every single individual in this room. So, this is your first and only warning. If you are not going to put your entire soul into this orchestra, consider this your last rehearsal. Everyone is replaceable and I promise you will not be missed.”

You raised your bow to signal you had a question. Agatha’s head whipped around to look at you, and you could practically see the gears turning in her head. “Something you wish to add?”

“And if we stay?” You asked, thinking back to the very same question you asked her the day of the audition.

That earned you a smile so small it was almost impossible to see, and it went away as quickly as it appeared. “If you choose to stay, I am going to work you hard. I don’t want to hear any whining or complaints, only promises to do better. Are we clear?”

Silence from the room was taken as a yes. Agatha raised her baton. “Good. Flip to measure 21. Woo I want to work on your entrance. First violins, I know you love being the center of attention but you need to follow the dynamics on the page, circle them if you must. Flutes please try to not to fuck up your eighth notes otherwise I will make sure the only orchestra you play for is in the middle of Antartica.”

The rest of rehearsal went better than it started. Agatha was her usual slightly snarky self, and the rest of the ensemble was learning not to question her. You went to pack up your instrument when Monica motioned for you to come join her.

“I’m not sure if you have any plans but a few of us are going to get drinks if you want to join,” Monica offered and you were touched by her kindness.

“That’s so sweet but I’m actually pretty tired,” You said apologetically. Which was partially true, but you also wanted to make sure Agatha went home and didn’t stay cooped up in her office all night.

“Well if you change your mind, shoot me a text,” Monica insisted as she handed you her phone to put in your contact information. She took the phone back and sent you a message. “There’s my number.”

You thanked her again before heading over to where Agatha was silently stewing. A quick glance at her confirmed that she was still in a bad mood and you chose to silently pack up your instrument while shooting her quick and cautious glances.

“I can feel you staring,” Agatha finally looked up at you. “I want to redo the string parts for Maximoff’s piece. We need to fix a few of the bowings. I want everything to be set for our first rehearsal with her.” She noticed your hesitation. “Unless you have other plans.”

“Oh no, my dream Friday night is being holed up in your office marking Rachmaninoff,” You joked and grinned when she rolled her eyes.

“Funny, dear. Very funny,” Agatha deadpanned, motioning for you to follow her. “But I don’t pay you to make jokes.”

An hour later you were done with the bowings while Agatha had spent the time reading a book. She had a pair of glasses on and her feet were up on her desk, it was the most relaxed you had ever seen her.

“You’re finished?” Agatha asked, not looking up from her book. “Good,” she said and slammed the book closed. “Now, we didn’t get a chance to do this earlier due to my Maximoff induced migraine, so grab that violin and come with me. I want to see how relaxed your bow hold is after rehearsing.”

“Actually, I was going to suggest that we call it a night?” You asked tentatively, gauging her reaction. “You’ve had a long day and-“

“And what? I’m so old I need to be in bed before ten?” Agatha inquired, slowly taking off her glasses.

“You’re not old,” You blurted out and Agatha smirked at you. Blushing, you looked at the floor. “But maybe it would do you good to get some rest?”

“Trying to give me orders again, darling?” Agatha teased and even though you weren’t looking at her, you knew she was still smirking. “I’m not so sure I like that.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that,” You mumbled whilst Agatha laughed.

“Whatever you say, dear,” Agatha said. “If it will get you to shut up, I’ll call it a night and go home. But I expect you back here tomorrow morning so we can make up our session. We’re finally starting to crack the surface of your true potential and I won’t have you wasting it because you need to sleep.”

You had waited for Agatha to pack up her bag and followed her out of the building. This was the first time you had left at the same time as the older woman. She usually sent you on your way long before she was ready to head out for the evening. She had her town car waiting for her out front, and she frowned as she watched you prepare to walk home.

“You’re not planning on walking alone at this hour are you?” Agatha questioned and looked at you like you were an idiot.

You shrugged. “I only live a few blocks away.” Which was a bit of a lie, but she didn’t have to know that. “And if anyone gives me a hard time I can just whack them with this.” You motioned to your hard case violin.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’ll allow you to wander the streets like a lost little puppy,” Agatha reprimanded you. “Get in the car.”

“I’m not getting in your car,” You argued. “I’ll be fine.”

“Darling I’m not going to tell you again. Get in the car,” Agatha repeated and then smirked. “Unless you’d rather I drag you kicking and screaming.”

You glared at her. Damn her for making everything sound so...suggestive. “Fine.”

“Good girl,” Agatha said as you followed her in the car, and she patted the seat next to hers. “Now where do you live?”

You gave her driver the instructions to your apartment and then made yourself comfortable in the car. There was a few minutes of awkward silence which you spent staring out the window, and Agatha spent staring at you.

“Ya know, you usually call me out for staring at you,” You finally spoke up, the silence starting to eat away at you.

“I am not staring at you,” Agatha lightly argued before changing the subject. “I never asked how you thought I did tonight.”

“What?”

Agatha frowned at you. “How do you think I led the rehearsal?”

That was new. Over the past few weeks Agatha had never asked you for your opinion on anything regarding her conducting, because why would she? Agatha was the most confident person you had ever met, and a part of you was envious at how she presented herself to the world.

You took a moment to glance over at her and found yourself staring into bright blue eyes. “I...I thought you were brilliant. But, you were a little too nice. I don’t think I saw anyone cry.”

Agatha’s expression lightened and you felt your heartbeat grow rapid at the sight of her smile. “Still making jokes, darling? Perhaps I’m going too easy on you.”

The rest of the car ride fell back into a more comfortable silence, and before long Agatha’s driver pulled up to your modest but nice apartment building.

You grabbed your violin case and offered Agatha a small smile. “Thank you for giving me a ride home.”

“Thank Hank, he did the driving.”

“Right,” You frowned. “Well, goodnight.”

Agatha briefly touched your arm as you went to exit the car, and you felt goosebumps at the sensation. “Goodnight, dear. I’ll see you in the morning.”