#while i try to regain muse!

[mad-hunts]

tw: cannibalism, (slightly) graphic depictions of violence and HEAVY elements of horror will be ahead, so i'm going to put this under a 'read-more' if you'd rather skip out on this one.

so they looked around for a bit, and that's when they found it. this blood trail going down the floor of the hallway, which was already kind of scary, though it was nothing compared to the sound of someone's ringtone suddenly resounding from one of the rooms in the back (think one of those love songs with sort of creepy vibes to them like ' unchained melody. ') so, once your muse gathered enough courage, they decided to proceed down it even though something inside of them was screaming that something seemed wrong. and it seemed like they were right because once they reached the back, they found a dead body just... pressed up against the wall with blood spattered behind them. and there were other spots of the wall spattered with blood as well.

i feel like, for a character that's supposed to be pretty horror-oriented, that this account has been kind of lacking in content related to that lately, SO imagine this scenario, y'all. your muse is friends with or just cares about barton in some way. and thus, whenever they find out that he's attracted the ire of someone dangerous + that he's been missing for WEEKS, they assume the worst and try to find out his location. which leads them to this already creepy, dilapidated, and abandoned mortuary. and they honestly didn't know what they were expecting once they entered it, but it certainly wasn't this deafening silence, and there seeming to be... no one around?

so, you try to circle around to find out what the hell is going on, but then you see the thing that barton is hunched over is a body and a third one on the autopsy table in the room. and your muse can't help but blanche + feel like they've just stumbled into the lions den, because barton is not only SO beat up, but he's eating the person below him. and it's absolutely horrific because whenever they gasp at the sight is when barton finally looks up at them.

it was ALL over this corpses' face, though, as it appeared like they died from some sort of brutal blunt force trauma. but there's also another blood trail that is smeared across the floor up and under one of the doors in the back, which they are REALLY questioning whether they want to open now. they choose to do so with their eyes closed after remembering that barton would do the same for them (and by that, i mean he would want to save them JSJSJ), and all they can see when they open them is the back of barton hunched over something, or someone as you discover while getting closer to him. and it's like he is either ignoring you or hasn't heard you enter the room because he's still focused on whatever he was doing.

and there is just NOTHING behind those eyes even though he's got a copious amount of blood dripping down from his lips and dripping down his chin + neck. like JSJSJ i don't know about you guys, but i would be sooo scared because not only is this NOT normal behavior for him at all, it's god damn terrifying to see someone cannibalize you someone else. and so if he were real, along with me being in this situation, i probably wouldn't talk to him for a while because i wouldn't even know where to begin AHHH

[finalgirllx]

Mattheo's Nurse

my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'

1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied

Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.

Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.

As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.

"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.

In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.

"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.

"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.

Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.

"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.

Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.

"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.

"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.

"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.

You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"

"A kiss."

You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.

The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.

"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.

You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.

For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.

You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.

Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.

"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."

"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."

[yan-randomfandom]

hi!!! omg i just discovered your blog and i’m in LOVE! could i request yandere stanford pines (platonic or romantic or some other type is up to you) with a reader who is a reincarnated euclidean/flatworlder/dream demon? (i don’t know if you’re familiar with same coin theory, but that’s my inspiration!) preferably with no/limited memories of their past life? i imagine ford would be pretty suspicious at first because of his experiences with bill, maybe even try to kill them… but who knows if those feelings will change… that, or maybe he would get obsessed with them as a replacement muse… lots of possibilities! feel free to change/add anything to the concept, or if it doesn’t interest you, i’d appreciate any yandere ford in general! thank you!!!

Yandere!Stanford Pines x Godling!Reader

this took me a while, but i finally got around to writing it! thank you for your kind words, anon! this one contains continuous stories— because this is so long, feel free to point out any mistakes

🌑

You have been summoned.

Even from your deep slumber, the presence of other ghastly beings roaming around the dimension was painfully obvious to you. How curious; they don't seem to belong here.

"You. You grant wishes right? No deals?"

The one who summoned you flinched when you made eye contact. With their chin lifted, they tried to seem intimidating, yet the tremble of their lips and the quaking of their legs gave them away.

"Indeed, but," you replied, smiling to the best of your ability. You hovered around them, critically observing their physical body, and, by extension, their soul.

They are nothing short of terrified. But intriguingly, their fear does not mainly stem from your presence.

"Pray tell," you mused, twirling their hair with your fingers, "what happened here, dear human? I've been asleep for some time, so I request a small favor: answer my question."

Because if you had to be honest, you have no fucking idea what's happening right now. The longer you stay awake, the more you realize that you have no memory of your past.

"Bill Cipher happened. This is the Weirdmaggedon," they answered, their body shaking more intensely. You paused. "I don't know what he wants. Please, all I ask is for you to transfer me and my family somewhere safe. The ones I care about have turned to stone. We just want to be happy. Please."

A giggle escaped you. "A noble wish. Very well, I shall send you and your family to the nearest safe place."

You placed your hand on the top of their head, and they vanished out of thin air.

Humming a tune, you made your way out of the cave where you had been trapped and finally saw the world outside.

...

Swirling colors and chaotic phenomena surrounded you. What a monstrosity. Someone else has taken over this area—Bill Cipher, was it?

Turning your head, you saw an enormous bubble wrapped in chains. A grin stretched across your face.

So that’s where you sent your summoner.

🌒

Weirdmaggedon is officially over.

Stanford knew that. Bill is gone. His brother is slowly but surely regaining his memories back. Everything was going to be... normal again.

As normal as it can be anyway. A sigh left Ford when he rolled over to his side, staring at practically nothing. The room is pitch black.

He closed his eyes.

...

It's bright. With a gasp, his eyes snapped open.

A familiar field. The gentle breeze doesn't calm him down in the slightest. He's back here. Again. Why? Did Bill somehow escape? Is he out for revenge? That stupid dream demon—!!

"Gree—"

Ford shouted, immediately swinging his fist at you. You dodged swiftly in time.

"—tings! Woah!" you huffed, taking extra care to ensure he didn’t land a finger on you. "Is this how you usually greet a higher being, Stanford Pines?"

The human’s heart races uncontrollably. This can’t be happening. "Bill, what twisted form have you taken now? Didn’t we destroy you already?!"

You blinked, then laughed. "I'm not Bill, silly! He's long gone, I'm pretty sure. How should I know?"

Not Bill? What kind of nonsense are you spewing out? Stanford's expression darkened. This might be a dream, but he really didn’t want to deal with you—especially not after everything that had just happened.

You immediately noticed his demeanor.

"...Oh. I'm sorry," you muttered, getting close enough to meet his eyes. They widened at your words. "I didn't mean to laugh at your misery. I've just been so confused lately."

"What?" was all Ford could manage to say.

"I heard all about you," you said carefully, making gestures with your hands. "Human with six fingers. The man who freed Bill Cipher. Who has traveled across dimensions."

"Who told you...?"

You smiled. "I asked many—don't worry about that part. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about myself. You seem to know a lot, Pines."

Ford woke up.

Was that just a dream? Were you even real? Bill is long gone, dead. Isn't he? He won't find the answers to his questions until he falls asleep again.

🌓

Ford doesn't do anything about you until he's sure of himself. You were definitely just a figment of his imagination, right? A dream.

That’s exactly why he couldn’t believe it when you showed up again. A stupid, curious expression on your face.

And this time, Ford took it upon himself to try and kill you.

"Urk! Don’t do this! I understand you're traumatized, but I really am just trying to find my home!" you stammered, flying and dodging every attack he threw your way.

This is weird. You’re saying things Bill would never say. Is he really trying the opposite approach just to manipulate Ford again?

A massive blast from a cannon struck you.

To both of your surprise, the attack did absolutely nothing to damage you.

"I'm alive!" you exclaimed with glee, up in the air, comically rotating from the impact. "Done yet, Pines? I simply want to talk, you know!"

... Of course. Both of you are untouchable in the dreamscape. While you can imagine anything within both the mind and the dream, a being like Bill isn't stupid enough to enter with his actual body. Guess it worked the same way for you, too. It was still worth a shot.

Ford woke up.

🌔

"Finally ready?"

You tittered at him up from above. Ford narrowed his eyes at you.

"What do you want?" he deadpanned. "You're not here to make a deal, are you?"

"Deals are not my forte," you said, showing him a negative gesture. "I do wishes. But if I have to admit, I wouldn't wish something from me either."

"So you trick people," he replied, gritting his teeth. "Why do you feel the need to do that? What benefits do you gain?"

You glanced at the side before looking back at him, shrugging. "I don't remember."

"Is that so? How many wishes?"

"One."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Bill—"

"I am not Bill," for the first time since you've met him, your voice finally sounded firm. "As far as we both know, he is gone."

"... What is your name, then?"

"I don't remember."

🌕

A frustrated huff left Ford as he rubbed between his eyebrows. You giggled, pushing your hand through his hair. It's soft.

"You're not being helpful at all," he said.

"Apologies," you replied, looking sheepish. "It's hard to answer your questions if I know nothing."

"There must be something you know," the man insisted, stepping away from your touch. He doesn't like how gentle it was.

You hummed, crossing your arms as you floated away. "Do you know how Bill looks like? Am I of similar physique, perhaps?"

Ford paused as his eyes glanced up and down at your form. You can't help but feel uneasy under his tenseful gaze.

"You don't know what Bill looks like?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

This man sure is suspicious of you. Not that you blame him. "No. I believe I never met him."

"You believe?" he scoffed. "I hope you know it's hard to trust you."

"Well," you drawled, "would it convince you if I said you can wish for my memory to come back?"

His eyes widened.

You chuckled. Maybe this is too shocking for him. Take it slow, you thought.

"Before anything else, though, how about we enjoy a nice cup of dream tea?"

🌔

You stared at the chess board in between you and Ford, confusion filling your face. "Wait, how does the knight move again?"

"Think of this shape," Ford explained, forming a black marker with his thoughts and drawing the letter 'L' in mid-air. "The knight moves to the end of this point. Just try to visualize it on the board."

"Oh, I think I understand," you muttered, choosing to move your knight in the corner of the board.

Ford grinned. He placed his queen right next to your king. "Checkmate."

"What?!" you gasped, your eyes rambling around the whole chest board. "I mistook my king for the queen! I say rematch!"

A hearty laugh escaped Ford's lips. If this was in the physical world, he's sure that his cheeks would start hurting from smiling so much.

He still wasn’t sure if you were dangerous or not. Really, he should know better than to mess with otherworldly beings.

But maybe this time, you're different. Because, as far as he knows, you're currently powerless.

🌓

"Pines," you said as Ford roamed his hands across your body. He said this was his way of observing how different you were from Bill. "Aren’t you going to use your wish to help me regain my memory? Or do you want to use it for something else?"

He rubbed his thumb over the side of your body shape. Interesting. You're just as two-dimensional as Bill is. "I only have one chance of using my wish, don't I?"

"Indeed," you murmured, shifting slightly under his touch. "I won't stop you if you use it for yourself, but I'll have to find someone else who might use the wish for me."

Ford halted all his movements.

"What?"

You drifted away from his fingers. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

"I said I'll find another to grant my wish for me," you explained. "Anyway, how was your assessment? Am I anything like Bill?"

Ford continued to stare at you, looking as if he were lost in thought.

...

"Pines?"

"Sorry," he coughed, "But, yes, you're quite similar to Bill."

You beamed, floating over to him and ruffling his hair. "Another step closer to figuring out who I am! Thank you, Pines!"

Ford woke up.

He stared at the dark ceiling. The sun has barely risen.

You had no memories. If he helped you get them back, would you be indebted to him? Or would you turn out like Bill, who wanted to rule the world?

Ford can't let you meet up with another human.

There's only one way out of this.

🌒

"You're ready to use your wish?" you gasped, placing your hands on his shoulders. "That's excellent news! However—"

"Question. Do you have limits in your wishes?" Ford asked deliberately, careful with his every word.

You hesitated before replying. "I suppose not."

His large hands held yours over his shoulders. You glanced at his six fingers before meeting his gaze again.

"Then I wish to be your master."

You felt your soul fall to the deepest depths of the dreamscape.

"You'll do anything I ask for. Be under my will. There is no turning back, dream demon."

🌑

[icyminghao]

workplace crush

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, workplace!au warning(s): brief mentions of food word count: 1k

summary: jeon wonwoo, also known as the company’s “IT Department Crush”, doesn’t seem to faze you in the slightest, much to your best friend’s dismay.

a/n: meant to be the couple from here, but can also be read as a standalone

“Oh my god! There he is again, look!” Minhee, your childhood best friend and current colleague at work, exclaims suddenly, tapping your arm with a newfound fervor.

“Who?” you deadpan, poking at your lunch with your fork.

“It’s Jeon Wonwoo! Sejeong really wasn’t kidding when she said he was the IT Department’s eye-candy,”

The name raises an eyebrow, but you’re quick to shake it off and regain control of your poker face.

“Jeon Wonwoo, huh? He looks okay,” you reply without turning to look at the subject of the conversation.

“Just okay? Come on, y/n! Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t admit that Mr. White Button-down over there is hot as shit,” Minhee scoffs in amusement as she urges you to sneak a glance at the man of the hour. Deciding to appease your friend, you turn around to do just that and find the acclaimed Jeon Wonwoo sitting at a nearby table with a few other people, presumably his colleagues. He’s dressed in a white button-down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of navy-blue jeans, and to top it all off, he’s sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses you’ve never seen anyone pull off better than him.

“My boyfriend’s hotter,” you shrug, going back to eating your food. Minhee purses her lips in thought at the response.

“Is he? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him,” she muses.

“You haven’t? No way,” you respond immediately, quick to wave off Minhee’s observation.

“What do you mean, ‘no way’? You haven’t introduced your boyfriend to any of us! I’ve been dying to see who exactly met your sky-high standards,” Minhee whines, much to your amusement.

“You’d be surprised,” you chuckle and look up to see that Minhee’s attention has been diverted to something (or someone) behind you.

“Pause. Don’t look, but Mr. IT Department Crush is coming our way right now,” Minhee’s voice drops an octave as she whispers through gritted teeth, eyes widened in warning. You suppress an amused smile at her behaviour and watch as a certain Jeon Wonwoo takes a seat beside you. All the while, Minhee looks on the situation with a wide-open mouth as you try your hardest to hold in your laughter.

“Hey, y/n,” Wonwoo greets you as he settles down, then turns to nod at Minhee, who nods back in equal parts confusion and awe, “Jeonghan was wondering whether you wanted to join us for karaoke night later?”

“Sorry, Wonwoo, but I have plans with Minhee tonight. Maybe next time?” you frown apologetically at having to reject Wonwoo’s proposal, but he simply nods in response, flashing you the smallest of smiles in return.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you later?” he hums in response before nodding once again at Minhee in greeting and leaving, presumably to return to his colleagues at the IT Department.

Silence ensues as you and Minhee blink at each other for a solid minute or so, before Minhee lets out a huge breath and breaks the silence.

“Did you just… have a whole conversation with the IT Department Crush? You never told me you knew him!” Minhee whisper-shouts, slapping your arm lightly for dramatic effect. You rub your arm and feign an injury, to which Minhee simply pouts at you in response.

“You never asked!” you reason.

“No wonder you didn’t bat an eye when I talked about him!” Minhee huffs, crossing her arms as she squints at you. You shrug, bursting into laughter at Minhee’s behaviour.

“Whatever. My girlfriend’s hotter, anyway.”

“y/n…” Minhee suddenly drawls halfway through your meal with her, and you hum in amusement.

“Earlier, what did IT Department Crush mean by ‘see you later’? You’ve been with me the whole time since lunch break and we’re off work now,” Minhee furrows her eyebrows in thought, and you tilt your head in confusion, trying to recall the interaction.

“He did? Must have been a slip of the tongue,” you shrug nonchalantly, and Minhee leans forward, putting on a look that you know she always puts on whenever she’s about to analyse something (or someone).

“The two of you seem close,” she muses, clearly suspicious, much to your amusement.

“You could say that,” you hum, pursing your lips together. Minhee purses her lips together in thought before shrugging in response.

“Eh. Anyway, did you see the boss’s new outfit today? I’m dying to know where she got it from,” your best friend is quick to change the topic, and the subject of a certain eye-candy of the IT Department is quickly forgotten for the rest of the dinner with Minhee.

“How are you going home tonight? We could give you a ride, my girlfriend’s coming soon.” Minhee asks after the both of you had stepped out of the restaurant, greeted by the glittering moonlight shining down on the streets bustling with nightlife.

“Oh, it’s okay, my boyfriend’s coming over,” you politely reject Minhee’s offer just as a white sedan pulls up in front of you. Minhee sighs.

“There goes my chance of meeting your mystery of a boyfriend,” Minhee fake-whines, “I’ll see you next week, okay? Let us see him soon!”

“Yeah, yeah, I will!” you chuckle, waving Minhee and her girlfriend goodbye as they drive off, leaving you alone on the street.

Shortly after, you hear the familiar roar of an engine, and your boyfriend pulls up in his navy blue coupe, rolling down the passenger window to send you a greeting smile.

“Hey, darling,” you greet as you enter his car, settling down before looking at him in entirety. He’s still wearing the same white button-down from earlier, but his hair looks a bit tousled as compared to how neat it was just this morning. You reach forward and ruffle his locks just because.

“How was today?” Wonwoo grins at the touch, giving you a small peck on the cheek before driving again.

“Well, I heard from Minhee that you’ve garnered quite the reputation in the company,” you decide to tease him.

“I have?” Wonwoo replies, confused.

“They call you the IT Department Crush,” you explain, watching him closely for a reaction.

“I guess that’s pretty accurate, considering you had a crush on me,” Wonwoo chuckles, reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh affectionately.

“You had a crush on me first! Must I remind you how Soonyoung-”

“Okay, baby, you win,” Wonwoo concedes, “I had a crush on you first.”

“It’s okay, darling,” you giggle, “We had a crush on each other.”

Wonwoo groans. “You’re lame.”

a/n 2: 230926 jeon wonwoo you will be the death of me (also this was pretty bad i’m sorry lol)

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli

masterlist

[mncxbe]

# . ݁₊ ⊹ riding Denji in the bathtub while Aki's at home ݁˖ . ݁⭑𝒄𝒘: light nipple play, creampie, established relationship

I keep thinking about being in a secret relationship with Denji and sneaking around so that your roommates don't figure out you two are a thing. it's not an easy task especially since Power is nosy and Aki is observant, but you make it work, which sometimes means that you end up riding Denji in the bathtub.

with your hand clamped over his mouth to prevent any noises from slipping, you grind your hips against Denji's. the feeling of his tip pressed snuggly against your sweet spot and the hot vapors in the small bathroom the made you feel dizzy. "shit– Denji keep it down baby" you huffed out when he whined, his grip on your hips growing impossibly tight as he struggled to keep quiet. " 'm sorry" he mumbled into your palm, pretty brown eyes rolling in the back of his skull from the sheer pleasure he experienced.

and god he looked so pretty with his hair still damp from the bath he took, the muscles of his arms flexing as he aided your movements, bouncing you on his cock. the occasional mewls and moans he let out were music to your ears and you removed your hand from his mouth, leaning down to kiss him. Denji moaned into your mouth, a hand ghosting over your side before he cupped your tit, rolling your nipple between two fingers. the sensation made you clench around his dick, your back arching and thighs squeezing his sides.

"ya like it?" he mused, his blush deepening when he noticed the fucked out expression on your face. you looked prettiest like this and he swore he could cum just by looking at you. still, he leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, breathing in the hot air. the bathroom smelt like soap and sex– fuck, how were you two going to hide this from Aki when he came to brush his teeth in the morning?

just then, a loud knock on the door made your movements halt. Aki's sleepy voice sounded from the hallway. "Denji can you hurry up? you've been in there for an hour what on earth are you doing?"

"oh shit–" huffed your boyfriend, trying to push you off him "we're screwed if he catches us. pressing your hand back over Denji's mouth to shut him up, you sunk down on his length– you'd be damned if you were going to let Aki ruin your orgasm. Denji's eyes shot open in surprise at you actions, a weak moan spilling from his lips.

"it's me in here, Aki. i think Denji went back to his room" you spoke in a surprisingly level tone as you bounced on your boyfriend's cock. you could only hope that your roommate wouldn't hear the squelching sounds your pussy made around Denji. "oh i see, sorry y/n i didn't mean to interrupt. i just needed to use the toilet"

"okay, i'll let you know when i'm out" you huffed out, biting down on your lip as the blond's hands gripped your ass, his fingers sinking in the fat there. he picked up the pace, basically moving you up and down his length, making you writhe in pleasure. your tits bounced with every thrust, his dick abusing your sweet spot made your eyes roll back, warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

you were so close, barely able to form a coherent thought and being forced to keep quiet was making the whole thing so much hotter. drool seeped from the corner of your mouth as your pussy sapasmed around Denji's dick, milking the orgasm out of him. "oh shit, shit i'm cumming too" moaned the blond, his nails digging in your hips, almost drawing blood as he shot his warm seed inside you. you grabbed the sides of the tub, steadying yourself while you rode out your high.

once you managed to regain your composure you slumped against him, heaving. your breaths mingled as you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, earning a giggle from from the blond. "now that was fun" he smiled, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear. "god, i love ya so much baby i swear one day i'll–"

"you two are sooo royally screwed" sounded a voice from the other side of the door.

shit, Aki. you'd completely forgotten about him.

[melodic-haze]

h-hey 👯‍♀️😕😜🎀

Since you said in your other post that you wanted to write for either Miko or Ei, I HAD AN IDEA!!

What if Miko and fellow kitsune!Reader who start their breeding months (in january obviously) and have Ei volunteering herself to them not knowing that they can’t obviously be sated in just one day 🙄 (r.i.p her cunny)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: switch!Miko x sub!Ei x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader and Miko can shift what they want (specifically their genitals 😄), knotting and breeding (not really)

☆ — NOTES: You. YOUUUUUU. Are such a genius ily anon ty for this 🙏🙏🙏

Ohhhh this bitch REALLY fucked around and found out LOL I almost feel bad.......almost

Have to hand it to Ei though, she DID try to research before proposing the idea in the first place. Especially since this is set in the first year since she got out the PoE........but studying it obv won't be the same as the real thing LOL

You and Miko have fared relatively okay on your own—the two of you have ABSOLUTELY mated before to ease each other's heat but it always felt like something was missing. You both made sure to take procedures to make sure neither of you ever concieved a child after the process with the excuse of the two of you being way too busy to care for one but like. The actual main reason was that if you were to have a child, you both wanted to have the third piece of the puzzle there with you

Now that the third member of your polycule's back, your heats are STRONGER THAN EVER bc wtf she's acc here??? Ughfhghfhh neeeeeed......like do you get me I hope you do

It wasn't as if it was a normal discussion to have out in public (you both always talked about it indoors until neither of you needed to really talk ab it anymore from all the time spent w each other) but it was a nice picnic between the three of you; Ei's head was on Miko's thighs as she ate up yet ANOTHER skewer of tricolour dango while you were leaning on the latter's side when she brought it up

Ei cleared her throat with a slight tinge of nervousness, "Could I perhaps, ah.. assist the both of you in your mating period?"

You choked on the dango that you were about to swallow as you see Miko startle the slightest bit, nearly dropping her novel in the process.

When you managed to regain your composure (or at least a modicum of it), you could only rush out a simple "'scuse me?" as Miko placed her book down to the side with a raised brow.

Miko combed her fingers through Ei's hair as she questioned, "What brought this on, dear?"

"Well..." The Archon licked her lips as she slowly got her words out, "I've.. left you two for over five hundred years. And while I'm glad that you both had each other for company whenever the season hits, I cannot deny that.. well, I feel bad, I suppose."

"You feel bad," the shrine priestess mocked, which.. really, wasn't all that undeserved, despite the fact that she was mocking the nation's leader.

"For a lack of a better word, yes." She sits up and turns to the both of you, putting the now-empty skewer aside, "Now that I have returned from my admittedly self-imposed isolation, it would be remiss of me to.. avoid my duties as your lover."

"I don't mean to be rude, Your Excellency," you teased, "but do you even know what you're saying? You've been in the Plane of Euthymia for so long; I worry for your safety."

You hear the pink fox envoy let out a quiet snort of amusement for your slight condescension (all in good faith, of course) as Ei sighed, "I think you forget that I am not a fragile mortal who needs to be coddled—I can withstand brutal wars and come out victorious."

"Besides," she adds, "I have done a fair amount of research to refresh my knowledge. I assure you both that I can take whatever it is you give me."

Miko mused, "I thought you knew better than to rely on textbook information rather than actual experiment, Ei."

"You're trying much too hard to dissuade me from my offer."

"We both deserve to rib into you for at least a couple hundred years."

"Especially considering how we've been left to fend for ourselves..."

"I.. suppose I do deserve that. And I want to make amends for it all, starting with this. So.. will you let me help? Please?" She looked at the both of you with such sincerity despite the subject matter.

...

The fact that Raiden Ei herself was begging the two of you though...

The both of you jumped her sides with sharing grins, your ears flicking in sync as you let out your own laughs.

"You should hope that you don't regret that, Ei.."

"..Because we are rather.. insatiable."

Then comes the actual thing and ohhhhh girlie was NOT prepared

When I said your heats get worse bc of how Ei's back, I fucking MEAN IT. It's the fact that that familiar sweet smell isn't just a not-quite-forgotten memory for you two anymore that it's just driving you both abslutely NUTS

When she gets to you two she gets POUNCED ON and there is. Basically no break for her at all and foreplay is basically foreGONE atp tbh

Eat her cunt like a bitch STARVED it's like both you and Miko are competing and assisting each other at the same time like who can eat her out better, who can make her squirt, etc etc

SO MANY BITE MARKS ON HER HOLY SHIT like okay yes on you and Miko as well but both of you want to mark Ei EXTREMELY for all the time you've lost with her. The both of you wanna show both Ei and perhaps the entirety of Inazuma that archon is YOURS at the end of the day......at least, if the loud noises didn't give them enough of a hint 🤷‍♀️

You're so right anon rip Ei's cunny indeed bc both you and Miko ABUSE the living HELL out of it❗️❗️❗️ You do often have to personally pry Miko off when she's overstaying in the spot you're supposed to share 🫶🫶🫶🫶 just tell her she's being a VERY bad girl rn and she'll fold. Usually she wouldn't but the haze (lol) in her mind is sooo fucking thick she can't think straight and she can't think of the witty remarks she would've otherwise made :((( poor baby the only thing she wants to do is breed and get bred :(((((((

I need to spitroast her with Miko so very badly I'm ngl to you I neeeed I NEEEEED I need to see Ei being impaled on both ends, both sides basically slobbering

It'd be very messy and would 100% take so long before you finish but when you do, it's with your fellow kitsune's own pussy practically filled to the brim and Leaking as she's laid out and finally passed out as your hips are locked in on your Archon's own; you cumming inside of you for like the nth time and stuffing her full w a mix of both your and Miko's cum and essentially plugging it with an inflamed bulb :3

Whether Ei has a system that allows her to get pregnant or not, gen who knows.......but one thing's def for sure. Or like three things acc: one, you two are VERY clearly excited that your shared lover is finally back; two, turns out she absolutely LOVES being used and bred by her two partners; and three?

It was an unusually hard thing to do, waking up. Despite having an artifical body and being an archon that has faced true horrors and extreme exhaustion, she found herself absolutely spent from the marathon.. copulation.

Ei had hoped that her exhaustion meant that the two of you were much more tired than she was, even despite your inhumanity, and yet...

Her eyes couldn't help but flutter open as a sudden gasp left her lips—she sees you push into her roughly with a lust-addled look on your face. You were already inside her when she fell asleep, considering the animalistic knot that held the both of you together, but even when it had shrunk to a more.. manageable level, you still hadn't taken it out.

Then Ei looks slightly to the right and there she sees her pink-haired familiar, heavily breathing as she grinded her wet, hot pussy onto her thighs with such loud, obscene moans.

(If the Archon listened close enough, which she did, she would've noticed the slight growl to the sounds she made—such a sound was at its most clearest when she ducked down to press another bite mark on porcelain skin.)

She couldn't even utter a word to remark that she had just woken up, didn't even have the room to do anything to stop you before you started pounding away at her like your life depended on it.

..And she could. Really, she could. She wasn't the feared Raiden Shogun for nothing.

She could stop you if she wanted to.

If she wanted to.

But when she feels the residual fluids within her gush out as you essentially resculpt her insides over and over and over, when she feels the desperate whines that Miko lets out as she cums and covers her thigh in slick, well.

She finds that she doesn't really want to.

(And really, not only was it her fault for volunteering, but this is her responsibility as your lover.)

(She knew that, and she wasn't going to start shirking her responsibilities again.)

(Even if it costs her her mobility for a while. But it's fine, she can just do a lot of maintenance after.)

[notintattooine]

if only for a night

pairing: padmé amidala x anakin skywalker x fem!reader 

warnings: 18+, polyamorous relationship, sexual content (ffm). not proofread bc i overthink <3

a/n: this was shorter and sluttier than intended...i actually took months to finish this....anyway!!! enjoy!!!!<3

inspo credits to @bimbo-baggins17 <3 you made me realize i could absolutely post this :)

the gilded elegance of the senate meeting room felt like a dramatic contrast to the sterile meeting areas the council seemed to favor. you’d been trying to focus on anything but the ethereal beauty of the woman in front of you, senator padmé amidala. she was really impressive…… with a wonderful taste in windows, you thought to yourself. you’d (really) tried your best to listen to the discussion occurring but found yourself drifting into a daydream. finally, master windu suggested beginning preparing a celebration that was to be thrown later. you’d practically shot out of your seat- anything to regain the sense of control you 're supposed to have instilled into your being. (maybe that’s why you and anakin got along so well) 

of course the jedi goodbyes had begun, pleasantries engaged back and forth until obi wan finally put you out of your misery. accomplishing this by dragging you and anakin out, or (rather) trying to persuade the two of you to join in. padmé was talking about the celebration as she finally made her way over to the three of you, catching you first.

“and y/n, you’ll be there?” her voice had a slight hopefulness to it as her soft amber eyes met yours. “you’ll join anakin and me, won’t you?” the last part was low enough for only your ears to catch as she grazed her forearm against yours. her perfectly glossed lips pressed up into a smile as she placed her hand on the small of your back to lead you toward anakin. it was as if she’d electrocuted you, excitement trickled through every nerve in your body as you approached. 

anakin’s gaze shifted to something less friendly and more…playful as you two approached. his grin widened and his body language softened, welcoming you and padmé into his personal space. “we were hoping you’d join us?” 

“oh- of course” you managed to get out, flustered by the attention from the hottest couple in the galaxy. “i would love to.” 

-

“you’ll join anakin and me, won’t you?” padmé’s question had gripped your mind since it left her  lips. would you join them? it was risky, taboo, maybe even wrong. of course you would.

your mind seemed to be elsewhere while you laid out a dress from your closet, running your fingers along the silky fabric. deciding to put it on, slipping it onto your figure, you turned to the mirror. a smile crept upon your face as you admired the dress and its delicately embroidered lace details. it was rather flattering in the way it ruched and flowed in all the right places- it had been a birthday gift from padmé years ago. the color matched the sea foam green waters of naboo and brought fond memories of your youth along with it. fleeting moments of confessions in castle corridors and years of forbidden longing. 

-

you’d managed to make it to the celebration, eyes scanning the crowd of jedi for a set of more familiar faces. as you did, a metallic hand placed itself on your lower back. anakin smiled down at you, eyes traveling over your body.

“care to grab a drink?” his signature smile graced his face. “padmé will be here soon.”

you followed him to the bar, his hand sitting comfortably on your waist. you took a seat next to him before he ordered.

“two of my usuals.” he smiled, holding up two fingers. “thank you.”

you shrugged as the drinks arrived, hoping his taste in alcohol was as decent as his taste in women. you held the glass up to your lips before taking a sip.

you grimaced “oh stars-  anakin, what was that…. jet juice?”  his lips upturned in amusement. “not a fan?” he mused, wiping at the droplet that fell from your lip. 

“anakin, stop tormenting the poor girl,” padmé’s amused voice called as she approached, her figure resting gently against the bar counter. “you’ll scare her away.” 

-

“you sure?” padmé asked again as anakin’s teeth grazed your collarbone, intrusive thoughts winning as he sunk his teeth into the flesh. eliciting a yelp from you, swallowed by padmé’s kiss.

“never been so sure about anything.” you pulled back mumbling against her lips. switching to suck slightly on her bottom lip as you reconnected. 

anakin’s deft fingers slipped under your dress straps, urging it off. he gawked for a second, marveling at the sight of your nipples hardening against the cool air mixed with the aching in your core. mischief crossed his face as he attached himself to one of the nubs, licking a stripe then biting and repeating. your hands were searching for his hair as padmé slipped her tongue into your mouth. anakin tugged at the perked flesh, eliciting a moan that was straight of a holopad midnight porno from your lips. desperate for relief, your hips bucked, getting the message, anakin shoved his knee between your legs to part them. staring at you like he was going to consume you, he used his metal arm to bunch your dress up to your stomach, his fingers lightly grazing over the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“oh padmé, come look at this.” anakin grinned, looking at his wife. “she’s fucking soaked.” 

padmé smiled widely, “we’ll take care of you, y/n. won’t we ani?” anakin nodded in agreement. 

before you knew it padmé had her hips positioned over your face, your mouth watering at the sight. anakin aligned himself with your dripping sex, reaching to grip your hips as he began to sink his length in. holy shit. you could die right here right now. whining almost pathetically as he sunk in, your mind went blank only brought back to reality when you remembered the brunette above you. padmé let out a shaky moan as your breath fanned on her pussy. without warning you began, licking a fat stripe from her clit to her entrance and back. 

“maker mae, you taste fucking divine.” you mumbled into her, flattening and curling your tongue as she began rocking her hips. 

anakin watched, his dick growing impossibly harder at the sight of you devouring his wife. he removed a hand from your hips to rub your clit, to prepare he brought his fingers to padmé’s lips to wet them. you involuntarily clenched when you heard her mouth release his fingers with a pop. the mental image of what you heard was enough to make your eyes roll. anakin had set a brutal pace after entering you, the squelching of how wet you were would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so wanted.

“oh she liked that.” anakin chuckled, shooting padmé a cocky grin. “gripping me like a fucking vice.” 

padmé’s grip on your hair combined with anakin’s grip on your hips had you reeling, no wet dream or dirty fantasy could amount to the real thing. you’d gotten off to the fantasy more times than you could count. you were here, padmé’s wetness dripping down your chin and anakin’s dick so far in you, your brain hurt. 

you worked at padmé’s pussy, sucking on her puffed clit before tongue fucking her and repeating. she was on the brink of tears with how fucking close she was, all she wanted was to see you fall apart on anakin. 

“y/n.” she warned, “y/n im close,” her hips were slowing but she was trying. you moved your hands to her thighs, bringing her impossibly closer to your mouth. moans from how close anakin had you were spilling into her. 

“me too.” you mumbled, nose bumping her clit over and over. with a cry she came, releasing on your tongue. you let her ride it out, peppering kisses to her thighs. 

anakin was fully slamming in and out of you, the heaviness of his balls, slapping against your pussy. you had your nails dug into padmé’s thighs, still lapping at her when your orgasm hit you. white hot pleasure sent you collapsing into the bed, completely limp as anakin fucked you through it. 

as you recovered, padmé held your face in her hands, peppering kisses against your face. anakin sighed, breaking you out of your haze. he was still painfully hard, his tip angry and leaking.

“oh ani.” you sighed, rolling over onto your stomach, “should we help him?” you turned to padmé. she grinned, gripping his length in her hand, looking towards you.

“spit on it.” she said, “please y/n.” anakin answered , looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows and eyes watering. who were you to deny him?

with a grin, you spit into padme’s hand, before lowering yourself to play with his balls. with a smile graced upon your swollen lips you grinned up at him. he looked ethereal, his curly brunette hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his lip pulled between his teeth. padme worked his cock.

"switch" he panted, "want to fuck your face." he grabbed your chin.

with your pupils blown and drool pooling in your mouth, you obliged. you relaxed your throat the best you could, gagging as you tried to take all of him. he make a makeshift ponytail with your hair, his balls slapping your face as he fucked your throat. his hips started to stutter as padmé kissed him, the lewd noises of their makeout make your thighs clench together. you pulled out all the stops, gagging, drooling and moaning all around him. you knew you had him when he pushed you to the base of his cock, the coarse hairs tickling your face. he came with a cry, spilling down your throat.

you eased off him, resting back on your heels to take a second to catch your breath. padmé pulled you up to her, "you gonna share?" holy fuck, of course you would. you tapped her cheek signaling for her to open up before making a show of spitting his cum into her mouth.

anakin growled. his eyes wide and his mouth agape. he really was the chosen one. as if it couldn’t get any better, padmè lowered her face back to yours spitting it into your mouth. “swallow.” she said, hand gripping your chin.

anakin pulled you into them until you were a pile of limbs, soft kisses being peppered along your skin. “you were great baby.” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. “so good for us.” padmé agreed, kissing the tip of your nose.

it was nice to be theirs, if only for a night.

[ckret2]

would you say Ford is overall happier in the Evil Ford AU? Strangely, it seems he's more fulfilled as Bill's weird little pet rather than trying to destroy him, but then he gets the trade off of the people who actually love him hating him forever

(I guess Bill cares in his own way? But, it's not the same)

I'd say he frontloads more happiness, but ends up unhappier overall.

There comes a time in every Gifted Kid's life that they hit adulthood and discover they aren't, as they'd been told, an intellectual superhero who will change the world, and that they've let down everyone who thought they were.

In canon, Ford had that realization after Bill exploited him, and then spent the next thirty years trying to live up to that high expectation anyway just to try to undo the damage he'd caused while he was being manipulated. But by the end, he makes peace with being Part Of A Family rather than a lone hero who must do it all himself.

By joining Bill, Evil Ford didn't have that realization. He got to spend the next thirty years telling himself yes, he IS that great, he WILL change the world—already HAS changed the world, he's already done the magnum opus that will (figuratively AND literally) immortalize him. All he has to do is wait—while being preemptively hailed a hero by Bill—until somebody repairs the portal.

So instead of being 30-something when he has his great disappointment—you're not the Great Scientist you were promised you would be, you let your family and friends and yourself down—he's in his 60s.

And he comes out of Weirdmageddon alone. As soon as Bill's destroyed, he runs.

His muse, partner, and longest friend is dead. He's sure his niece and nephew hate him now. His brother lost most of his memories, without Ford's help he still doesn't remember half his childhood, the family had to hire a nurse to look after him, and now Ford's estranged from him again.

(In truth Stan's doing okay—he regained most of his memories, and anyway his mind is sharp and he's functioning fine. But the family outside Gravity Falls heard he's losing his memory, went "oh, dementia," and decided a nurse was necessary. However—Ford doesn't know that. He thinks Stan is much worse off than he really is.)

Ford's too ashamed and angry to face his family now. So he finds one of the mini-rifts that opens in Gravity Falls after Weirdmageddon, jumps back into the Nightmare Realm, and goes to rejoin the Henchmaniacs. He doubts they'll be excited to welcome him back, after Bill hyped him up for 30 years and it all came to naught, but where else can he go? Maybe there's a way to resurrect Bill, or maybe he's not really dead. It's the only thing he can think of to do.

And at the end of it all—he still doesn't think assisting in Weirdmageddon was the "wrong" or "bad" decision. If they'd been allowed to finish—if Stan hadn't interfered and ruined everything he'd worked for, for the third time—then he'd be ruling the galaxy like a god and he could have elevated his family with him.

He's not ashamed because he's realized he was wrong; he's ashamed because he's a failure, and everyone he cares about has suffered for it.

[alvojake]

kayla…. words can not describe how much i want to ride this man until he’s creaming everywhere n shi…. like he came so much that we will never be able to cum again. i need to actually be sedated the voices in my head won’t stop.

oh my lord, viv, you are so real for this 😩 and lemme just say that he would turn into such a whiny mess under you.

now, just imagine that on one faithful night, after constantly begging him to let you take over once, heeseung finally gives in, not expecting much from you.

but boy, had he completely underestimated you...

"baby, please... i-it's too much." heeseung's once gruff, commanding tone was now whiny and borderline cries as you pulled yet another orgasm from his sensitive member.

"aww, is my pretty boy overwhelmed." you mocked his whiny tone, rocking your hips against his, eliciting more whimpers from the man, his fingers gripping the plush of your thigh, tight enough you were sure that there would be bruises the next day.

however, despite his cries and moans of it being too much, he still remained hard inside of you. the pleasure completely overtaking his senses as you started to ride him once again.

"you're still so hard sungie..." you cooed at the male, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck. your soft moans filling his ears making his brain turn into mush.

this cycle repeated until almost every inch of both of your bodies was covered in sweat, tears, and cum. heeseung's seed dripping down your thighs, only an ounce of how much he had come. he lay there on the couch, head leaning back against the back, trying his best to regain his breath while slowing his racing heart, sure that you were finally finished with him.

"seungieee..." you called out in a sing-song tone, gaining his attention as he lifted his head just in time to see you drop to your knees in front of him, his eyes growing wide. his protest was cut short when your wrapped your soft hands around his half-hard dick, jaw clenched tightly, and his head flew back; every nerve in his body was set aflame at your light touches. "you're still getting hard, baby, I know you have another one in you." you mused with a sinister smirk before leaning forward to wrap your cherry red lips around his tip, mind set on draining your boyfriend of every last drop of cum he could offer.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hii,do you mind if you make an scene where you and furina or any other characters fight and you ended up taking their cuddling privilege through the rest of the day? Thanks!!

Them taking away your cuddle privileges after a fight

characters: Furina / Nilou x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

a/n: ....you know... reading through the request one last time before posting this, it looks like I may have misunderstood smth *slightly*.

I hope this is still fine! If you want me to write reader taking away their cuddling priviledges after all just request it again and I'll try to write it someday!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

“I’m nowhere clingy!”

You’d have to be either deaf, stupid or oblivious to an unhealthy degree to miss your cuddling privileges being revoked. Furina had not exactly been subtle when openly declaring it after all. And while she may not have mentioned cuddling specifically, not trusting herself to not blush like a little kid at just the mention of it, you felt confident in saying that she had delivered her message well enough for even the most tone-deaf idiot to understand.

And yet, the exact same accusation that you had half-jokingly thrown her way and that she had taken such great offense to, turned the next few days into some of the best entertainment you had experienced in recent memory. Seeing an former Archon act dignified while at the same time having to fight the obvious urge to hug you the moment you were behind closed doors, only to then turn around and act like her embargo on hugging and cuddling was punishing you, was funnier than any comedy a human could possibly ever pen.

“So… about our argument a few days ago.” Furina spoke up the moment you returned to the table with your cooking, forcing you to fight off the grin that was threatening to pop-up on your face.

“So, about our argument a few days ago”, you repeated her words, intentionally ending on a high note to leave her waiting for your next words, only to continue to set up the table in silence.

“Are you- I-” she eventually stuttered out, only to stop herself before she could embarrass herself further. Her cheeks glowing slightly red as she tried to regain her composure.

“Who knows, if you were to apologize for your groundless accusations a few days back right now, I might just forgive you”, Furina graciously offered with closed eyes, avoiding to look at you in the process.

All the better for you, or she might have noticed the wide grin that had finally broken out on your face. For a moment you considered her ‘offer’. Sure, you missed cuddling on the couch as well and weren’t exactly the biggest fan of keeping up these kind of games…. and yet seeing her continue to needlessly die on this hill that so obviously harmed her more than you was very amusing.

“Wow, really? That seems very nice of you”, you mused with a smile while filling her plate with a portion before doing the same for yours and sitting down opposite of her. “Bon Appetit!”

“Oh come on. Stop being so stubborn! I’ve even given you such a good opportunity to apologize!” Furina's dignified act crumbled right before your eyes as she started to sound more and more desperate. You could practically hear her begging you to be the bigger person, and yet being small felt surprisingly great.

And yet you eventually- FINALLY gave in, much to the relief of the person sitting in front of you. “I am so sorry for calling you clingy Furina. I now see that I was clearly in the wrong and the one actually fitting the description of ‘clingy’ was in fact me”, your apology came out with a… healthy amount of sarcasm, and yet it was more than enough for her.

“...I’ll forgive you. Since you were nice enough to cook for me today”, she declared.

“I know I might be overplaying my hand here, but would you be so kind as to indulge me in a bit of cuddling later on? I’ve simply had to go on without it for far too long.”

“YES- Sure”, Furina immediately jumped at your offer before quickly switching back to her usual act, a wide smile plastered on her face nonetheless as she looked down at the food in front of her.

“It looks delicious, bon appetit!”

Nilou 

While the two of you seemed to have quickly moved past your argument, spending time together as if nothing had happened and avoiding to even mention the subject again, it quickly dawned on you that while you had hoped this to be one of those arguments noone had to explicitly apologize for and that was simply forgotten the next day, the other party involved seemingly was of a different opinion.

Not that Nilou said anything, she greeted you with the same sweet smile before chatting and going on small walks through the bazaar with you in the same manner as on any day of the week. And yet, whenever you as much as tried to initiate any kind of physical contact, no matter if hand-holding or hugging and cuddling, she’d dodge as easily as she breathed. At first it seemed like nothing but a coincidence, but after the dozenth time even you realized something was wrong.

What followed was a days-long standoff. Both of you trying to make the other one crack before yourself, while retaining your sweet and unbothered facade, and while there were moments where you could have sworn to nearly see Nilou instinctively grab your hand, she always managed to stop herself before anything happened.

And while you certainly could have continued with the act for weeks to come, you eventually decided to be the bigger person. For the sake of putting this childish game of chicken behind, of course. And for no other reasons.

“Sure Nilou. You win”, you disrupted the silence that existed between the two of you while Nilou was in the process of adjusting her stage, her movement grinding to a halt as she began staring at you in confusion.

“I wasn’t aware we were playing something. Did you have fun?”

‘Not aware’ your a- 

“Mhm, I am sorry about the argument”, you cut off your thoughts, immediately earning yourself a tilt of her head. After all this time you knew her clueless act to be nothing but an act and yet, when she looked at you like this you nearly found yourself doubting it all over again.

“Oh that? That was a whole week ago, did it still bother you all this time?”, she asked before finally finishing putting down the pot of flowers, quickly making her way down from the stage to join you and shooting you a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, I forgive you. I also didn’t mean everything I’ve said.”

If Nilou hadn’t suddenly grabbed your hand and started pulling you along her daily routine, you might have almost rolled your eyes, instead you found yourself thanking Lesser Lord Kusanali that you were indeed correct about your theory.

Bye Bye childish standoff, welcome back cuddling privileges.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending (A Chaconne Story): Chapter 3 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Being a rising soloist isn't all it's cracked up to be as you face new challenges, all while encountering Agatha Harkness at every turn.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Helloooo welcome to chapter 3! This chapter briefly deals with/mentions imposter syndrome & performance anxiety, so if either of those topics make you uncomfortable you have been warned. The piece mentioned in this chapter is Gluck's Melodie, from Orfeo ed Eurdice :) As always, thank you for reading & I hope you enjoy! Feel free to let me know what you think, my asks are always open!

Previous Chapter

There were few things in life that brought you as much peace as playing your violin. Taking a few hours to tune out the rest of the world and solely focus on your instrument was the fastest relief to whatever stressors were occurring. Unfortunately, that tranquility had all but vanished as of late- much to your dismay. But you tried to put it out of your mind- your week had been a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and press engagements to kick off the summer concert season, and this morning was no different. Before this evening’s big Donor’s Gala you would be leading a Master Class with promising young musicians in the area. 

Getting out of the car, you took off your sunglasses, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight. This morning’s temperature was significantly warmer than you anticipated, and you found yourself melting by the time you made it inside the symphony building. Setting your violin case on the ground, you allowed the AC to wash over you, while making a mental note to remember to bring a water bottle in the future as you had been forgetting all week. It was early enough the building was nearly deserted, or at least you thought so as you relaxed in the air conditioning. 

“Still getting used to the LA heat, dear?” 

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you dropped your keys. Whipping your head around, you were unsurprised to find Agatha staring back at you, amusement coloring her features. The conductor appeared to have entered the building right after you did, black sunglasses in one hand and her bag hanging off her shoulder. 

While you looked like you were about to fall over, Agatha looked as put together as she always did, seemingly unaffected from the scorching temperatures. 

“Agatha,” you breathed out, slowly regaining your composure as you gave the conductor a quick once over, the gears turning in your head. Symphony rehearsal wasn’t until the early afternoon, she was awfully early. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d assume the same reason as you; the Master Class,” Agatha pointed out before motioning to your keys that were still on the ground. “You might want to pick those up, it would be a shame if you lost them.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you reached down to pick them up, feeling Agatha’s gaze remain on you. “Last time I checked, I was running this class alone.”

“Clerical error.”  Agatha insisted, carefully putting her sunglasses in her bag, before adding, “I’m sure someone was supposed to tell you I’d be joining you.”

“I’m sure.” You mused, thinking about how often this had been occurring as of late.

At first you didn’t think too much of Agatha’s unannounced appearances, because her explanations seemed logical enough at the time. When she dropped in on your interviews for your Artist in Residence with the LA Symphony, she claimed getting her interview done at the same time would be more efficient. During a meeting for PR, she rationalized needing to give her final approval as the orchestra’s music director. Even your late night practice sessions weren’t safe, as they almost always ended with the conductor sneaking up on you, her cackle echoing through the empty hall as you wondered if she was trying to kill you.

But the more she popped up, the more you wondered if her actions were as altruistic as she claimed them to be.

“Shall we?” Agatha prompted before taking off down the hallway, leaving you no choice but to follow her. 

Walking in silence through the deserted building, you thought of possible conversation starters, and were stumped. As comfortable as you still felt around Agatha, it had been a long time since you’d been around her this frequently. 

As if she could sense your hesitation, she gave you an inquisitive stare. “Stark tells me you’ll be gracing us with a performance this evening.”

“It’s just a little something,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest at the reminder, opening the stage door for the conductor. “Anything to help the orchestra.”

Agatha smirked, her hand grazing your shoulder as she brushed past you. “How chivalrous.”

Clearing your throat, ignoring the rush of butterflies from her brief touch, you changed the subject, as this was one of the few times you had been alone with Agatha all week. “So how have things been with the MSO?”

“Oh you know,” Agatha hummed, switching on the stage lights, “I’ve overseen a few personnel changes, but nothing else, really.”

“Personnel changes?” You questioned, wondering why she was being so vague while trying to recall if Monica had mentioned anything to you.

Agatha raised her eyebrows, appearing genuinely curious. “You haven’t heard?”

Before you could ask what she meant, one of the staff members came backstage, informing you the class would be starting in ten minutes. 

Agatha started to walk out, but when she noticed you hadn’t moved she cocked her head to the side. “You’re not going to make me endure this on my own, are you?”

A small smile graced your lips at her jest. “Promise me you’ll be nice, they’re just kids.”

“I have no issues with the children,” Agatha insisted. “Their parents, on the other hand…”

“Not a fan of the hovering parent?” You joked, joining her onstage, the bright lights shining down on you.

Agatha frowned, a dark look in her eyes as she mulled over your words. “Not quite, no.”

The conductor set off down the stairs without another word, taking a seat in the front row, carelessly setting her bag down with a loud thump. 

During your time together Agatha never mentioned much about her childhood, and you were never brave enough to ask. You knew from a few Google searches that her mother had been a rather well known concert pianist, but that was about it. Agatha had always been guarded, and as much as you tried to peel back the many layers that she used as self defense, you hadn’t managed to get through them all.

Taking a seat next to her, you checked the time to find there were a few minutes until you began. The sound of Agatha rustling through her bag was mere background noise as you scrolled through your phone. It wasn’t until you felt something cold against your arm did you notice a reusable water bottle was now resting on the armrest of your seat. 

“What’s this?” 

“You’re going to end up passing out on stage from dehydration.” Agatha said disapprovingly, her thick black frame glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose as her head was tilted down, reading an updated copy of the Master Class schedule. 

“I could have brought my own water,” you insisted, trying to ignore how touched you were by the thoughtful gesture.

The conductor folded the piece of paper she had been reading, adjusting her glasses as she gave you a pointed look. “I’ve watched you prance around like a parched baby deer all week, the last thing I need is for you to fall and break your violin.”

“Just my violin?” 

Agatha pursed her lips, blue eyes twinkling as she evaded your question. “A simple thank you would suffice, dear.” 

The weight of her gaze was nearly too much for you to bear, for you found it to be far more exposing than the brightest of stage lights, but you were unable to look away. Agatha’s fingers grasped the bottle, extending her arm until it was hovering over your legs. 

The conductor looked at you expectantly, and you had never been one to deny her anything. 

Lifting your hand, you accepted the bottle, fingers crossing hers as you held it in your palm. 

“Thank you, Maestra,” you said, watching Agatha’s eyes drift to your intertwined fingers, neither of you moving from the contact.

Agatha lowly hummed, untangling her fingers from yours as her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. Neither of you spoke, but for once the silence felt less suffocating, allowing you to reminisce on a time where this had been normal. Closing your eyes, you wished you could stay this way forever.

The sound of voices outside the hall grew in volume, zapping you back to reality. Clearing her throat, Agatha gave your leg a gentle squeeze before letting go, and you poorly tried to hide your disappointment. 

“Try to remember to drink that,” Agatha murmured as she stood up, and after a moment added, “I don’t want you to get hurt before the concert season begins.”

You weren’t sure why the confirmation that she still cared hit you as hard as it did, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the entire Master Class. Agatha kept true to her word, and was on her best behavior. You only remembered halfway through the class how good she was with children, as the faint memory of the school concert day she once planned rang through clear as day. 

She was still Agatha, of course. Her sarcasm and quick witted sense of humor could never be diminished, but she softened ever so slightly when offering advice after each musician performed. Her constructive criticism actually was constructive, and you were reminded how gifted of a teacher she was. 

You did have to reign her in when a few overzealous parents insisted on voicing their own opinions, but overall you were pleased with the turnout.

It was surreal in a way, being in this new position. When you were younger your dream was to be a professional violinist, and it often felt as if that was the only thing you had ever been fully certain of. But you had been having a hard time finding your own way; to be able to fully accept that you had earned this. To believe that you were worthy. Looking at someone as astonishingly accomplished as Agatha Harkness, you couldn’t help but feel like a fraud.

It felt like a facade the majority of the time, your violin acting as your mask on stage, effectively shielding all of your doubts to the outside world. But it was difficult to present that version of yourself when you were standing next to Agatha, for you found yourself falling back in time to when you were nothing more than her assistant. Naturally leading you to wonder if the conductor still saw you in that imbalanced light, or if she could ever view you as her equal. 

Once the last of the students left you lingered onstage, discreetly watching Agatha. The conductor was leaning against the grand piano, one hand perched on the edge while she scrolled through her phone. 

“I can feel you staring,” Agatha called out, not looking up from whatever she was doing. 

“I’m not staring,” you lied, clearing your throat as you took a step towards her. “Is everything alright?”

“Hm?” Agatha asked, finally glancing up at you. When you motioned to her phone, she arched an eyebrow. “Jealous I’m not giving you all of my attention?”

Spluttering, you shot her an indignant glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Placing her phone on the piano, the conductor crossed her arms across her chest, smirking as she took a small step forward, invading all of your senses. “If you must know, I was going over tonight’s performance with the concertmaster, she had a few questions.”

It was then that you recalled last week’s symphony rehearsal, where you witnessed what you felt had been rather visible tension between Agatha and the concertmaster, Hela. Your stomach began twisting in uncomfortable knots at the memory, while you were forced to consider why the thought of Agatha being with someone else made you feel sick. 

“Hela, right?” You asked, careful to keep any trace of the growing pit of anxiety from your tone. 

“That’s right,” Agatha confirmed, an inscrutable expression on her face as she regarded you. “I’ve known her for quite some time. Her brother is the new CFO of the symphony.”

All thoughts of Hela were pushed to the back of your mind. Your eyes widened, unable to contain your surprise. “What? Where’s Hayward?” 

“In prison,” Agatha replied casually. “Well, I'll take that back. He’s supposed to be in prison, but I’m sure he was able to get a reduced sentence. The woes of the wealthy white man.” 

“Prison?”

“For fraud and embezzlement of all things,” Agatha shared conspiratorially, leaning in closer as she whispered, “I must say, it was quite a scandal. Still a bit of a mystery as to who tipped off the feds.”

The smug expression on her face was a dead giveaway, as Agatha had never been subtle. 

The sigh left your mouth before you could stop it, lips curling downwards to form a frown. “Tell me you didn’t…” 

“That I didn’t do what, dear? Uphold my duty to rid my orchestra of a bloodsucking leech?” Agatha countered, pacing around as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

“But prison, Agatha? Really?” 

The stage creaked with every step the conductor took, finally stopping when she stood directly behind you. 

“If I remember correctly you were never fond of him either,” Agatha pointed out, her breath hot against your ear as you let out an involuntary shiver from the pleasurable sensation. 

“I wasn’t,” you admitted truthfully, as Hayward had been a major thorn in both your and Agatha’s sides throughout the entirety of your time with the MSO. 

“Besides, I didn’t make him do anything. He was guilty,” Agatha said honestly, and although you weren’t looking at her you knew she was telling you the truth. Embellishments and dramatics aside, she had never lied to you. “I merely sped up the process of justice being served.”

Allowing the conductor’s words to wash over you, there was a pause as you decided to change the subject. “So, Hela’s brother?” 

“He’s business oriented like Hayward, but far more cunning. A lot more clever, as well. He’s also not actively attempting to sabotage me, so I’ve had more free time,” Agatha explained, and you then remembered what Monica had mentioned of Agatha being absent a lot this past season. 

“I’m sure you’ve been awfully bored,” you replied, your brain fixating on Hela and if there was any correlation between her absences and a potential relationship with the concertmaster.

“I’ve found…ways to keep myself busy,” Agatha delicately responded, taking a small step back. 

Turning around, you gave her a curious glance. “Really? Have you been doing anything interesting?”

“This and that,” Agatha vaguely offered, folding her hands across her chest. 

Deciding to test your luck, you took a step towards her. “I’m sure you’ve been doing something worth mentioning. Any traveling?”

Narrowing her eyes, Agatha scanned yours, deep blue orbs searching for something unknown as she appeared to contemplate your question. “Can't say I’ve had time for any vacations while I’m running an orchestra.”

“Of course,” you agreed, pondering over Agatha’s words while coming to the realization that either Monica misspoke or Agatha, for the first time, had potentially lied to you. But why? 

Taking your silence as an opportunity to strike, Agatha raised her right hand, index finger contemplatively tapping against her cheek as she observed you. “Quite nosey today, aren’t we?”

“I think a good musician should always try to be curious,” you weakly said, wondering why Agatha was being so secretive.

The conductor snorted, “I almost forgot how meddlesome violinists are as a species.”

Ignoring the dig, you approached her for a final time. There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, but you weren’t sure where to begin as the words kept getting caught in your throat.

“I know it’s been a long time,” you started to say, as this was the first time you had addressed the elephant in the room. “But I’d like to believe that after everything we’re friends, right?”

The words burned your tongue, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling. You and Agatha were friends, sort of, right?

Agatha stiffened at your words, and for a moment you allowed yourself to believe you saw a flicker of displeasure cross her features. But, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. An uneasy silence fell between you, and even though Agatha was mere steps away it felt as though an  ocean separated you. 

“Yes, dear,” Agatha finally answered, voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’re friends.”

The sound of your phone dinging caught your attention, as you gave Agatha an apologetic smile. “I should probably check that. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Seven o’clock sharp,” Agatha reminded you as she traipsed across the stage, pulling her phone back out. “Don’t be late.” 

The best way to prepare the day of a performance was to get plenty of rest and stay hydrated. There typically wasn’t enough time to make any major changes to whatever piece you were performing, so hours of practicing was both unnecessary and a waste of energy. Lacking something to do with your hands, you instead spent the hours leading up to the gala in a fretful state. This had been occurring more frequently with each new performance you took on. It didn’t matter the size of nature of the event, the self-doubt you normally could keep at bay had fully taken over.

While your violin had once been your safe haven, an escape from reality, it was now slowly turning into an anxiety fueled nightmare. Lately nothing you did felt right. Every bow change was jerky, each shift of your fingers ending flat. Your vibrato was too fast, but then too slow. Nothing was good enough, and the more you attempted to fix it the worse it became.

Burdened as you were, how you ended up at the gala on time was a mystery, but you skillfully avoided the majority of the orchestra’s donors as you slipped backstage. Tony had managed to deliver everything he promised; a beautifully decorated ballroom with a room full of wealthy donors who had come to be entertained for an evening. 

Part of that entertainment including you, your brain reminded you, as you watched the ending of the orchestra’s performance of Danzón No, 2, Agatha’s hands cutting them off with a dramatic flourish of her baton. The room erupted in thunderous applause, and you forced yourself to look away as Agatha shook Hela’s hand before she exited the stage.

Greeting a few members of the orchestra who passed you, a cold sweat dripped down your back as you listened to Tony ramble on stage about reaching record high donations and how the night wasn’t over yet. You had to physically stop yourself from hearing his speech on the “treat” the audience was in for with the last performance; your performance. It didn’t feel right, receiving this praise, not when you could barely make it through the relatively easy piece of music you had selected for this evening. 

“You’re on as soon as Tony is done,” Pepper reminded you as she walked past with her tablet, most likely tracking the incoming donations.

The rushing sound of blood filled your ears as you stiffened, hands feeling clammy as you struggled to hold onto your violin. While you were no stranger to pre-performance jitters, this was one of the worst experiences you had with it yet, the room beginning to spin as you closed your eyes. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t go on with the way you had been sounding all day. 

Maybe you could pretend to faint, or be ill. The latter wouldn’t be too much of a lie with the way your stomach was churning at the mere thought of walking out on that stage.

There was a light touch on your shoulder, and you thought you heard someone saying something but it was hard to hear anything over your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Darling?”

Agatha’s voice managed to cut through, and you felt her hand on your shoulder rub circles as you managed to take a shaky breath, slowly opening your eyes. 

The conductor was hovering over you, concern etched on her face. You hadn’t felt her grab your violin and bow, but both were safely stashed on a table to your right. The room was far too bright, and your body far too hot as you squirmed. 

“Are you alright?” Agatha asked quietly. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

You briefly noticed the backstage area was mostly cleared, a stark contrast to the crowded flow of musicians that were there mere seconds ago, but you paid that no mind. 

“I know I need to go out there, but I don’t think I can,” you said, trying your best to breathe but the rapid tightening of your chest making it difficult to form complete sentences.

Narrowing her eyes, Agatha stepped away for a moment, grabbing a nervous looking stagehand and saying something incoherent to them before they hurried off. The conductor was back at your side, now holding a bottle of water as she opened it, handing it to you.

“Drink,” she gently urged you, and upon noticing your reluctance she sighed. “I know you don’t want to, but drink.”

Taking a small sip, you struggled to swallow, the cold liquid acting as a shock to your system.

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, rubbing your back for a moment before pulling away. “Now, I need you to listen to me. Do you trust me?”

Your heart felt like it was about to give out, and the room was moving at such a rapid pace you had difficulty standing. There was almost nothing you were certain of, but the one thing that you had never truly doubted was your faith in Agatha. 

You barely recognized the sound of your voice as you let out a meek yes. 

“Stark is out there stalling,” Agatha explained, and it appeared she was actively refraining from rolling her eyes. “But he can’t stay out there forever, otherwise we might start to lose the money we’ve already raised.”

The tightness in your chest was gradually relenting, and you were able to breathe with more ease. “I’ll be fine to perform, I just need a minute.”

The conductor rolled her eyes at your comment. “A heroic offer, dear, but you’re not going out there alone. I’m going to perform with you. That little stagehand ran off to grab the sheet music. I’ve performed Gluck before, but it’s been a while.”

That managed to get your attention, and you stared at her in shock. Agatha almost always refused to perform the piano, and had only played for you once. Despite being considered one of the most gifted pianists of her generation, the conductor had not performed publicly in decades.

“You’re going to perform with me?” 

Rolling her eyes again, the conductor gave you shoulder another squeeze. “You have heard of a duet before, haven’t you?”

The room stopped spinning, and you were able to open your mouth without feeling the need to vomit. Managing to give her a weak smile, the conductor nodded, handing you back your violin. The nerves were still there, but now Agatha was standing beside you as she instructed the same stagehand on how she wanted the piano positioned and you no longer felt like you were drowning. 

Tony must have received the okay from Pepper to wrap up as he transitioned out of his long speech.

“Now, I know I’ve promised all of you a performance from our current Artist in Residence, but this is a special evening, isn’t it? I’m thrilled to announce she will be joined by the incredible, incomparable, Agatha Harkness. The Maestra will be putting down her baton to give all of you her first public piano performance in years.”

Agatha’s jaw clenched at that, but when she found you staring she gave you a reassuring nod.

There was more applause, and Tony jubilantly exited the stage, wishing you both good luck as he went to converse with Pepper. 

“Just focus on me,” Agatha whispered in your ear before you walked out together, the applause deafening as she strolled over to the piano, taking a seat as she stretched her fingers out over the keys.

Positioning yourself to where you could see her in your line of vision, you planted your feet firmly on the ground. Raising your violin, you set your bow on the string, trying to ignore the unsteady feeling threatening to rise yet again.

Agatha’s finger pressed down on one of the keys, playing an A to allow you to tune your violin. Rolling your bow, you checked each string until you were satisfied, giving Agatha a discreet nod that you were ready to begin. 

Locking eyes with Agatha, you raised your violin on an upbeat to cue her in. The second her fingers hit the keys, you were able to pretend there was no one else there, only the two of you. Moving through each measure, you focused on the notes you had memorized, and for the first time today it didn’t feel overwhelming. Your vibrato rang through with every note, and the sound didn’t make you want to throw your violin in a woodchipper.

Agatha was a sight to behold, hair carelessly thrown over her shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bench as she slightly slouched over, fingers dancing across the keys. Although she claimed she needed the music, you couldn’t help but notice she had barely glanced at it once, her focus on you. There was something so magical about watching her at the piano, even the simplest chord she played produced the most exquisite sound.

Melodie was a piece originally from the opera Orfeo ed Euridice. It had later been transcribed by Fritz Kreisler for piano and violin. It was a dance between the two instruments, with the violin line singing over the piano accompaniment. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking, and was a rather accurate representation of your emotional state as of late. 

The hesitation you had been feeling now gone as you allowed yourself to relax, focusing on growing every phrase as you and Agatha played off each other. It was funny, you had never rehearsed this with the conductor, but you played perfectly in sync. Every breath you let out Agatha inhaled as you watched her lithe fingers stretch across the instrument to form various chord progressions. 

As you entered the final phrase, your fingers delicately shifted down the fingerboard as you hit your last note, slowing the speed of your bow, and extending your vibrato as Agatha leisurely played her final chords until the noise died away. 

Holding still, you finally released, and as you lowered your violin there was tumultuous applause from the crowd, but all you noticed was Agatha looking at you in a way you had never seen before. 

The moment was over all too soon as Tony came back on stage, insisting you and Agatha receive a standing ovation as he gleefully announced that tonight’s gala produced an all time high number of donations. Agatha rolled her eyes discreetly at you, but you noticed how pleased she appeared. 

You were swarmed by enthusiastic donors, and Agatha wasn’t faring much better. The conductor made sure you were able to put your violin away before Pepper had swooped in, insisting you take pictures.

Agatha sought you out long after the crowd dwindled, a glass of wine in each of her hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The conductor asked, offering you one of the glasses. 

Quietly thanking her, you accepted the wine, taking a small sip, the alcohol swirling around your tongue and you turned to her in surprise as you swallowed. “Pinot Noir?”

“Your favorite, if I recall correctly,” Agatha politely remarked. 

“That’s right,” you confirmed, taking another small sip before lowering your glass. “Thank you, for earlier. I’m sure you’re tired of saving me.”

Agatha’s lips curled downwards, her eyebrows creasing as she gave you an unreadable expression, as if she hadn’t witnessed your earlier anxiety attack. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t think I could have gone out there on my own,” you admitted, the truth a bitter embarrassment. “I’ve been having trouble with my confidence lately.” You motioned to the now empty space and stage. “With all of this, it's just getting worse.”

Nervously biting your lip, you half expected for Agatha to crack an off-hand, witty comment on how obvious that was given your backstage freak out, but the conductor set her wine glass down, giving you her full attention.

“Go on.”

“I…” 

Pausing, you came to the stark realization you had never shared this with anyone out of fear of being judged. But then you looked at Agatha, her piercing blue eyes boring into yours, and your fears melted away.

“I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time,” you confessed, fidgeting with your hands as you stared at your feet. “This is all I ever wanted, but now that I’ve made it, I don’t know if I’m cut out for all of this…I don’t…”

“You feel like you don’t belong?” Agatha guessed, and upon your small nod she added, “You obsess over every miniscule detail of each performance, and it doesn’t matter how many people say it was good, it feels like it wasn’t great. Right?”

You felt your blood run cold, as the conductor managed to hit the bullseye of your recent anxieties. Blinking back the tears that had been threatening to escape, you took a deep breath before looking back up to find her pointedly staring at the ground.

“How do you know that?” You asked softly, surprise evident in your tone, because Agatha was the most confident person you had ever met. 

“Perfectionism is practically conditioned into us from the day we begin learning music,” Agatha reflected, still not meeting your gaze. “You know, my mother was a rather successful pianist.”

When you refrained from commenting, because you did know that, Agatha continued. “She’s the reason I started playing the piano. Sometimes I think she only had a daughter not because she wanted a child, but because she wanted to mold another version of herself. Nothing that I wanted ever mattered, it was always about her.”

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, because you couldn’t imagine having a parent like that, but the conductor waved off your apology, clearing her throat.

“Don’t be. My mother was a fool, and she remained one for the rest of her life,” Agatha said, without a trace of sorrow in her voice. “My introduction to music was one filled with fear. I had been taught to never be satisfied with myself, because I could have been better. I wasted a large portion of my childhood seeking her approval, wanting for her to be proud of me. But I eventually learned that it’s impossible to win when you’re being set up for failure.”

This was the most vulnerable Agatha had ever allowed herself to be with you, and you nervously folded your hands across your chest.

“So what did you do?”

“Well, I moved across the country when I turned eighteen, and never saw her again until she was being put in the ground,” Agatha reminisced, finally daring to look up at you. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes over the course of my career, but one thing I’ll never regret is embracing fear.”

“Embracing fear?” You repeated, unsure of where she was going.

“Those thoughts you’ve been having,” Agatha prompted, her attention focused solely on you, “they don’t go away. They’ll most likely just get worse. So, you can either succumb to it, and let the fear of failure win, or you can embrace it and allow yourself the ability to recognize that greatness doesn’t come from perfection; it comes from having the courage to try at all.”

You had unconsciously shifted closer to the conductor as she spoke, until your shoulders were nearly touching as you both leaned against the edge of the stage. 

“Has that helped you?” 

“As much as it can. Music is unique, as is every musician,” Agatha thoughtfully replied.

The gears in your brain turned, thinking back on the multiple instances where Agatha had made a member of the MSO cry. 

“And do you use that advice when working with your own orchestra?”

“Funny,” Agatha deadpanned, grabbing her wine glass by the stem to take a sip before setting it back down. “There’s a difference between pushing yourself too hard versus settling for mediocrity.”

“I think that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” You pointed out. “They’re all world class musicians. I think sometimes you’re too hard on them.”

“They are,” Agatha confirmed, running a hand through her hair as you fixated in on her messy dark brown curls. “But some of them have become lazy. They don’t feel the need to improve at all, and that’s an insult to the craft. It’s my job as their conductor to make them want to perform at their very best.”

You knew Agatha meant well, and deep down you were sure the orchestra did as well.

“That makes sense, thank you.”

“For what it’s worth, I thought you were extraordinary this evening,” Agatha praised you, her hand coming to rest on top of yours. “You’ve always been extraordinary.”

The physical contact was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Relaxing under her touch, you felt your cheeks grow warm from the compliment. “Thank you, Agatha.”

Your glass of wine abandoned on the stage behind you, you allowed yourself the opportunity to enjoy this intimate exchange with the woman who had been haunting your memory for the past five years. Agatha, for her part, appeared to be comfortable as well, as her hand remained atop yours, unmoving from where she stood next to you.

“And for the record, Hela and I are friends,” Agatha murmured, grabbing your attention once more. Sensing your surprise that she picked up on what you had been hinting around, she rolled her eyes. “You’re a lot of things, darling, but you’ve never been subtle.”

Her words sounded eerily similar to what you had asked her earlier, but you had made it this far and after years of what if’s and errors of miscommunication, you had grown weary of the unknown.

“Friends….like how you and I are friends?” You quietly questioned, the implications of what you meant appeared to be obvious enough from the way Agatha gave you an amused smirk.

“No, dear,” Agatha murmured, raising her hand to gently stroke your cheek, looking at you in ways you had only been able to dream of. “Not like how you and I are friends.”

Tangling her fingers in your hair, Agatha chuckled at the involuntary shiver you let out as she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. She was so close, and any self control you had mustered was slowly slipping. Your breathing turned shallow, eyes locked on her perfectly plump red lips.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but your brain short circuited as the conductor parted her lips, slowly moving towards yours. You could smell the wine on her breath, as you vividly pictured tasting it off her tongue. Using her free hand, Agatha tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at her, and you were lost gazing into her hazy blue eyes.

Before you could fully rationalize what you were doing, you leaned in, closing your eyes as your lips were about to meet. From the back of your mind, you thought you heard Agatha’s breath hitch as your heart raced from the anticipation. 

A loud slam of a door caused you to break apart. Agatha ran a hand through her messy locks, breathing heavily and you felt your cheeks grow hot as she gave your hand a brief squeeze before stepping away from the stage, straightening her suit jacket. 

A man came stumbling into the room before you could ask what almost just happened, holding what appeared to be a small cage. He looked familiar, did you know him from somewhere?

The man, who seemed to be oblivious to what he just walked into, spotted Agatha and began to nervously ramble.

“Maestra, I’m so sorry. The flight got delayed, and apparently you can’t only buy a first class ticket for an animal, so I was able to get myself one too. I tried to use my card to pay for it, but it didn’t go through, so I put it on yours. Then I tried to call you, but my phone stopped working. I tried to check into the hotel, but I realized I left my wallet at the airport. I remember you said you’d be here so I thought I’d come and-” 

Holding up a hand to silence him, Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. “It’s fine, Lang. Please stop, your voice is giving me a migraine.” 

The man kept going, shuffling around uncomfortably. “Well I can pay you back for the ticket but with my current salary it will probably take me around…a year, maybe?”

Agatha waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “I said it’s fine, Lang. Consider that your holiday bonus.”

The conductor sauntered over to the man, reaching her hands out to grab the cage from him. Gently setting it down on a nearby table, she opened it, pulling out a rabbit. She scratched his ears as held him, annoyance gone as she gave you a small smile. 

“Do you remember Scratchy, dear?”

Of course you did, you thought to yourself as Agatha brought Scratchy over to you, the hardened look in her eyes softening as you gave him a few pets. You discreetly nodded towards the man who was pacing the room, hands in his pockets, and Agatha sighed, her irritation appearing to return as she glanced back over at the man.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. This is my assistant, Scott. He’ll be joining me for the rest of the summer.”

Scott gave you a quick wave and you couldn’t hide your surprise. This was Agatha’s assistant? He certainly wasn’t what you had pictured.

“Great,” you said, feigning enthusiasm, trying to pay attention to the conversation between Agatha and Scott, as the man told a rather strange story of his travel day.

The more he talked the more confused you were as to how Agatha hadn’t managed to fire him yet.

But, all you could really do was wonder what would have happened if Scott hadn’t interrupted, and what this meant for the rest of the summer; as opening night was quickly approaching. Your heart fluttered, as you realized the more time you spent with Agatha, the more you secretly wished you had never said goodbye to her all those years ago.

[littledollll]

Loving

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: I needed some brienne sweetness in my life and I saw a couple of people talking about the same thing. This came to me in just a few days and I’m very happy with it! I need to remind myself that my fics don’t always have to be over 1,000 words.

Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and happy holidays🎊

Warnings: not much, playful banter, lots of loving (as title suggests), Brienne adores you, you adore Brienne, mentions (barely) long distance relationship? A bit of a playfully possessive reader.

_______________________________

Brienne always made sure to be extra quiet when she arrived home late, not wanting to risk waking you and ruining your precious sleep, there’d always be time for all the greeting and talking in the morning.

She was pleasantly surprised to find you were wide awake and seemed to have been waiting for her for quite some time. There was a cup of tea placed on the table and a book you were merely scanning with your eyes before you looked up at her.

“Look at you trying to be sneaky in that clanky armor..” you mused.

“It works when you’re asleep, or at least I’ve been led to believe it does?” She said as she dropped every item she was carrying near the door for later.

“No no.. it does work. I appreciate you not waking me up, but don’t you deserve a little company once you’re finally back?” You said as you stood and made your way towards her.

“I missed you so much, pretty..” you murmured softly as you stood on your tippy toes, your arms wrapped around her neck, and pulling her into a tight hug. “The least I could do is help you get ready for bed.”

“That’s nonsense. There’s no need for such a thing, it’s not too much work and I rather see you sleeping peacefully than disturb you for something I can do myself.” She counter argued.

“Absolutely nothing about being with you could ever disturb me in any way. I appreciate you way more than I do my sleep.”

“Oh my that’s a heavy statement. You do love to sleep.” Brienne said with a smile grazing her face as she hugged around your waist.

“I love you way more.” You said as you pulled back a bit to look at her.

“You look too stunning, seriously. I can’t have you looking like this while you’re far away from me, somebody’s bound to steal you away.” Your smile light up every part of her soul as you spoke, but your teasing was endless every time she visited you.

“Don’t start with that..” Brienne seemed a bit flustered at that, but she was quick to wrap her own arms tighter around you, lifting you into her grasp. You let out a little yelp in surprise as she lifted you up, but quickly regained your composure to shoot her a look.

Brienne sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping you wrapped up in her arms as you sat on her lap.

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to call my woman, pretty?” You mused as you played with her hair. “Mm.. you’re allowed.. but you know no one will steal me away from you.” She mumbled as she nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“They better not.”

“Love-“ Brienne started a sigh, before getting cut off by you.

“I’m serious!”

She moved her head to look at you, a soft, more than beautiful smile on her lips. “I know you are.”

“I love that about you. So unnecessarily possessive when you know I’m yours. I love you.” She could spend a thousand years listing all the things she loves about you. If only it were possible.

You hummed, pulling her into a kiss in response. It carried a world of softness and love she could feel in her soul. She didn’t know how you did it. You made her feel so complete, you made her feel the love of the whole universe.

You rested your forehead against hers once you pulled away. “I love you too.”

[madhatterbri]

Unwanted Assistance | K.M.

Summary: Kol isn't particularly fond of you helping an ex.

"You're going with him? That's just marvelous. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?" Kol asked while pouring himself a drink. He took a big gulp before pouring himself another. The vampire turned to look back at you. Your scared ex standing in the doorframe.

"Kol," you started seeing the look of anger wash over his face. You just told him the plan that you cooked up to gain the werewolves trust. The plan wasn't the best but all bets were off when your ex-boyfriend entered the room. The Mikaelson siblings tensed at seeing him. "It's going to be fine,"

"Which part is fine exactly, darling," he stressed. Dark brown eyes glared at the man you once called your lover. Kol could easily break him. A little wizard man was nothing compared to Kol.

"The werewolves want to talk. They agreed to tell me their terms. We have to build their trust after they were persecuted for years by the vampires," you reminded them. The hot headed vampire glared at your ex.

"Then we will build it another way. He can't protect you. Hell, he can barely protect himself," he mused while scanning your ex up and down. Your ex was a little battered. His face was scratched along with his arms showing he was in the defense. Ever since there was talk of trying to make amends with a pack of wolves, those not in the peace talks were restless.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking" your ex chuckled dryly. Kol gritted his teeth and broke the glass in his hands. Alcohol and shattered glass fell on the ground. Your ex jumped yet quickly regained his composure. Niklaus smiled yet looked down trying to not laugh. Elijah shot a glare at his younger half brother.

"Kol, please, we need your support on this as well," you begged. Your fingertips touched his cheeks softly. You kissed him. Kol's eyes stayed open and looked at the jealous, scared man behind you. He winked and leaned into the kiss.

"You and Harry Potter have twenty minutes. I don't hear anything from you I am going in. Do you understand me?" He asked. You took it as a win. That was the closest you were going to get to him agreeing.

"Thank you," you smiled. "I'll see you soon,"

You left with your ex leaving Kol alone with his brothers.

"Only one broken glass and no broken bones. My word brother you are maturing," Elijah complimented. Kol rubbed his neck. Black lines surrounded his eyes. He muttered that he was going to kill the wolves and the wizard boy before leaving. "On second thought maybe not,"

"I guess not all of us can change brother," Niklaus shrugged while pouring himself a drink. "Care to join me?"

[yanderestarangel]

Just heat me out, step!big brother Kuai Liang x ftm reader. Where Kuai Liang buys a kimono that is too small on the curves of his step!brother and they end up fucking 🥴 `'yes inspired by your J.ai bot.

- 🍓

Urghh I just love this concept lol. This was my favorite bot.

TW: ftm reader, fingering, eat out, shibari, afab anatomy, praise, stepincest, dark smut, use of powers, squirt.

The fabric of the kimono accentuated your curves beautifully, your thighs were creamy and soft while your breasts spilled out of the garment's horizontal neckline ─ you were practically naked and it was Kuai Liang's fault

But after using his voice so many times to show you the results, you decided to go out and show him how it had looked on you, even though you were practically naked in the eyes of anyone there. As you enter the room, Kuai Liang can't help but swallow hard, his gaze lingering on the sight of your skin and curves peeking out from the kimono. His breathing becomes slightly ragged, his eyes locking onto your pussy teasingly exposed beneath the fabric, the thin material barely hiding the enticing view.

"Wrong number indeed," he murmurs, trying to regain his composure. He steps closer to you, reaching out to adjust the collar of the garment, his fingers brushing against your neck briefly before he straightens it out. "Let's find a better fit," he suggests, biting his lip to hide his arousal. He guides you over to his closet, searching for another gi that might suit you better.

"Maybe something more, covered?..." His brows furrow as he rifles through the selection, his mind racing with thoughts of how seductive you look in the current outfit. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but imagine running his fingers along your exposed skin, tasting your tender flesh.

"But you still look lovely, little prince."

You lightly joked that you looked like Jessica Rabbit due to the red color of your short kimono ─ Kuai Liang on the other hand can't help but laugh softly, his laughter rumbling through his chest. He stands behind you, resting his head on your delicate shoulder, his grip gentle yet firm on your breasts. The sensation of his breath against your skin tickles slightly, his eyes never leaving the reflection of the two of you. "Jessica Rabbit reincarnated as a prince... quite the transformation," he chuckles, enjoying the feeling of your curves in his hands. His grip tightens ever so slightly, giving a gentle squeeze before releasing you.

"However..." His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, his erection pressing against your ass as he speaks. "...my prince looks rather... enticing." He whispers the last word into your ear, his breath warming your earlobe as he leans in closer, his intention clear despite his calm tone. You saw his look at you in the mirror in front of both of you, as he with his warm, warm hands traced your body and lifted the thin fabric of your robes, exposing your naked body to him ─ A smile played on your step brother's lips, as you felt him get hotter, practically the comfortable heat of his muscles engulfing you. The pyromancer took some spare strings from his closet, some new ones that were used for his future Lin Kuei training, but now he had other plans for such an object.

"For someone with an angel face like yours, my little brother know how to manipulate situations. An innocent little face that hides a mischievous little devil." he muses, his voice low and husky as he ties the ropes in various knots, preparing them for whatever comes next.

"Don't worry, little angel, I won't hurt you." With that promise, he begins tying the rope around your wrists, ensuring they're snug but comfortable. If you're nervous, he'll reassure you all the while, his focus solely on ensuring your comfort and pleasure. He finishes passing the brown lines all over your body, placing emphasis on leaving your thighs wide open and exposing your pussy for his gaze. As he brings you to the bed, he doesn't waste any time, diving straight into pleasuring you. His tongue flicks out, immediately finding your clit, sending electric shocks through your body as he lavishes attention on it. He watches your reaction, pleased to see you tremble and drip for him. This surprises him, but it only fuels his desire further.

"You're so wet... so responsive..." he mumbles against your folds, his erection throbbing painfully in his pants. He kisses your clit again, then sucks it gently into his mouth before releasing it. "Such a naughty little boy you are, opening that pretty pussy and letting your step brother use you." He chuckles, teasing your entrance with his tongue, exploring every inch of your folds. The fire ninja relishes the sight of your trembles and whimpers, your breasts swaying gracefully despite being restrained. He smirks, captivated by your reactions to his touch.

He removes his fingers from your dripping pussy, causing you to whimper in protest. But as he pulls you onto his lap and spreads your legs, your protests turn into moans of pleasure as he begins to lavish attention on your sensitive clit.

"Good boys deserve to be rewarded." he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. His fingers continue to tease and stroke your clit, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys along your neck. He revels in your squirming beneath his touch, the way your body reacts to his every move. Your step older brother's fingers continue their sweet torture ─ his other hand caressing and squeezing your breasts, his touch demanding and gentle all at once.

You feel a heat in your core, made even worse by the shibari ropes on your body ─ He knew what was coming next simply by the way you pathetically begged him to make you cum, a request to which the tattooed man gladly complied. "you're going to give me a fucking squirt aren't you little brother?" He mocked as he used his powers and slightly heated the tip of his fingers, putting perfect pressure on your sensitive spot. You felt your vision cloud as you screamed his name and threw your head back finding his chest, he saw the transparent liquid come out of your pussy and stain the floor making him giving you kisses along your sweaty neck while he still held onto the ropes that bound you.

"good boy... you were my good boy."

[allfortzu]

between one and two

-- momo / jihyo / tzuyu, 1.8k. smut // polyamory // MEN DNI

scalding hot; always when they're together.

to say tzuyu didn't love being praised would be a lie.

when she agreed to join momo and jihyo today, she failed to consider the fact that no one doted and adored her more physically than them, her girlfriends, and regardless of any mistakes in choreography, she was simply faultless in their eyes. 

though she initially keens at it, the constant affection eventually becomes distracting in ways she refuses to admit. 

“just like that,” jihyo murmurs, hands on tzuyu’s waist, helping her into position. 

momo leans against the mirror, arms crossed. her eyes rake over their figures in contemplation. “remember: hold, turn, then dip.” 

it would be good advice to remember, if only tzuyu wasn't so caught up trying to ignore her painfully tensed jaw. 

jihyo’s hands are warm against her skin, almost screaming for her attention through the cloth of her t-shirt, and the chest tightening feeling is all the more intensified under momo's gaze.

jihyo seems to notice, as attentive as ever. 

“breathe, tzu,” she whispers. 

unfortunately, tzuyu is given minimal time to heed her reminder as momo starts the music up once again, and she's thrown into their practiced choreography with only her muscle memory and jihyo to guide her. 

she finishes back in jihyo's arms after a final spin, and by then, momo has pushed herself away from the mirror to review their finishing post more closely. 

they hold their places instinctively, letting momo position them as she pleases. 

tzuyu's a little out of breath – from the dancing, she'd hoped – but now with both momo and jihyo in such close proximity, she's not too sure if it's just that anymore. 

“that was perfect, really,” momo muses, pleased.

tzuyu's gaze is too busy darting from jihyo's in the mirror to momo's just opposite her, before she falters completely and settles on the hardwood floor. 

she doesn't hide it very well, it seems, because momo and jihyo exchange knowing glances. there're teasing glints in their eyes; unavoidable. 

“are you nervous?” jihyo raises a brow. 

nervous is an understatement. tzuyu can feel her heart in her temple, and she knows jihyo feels it too. 

“you did amazing, baby,” momo praises, caressing tzuyu's cheek to bring her gaze up. “what's wrong?” 

now momo can feel it, she's sure. 

“i– um,” tzuyu says. momo catches her eye, and she panics. “i need a break.” 

thankfully, they don't push. 

jihyo presses a kiss to her cheek before letting go, allowing tzuyu to scramble away to catch her breath. 

she sees them chuckling in her peripheral vision, but decidedly ignores it for the sake of her sanity. she's never been good at handling the two of them at once. 

she falls back on the couch with a huff, rubbing her face in her palms. 

momo and jihyo pay her little mind after, and while tzuyu's able to regain her composure momentarily, she quickly finds herself flustered all over again when they resume practice. 

the move perfectly in sync, somehow acutely aware of each other.

there's something about watching momo and jihyo dance – tzuyu doesn't think she could ever tire of it. 

she keeps her eyes trained on them, mesmerised. there's an unexplainable admiration and want that stirs. 

it’s momo who notices this time and snaps her right out of her thoughts. 

“tzu-ah, come here,” she says, reaching her arm out. 

tzuyu is startled, but there's little time to overthink it. she takes momo’s hand and lets herself be drawn in. 

momo catches her by the waist before she stumbles. 

jihyo comes up from behind then, tucking her chin on tzuyu's shoulder and clasping her hands in front of her abdomen. “you seem a little… distracted.” 

tzuyu doesn't miss the way the corner of momo's lips tug upwards. she can't see jihyo's face now, but she’s sure jihyo's just as unbearably smug about it, if not even more. 

they seem to read each other's minds– where jihyo's hands stop, momo picks up somewhere else. 

tzuyu can't help but cast her eyes downwards; momo's lips look very kissable. i’m fucked, she thinks. 

“i’m not,” she murmurs. 

they can tell anyway – they already have. she only hopes they'd stop or do something about it. 

knowing them, they've never been able to resist the latter. 

“mhm,” momo drawls. “of course not.” 

behind her, jihyo sneaks her hands beneath her shirt. tzuyu chokes up. 

“what did i say about breathing?” jihyo scratches lightly, just up her sides, always teasing. 

tzuyu sucks in a breath. she's compliant to a fault. “i'm– i'm trying.” 

“you are,” jihyo hums, velvet in tzuyu's ear. “keep going, baby. you don't have to hold back.” 

tzuyu doesn't know who she's talking to. on the other side, momo curls a palm around her nape and scatters kisses down her jaw. oh.

“ah, i–” 

“you're good,” jihyo tells her. as it always is with jihyo's way with words, tzuyu believes her. 

“i'm gonna die,” tzuyu lays a hand over jihyo's, halting its motions. “if you two– if you do it together.” 

she feels momo nibble lightly; clutches onto momo's shirt instinctively in response.

momo smiles against her skin. “you’ve done it before. you're still here.” barely, tzuyu thinks. 

“you can take it,” jihyo murmurs, followed with a kiss on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and a stubborn hand up her chest. 

the words take effect almost immediately. tzuyu's head falls back with a soft cry, heaving into jihyo's touch. “slow– slowly, please.”

she floats between impatience and oversensitivity, suspended on the edge of a cliff; too eager and afraid to jump off at the same time. jihyo twists her fingers gently, and the reaction she gets from tzuyu is almost euphoric – high, whiny, and knee-buckling. 

momo has to take hold of tzuyu's waist, parting momentarily from her nape. her free hand, the one tzuyu had no mind to notice, makes itself known between her thighs. 

tzuyu gasps into the ceiling, melting. “oh– unnie–”

where momo lacks in words, jihyo makes up with generous praise. 

“i've got you, don't worry– just like that,” she coos. “just perfect, tzuyu.” her hands continue kneading slowly, a fine balance between momo's fingers brushing up her centre and the tension in her chest, and the warm timbre of jihyo's voice. 

momo's fingers brush up her centre, cupping her through cloth. “you've been thinking about this,” she says when she gets there, warmth in her hands. “haven't you?” 

“i'm always– thinking about you two,” tzuyu says with a half-gasp, twisting her head into jihyo. jihyo finds her lips easily, tzuyu's hand on her cheek urging her to come closer even if they couldn't be anymore close. 

“what a sweet tongue,” jihyo notes, splaying a hand over tzuyu's stomach. “did you hear that, momo? she's always thinking about us.” 

“mm-hmm,” momo drawls lovingly. “what can i say– you’re quite irresistible, hyo.”

her hand moves languidly as she comes over to kiss jihyo in earnest, and tzuyu’s sure she catches her eyes in the midst of it on purpose. 

while it would've halted all of tzuyu's thoughts immediately, the sounds made from their kiss rile tzuyu up even more than anything else they could've done. tzuyu squirms in between them; the grip she has on momo’s shoulder and jihyo’s neck respectively is so tense she wonders how she has any energy at all to keep herself upright – then again, jihyo was doing most of the work there, and if tzuyu's mind was clear enough, the realisation would've hazed it up all over again. 

when momo pushes her palm up, pressing against her, tzuyu jerks suddenly with a moan. “momo–” 

momo parts from jihyo's lips. “will you come like this?” her voice is still electrifyingly breathy from the kiss, rough. 

“no–,” tzuyu whines, tugging on momo's sleeve. “want you inside– in me, unnie–”

momo's fingers trail to the waistband of her sweats, teasing. jihyo ignores it, dipping her hand past the elastic and into wetness. 

“you want momo's fingers in you, baby? or mine?” 

oh god, tzuyu thinks. this is how i die. 

“anything– unnie, please,” she begs, because how could she possibly choose? 

it seems to be the answer jihyo is looking for, anyway, because she pushes further down and in almost immediately, and tzuyu's back arches forward with a strangled cry. 

“how's this?” jihyo hums, playful. 

tzuyu doesn't answer, not that jihyo really expects one with how her far head was thrown back and her fingers clawing at jihyo's neck. tzuyu wraps a leg around momo, knees soft, and momo is gracious enough to tighten her grip for support. 

though, not gracious enough to spare tzuyu of madness. 

she pulls tzuyu's sweats down slightly, just enough for her hand to join jihyo's. “leave a little fun for me, hyo,” she mewls.

jihyo shifts in turn, “sorry, i couldn't resist,” and kisses tzuyu's shoulder for good measure,  proving her own point. even then, she still makes space for momo to lay a thumb over tzuyu’s clit. tzuyu truly goes mad. 

in tandem, they're absolutely unbearable in the best of ways. heat builds up in tzuyu's tummy, thrumming steadily and scalding hot; always this way when the three of them are together. 

tzuyu comes, loud, without any more warning besides the whimper that leaves her throat and the dig of her nails into momo's shoulder. warmth spreads from the base of her tummy, a muted explosion all the way up to her head. 

vaguely, she hears momo's voice. “one more, tzu.” 

then, more clearly in her ear, jihyo, “for us, baby, we know you have another one.” 

when jihyo pulls her fingers out, only for it to be replaced with momo’s mouth, tzuyu yelps. “fuck! oh, fuck, momo– unnie, i can't–” 

she really is going to die.

“breathe,” jihyo coaxes, pressing down on her tummy lightly. “just like that, tzu; you're taking momo perfectly.” 

the praise does wonders for her. with a sharp cry, tzuyu comes again, weak spurts of arousal spilling over momo's tongue. she trembles in their hold, tugging on jihyo for something to ground her, even for a moment. jihyo tilts her chin towards her, fingers still wet, and drowns tzuyu's moans out with a kiss. 

momo emerges eventually, lips glistening with slick. 

when jihyo notices, she parts from tzuyu and kisses momo in turn. 

she lets out a soft, pleased hum, savouring the taste.

tzuyu wraps her hands around momo's neck in the meantime, parched but completely satiated at the same time.

“look what you did to her, hyo” momo teases. “you knocked her out.” 

“who's the one who wanted another round?��� jihyo bites back. 

“you’re both… too much,” tzuyu manages; but, the buzz in her bones soothes her so quickly she can't find it in herself – forgets, really – to complain anymore. 

“ah, she lives,” jihyo laughs. 

“barely,” tzuyu huffs. 

“want us to stop?” momo piles on. 

in the comfort of their arms, tzuyu dozes off before she's able to come up with a wittier response. 

no, she thinks, never, before her eyes flutter close; she'd be lying otherwise, wouldn't she?

well!! what an absolutely insane thing for me to write, I can't believe it either. I hope this madness was somewhat enjoyable to read!! this fic made me miss jitzu a lot :(( now how do I tag this??

also, I'll be keeping my reqs open for one more day, since I forgot to warn everyone beforehand! they'll be closed tomorrow night (in abt 26 hrs) :)

anyway, thank you so much for reading and interacting!! I really appreciate it <3

[youlikegoodstuff]

2 years later…

All Might x arch nemesis! Reader

Gender is neutral.

Summary: it has been 2 years since you have retired your villainy due to undisclosed circumstances. Yagi goes to visit you in prison only to be surprised.

Tw: slight suggestive moments (not even that crazy, just some words that gets taken out of context lol). Swear words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been 2 years, 4 months, and 6 days. 2 years, 4 months, and 6 days since Toshinori had last fought you. 2 years, 4 months, and 6 days since you were taken into Tartarus.

Yagi never kept track of last seeing someone unless they were important to him… and he had to admit to himself: You are important to him.

He made sure to visit his long time arch nemesis of 15 years every week.

Today would’ve been 17th year of being his arch nemesis… had you not been forced to retire days after your 15th anniversary due to an unfortunate event he never wants to think of…

But enough of that, he had issues in the present he was dealing with… like finding a successor… and visiting you again.

Sigh.

He had been really busy the past few months, what with preparing for his retirement and searching for a successor.

And yet, that wasn’t the only thing weighing on his mind…

He had to admit to himself: he missed you. The streets of Musutafu has been too quiet without you, too still.

He missed your presence, your voice, your… your everything.

Yagi sighed to himself as he pushed through the busy streets of the city. Today was the day he would finally go to see you. It had been too long, and for once, he was going to the prison to see you, not as a formality and not as an obligation.

He was going to see you because he wanted to see you.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even see who he bumped into on the street…

Yagi came to a momentary halt as he was brought out of his musings by accidentally bumping into someone on the street.

He quickly regained his thoughts and looked at the person he had collided with.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was-“ as All Might’s eyes focused more and more on the person who he had bumped into, all of his breath left him.

There in front of him, on the street, was you…

Toshinori stood there, completely in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide. He was not hiding his shock that well…

He could tell, however, that you didn’t recognize him. No wonder, because he never showed his deflated form to anybody.

He still stood there just staring at you, while you were staring back, looking like you were trying to place him.

“…you alright, sir?” You asked while tilting your head.

He was in fact not alright.

He was just standing there, staring at you while his heart was thudding so loudly and so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

He finally found some words to say, but they still came out as a whisper.

“Y-yeah… I’m… I’m fine.”

Yagi could not believe his eyes. He had just visited you in Tartarus only a month ago, and now you were just… here.

He looked you over, dumbfounded, and could not take his eyes off of you. You looked so… so… so different to how you normally looked.

He had never seen you in anything other than your villain costume and the prisoner outfit. To see you wearing casual everyday clothes… it was such a huge shock.

“You sure, sir? You look like you seen a ghost.” You said casually.

Yagi quickly shook his head and snapped himself out of his reverie.

“No, no, I’m fine, really…” he said.

When and how were you out of Tartarus?

He wasn’t going to ask that as he knew it would blow his cover… so he changed the subject.

“I’m… very sorry about bumping into you, by the way,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I wasn’t really watching where I was going either.” You chuckled out before moving to walk past him.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, sir.” You said casually.

You were oddly so calm despite once being the super villain, Highland Havoc…

Yagi continued to stare at you as you started to walk away.

It was so bizarre, seeing you be so calm and so casual. The villain he knew was cunning, conniving and manipulative. The you he was so familiar with was always scheming and acting like a mischievous mastermind.

This you was so much different…

“H-hey!” Yagi called out before he knew what he was doing, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You paused for a moment before turning to look at him

“…is there a problem, lad?” You asked while looking at him questioningly.

Yagi froze for a moment when you paused and turned to look at him.

What the hell was he thinking?! He couldn’t very well ask you why and how you were out of Tartarus! You would immediately grow suspicious of him and his identity if he asked that!

“No problem, I…”

He wracked his brain on what to ask you instead and finally came up with something somewhat simple.

“Where are you off to?”

Smooth.

“…Cheba Hut.” You responded casually.

Yagi’s eyebrow raised. Cheba Hut was a sandwich restaurant, that he knew.

But why were you going there of all places so… casually?

“Oh? Having lunch?” he inquired.

“Aye. Nothing else to do at a restaurant but eat, lad.” You said with an amused smile.

Yagi chuckled at your obvious statement. He was still really surprised by how casual you were acting. It was throwing him for a real loop.

“Well yeah, obviously… but by yourself?” He asked.

“…Am I required to walk with someone to a sandwich shop?” You asked with an even more amused smile.

Yagi internally facepalmed at himself for asking that.

He was really terrible at this. His head was so full of questions and worry, but instead of asking the right ones, he was asking the really obvious ones.

“Err… no, no. You certainly are not…” he said, awkwardly fiddling with a strand of his shaggy hair.

The silence was awkward as shit… made even more so when Yagi’s stomach growled out.

Yagi internally screamed as his stomach made its loud declaration of hunger.

Why did that have to happen just as the silence was becoming uncomfortable enough? His stomach always growled at the most inopportune times!

He looked up at you with a somewhat sheepish look and chuckled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I haven’t had lunch yet.”

You simply snorted before giving him that amused look again.

“No worries, I’m not exactly fueled up on food either.” You said, patting your own stomach.

Yagi’s face reddened at the sound of you snorting at his predicament. He knew you were laughing at him.

“Well… uh,” he began, looking in the direction of Cheba Hut and contemplating what to say next.

He suddenly had an idea, and immediately wanted to smack himself again.

“Do you… err… mind if I tag along?” he asked.

“It’s a public space, you don’t gotta ask.” You said with a smirk before nodding your head over to the direction of the sandwich shop.

Damn, he was really was off his game this afternoon. He had to get himself together.

“Right…” he chuckled awkwardly, still fiddling with that strand of hair.

He started to walk beside you in the direction of Cheba Hut, looking down at you with an interested but confused look. He still couldn’t make sense of your odd change in demeanor.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, which All Might found awkward and uncomfortable.

He had so many things he wanted to ask you, so many questions swimming in his head, but he didn’t dare ask any of them for fear of blowing his cover.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, and finally decided to break the silence with an unrelated question.

“Do you… come to this sandwich shop often?”

A few people walked by, giving him odd looks. They were definitely scrutinizing his deflated form with disturbed or creeped out looks…

“Oh yeah. Almost 5 days a week.” You answered his question, still staring forward without a care with your hands in your pockets.

All Might had to suppress a snort at the stares he was getting. He knew he was getting looks of disgust and revulsion. They certainly weren’t used to seeing a gaunt, old, emaciated man walking besides a somewhat normal looking citizen.

He chuckled and was surprised that you admitted to visiting so often.

“Why so often? The sandos that good?”

You chuckled at this, covering your mouth before letting out a huff.

“…you call them sandos? Thats actually cute, lad.”

Yagi almost tripped and fell over at your response. He didn’t expect you to comment on his habit of saying “sando”.

He looked down at you in stunned surprise before a sheepish chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ve… uhh… gotten into the habit of calling them that… yeah,” he said with a slight flush to his cheeks.

“No no, don’t be embarrassed, I was just caught off guard. I don’t hear a lot of men like yourself giving food cute little nicknames.” You said with a laugh, instinctively patting his shoulder.

Yagi was surprised again. He was not expecting you to reach out and pat his boney shoulder without fear or repulsion, or even a hint of hesitation. In fact, your reach was so casual that it seemed almost instinctual….

He did not expect the warm feeling he got from your touch either. Your simple hand on his shoulder felt like the first warm ray of sunlight after a long winter.

He couldn’t tell you how much he had craved your company and your touch during the month that he didn’t see you…

Yagi’s thoughts were interrupted by a group of teenagers walking past them.

He heard hushed whispers between them as they passed, and one of them had the audacity to look at him and whisper a little louder “Why’re they hanging out with that old man?”

Yagi’s face fell for a second, and his fists balled up.

He hated it. He hated being looked at like an old, feeble man. He hated being the one looked down on and pitied at whenever he was out in public.

It hurt being seen as some old wreck due to something he couldn’t control…

“Well that’s cuz I’m 54, wee ones.”

You flashed a toothy grin, showing off your sharpened teeth to the now bewildered group of teens.

All Might’s eyes widened and he froze mid-walk as you called out to the teens.

He hadn’t been expecting such a brazen and casual response.

He had never really thought about your age before, but he definitely didn’t expect you to be 54…

He watched the teens jump at your words and immediately speed up.

Once the teenagers were out of earshot, All Might stared at you with wide eyes, stunned that you had said that to them.

“You…. you’re 54?” he asked, still not quite believing the information he had just been given.

“Yessir.” You said with a casual smile, not at all bothered by your older age.

He could hardly believe it. He always assumed he was a lot older than you, but it turns out you had a few years on him!

What baffled him more was the fact that you didn’t care that you were in your fifties. You should be in your midlife crisis state of mind, yet you were so nonchalant about it. It befuddled him.

The only proof you had of your older age was that small patch of silver hair that stuck out from your (h/c) hair like a (h/t) silver ribbon…

Yagi almost slapped himself again.

How had he missed that!?

He thought back to the past years that he had visited you, and he realized that you had always had that patch with that bullet proof glass between you two! How on earth did he never notice it??

“You like it? I know I do.” You said jokingly as you reached up tugged at the piece of silver hair that seemed to reflect light like metal or the scales of a gold fish.

Yagi snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts, startled again by you.

He chuckled awkwardly.

“H-huh?” was all he managed to get out of his mouth. His brain was still in a loop, confused by everything that had just happened.

“You were looking at my silver souvenir for a hot minute there.” You said in a teasing manner, though not at all bothered.

The early November air and environment made the less populated area of Musutafu look so… what is the word? Yagi couldn’t think of a good word to describe it, but your silver hair reminded him of it.

Yagi’s eyes widened when he realized he was staring. He didn’t even know he’d been gawking at you for that long! He had been so stuck in his thoughts that he forgot his social cues.

He looked away, taking one more glance as the sunlight caught your hair and sparkled against the silver strands.

It was like you took a piece of a winter day and placed it in your hair…

“S-sorry, I just… I didn’t notice that before…” he said, still red in the face.

“I’m not offended.” You said with a chuckle before noticing Cheba Hut just up ahead.

“Brace yourself for some good shit, lad! I’ll buy.” You said while gently slapping him on the arm like you two were friends…

…Well, you could be considered friends, since he always visited you in prison. And even though you were arch enemies in the past, you being the #1 villain and him the #1 hero, the both of you were always friendly, acting more so like two best friends who rough house than actual enemies…

Yagi was slightly startled and confused by the “friendly” slap on the shoulder, but that familiar sense of comfort and warmth came over him again and calmed him down.

He was also surprised by you suddenly suggesting that you pay.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” he muttered, still awkwardly fumbling with a strand of his shaggy hair.

“Why not? It is the 17th anniversary since I’ve been your arch nemesis, yeah?” You said with a smirk.

All Might’s eyes widened as you smirked at him and said his words from his last visit with you. He felt a chill run down his spine.

You knew.

You knew who he was.

And now he was terrified of how you were going to react.

He tried to calm his racing heart, but instead it just beat faster and faster in his chest. His face fell as he stopped walking in front of the sandwich place.

Instead of that look of pity, disappointment, or disgust that usually came with those finding out about his true form, you did not look bothered one bit.

If anything, you looked at him with a mischievous look, playful even.

“You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t recognize you, aye big man?” You said as you opened the door.

Yagi could not believe how calm and nonchalant you were about the whole thing. He had been expecting any other reaction other than the smug look on your face.

Did it not bother you? The fact that he was no longer the muscular, buff “Symbol Of Peace” that he had been since he inherited One For All. Was the fact that he might never be that buff again not an issue for you?

He followed you into the sandwich place slowly, still flabbergasted.

The moment the scent of food hit his nose, his stomach once again growled out loud. He nearly forgot you found out about a secret he kept from you and everyone else…

Fortunately, his brain turned back on and went back to the important topic at hand.

How the hell did you find out? did you know before hand or was he just that obvious.

He found a table for two and sat down, eyeing you carefully, almost warily, as you headed to the counter.

“What do ya want, Lad?” You asked.

You still didn’t know his real name thankfully, he managed to keep that secret locked for over 17 years of knowing you…

Yagi was still dumbfounded that you weren’t putting any pressure onto him despite knowing what he looked like now. You acted like this was a normal outing between friends instead of a possible disaster.

He sat at the table, watching you at the counter, before he heard you ask him what he wanted.

“O-oh, um… a chicken and cheddar, I guess…” he called out to you.

You chuckled and shook your head before giving him an amused look.

“You gotta read the menu, you dork. They’re not simple sandwiches like Subway.” You said while nodding towards the large menu.

Sure enough, the sandwiches were not simple at all, having lots of ingredients as well as funny names to go with them.

Even the sizes were labeled… nugget, pinner… and Blunt.

Yagi looked over the menu with befuddlement at all the different sandos and ingredients he could pick from.

Yeah. This was nothing like Subway.

He looked over the sizes and found “pinners” and blunts, and a thought came to his mind about the “blunt” option.

He smirked, imagining taking a single bite out of an enormous sandwich and having half its filling fall right out onto his lap.

“D-do… do people actually ask for the blunts?” he asked.

“It’s the biggest size for a sandwich here.” You said while still smirking.

“And trust me on this. You’ll want the blunt.”

His mind went somewhere else when you mentioned he’d want the blunt. Your voice sounded flirty for a second, and it made his cheeks warm a bit.

He quickly cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide his pink cheeks behind a hand as you pulled out your card.

“H-haha! I guess I’ll give the… uhh… blunt a shot.”

“Alright. You said you wanted something with chicken and cheddar, right?” You asked.

“Why not try the Midwest Best? Thats the closest thing you’ll get to a regular chicken and cheddar… not that you’ll want it to be when you take a bite~”

You winked at him while saying that.

Either you were hinting at something, or you were hinting at him falling for the Midwest Best sando…

his eyes widened at your words. The words “Midwest Best” and you winking at him, sounded very suggestive to him, but he didn’t know if you meant it to be that way, or if he just had a perverted mind.

He cleared his throat again to try hiding his flustered state.

“I’ll… I’ll try the Midwest Best… y-yeah” he managed to say.

“Alright! Prepare your ass, Goldie locks, this is going to be the best damn sandwich you’ll ever have the pleasure of biting into!” You exclaimed while the cashier typed in his order.

His face went an even deeper shade of red as his thoughts ran wild again.

Do you even know what you’re saying? How can you be making this sound so suggestive??

“Y-yeah, I’m getting… excited in anticipation for the Midwest Best…” he said in a wobbly voice.

Get it together, man!!!!

All Might mentally beat himself up in his mind, trying to ignore that dirty train of thought.

He just had to be so perverted.

No, stop. Focus on something else. Focus on the food. Focus on the…

Damn, focus on anything but what they said…

(To be continued)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah just some fluff.

All Might still hasn’t found his successor, but he did find a daaaaaate~

We’ll see how it all goes.