#look i had truly the least amount of time to do this lol so it is what it is

[tuiyla]

Gleeful Paintbox Project 2.13: Dance with Somebody ↳ top three moments from the episode

[sp3llboundgirl]

Omg omg omg. I just learned someone burned down my abusers car!!!! This made my fucking day 😂😂😂

[tinystarbites]

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school. 

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just- 

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

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pt. II? 👀

[pearlfeline]

truth or dare

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

word count: 1,228

summary: slytherins throw a party and play truth or dare. draco can't seem to play correctly when it comes to you, blaise becomes a wingman, and to pansy, you're a sleepy nerd.

a/n: ughhh i don't really like this because a party just seems so unrealistic to me lol. every time i see those scenarios it doesn't seem convincing to me at all. i didn't add copious amounts of drinks and partying to this because i truly think despite them being who they are, the most they would do is share a bottle together as a small group and not throw a party because they dislike mostly everyone. also, they're still kids. sorry if that ruins the entire thing and this sucks!!! although, i really liked the idea of draco not being able to bring himself to give you a mean dare like he would to the rest of his friends. enjoy.

Your nose was deep in a book when you heard a faint jingling.

“Mrrph..”

You look behind you and see your cat swatting at the window. Your owl was here.

“Oh, Pluto leave that poor bird alone.” You get up and take the parchment from your owl’s beak.

“Thank you, Buttons.”

Buttons blinks once before flying out swiftly.

Once you unravel the parchment, you recognize the handwriting instantly.

“Small party in the common room tomorrow night. Don’t tell the stupid Gryffindors and just come downstairs for once. P.S. Don’t sleep right after dinner like an old crone and attend. I’m tired of talking to the same buffoons every day.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he sends a letter over something he could’ve told you in passing.

“Wanker.” You mumbled, tossing the letter on your bed.

Of course, you’ll attend but there’s no reason to act giddy about it. At least on the outside. How you feel on the inside is nobody’s business surely.

The next day, you expect to walk into the common room with a circle of a few people, but you were met with bottles scattered across the floor.

Draco’s platinum hair stands out immediately despite the lights being dimmed.

“So you took my advice and stayed awake until curfew! Must be a new record for the old miss.” Draco chuckles to himself.

“Quite the dramatic invitation.” You look around and see scared first years peering through the steps.

“Is this your idea of a small party?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s just Slytherins. Whoever chooses to come is invited.”

“Obviously they’re going to show. Everybody who’s here loves to kiss up to the famous Draco Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.

“Not everybody” Blaise comes out of nowhere, sipping whatever from his cup.

“Do you not see how bad of an idea this is? The first years are trying to sleep.”

Blaise nods. “I didn’t want it to be this big either… or this loud.”

Draco rolls his eyes, giving a firm slap to Blaise’s shoulder. “Lighten up Zabini. It’s just a little over thirty people. Not my fault that’s twice as many people you know.”

Blaise takes that as his cue to get another drink and shakes his head before breaking away.

“Pansy is whining about playing truth or dare. Are you coming or not?” Draco’s eyes flick to the dorms.

“You threw a party just so we could all go upstairs and ignore it?”

“Somebody had to bring the drinks.” Draco walks past you, ironically slipping a bit on the steps. The younger kids move out of the way, scurrying back to their own rooms, trying to avoid a lecture out of fear.

You reluctantly follow Draco to his dorm room. Pansy and everyone else were already comfortably lounging, laughing about someone’s misfortune if you had to guess. Blaise followed quickly behind you, shutting the door.

“What happened?” He sits down near Pansy, who was obviously tipsy already.

“Truth or dare Zabini..” She giggles.

Blaise sighs. “Truth.”

You settle down on the corner of Draco’s bed, admittedly excited about the outcome of Blaise’s choice.

Draco sits on the floor, not before putting his sweater where he wanted to sit.

“…Boring… But fine.” Pansy, previously laying on her stomach, sits up and ponders a good question before smiling mischievously.

“Who in this room would you most likely snog..?”

Blaise pauses for a brief moment. “Pansy if you wanted to you should’ve just asked me.”

Pansy face-plants into her hands, groaning. Though, you had a feeling she was smiling under there.

After a few turns, it was eventually Draco’s turn.

“Y/L/N. Pick one.”

“Dare.”

Draco smiles at your answer but it soon fades as he thinks of what to say next.

“You should..”

The circle exchanges looks with one another.

“I dare you to…” Draco’s eyes dart around the room.

“Chug your drink…” Draco muttered.

“I.. I never got a drink.” You replied.

Blaise gives Draco a sympathetic look, before handing you his cup. “Here.”

You hesitantly take the cup.

Goyle furrows his eyebrows. “Malfoy, you just made me sneak outside and bang on Gryffindor’s entryway, why is her dare so-“

“Shut up.” He snapped.

You start to sip an already half-drunken cup, grimacing at the taste.

You hold it all in your cheeks, shaking your head in pain.

“You’ve got to swallow it eventually love.” Blaise takes back the cup cautiously.

You could only manage a squeak in response before forcing it down in an excruciating gulp.

“Not a fan?” Pansy laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

Draco purses his lips to hide his smile, suddenly finding that looking down at his shoes and playing with the laces was worth occupying his time. Despite looking forward to this very scenario all day, he couldn’t bring himself to give you a humiliating dare.

“I don’t know how you all drink that stuff so often.” You smack your lips, still tasting the remnants of whatever drink it was.

“Was that your first drink?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Of course it was. I don’t have access to these… alcohols…” You shrink slightly at how inexperienced and awkward you sounded.

Draco only scoffs. “We’ll, no wonder you couldn’t even chug.”

You glare at him, shoving him lightly. “There wasn’t even enough for me to possibly do that.”

“You looked like a newborn deer trying to drink from its first puddle.” Pansy let out a cackle before covering her mouth.

You close your eyes before rolling back into the bed, grabbing a pillow to shove into your face. It took you a moment to realize you weren’t in your own bed.

Draco’s smell of shampoo seeps through the pillow and into your nose. You flinch slightly but keep the pillow there, wanting to still hide from everyone. Though the mixed smell of fresh laundry and rosewood was an added bonus.

Pansy slaps the foot hanging off Draco’s bed.

“Ow!” You muffle through the pillow.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already!”

Honestly, you were getting tiresome. You rarely stay up and sinking back into a bed didn’t help. You didn’t respond and just closed your eyes.

Blaise looks over at Draco, trying to basically have a telepathic conversation. They both somehow understood each other perfectly.

“Pansy I think we should go to your room and finish where we left off.” Blaise holds his cup with his teeth, one hand pulling her away and the other opening the door.

Draco’s other minions just stared blankly, completely oblivious to what he was implying.

“Get out.” Draco quietly hissed, making them jump and rush out, almost squeezing into Blaise and Pansy between the door frame. All mumble incoherently trying to push each other.

In between this time, you actually did doze off. Draco turns back around to hear your breathing slightly get heavier as if you were on the verge of snoring. He sighs, lifting the pillow off your face and placing it under your head.

“I bet Dumbledore sleeps later than you.” He mumbled.

Draco pulls the blanket from under you and tucks you in. He could’ve almost burst out laughing by how you sleep so easily, but he decides against waking you up after Blaise basically gave him two favors tonight. Draco slumps onto Blaise’s bed, staying up as long as he could, making sure you were able to sleep uninterruptedly throughout the night.

[bakugoushotwife]

gym partners

a/n: this was a hot hot hot request! i hope you gojhoes love it as much as i do <3

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: pining lol, pervy gojo, scheming gojo, blowjob, mentions of oral fem receiving.

wc: 4.3

He knew exactly what he was doing. Inviting you over to work out in his private home gym after hearing you complain about the facility you had been attending since graduation. Satoru Gojo wasn’t subtle in the slightest, you were convinced he didn’t know what that meant. He’s been shamelessly flirting with you since your first meeting all those years ago in the classrooms of Jujutsu Tech, and it seemed graduating from school wouldn’t stop him from trying to impress you out of your pants. Maybe it was because you were so nice to him, never faulting him for his arrogance or annoying tendencies. It didn’t hurt that you were ridiculously beautiful, and your techniques were truly awe-inspiring. Maybe it was because despite all this, you played hard to get with him for some reason. 

It was fate that made you both teachers at the same school you used to attend, for it gave him ample opportunity to pester you more. He  overheard you telling Shoko about the athletic facilities being inadequate and the amount of male attention that you earned. He wasn’t so fond of the latter statement, though he knew it to be true. You were a total smokeshow, any man would be winning the lottery to cart you around on his arm, the perfect duo of insane talent and looks. He almost thinks it’s unfair until he considers that he himself is also the same way, selfishly enough. Though ever since that day, he can’t help but let his brain go wild thinking of all the ways he could make you his in his home gym, if only you’d jump on the opportunity. 

Your relationship with Satoru was…complex at best. You had been friends and training partners since you met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech, seemingly the only person other than Suguru Geto who could not only withstand–but enjoy–his presence. And then Suguru was gone, so it left you as all he had. Boy was he determined to prove it, to keep you as his person for life. He was the closest thing to a friend you had, aside from Shoko now that you’ve started teaching. 

There was definitely something more to the connection, at least you thought. Banter was seamless, working together on missions only showed the sorcerer world the best team imaginable, and he tirelessly worked to spend more time with you. You were only apprehensive because of your own massive crush on him. It may seem counterintuitive, especially if you think he could like you too, but you kept convincing yourself that it was your own brain playing tricks on you, making you see more to the story when there really wasn’t. He was probably trying to be friendly with you, and as badly as you wished you could have that, you know you could never settle for it. You would always selfishly desire him in more ways, not that you’re the only one. You know every man, woman, and everyone in between or outside of those definitions did a double take anytime he walked by. Anyone who’s anyone wanted him, and you would never be able to blame them. So you shot him down at every invitation to spend time together one on one, avoiding him anytime you knew that you would be alone. 

So imagine your surprise when he knocks on the door of your classroom and slides inside before you can respond, just the two of you. Alone. With Satoru Gojo. You look up from your papers, your focused gaze meeting the familiar, friendly, and fiery blue gaze of the one and only strongest man alive, even with the blindfold obscuring your view of him. He grins, and you look back down at the stack of History of Jujutsu Technique assignments. He chuckles, pulling a wooden chair away from a desk and dragging it behind him as he struts to your table. The sounds of the wooden legs screech along the tile floor until you can detect his frame towering over your desk, feeling his snarky eyes burning holes into your head. 

“Miss Y/N! Long time no talk. If I didn’t know any better–” He says, the amusement in his voice evident as he spins the chair around to straddle, leaning his lanky arms over the back. His blindfold kept the emotion in his eyes guarded, but his smile was bright white–and clearly teasing you. “I would think that you were avoiding your dear old pal, Satoru!” 

You hum in fake confusion, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “Avoiding you? Oh no, never. I’ve just been so busy lately. All these papers, decorating the apartment, I got a cat recently and I–”

“Started going to the gym, a little birdie named Shoko told me. She says you hate the one you go to, though. How unfortunate.” His features are as smug as ever, and you know instantly that Shoko didn’t tell him a thing. “I imagine she told me out of the kindness of her heart, for our dear friend knows that I happen to have a state of the art, top notch, extremely expensive, home gym!” 

You narrow your gaze up at him. You may not be able to see his eyes through the blindfold, but you knew that he could see yours. He could see everything about you, except for  emotions, thankfully. “Shoko did not tell you that I started working out.” 

“No, she didn’t!” He admits without shame, leaning forward on his propped up hand, his smile unfaltering. “I just happened to overhear, but the fact remains! I can help.” 

“I…work out pretty early, you know our schedule, I just don’t think I could impose.” You smile at him politely, shifting your weight in your seat. He was bringing you dangerously close to revealing the truth. You yearned for him so bad, he had to feel it. Knowing Satoru, you wouldn’t put that past him. An invitation to come to his home every day and work out was nearly too good to pass up, yet you knew that if you jumped at the chance, you wouldn’t be able to deny yourself from crossing other boundaries as well. 

He tilts his head at your reasoning, his jaw tightening and the corners of his mouth twitching. “So do I, like you said, Our schedule. Really, it’s no trouble! I’m sure you’d feel safer in my home, anyway. No pervs, except for me of course.” He chuckles so boisterously that you almost think he’s genuinely joking. You start to nervously chuckle with him when he leans his chest against the chair, his face sneaking closer to yours. “I’ll even get us breakfast on the way to school. C’mon, Y/N…that’s an offer too good to refuse.” 

So you don’t. You find yourself driving to Satoru’s ridiculously expensive penthouse in Tokyo on a Tuesday morning, in your best workout attire and a nervous fluttering heart. You had to admit yourself at the gate via pin, one that he bestowed upon you the other day in your classroom. The house sat atop a secluded hill, and even from the bottom of the driveway, you could see a bright light shining in these early hours of the morning. It seems that he wasn’t lying, he really did work out early. To most, it may seem a bit extraneous to work out on top of training and running missions alongside being a teacher, but it was something that cleared your head in the mornings and allowed you to take some peace in your day. Though it seemed that idea was far abandoned. You park your car and stare at the expensive home. You knew the Gojo heir was loaded, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. He told you to just come in when you arrived, so you did, even though the house was shrouded in darkness, you squinted to let your eyes adjust, gasping when the light is flicked on all of a sudden, revealing a shirtless and blindfold-less Satoru Gojo leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. He was grinning, beefy arms folded across his well defined chest, all enticing your eyes to trail downward. You could only hope your eyes didn’t bulge from your head or that you were openly drooling at the sight of his carved out abdomen, easily sixteen indents rippling through his midsection. You had to shift your weight, thighs rubbing together without even a word. 

His grin grows and his eyes shine brightly, the chlorinated-pool gaze of his zeroing in on your skimpy little outfit. Your sports bra barely contained your chest, and by the way those yoga pants got sucked into your ass…you weren’t wearing any underwear. He licked his bottom lip, pointing behind him with his thumbs. “Good morning, Y/N! Gym’s this way, I’ve been waiting for you to get started.” 

“Good morning Satoru.” You gulp, approaching the staircase. You keep your eyes trained on the steps, unable to look at him for too long. He stifles his chuckle as you grow closer to him, his form partially blocking your way on the steps. He likes to make you nervous, so he doesn’t move out of your way. He stands his ground, humming excitedly when your bare skin brushes against his. 

“Oh Y/N~” He coos seductively, enjoying the blush that creeps up your neck and colors your ears. “Right this way. What type of workouts do you like? We can do anything! Yoga, weight training, cardio, you name it, sweet lady.” He says, the upbeat tone of his voice making you feel like he knew something that you didn’t. He shows you into the room that was already well lit. Your eyes do bulge from your head this time, his home gym was the size of your entire home. He snickers at your reaction, strolling ahead of you and sitting on a bench press chair. He holds his arms out, as if telling you to behold the beauty. “Welcome to the Gojo Dojo.” He jokes. 

You snort a little, nodding as you step into the room. “You know this is bigger than most people’s houses, right?” You ask indignantly, letting your bag fall from your shoulder and into the floor as you survey all the equipment, weights, and mats Satoru had at his disposal. 

He nods proudly. “It can’t be helped, really. I give to charities!” 

You giggle at his defense, shaking your head as you make your way over to a few stretching mats spread out for the two of you. He watches you of course, wondering if you were impressed by his facilities. He can’t help but admire your physique as you set your water bottle down. He hadn’t ever been so enamored before, not even when he really tried to be into other people just to stop thinking of you. You were perfect. Mind, body, and spirit. You really didn’t need to work out at all, and he certainly hoped you weren’t doing it to lose any weight…my god you were absolutely delici—

“Satoru? Did you hear me?” You ask, waving your hand in front of his face with a soft laugh.

He shakes his head. “No, I was fantasizing about how good you look.” He admits without shame, blinking his focus back to your looming frame in front of him. Even when he was sitting, you were only a few inches taller. He lets his eyes skirt over your frame, smirking without pause. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you’re sure you just didn’t hear him correctly. “R-right. I was thinking I’d do some stretches,then work my core. What are you gonna do?” 

He wants to say something else clever to fluster you further, but he decides to take the passive route. You should be able to feel how bad he wants you at this point, his incessant attempts to get you alone, the way he nags you at work and blows your phone up with memes and reddit posts he wanted your opinion on should all be enough aside from his very obvious flirting. Anyone else would have given up, taking you for not being interested, but Satoru knew you better than anyone. He knew that if you weren’t interested in him, you’d say so. You wouldn’t just widen your eyes and brush him off, you must think he’s joking.

Which is why he’s wanted to get you alone for so long. If only he had some one on one time with you, then he could be as bold and vulnerable as he may need to be to win you over. That would come later, for now, he had to let you complete your workout. He nods at your agenda, thinking of the next step in his own routine. 

“Chest. Watch and weep.” He winks, and you quickly turn your back to him to go to your mat. He was too much for you, as anticipated. You could feel your body warm, and you knew he would see it if you turned around. What made you think you could make it through a workout session with Satoru when you could hardly stomach him being in your classroom with no supervision? He just chuckles at you. Maybe his affection was just a bit overwhelming for you, you couldn’t discern if he was messing with you or not, and didn’t want to embarrass yourself in any event. He supposes he could understand, if only you weren’t so stupid. You were the only person he held on a pedestal, the fact that you couldn’t understand how much you meant to him at this point was bordering on clinical insanity. 

He stands up to put his weights on the barbell, not bothering to conceal his watching you. You could feel it, but you figured it would be more embarrassing to stop and confront him over it. So you just continue, folding in half at the hips to touch your toes. He sighs at the sight of your round ass, your poor excuse of a sports bra nearly betraying you here, your fat tits almost spilling out into the floor. He packs the 45 pound plates on, four on each side, clearing his throat loudly. He doesn’t miss the way your head snaps up, shyly averting your gaze once you realize he set a trap for you.

You lay on the mat, you start with some leg raises, tilting your head back far enough to watch Satoru lay back on the bench. He hums to himself, feeling along the bar for his best grip. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts the 405 pounds without any of the effort you’d expect to see from such a heavy weight. He hardly even grunts, though you notice the sweat start to bead on his forehead  as he sets into reps. You’re not sure when your legs fall down, but you can’t help but be mesmerized. The bright lights of the room make the layer of perspiration shine, his chest and abs glistening like he’d been coated in a layer of coconut oil. You bite your lip at the sight, trying to fight the naughty thoughts raiding your consciousness right now. He does eight, ten, twelve reps at that weight before he racks it again, grinning as he senses your eyes on him. He takes about thirty seconds as a little break, deciding to show off a little for you. He starts another set, maybe forcing a few grunts to elicit a soft gasp from you. He’s sure you think he can’t hear you, but he does. He even hears the shakiness of your breath, though he denies himself the simple pleasure of looking at you. 

You’re a mess, and it’s horrifically embarrassing. He hasn’t touched you, he’s hardly looked at you, and he hasn’t even done anything inherently erotic, but you can feel your slick sliding down your thighs as we speak, and your nipples are hardening under your bra, which of course doesn’t conceal a thing. You watch him lift without doing any exercise yourself, embarrassed by the way he works you up without doing a thing. 

“Impressed by this strength, little thing?” He sighs out in between reps, finally racking his weights and standing up to remove them. He smirks at you, trying to pretend like you’ve been doing bicycle kicks the whole time. You’re effortlessly seducing him, just by being here and wearing that. He feels like he’s trying so hard to get your attention. Maybe this is all for naught, he thinks, wiping his face off with the towel hanging around his neck. He hadn’t even planned to work out today, mostly just wanting to be with you in every form of the word. He sighs out when you just groan out an ‘mhm!’ in response. 

“Okay..well.” Satoru says, his voice still pitched to be cheerful but definitely not to the same excitement you were used to hearing. It makes you pick your head up to check what’s wrong, you’re just about to speak on it when the words die in your throat. He’s slid out of his shorts, just standing there in his Hollister underwear, the ones with the short inseams. They make everything about him look even bigger, his broad thighs and long toned legs, and of course, his massive bulge. You nearly moan just from the sight, he’s literally walking sex and rubbing it in your face. “Since you’re noticeably not impressed or into me, I’ll.. stop embarrassing myself and go get showered. I can still take you to school if you want–I owe you breakfast.” 

Your eyes widen. He’s gorgeous, you’re sure you could wash your laundry on his stomach, the light coating of sweat covering his muscles made your mouth water—and what did he mean about you not being impressed or into him? Has he really been flirting with you all this time, and meaning it? You sit up quickly. “Satoru–wait.” 

He stops, the panic in your voice makes hope bubble up in his gut again. He turns on his heels. “Yes, Miss Y/n?” 

Now that his eyes are back on yours, you don’t know how to say what you want to say. How could you possibly put into words how bad you’ve wanted him for years, how you’ve yearned to be more than just the passing and whimsical friendship that you have. How could you tell him that you’ve desired him in your bed since the moment you met him, though how profound was that? Most people did. “I–I’m…well, I just, have…had..” You fluster again, looking down at the yoga mat you’d been laying on. He folds his arms, grinning at your bashfulness. Your confession was coming, it was on the tip of your tongue, he could feel it. 

“You’ve what, baby doll? Been tirelessly in love with me for years? Dreamed of me every single night?” He chuckles at your expense, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall just like he was when you came in. 

So that confirms it. That’s exactly what he wants you to say, what he needs to hear from you. He loves you, wants you more than anything. All his elaborate schemes and shitty pick up lines have been for real, and you’ve neglected them for years. You still don’t know how to communicate this need, this carnal desire you have to be his woman. So you don’t. You huff in embarrassment at yourself, at your inability to ever come outright and say how you feel. It’s going to be the death of you here, the reason you lose the man of your dreams. 

No. No, you tell yourself. If Satoru can be so bold with his declarations of desire for you, then you would return the favor. From head to toe, your body erupts into flames and your body moves on its own. You get to your feet, eyes trained on Satoru’s puzzled blues. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and shyly look away, sitting back on your knees once you stand a few inches away from him. You look up, blinking thick eyelashes up at him. Your hand reaches up for the waistband of his underwear. 

“I dunno how to say it. So let me show you.” You offer with a shaky breath, cupping the bulge that slowly grew before your eyes. 

It was his turn. His eyes widened in shock, though his hand found itself knitted in your hair immediately. The feeling of your soft and slender hand holding him over his underwear was only driving him crazier. He needed to have your touch, the real one. He nods, pulling your face a little closer. 

“By all means, darling girl. Show me.” His grin is growing closer to the devilish side. You lick your lips and nod again, tucking your dainty fingers under the waistband and tugging them down. You try to contain your excitement as his length slaps up into those gorgeously defined abs of his, but you can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you fail. He chuckles, your eyes widening in anticipation and your thighs rubbing together like you’re trying to start a fire. 

He was gorgeous, down to every ridge and vein decorating his perfectly arched cock. You were salivating, he was trimmed immaculately, just some short white pubes there to focus on. You sigh, feeling the heat pool between your legs at the same time you lean and reach up to grasp him. He lets a choked gasp go just from your slender fingers wrapping around his base. He has to consciously think about making himself look down at you, not wanting to miss a second of your beautiful face taking him in. You pump him slowly a few times, still taking in his massive length and the pretty bead of precum gathering at his slit. 

“Don’t tease now, god knows you’ve been doing enough of that for six years now.” He groans, pushing his hips forward so that his pre was spread all along your lips. He giggles at the obscenity of it all, and the way your tongue darts out to lick it all up. Goosebumps prickle along his flesh as you bat your eyes up at him and guide his shaft into your waiting warm mouth. He gasps softly at the feeling of your wet walls swallowing him in, the shocking way you swallow him down your throat was enough to have him fighting the urge to cum down your throat already. You were the girl of his dreams, and he’s been having fantasies of you on your knees like this for years. He groans as you start to move, his back falling more flush against the doorframe. 

You moan at his taste, willing yourself to take him all at once. The weight of him on your tongue was comforting and satisfying, and looking up at the way his face contorts in pleasure, you wonder why you did delude yourself for so long. His fingers gently scratch at your scalp, urging you further down his length, his load rapidly approaching at your gags. 

You let go of his base, forcing him down your throat even though tears spring to your eyes from the action. You move your hands to his hips instead, deepthroating all he had to give you. “Such a nasty girl, swallowing all this dick so good.” 

You moan softly at his talk, actually swallowing around him and choking just a bit. He loves it, the sounds you make and the eager way you bob up and down. “Y/N–I’ll cum soon if you don’t stop.” He warns, though you don’t take it as a warning at all. In fact, you only take it as encouragement to keep going, to make up for all the years you could have had together if only you weren’t so scared. You increase your pace, not minding the ache in your jaw as his hands slide down to hold your face. His features are all worth it, his mouth parted in pleasure, eyes scrunched tight as he fucks his hips into your mouth, pubes rubbing against your chin. His load is huge like the rest of him, the hot liquid sliding down your windpipe. He leaves his dick in your mouth for a minute, still grappling with the aftershocks of his nut, realizing this wasn’t a realistic fantasy of his and you were actually on your knees, sucking him dry. He grins down at you, knowing that your lives together were forever changed. You’d have a while to sort that out, all he cared about now was returning the favor, making you feel as good as you just made him feel. His hands gently stroke your cheeks, and you slide off him with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes never left his, and he couldn’t tear himself away either. 

Your heart pounded in your ears, and you knew this meant big changes for your previously platonic relationship. “Pretty girl, god I’m so glad you did that…let me make you feel good too, please?” He asked, the whine at the end so desperate you could hardly believe Satoru Gojo was begging you to eat your pussy. 

“I–I’m sweaty, it’s not as bad for dick..” You giggle shyly, unable to look at him and say such a thing. 

“I have a shower. C’mon. We have time.” He wiggles his brows, stepping out of his underwear entirely. His hands pull you back to your feet, keeping his hold on you as he directs you to the shower.

[mickyschumacher]

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Silly idea me and my friend had with sagau, sahsrau and possibly sawuwaau(??)

But like, what if, due to your consciousness essentially merging/being connected to the MC more, sometimes stuff gets a lil funky and you start seeing things you shouldn't

Like yk, ghosts 😇🙏

I recommend strapping in because these are gonna be three flash fictions into one + having lots of talking lol

(more utc‼️)

For example, in a fic style:

"Hey, are you gonna eat your food, Traveler?" Paimon asked, looking worriedly at the distracted visage of her friend. "Something on your mind? You can always tell Paimon what's on your mind!"

They shook their head, eyes looking at the person who stared at them and their companion. Eyes unblinking, appearance overall disheveled and aged.

"That guy's been staring at us the whole time we've been eating," they replied, eyes switching over to Paimon in a barely contained distressed fashion. "It's almost worrying me."

"What guy?"

Paimon silently asked again, "What?" when her friend looked at her so incredulously.

"You don't see him?" they asked again, now worried beyond belief. The last time Paimon saw them like this was when they fought Arlecchino.

"Traveler, I think that's a ghost we're both seeing," the voice inside his mind pointed out, trying to calm their mental state. Right, they forgot the Creator was a part of their mind now.

And as the voice just predicted, one blink and that figure was gone, the Traveler seeing its shadow scurry into a corner of the restaurant.

The door chime rang out and in a cyan and a blue haired boy entered the restaurant, another blue haired girl following right after. Right, Chongyun, Xingqiu and Xiangling.

The ghost must've scurried off when it sensed Chongyun nearby. Well, at least that put an end to their distress.

——————

LIKE THE AMOUNT OF DISTRESS WHEN THE MCS SEE A GHOST FOR THE FIRST TIME

it'd be so chaotic, especially hsr's mcs bc good god they're already so adhd coded

You could think of them going through it like:

"Woah woah, what's got you all terrified, Trailblazer?" March 7th asked, a worried Dan Heng embracing them when they accidentally bumped into him trying to run away from something.

The Astral Express were quickly informed by them personally that they've been seeing ghosts and all sorts of spiritual apparitions that don't normally appear physically like heliobi, but seemingly living people that were doing normal things or otherwise.

It all started around the time they also figured out that the Creation's consciousness had somehow taken an interest in the Trailblazer, latching onto their body and making the Stellaron inside them a bit restless, unstable.

"It's... I saw Cocolia at the Administrative District," they said, panting from exhaustion. The story sounded so unreal, with how impossible it sounded, but with how broad the Creation works nothing was truly impossible.

"She was looking at Bronya shopping and talking to the people, always un-staring." March patted their back in assurance, joining Dan Heng in sitting them down onto the red couches in the Parlour Car.

"When I came closer to see if she was real, she whipped her head around so fast with the scariest look on her face!—"

"It's okay, Caelus Stelle Trailblazer, she can't reach you here," the choir of voices erupted in their mind, the chirping of birds and clinking machinery in their tone momentarily calming them down by a substantial amount.

"Well, it's a good thing ghosts can't get into the Express because that means she can't hurt you here!" March exclaimed, Dan Heng having to resist rolling his eyes at the obvious but letting her reassure them nonetheless. Dumb, dumber and dumbest— the trio wouldn't be complete with one of them missing.

Then, the cabin's speakers erupted in an all too familiar voice. "Attention, all Astral Express crew members! Dinner is ready, so please hurry over to the kitchen cabin and join me and Welt to eat here!" The Astral Express's Conductor excitedly exclaimed over the mic, never failing to make the three smile from their infectious enthusiasm.

"Well, we were supposed to find you and Himeko for dinner but it looks like Pom Pom beat us to it again," March said, jumping up from her seat with her hands on her hips.

"Last one to reach the kitchen cabin is a rotten egg!"

"Hey, no fair, you got a head start!"

Dan Heng sighed at the two's shenanigans yet again, slowly getting up from his own seat as the two raced over to the cabin. That Aeon truly knew how to control and manipulate the emotions of a being to THEIR liking, and he even felt it wash over him earlier.

He'll need to observe it more before adding another entry into THEIR dedicated part of the Archives.

———————

This one was a little confusing to make into a scenario but it's what my eepy mind came up with on the spot :p

Now for our dearest Rover, it's a bit difficult to make it make sense, yk? Mostly because Tacet Discords shapeshifting into people is canon (if people actually paid attention to the lore), much less actually fitting the lore of this seemingly interplanetary eldritch being into the world of Wuthering Waves in the first place lmao

Maybe we could be the galaxy eye we see in the first cutscene, as well as the one when Abby (the lil echo that appeared after the Dreamless fight) and Rover being together

But this is all me yapping about a whole other subject— related, but not the one we're diving into right now

Getting back into the subject though, this is how i think it'd go:

It was another bright, sunny day at Panhua's Restaurant, the scent of delicious food wafting through the air as always. Rover, Yangyang, Chixia and Jiyan all sat around a table, with Abby floating around all plump and full.

"Say, Rover, didn't you say you had something to say for us today?" Chixia inquired, stacking and overall making the empty dishes look cleaner and neater.

"Yeah, just a strange sighting I saw near Desorock Highlands," they replied, putting a deft hand on their chin as if to think back on the memory.

"Me, Jiyan and The Black Sun were conversing like usual when we came across groups of people near the Tacet Field where the Thundering Memphis usually dwelled," Rover recounted, unconsciously pulling the leash that was attached to Abby's collar closer. "Some were laughing with eachother, acting as if most groups weren't crying out in agony."

"Aren't those just Tacet Discords that have absorbed lots of human frequencies?"

"No, there was something more... alive to them, besides the fact that the General himself couldn't see them," they replied to Yangyang, letting the leash go as Abby went back in their Tacet Mark with one last burp.

"Even when I went closer to them, they didn't attack me, more or less ignoring me entirely."

"Wait, who's this 'The Black Sun' you're talking about Rover? Is there another echo inside of you?" Chixia jumped up to ask, startling both Jiyan and Rover.

"The Black Sun is what you may have seen when you first found Rover and ventured back to Jinzhou, just as I did so as well," the General explained, waving over to Rover's direction in an attempt to explain this name to both ladies. Yangyang nodded and Chixia let out an "Oh," in understanding.

"I will admit, seeing them not react to us at all looked a lil' unnerving," the voice inside their mind stated in a breathy voice, unclear like a cloud of smoke.

Though the voice had no body and claimed that they weren't an echo like Abby, only really being able to be heard clearly when they're dreaming, it often provided support whenever it could— unlike a certain someone.

"I've already sent the proper human resources over to investigate the matter, the only thing left to do is to wait for results," Jiyan said, already standing up when he saw the bill arriving.

The three simply nodded in thanks to the General, knowing full well he'd insist on it till his last breath. And when he came back to the table the subject had already changed into another, more or less silly one.

Well, at least everyone was enjoying themselves.

———————

I didn't have much for the last part like i said, and it's more filled with dialogue, but it's better than nothing

Please do tell me if I missed anything or said something totally wrong!!

Now, is this an excuse to push my sahsrau fic more? ... mmmmaayyybbeee 😇

[himegureisu]

Hiii! Just got home from a horrifying midterm exam. It went horrible, none of the questions were even in the lesson plan. Although it did give me an idea for this request :')

It's practically universal knowledge that Snape is a 'terror prof' (iykyk) at Hogwarts — his standards are high, he's very particular with essays and it's practically expected that every major exam, tears will be shed in and out the classroom with the amount of curveballs he throws at you.

(I'd feel like he'd be the type to have a True or False exam with choices like: True, Partially True, Partially False, False, and if none is applicable write the correct answer and all of it is situational)

He's married to the reader and they're both teachers, so they help each other on their loads. Much more efficient that way. One night after a particularly hard-hitting major exam in the semester, reader encounters tear stains and snot and a few drops of blood from a nosebleed on one of the exams (witnesses this once lol) and decided to confront him husband about it. Thank you! I hope this isn't too specific ;w;

Questions and Answers

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

A/N: I'm sorry you had a horrible exam day and thank you for preventing me from pulling my hair out of frustration because my Notion page was not cooperating when this request came through. I hope you enjoy this! 💖

——————————— 🪄———————————

“Severus, darling, why do your exam papers have at least two different types of fluids on them?” your fingers flip through the unfinished stack, your eyes scanning them.

This was the thirty-fifth test paper from his pile that you graded. His second-year tests were stained by a range of substances you curiously identified through a spell.

Did he truly not notice them?

“There’s a combination of either snot, sweat, tears, or,” you paused, taking one of the papers you already graded, to present to him. His dark eyes highlighted by the round reading glasses made for a rather attractive sight but focus, “On the rare occasion, blood,”

“Oh,” he simply said, looking up at you, “And?”

“Is that all you can say?” you frustratedly run a hand through your forehead as you sit on the edge of his desk causing him to stop, “What are these questions even? It’s a major exam for second years, not OWLs or NEWTs, Severus. My head hurts not only from the answers but also the questions,”

“If they can’t answer then they’re not competent enough to proceed to the…” his sentence undone by the beginning of your ramble, an attempt to explain why his methods were not feasible.

“Can you imagine the physical, mental, and emotional drain that major exams cause to students? You can reminisce on your time as one if it helps but it’s not good and then to be brought to this level of inquiry as if they were taking a mastery,” you explained, “There isn’t even a 50-50 chance to get the answer right only 25 because you decided that it would be better if there would be four very similar but distinct answers to the multiple choice questions and not a chance of redemption for those who don’t know the question if the said answer is one they needed to correct. I can better understand your students’ frustrations from this version of your exams,”

“To adjust the exam would mean that there would be a lower level of understanding…”

“That’s the point though since they’re just building the foundation of what they know for potions!” you exclaimed, “If it were a muggle game, Severus, it should be easy, medium, and then hard but your exams are hard, hard, and then hard on every level. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but…”

“Sev, imagine this,” you sit on his lap, cupping his cheeks for him to focus on you as you say, “Imagine a child, our child, a little boy or girl coming home to us in tears because of a similar test that they’d taken on that day,”

“It would be different. They would be ours,” he grumbled, pulling you in closer to bask in your warmth, “We wouldn’t teach them to be like that,”

“Sev, just imagine!” you sighed exasperatedly, his face buried beneath your chin, “Your little girl coming home in tears crying for us wanting a hug because of an awful exam day,”

His breathing was in sync with yours, trying to understand your reasoning. His imagination slowly conjures a little girl in your image. Her face was stained with big fat crocodile tears, a snot-filled nose, and books slung defeatedly on her arm. His heart tightened at the image of it, protectiveness surging from within.

No one was allowed to make either of you cry.

“Can you imagine?” you softly asked, running a hand through his hair, as he mumbled, “Yes,”

“Can you change the way your tests are written?” you silently prayed that he would, he breathed in and faced you to answer, “Fine, and you’ll help me,”

“I expect as much,” you smiled.

As you were about to get off his lap, his arms quickly pulled you back and in doing so, caused the chair to stumble a bit from the force. His nose on your hair, breaths warm, and hug unwilling to let go.

“Sev?” you glance back to see his darkened gaze, “What is it?

“Do you want children?” he asked, it wasn’t something both of you discussed in depth before, “I realized that after four years of marriage, we didn’t elaborate on our expectations on that particular topic,”

“If we’re blessed with children, then I’m happy,” you informed, tracing the contours of his face. No matter how many times you’ve seen him it’s like there’s another new thing to catalog in your mind, “If not, then I’ll be happy having you all to myself,”

“I don’t know if I want children,” he admitted, and you kissed his cheek, “We’ll get there when we get there, Sev, for now, don’t think about it,”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter

a/n Welcome to the tenth and final part. Do tell me if you think this should go on. I'm at the crossroads. Not too fully sure where to go on with this from here. These two have had a journey so had I. Thank you for everyone who tagged along. 🤍✨

warnings: nightmares, overwhelming feelings, past trauma, miscommunication (should have been a warning from the start lol).

Parts in cursive are flashbacks.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

How surreal is the concept of meeting someone and having them change your life forever? Finding a soul that radiates the same energy, or at least the energy that attracts you. Feeling drawn to them. Craving to bask in the warmth of their presence because it just feels right. Because it feels true. Because it feels safe. And you can't help it. No matter what. No matter the obstacles. No matter the fears. That person's soul is there, and all you want to do and think about is how you can't let them go. It was weird. Everything still felt so confusing. It was surreal at times when you would wake up in your old bed, cuddled up between the sheets that you both used to lay under. All the what-ifs and why-not, questioning the choice of staying. Choosing to grow and forgive to allow someone to stay.

Carmen walked through the door. A neatly wrapped package of food was in his hands. He started doing that a lot—bringing food home from family. And not just leftovers, not just something that someone didn't eat. A whole, fully intentional meal. The apartment seemed too silent, and at first, anxiety kicked in—that same anxiety of losing. But the dull light from the living room soon chased those thoughts away. And that's when he saw you. A knitted blanket over your body. Book in your hands, the smell of the scented candles filling the room. And then there were your eyes. The gaze that found him. And Carmen was smiling, soaking up the sight in front of him.

"You're home early", you said as Carmen quickly shrugged off his jacket. "Yeah, not much we could do today. Plus, I had a meeting with the doctor". You close the book, sit up, and allow Carmen some space on the sofa. "How did it go?", the past couple of weeks have felt pretty much like a daze. After an endless amount of tears and conversations, you agreed to move back in with Carmen. Marcus had flown back to Copenhagen alongside Luca. Meaning that you would have to pay for the place you had been renting on your own. And that wasn't an option because you were already tight on money. Was Luca excited to leave you alone in Chicago? No, he was not, but he chose to not fight your choice too much.

"Just be sensible", he said, "Both with your choice and yourself", you hugged him tightly. Letting go of your lifeline felt weird. It left you vulnerable. Fully exposed to the cold world around you. But you knew that you couldn't hide behind Luca forever. "You know that I love you, right?", he muttered, pulling away slightly. "Us against the world forever", you looked at him. Truly look at the man in front of you. The person who jumped in to save you so many times. Who took the hit meant for you. Who drove for hours to get to you. Who sat in the doctor's office with you. "Do you think this is a mistake?", you asked him, but there was no suggestive reaction on Luca's face as he said, "Listen to your heart and then consult with your brain just in case", you had chuckled at his words before you pulled away.

And now you are here with Carmen. Unsure of what status you two held. Partners? Lovers? Exes? Strangers? Sitting in the apartment, which had been clear evidence of Carmen's pain. The distraction painted the apartment in a heap of mess. "I didn't like it. I mean, I never do", Carmen ran his hands through his hair. "It still feels strange. But people... like, I don't know, do they eventually stop finding it weird?", he asked you. Considering that you both were in therapy now, recapping and running through your conversations with doctors was something you did a lot. Strangely, you found comfort in it.

"I don't think you do", you whispered after a moment. "Picture it like this. Does it ever get easier to tell strangers that something in your life fucked you over so much that now you need to see a doctor?", you both snickered, and Carmen moved to open up the boxed food. It felt almost as if you were roommates once again. Just differently from that time in New York, you didn't want one to move out. You were fighting to make this work. To keep one another. To grow the roots that would hold you together.

"How was the art gallery?", you looked up at him in a way surprised that he even remembered. "Exciting. They want me to work on a project with them", you said as if it was nothing. But Carmen's eyes were big, and you could feel true joy in them. "Wait! That's awesome. That's... I'm proud of you", he muttered. You watched him. His sparkly eyes now reminded you of the time he sneaked into an art tour you were doing back in New York. Asking just the right questions. Making the lazy tourists roll their eyes. But your heart had been so full. "I'm meeting with them this Friday for dinner", you said. "Maybe they'll change their minds till then", you shrugged, reaching for the pasta in front of you. "They won't", Carmen said, making you chuckle, "You don't know that", "I know that you're awesome", you sucked in a breath as you watched him for a moment. Letting his words truly sink in.

Carmen's been watching you for a while now. Not in a creepy way, though. He was just mesmerized by how someone was capable of looking so beautiful even while fast asleep. You two had decided to watch a show after dinner. He knew you wouldn't last long. You never did. Getting sleepy almost immediately. The distance between you two seemed astronomical, yet you were only a couple of feet away. Sat at the other end of the sofa. Carmen wished he could hug you. No, he would have settled for anything. But then he at least wanted to feel your body heat. Anything to let him know that this wasn't just all in his head. That you weren't just a cruel joke of his imagination. Carmen watched your eyebrows crinkling up—another bad dream, he thought. And within moments, even while still asleep, you looked so much smaller. So much more powerless as the demons lurking in the shadows took over. Carmen wasted no time scooting closer to you, his fingers brushing the hair away from your face. A scared cry left your lips, and it was as if Carmen's body was working on autopilot. His arms sneaked around your middle as he pressed his chest against your back, bringing you closer to him. Your fingers reach out to grasp his arms. "I've got you", he muttered, "You're safe here. I'll keep you safe". His face was nuzzled in your hair as he spoke. A loud gasp filled the room as your body jerked up, only to fall against Carmen's chest. You let out a shaky breath as you tightened Carmen's hold around you. Afraid you might fall. Afraid you might crumble if he lets go. "Stay", you whispered, holding onto him even tighter. "I was not planning on going anywhere", Carmen muttered, kissing your shoulder.

"I like the black plates. He, of course, has zero opinion until he suddenly has so many opinions that I feel like I will have a whiplash", Sydney said in frustration over the phone. You giggled slightly at how she never failed to call you every time Carmen got on her nerves. "Do the gray one and meet him in the middle", you suggest, dunking your brush into the paint before adding new strokes to the canvas. "Grey, they only have grey with blue", Sydney growls, "I give up". You drop the brush into the water jug. "You want me to come down? Look through it?", you ask her softly. You've been away from the restaurant ever since the fire. Well, not fully away considering that Sydney had turned to your daily reporter, but still. You hadn't put your foot down on that property. "I... You're busy. I don't want to bother you", she dragged out. "I'll be down in a bit. Hold the front line till then, Syd", you told her before hanging up.

It felt almost like a flashback as you made your way down to the restaurant. Flashbacks of your heading there with Carmy right after the funeral. The times you ran up and down the street for nearby deliveries. The times you stood outside with him, just holding his hands and breathing. The times you smoked outside trying to fight your own overwhelming emotions. You never hated the concept of the restaurant. Quite the opposite; it was an interesting little bubble. You valued Carmy's love for food, even if it wasn't your own. Well, a lie. You learned to love food from him.

"Okay, hold it like this", he said, standing right behind you and guiding your hands. Showing you how to cut properly. "Don't use the tips of your fingers to hold", he said, carefully moving your fingers to a proper position. "And then you do that fast shit? Chop, chop, chop", Carmy lets out a low laugh at your impression. Turning to kiss the side of your head, "Maybe no chop, chop just yet. Get used to cutting veggies like this first. The speed of it will come with practice". You made a sad face before saying, "You do it then; it's captivating", you handed Carmen the knife, resting your face in your hands as you watched him do his thing with a light smirk on his face.

Carmen was feeling his anxiety beating right into his ribcage. The people around him were too loud. Too demanding. He felt like the sounds around him were slowly suffocating him. Ruthlessly dunking his head under the water. Keeping him under even as his lungs ran out of oxygen. All he heard was Carmy this and Carmy that. It felt like one of those torture techniques where your libs were tight to different horses, each pulling you to all four different sides. Carmen didn't have answers to the questions people were demanding. He simply didn't know, and now...

"What's all the shouting for?", and that's all it takes. It feels as if everything around him dies down. His lungs now easily welcomed the air around him. Mind slowing down. He lets out a deep sigh as his eyes fall over your frame. Hair up in a messy bun, the one that he loved so much, with loose pieces framing your face. You have one of Carmy's old shirts on. There's a paint stain on it, and for some reason, that makes him smile a little. His salvation. His love. His home.

"My girl", Tina rushes forward, wrapping you up in a tight embrace. "It's been weeks; let me look at you", she cups your face, looking you all over. You can't help but smile at her. Without a doubt, you missed her presence during your weeks away. "You look pale as paper", she says, shaking her head. "I'll make you my mama's soup. I will get you back on your feet", At this point, you're almost convinced that her eyes will not leave you, no matter where you go. "It's not necessarily, Ti", you move to squeeze her hands, but she only huffs, "It's a must, Mi Nino. With a man like that you have to run around", she scoffed Carmy's way, but he only clenched his jaw. Choosing to stay silent. "I'll steal Carmen for a moment and then be out to help", you glance at Sydney reassuringly, watching as her hands full of plates sag at her sides, but you don't let yourself think about it much as you step forward, brushing your fingers against Carmen's wrist before dragging him towards the office.

"You're okay?", you breathed out once the door closed behind you two. It was silent for a moment. Just Carmen's irregular breathing. Your fingers were still intertwined with his, and from the grip Carmy had on them, you knew he had no intention of letting go. "It's just... I just... don't know shit", his voice was barely a whisper. You nod. "Talk to me about it", you mutter. His eyes find you. Talk. Such an easy thing, right? Not to your two lately. But you've both been trying. Trying to not only listen but also hear. See without being asked to. "Yeah, I think I can do that", he says, nodding his head. You brush your fingers through his messy hair, nodding alongside him.

When you emerge from the office, it's a solid hour later. You have sketches in your hands. The idea of the restaurant. Visuals for plating and a whole Pinterest board just for the restaurant vibe itself. Sydney is sitting by the table, her head resting on the surface. A lot had changed while you were away. The place had been closed. At least three walls were missing. There was a mold issue. But mole issues no more... You'll get to that eventually.

"Right, so he wants a classy, sophisticated look. Something that would be good for plating different dishes in", you plop your sketchbook to the table. Reaching for the plate closest to you. "And he couldn't just tell me that?", Sydney huffed, "How do you meet his brain waves?" You let out a chuckle. Oddly enough, you had learned to read Carmy's mind as if it was a book. "So what did he say no to?", you asked her once more. "Amm, let me see. Fucking everything", Sydney gives you a fake smile, and you bit your lip, suppressing a laugh.

With your phone on the side, the mood board opened, you glance from the plaits to the visuals. Quickly making a yes and no line. Sorting everything into different plating arrangements. Mixing pricier pieces with more affordable ones. Pulling up a color palette for different napkin options. Once you were satisfied, you drew your eyes back to Sydney, who stood there with her mouth slightly open. "That's some dark magic shit", she breathed out. "Be careful; it might turn you into a frog", you shimmy your fingers in front of her face before pulling her closer. "This is... This is perfect", her eyes scanned the table in front of her. "Get everyone to vote for what they like best", you suggest; "Carmy will like this", you point to the third option. The contrasting plate colors and clean-edged dishes were something that no doubt would bring him back to Michelin-class places.

You slipped outside for a quick smoke. Enjoying the little breeze of the evening. Needing a little moment to yourself. You breathed out the smoke carelessly before realizing that you were not alone. "Oh, sorry", you quickly chase the cloud away, adding, "You're okay?". The greenish-pale face was clear evidence of nausea. "Just... It's really warm inside", you only nodded in agreement. And then the silence falls, but the insane kind. The one that you know holds a lot of unsaid feelings. You try to ignore it but fail miserably, "Just say what's on your mind, Natalie".

The woman shakes her head. "I feel guilty", she admits, about the whole Claire situation". That name itself sends a shiver down your back. "Don't waste your breath on it; Richie already told me everything", you take another drag from your cigarette but blow out a smoke away from Nat, not wanting to make her feel any sicker. "I never had a girl friend in the family. Boys had been shit with ladies", she breathed out. "But then you came, and there were so many emotions, and I didn't know you, and maybe I got jealous", you turned to look at her once her words died down. "So... you decided to break me and Carmy apart because you were jealous?", you ask her. "Wow, this family is truly insane", you breathed out, shaking your head.

"I just needed someone familiar; we all needed someone familiar,", Natalie said, but you only shook your head. "That's very hypocritical of you. Carmy already knew me very well, may I add. You could have gotten to know me too". She falls silent for a moment. "Did Richie tell you about the letter?", she asked, not meeting your eyes. "What letter?", you breathed out. Nat nods her head as if reassuring herself before saying, "Michael wrote a letter. It didn't say anything about me and Richie besides the general love you all", she said, "But he mentioned Carmy so many times, and...", her voice died down. She looked like a frozen statue for a moment. "Your name was there too. Mikey felt like an ass that he won't get to meet Carmen's future wife. Won't get to tell you embarrassing stories. Won't hold your kids", those words make your own eyes sting. Breath hitching in your throat. You were not sure of what to say.

"I'm pregnant, you know, and he didn't say anything about my kids", she said through gritted teeth. She moved to wipe her tears away quickly. "Oh, Natalie", you said, dropping the cigarette to the side before stepping closer to her. "It was so fucking petty, and I've been feeling so guilty, but I just wanted something to finally be about me", she crocked out as more tears came rushing down her cheeks. You quickly embraced her, bringing her hiccuping body closer to your chest.

"I've never wanted to...", she cried, but you shook your head. "I was never here to take your space and take your brothers away from you. They both love you a lot, believe me", you reassured her. "You stood up for Carmy at the funeral. No one had been so direct with our mother... I just wanted", she whispered, and all you could do was nod because you knew very well what she wanted. Something that you too had been wanting for so long. Someone who could protect her. To always have her back. To turn into a shield against the harsh world around her. That's what Luca was to you. That's what you were to Carmen. "I'm so sorry", she pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes. "I know, Nat, and I forgive you", you muttered, brushing your sleeve over her damp cheeks, "Now come on, you'll get a cold here, and we need to get you something to drink".

Everyone had eventually gone home. But not before eating the soup that Tina had made while sitting on cardboard boxes together. Only now did you realize how much you had missed this in some way. The little gathering after the day. Something warming to look forward to. Sydney put Marcus on the phone, and to see his beaming face was one of the most rewarding things. You knew you had Luca to thank for that. For bringing back the passion and excitement that used to bubble in Marcus. Richie had pulled into a little side hug before he too stepped out of the place. "I'm glad to see you back", he muttered. You didn't say anything; you just squeezed his hand in return.

"What are you doing here?", Carmy's voice brought you back to the room. You had slipped away to look at the wall facing the entrance. A big white wall that was staring right at you. "Just looking", you muttered. Carmen sat down beside you, following your gaze. He didn't say anything for a while. The silence felt like a warm blanket. "You should paint this wall, or we could hand one of your paintings", Carmy said, and you quickly turned to face him. "That's the main wall", you breathed out. "Exactly why it should be painted by you. If you want to, of course", Carmen stated firmly.

He gazed at you, catching your eyes already on him. "You were thinking about it yourself, weren't you?", Carmen asked, knowing the answer right away when your checks went pink. "I was...but with everything", you breathed out, "It's weird because I love you so much, but I still feel like there are so many things that we need to rebuild".

Carmen reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips before kissing your delicate skin a couple of times. "There's no rush", he breathed out, turning the ring on your finger, "I know where I want to get to. I know what the final destination looks like". You crook your head to the side. Reaching up to brush your fingers through his hair. "Do you want to share?", you ask shyly. Carmy pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. "It's nothing complicated. You and me. That's all I need", he breathes out, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. You reached up, brushing your fingers across Carmy's cheek, and he instantly leaned into your touch. "I think I like that kind of future", you breathed out. His big blue eyes seize you once more. And there's a shy smile on his face. "You do?", he asks, and you nod your head. You run your thumb over his lips a couple of times, and then he's brushing his lips against your own, and it feels like the first time all over again. The same heat rushes to your cheeks. And it's nothing but slow love that you can promise each other now. Patient love that grows alongside you both. One that doesn't put labels. Just promises to keep you both warm. All you need to do is to promise to hold onto one another.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[wannabehockeygf]

You All Over Me - Auston Matthews

“‘Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean,

I’ve still got You All Over Me.”

Pairing: Auston Matthews x fem! oc Word Count: Currently 8.2k

Pairing: AM34 x Social Media Manager fem!oc

Warnings: alcohol, smut later on

Notes: (***) indicate chapter change, (---) time skip within chapter, or a seperation from a post or messages. Italics at the beginning of the chapter indicate who's 'pov'(not really cuz we're in third person) we're looking at. BOLD LETTERS LIKE THIS during chapters (excluding posts/the first word of the entire book) indicate location. Locations within Toronto will be more specific, outside of Toronto will be vague.

Story will be continued on my wattpad (same handle) and here, but should prob follow my wattpad because I won't announce new chaps here lol.

***

Toronto.

A place of endless opportunity – bright lights everywhere, bustling city streets, and the sinking feeling in one's stomach when realizing each of the 6 million people in the GTA have their own lives.

It's humbling, truly. Sitting on the subway, heading to a destination, one can't help but wonder about the people around them.

Thoughts don't often dwell on it, but that girl with the pink hair and the septum piercing? She just found out her dad is sick. The guy with the navy blue baseball cap? He just got promoted at work.

Sometimes she wondered if people look at her and wonder what her story is. What brought her to that moment, being in the same place as them.

She doesn't know if they do, but it brings her a sense of normalcy. Weirdly enough, it's one of the only things that makes her feel human when in doubt. Everyone is just trying to get by, right?

And sometimes, that can be especially hard - at least in her case right now.

Moving across the country had never been on Blair's radar until about 4 months ago. She had just finished her first year of law school after sustaining a season-ending, and career-ending, hip injury competing in figure skating last year.

As a little kid, she always wanted to play hockey, but her mom pushed figure skating on her, saying it was more 'feminine.' She didn't like it all that much, but it consumed her life so much that when she lost it, she didn't know what to do with herself.

So, when it blew up in her face, she decided to deny it and work towards making her communications bachelor's degree worth something in law school. Problem was, she hated it.

It drove her mental health into a ditch, and by the time she was finished, she was a shell of who she used to be - and who she used to be was broken too.

She didn't want to live like that anymore.

So, she finally broke things off with her long-term boyfriend, which she probably should've done earlier, and left. Left Vancouver behind to start a new life across the country - in Toronto.

Her music boomed in her headphones as she looked up, seeing that they were at the station she needed to get off at. Standing up, walking off the subway, she climbed up the stairs and faced the unfamiliar streets once again.

She had just come back from a job interview and was heading home to her tiny studio apartment in Trinity-Bellwoods. The job, which required navigating the trenches of Toronto public transit, was at Scotiabank Arena - working for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Coming from a fan perspective, she had been a Canucks girl her whole life, growing up in Vancouver. But this position of social media manager paid really well, and she wasn't letting team bias get in the way of putting some weight in her pockets.

Seeing the ice could be a little irking for her, sure, but it's not like she was being put out there with a puck and a stick and nothing else other than a pat on the back. She'd just be responsible for the social media platforms. Can't be that hard, right?

They said they'd get back to her within two weeks, and now the waiting starts.

***

Blair

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair shoved her face into the badly drawn map the information desk attendant had given her for directions. It really wasn't helping.

"Right... here?" she mumbled, taking a sharp turn without looking up and bumping straight into a firm chest, dropping the paper.

Startled, she let out a little squeal before stepping back to see who she had just run into. "Sorry!" she said, meeting the gaze of a blue-eyed man.

He smiled brightly at her. "All good," he replied, crouching down to pick up the paper and furrowing his brow at it. "What even is this?"

Blair let out an awkward chuckle, moving a lock of dark brown hair away from her face. "A... map? Sorry, I'm just so turned around here." She paused, swallowing hard. "Do you happen to know where I could find a... Brad Treliving?"

"Sure do," the man said, folding up the paper. He seemed about to give it back to her before he held out his other hand for a handshake. "And you are?"

"Blair Hanson," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. This guy must be the happiest man on earth, holding a full-on goofy grin for the entire interaction.

"Nice to meet you, Blair. I'm Mitch," he remarked, freeing her from the handshake and handing her the paper at last.

"Mitch...?" she questioned. As little as she knew about professional settings, she thought you were supposed to introduce yourself with your full name, which 'Mitch' didn't do, if that's even his name.

Mitch laughed, surveying the skeptical look on Blair's face. "You don't know who I am?"

Who did this guy think he was? Blair blinked a couple of times, then pushed her glasses up her nose. "Should I?"

Mitch chuckled again, clearly amused by her confusion. "How new are you here, exactly?"

"Well," she started, crossing her arms, "Does it matter? Maybe you should stop expecting people to recognize you on sight. I mean, what are you, Mark, like, a fitness trainer or something?"

Mitch furrowed his eyebrows, his friendly smile fading slightly. "It's Mitch," he paused, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Mitch Marner. I play for the team."

Oh. Oh. Blair should have known that, shouldn't she? She felt her face burn up as she started to apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry! I'm just... very new," she admitted, her guard wearing down.

Mitch waved it off, his smile returning. "No worries. So, you were looking for Brad, huh? Big day for you?"

"Yeah," Blair said, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. "I'm starting as the new social media manager."

Mitch's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's awesome! You'll be handling all the behind-the-scenes stuff, right? Making us look good on Instagram and all that?"

"Pretty much," she laughed, starting to feel more at ease. "I'm still figuring out how I'm going to make a bunch of sweaty hockey players look good, though."

Mitch grinned. "Good luck with that. But seriously, welcome aboard. You'll do great." He gestured down the hallway. "Brad's just around the corner, I'll take you."

"Thank you, Mitch. I appreciate it," she said, falling into step beside him.

"No problem," Mitch replied, walking with an easy confidence that made Blair envious. "You'll find that everyone here is pretty welcoming. It can feel like a big family, especially once you get to know the guys."

Blair laughed. "Oh, sure. I'm sure I'll fit right... in." She trailed off, her eyes widening as Mitch pushed open a big double door. She first spotted the man she was looking for, Brad Treliving, standing at the head of a big conference table, along with the entire Maple Leafs roster seated around it.

She swallowed hard, standing frozen in place while everyone's heads turned towards her. Mitch placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, "This her?"

Brad Treliving looked up from the papers he was holding, a welcoming smile spreading across his face. "Yes, it is. Come on in, Blair."

Blair forced her feet to move, taking tentative steps into the room. If she wasn't nervous before, she was now, with every pair of eyes scrutinizing her. She offered a polite smile, trying to hide her nerves. "Um... Hi," she said, approaching Brad and standing beside him. "Is this... are we doing this here?"

Brad chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, Blair. I thought it might be good for you to meet everyone right away. This is the team you'll be working with closely, after all."

She swallowed again, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. "Okay, sure. Hi, everyone."

The players nodded and mumbled their greetings, some offering small smiles. Blair could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. This was what she came here for. This was her new beginning.

Brad gestured to a seat at the table, and Blair sat down, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. "So, Blair," he began, "We're thrilled to have you on board. Should we start with some introductions?"

She nodded, attempting to steady her breath as she glanced around the table. "Well, I'm Blair, as Mr. Treliving said, um..." She paused, fumbling with her fingers under the table. "I moved here from Vancouver a couple of weeks ago. I went to law school for a bit, and I used to figure skate competitively."

A chuckle came from somewhere across the table, and Blair's gaze shot in that direction. Her eyes met those of a tall, muscular, brown-eyed man as he stifled another laugh. "Figure skating, huh? No offense, but what do you know about hockey?"

Blair forced a polite smile, trying not to show her frustration. "None taken. I've been a Canucks fan my whole life, so, a lot more than you'd think."

A lot taken. It was like she had walked into a room with egos inflated to the max.

"Yeah, okay," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm as he adjusted his Maple Leafs branded ball cap. "Nice glasses, by the way."

Blair pushed her glasses up her nose, feeling a little self-conscious at this point, and she was about to respond before another man she didn't recognize spoke up. "Auston, lay off. It's not like she's getting on the ice with us."

Auston. That name rang a bell, she thought. Of course, Auston Matthews. Blair made a mental note to remember the faces and names, but for now, she just needed to get through this. Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back as he replied, "Says the one whose wife is a figure skater."

The other man, with strawberry blond hair, tensed up, gaining his composure before he met Auston's gaze. "And how many Olympic gold medals do you have?"

Auston smirked but didn't respond. The tension in the room was palpable, and Blair could feel her anxiety rising again. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to stay professional. This was her chance to prove herself, and she wouldn't let an arrogant hockey player get to her.

Brad cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. "Alright, let's focus, everyone. Blair is here to help us elevate our social media presence, and I expect all of you to cooperate and make her job easier."

The fact that the general manager was talking to the players like they were literal children made Blair tense up even further. This was going to be a long day.

--- 436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair's phone rang as she shut the door to her apartment. She fished through her bag and pulled it out, seeing her brother's name, and slid to pick up the FaceTime.

She was met with the face of her baby niece, and it instantly warmed her heart. Sometimes, she thought she regretted choosing this type of life instead of settling down and starting a family, but she always brushed those thoughts away. She wasn't ready to be a mother—being the hot, cool aunt was enough for her.

"Hey, munchkin!" she greeted her niece, her voice softening. "Where's your dad?"

Her niece giggled, the camera shaking as she toddled around. "Da-da!" she called, and Blair heard her brother, Sam's, voice in the background.

"Hey, Blair," he said, taking the phone from his daughter and giving her a friendly smile. "How are you? How's the city?"

The stress of the day slowly dissipated as Blair saw the familiar face that brought her comfort. "Yeah, it's... different. Bigger, for sure, but nothing a little walking around can't fix. How's everything back home?"

Sam laughed, adjusting Blair's niece on his lap. "Same old, same old. Lila just started walking, so that's been fun." His face lit up with pride as he talked about his daughter, and Blair couldn't help but smile. Someday, she hoped she had that too.

"She's getting so big!" Blair said, watching as Lila reached for the phone, her chubby fingers grasping at the screen. "And walking already? Wow."

"Yeah, she's a little terror now," Sam joked, tickling Lila's side and making her squeal with laughter. He turned back to the camera, and his smile slowly got replaced with a frown as he looked at Blair's disheveled state. "We miss you, little sis."

Blair took a deep breath, feeling a wave of homesickness wash over her. "I miss you guys too. It's been a crazy day. I'm just trying to adjust, you know?"

Sam chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, you've dealt with worse, right? Remember when that one coach at nationals—"

"Sam! Don't!" Blair squealed, not wanting to be reminded of that. Figure skating might have been her entire life, but it was also the most traumatizing thing she had ever gone through.

Sam waved it off, returning the conversation to safer waters. "Whatever. But you got through that, right? You can get through anything, Blair. Toronto ain't nothing." He joked, trying to offer her more comfort.

Blair honestly felt bad for people who hadn't experienced having a big brother because they were literally the best. He was her only one, yet his words could always bring a smile to her face. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Sam. I needed that," she replied, smiling back at him.

"Anytime," Sam said, giving Lila a kiss on the forehead. "Hey, if you ever need to talk, you know we're just a phone call away. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," Blair promised, feeling a bit lighter. "Give Lila a big hug from me."

"Will do," Sam said, waving as Lila babbled in the background. "Take care, sis."

"You too," Blair said, ending the call and setting her phone down on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, looking around her tiny studio apartment. The walls were still bare, and the only furniture she had was a small bed and a desk. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

A new start. Her new start.

***

Auston

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Auston Matthews was always straightforward with people. He thought that was a good quality, but recently, it seemed quite the opposite. His friends liked him, though, even though they butted heads sometimes. That made him not an asshole, right?

Through some light stalking, Auston had found Blair's Instagram the next day, and was actively scrolling through it, hunched over and everything while in the locker room. He didn't have shame doing it, because they might not have liked each other, but damn she was hot.

It started innocently, perhaps curious, when he searched her name at the gym the night before and saw that Mitch had already followed her. He even looked around before he tapped on it to make sure no one was looking, even though he was the only one there, and he'd been hooked ever since.

It was surprising that he wasn't drooling currently, as he was elbow-deep in her feed fifteen minutes before warmups. Mitch, who had been trying to hype the whole team up for their season home opener, frowned when he saw Auston didn't even glance up from his phone.

"Yo, Matthews!" Mitch exclaimed, trying to get Auston's attention. Auston glanced up, trying to find the source of the noise. His eyes scanned the room until they met Mitch's, whose eyes narrowed at Auston. "What?" Auston said, his tone annoyed.

"What?" Mitch mimicked Auston, mocking him as he rolled his eyes, "We have a game in fifteen minutes and you're glued to your phone. What's so interesting, anyway?"

Auston put his phone down on the bench as he started to put a glove on. "Nothing. I mean, nothing important. It can wait." He stated.

William Nylander, another one of their teammates, took the opportunity to snatch Auston's phone on the bench. He thought it would be an innocent prank to get him to flinch, but his face lit up when he saw it was still unlocked.

"Aw, you guys gotta see this," William said, quickly standing up and holding the phone out of Auston's reach.

Auston lunged for his phone, but with his gloves on, it was a futile effort. "Willy, fuck off and give it back." he snapped, his annoyance evident.

William grinned mischievously and darted away, holding the phone high. "What are you so worried about, Auston? Is it your secret mistress?" he joked, drawing the attention of a few other players in the locker room.

Mitch stepped forward, grinning at William's antics. "Let's see what's got our boy so hooked," he said, grabbing the phone from William's hand before Auston could protest.

The room fell silent as the players gathered around Mitch. Auston could only watch in horror as his teammates stared at Blair's Instagram feed. A few chuckles broke out, and Auston's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Man, she's cute," William remarked, nudging Auston playfully as he handed his phone back. "No wonder you've been glued to your phone."

Auston felt his frustration bubbling within him as he finally snatched the phone from William's hand. "I know she's cute, that's why I was looking at it, genius. No other reason."

"Whatever you say, buddy," Mitch said, rolling his eyes as he put his own gloves on, "No harm in trying anything, right? I mean, no rules are saying that we can't–"

Auston sat up from the bench quickly in his defense. "I'm not–" He paused, looking around to see that everyone's eyes were on him which made him decide to sit back down, "I'm not going to try anything, okay? I can do way better than some figure skater media manager or whatever."

The locker room fell into an awkward silence after Auston's defensive outburst. Mitch exchanged a glance with William before deciding to break the tension.

"Alright, let's get our heads in the game," Mitch said, clapping his hands to grab everyone's attention. "We have a season opener to win."

Auston kept his head down, focusing on putting on the rest of his gear. The other players started to shift their attention back to the game, the momentary distraction fading away. Auston could feel the weight of their looks, though, and he knew he'd have to find a way to get everyone to forget about it.

And he knew how to do that, precisely. He had to push away the subject – Blair – as much as possible, and that's exactly what he was going to do.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

austonmatthews: Thanks for the awesome home opener 💙🤍💙 @/morganrielly @/marner_93

♥ Liked by marner_93, williamnylander, and 73297 others.

Comments: marner_93: 🔥🐐💯

mapleleafs: Leafs nation has the PASSION

random: Auston one chance please

matthewknies: Arizona boys doing what they do best ↳ williamnylander: ice hockey...? ↳↳matthewknies: shhhhh

random: cup this ssn!? ↳ random: 1967

---

BAR DEM

"Another round?" William cheered loudly, urging his teammates on as he flipped his head of sweaty blond hair back. He was drunk – quite literally the entire team was as they celebrated their season opener win, and had what seemed like too many rounds of shots in the upscale bar downtown. Another one couldn't hurt, right?

Auston nodded towards William, approaching the bartender and placing his forearm on the sticky bartop, his credit card placed deliberately between his fingers. He waved over the young woman manning the bar until she noticed him, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she stood infront of him. "What can I get ya?"

Auston smirked, his eyes scanning the bartender head to toe. "Another round of shots for the best puck players in the league," he said, his words slightly slurring together at the end. He gave the bartender a wink before handing over his credit card.

Auston's inner dialogue, although absolutely plastered, was screaming at him to not do something he'd regret, but he decided to ignore it. The bartender flushed as she quickly pulled out the shot glasses from under the bar, then bent over slightly to grab the team's choice of tequila from the wall of alcohol. Auston's eyes, unfortunately, betrayed him at the moment but eventually found hers again. "What's your name, baby?"

The bartender's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she glanced up at Auston, her movements slowing as she poured the shots. "It's Natalie," she replied, avoiding his gaze momentarily before meeting his eyes again with a shy smile.

Auston grinned, unapologetically eye-fucking the bartender once again. "Nice to meet you, Natalie. I'm Auston."

"I know who you are," she said, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. Auston raised a brow, leaning closer to Natalie, "Really? Then who am I?"

Natalie's blush deepened as she filled the last shot glass. "You're Auston Matthews. Everyone here knows who you are," she replied, her voice steady despite her shyness.

Auston adjusted his ball cap, which he was wearing backward before he focused on Natalie again. Even while wasted, he couldn't lie – he loved the attention. "Well, it's nice to know I'm famous," he joked, his words still slurred. "When do you get off tonight?"

Natalie hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone was watching her too closely. She met Auston's gaze again, her blush deepening. "Couple of hours," she said quietly, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite her flustered state.

Auston grinned wider, sensing her interest. "Maybe you can join us for a drink later," He said, his gaze flickering to her lips for a split second, "We could... get to know each other."

Natalie bit her lip before rolling her eyes, "We'll see," She said, swiping Auston's card through the machine and turning the tablet around for his signature. He frowned slightly, scribbling on the screen before Natalie slid the tray of shots toward him, "Have a good night, Mr. Matthews."

Auston opened his mouth to reply to her, but before he could, Mitch yelled from their booth and waved Auston over. "Auston, stop hitting on the bartender and bring us those shots, would you?"

Auston rolled his eyes at Mitch's interruption but grabbed the tray of shots and made his way back to their booth. The rest of the team cheered as he approached, slapping him on the back and grabbing their glasses.

"I had this grreatt idea, Auston," Mitch started, right after he downed the shot the second he got it, "You've got the hots for our new media manager right? Well... I have her number!" He slurred, the alcohol clearly hitting him as much as anybody else.

"Okay?" Auston replied without missing a beat. He had an uncanny ability of being able to look like he didn't care about things, even if he did, and this was one of those times. "Why? And... how does this affect me?"

"I'm a nice guy, I make it my personal duty to get to know everyone on staff," Mitch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper despite the loud music and chatter around them, "And, how does this affect you? Come on, you were looking at her pictures with more passion than you play our game, Tone."

Auston's jaw tightened as he sat back on one of the worn-out leather sofas, "I don't want anything to do with that prissy 'businesswoman'" He scoffed, using his fingers to make mock quotations.

Mitch rolled his eyes, talking louder this time. "Well, here's your one chance then. I've got Blair's number right here," he said, pulling out his phone and waving it teasingly in front of Auston.

Auston hesitated for a moment before snatching the phone out of Mitch's hand, his fingers fumbling on his own phone screen as he copied the number down. Yeah, okay, he might've absolutely detested the thought of actually being with someone like Blair, but casual, no-strings affairs were his specialty.

After he was done, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and handed Mitch's back. "There. Now fuck off and let's have fun, yeah?" He said, to which Mitch gave him a smirk back.

***

Blair

PRIVATE MESSAGES 2:43 AM

???: I got your number babe Cnt fuckin believe he gotb to yous before meeee Gna tell his wife lmaoooo Im sooooo fuckshng wastped rnight nkowww I took thnis grl hime Can't stolp thisnkinf aboust u thouglh Need a girl likes u in my lifne

8:01 AM

Blair: What? I think you have the wrong number And, word of advice, never drunk text someone ever again.

436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair woke up to her alarm. She squinted at the bright screen and saw several messages from an unknown number. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to make sense of the jumbled text, feeling a mix of confusion and annoyance. Who would send something like this at such an ungodly hour?

Setting her phone back on her nightstand, Blair groaned and rolled out of bed. The small studio apartment felt even tinier in the morning light, but she had no time to dwell on that. She had her first full day at work ahead of her, and she was determined to make a good impression despite the rocky start with the team. Or, atleast, with a certain person.

She had been in Toronto for about a month now, and it felt as if she hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since. The sooner she got more comfortable with her new place, the sooner she'd be comfortable in her new life.

She quickly showered, dressed in a professional yet comfortable outfit, and made herself a quick breakfast. Her phone buzzed again, and she reluctantly picked it up.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 8:32 AM

???: Oh fuck My bad Right number tho This is Auston Matthews

Blair: Did you even read what you texted me? Completely inappropriate. Who gave you my number?

Fivehead: Look, I'm sorry. Was pretty wasted last night. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable Or whatever Read 8:34 AM

Fivehead: Mitch did. He was also pretty drunk

Blair: Asshole.

Fivehead: What?

Blair: What?

Fivehead: Me or him?

Blair: Him.

Fivehead: Oh, so I'm not an asshole?

Blair: No, you too.

Fivehead: You can't just call me an asshole

Blair: Who's stopping me?

Fivehead: I could get you fired.

Blair: You wouldn't do that. I thought you said you needed a girl like me in your life?

Fivehead: Better stop talking before I actually do it.

Blair: Make me.

Auston's typing bubble came up for a few moments, then stopped, but his reply came a couple of minutes later.

Fivehead: Whatever you say Cya in a few, princess Or would you prefer "your majesty" ? Read 8:42 AM

--- SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair hunched forward in her office chair, the clacking of keyboards around her becoming more irritating by the second. She was told she would have her own office, but today, since renovations were going on, the general manager sent another woman to share the space with Blair.

The red-headed woman who went by the name of Jess was nice enough, but she was so focused that it drove Blair nuts. I mean, seriously, in the three hours they'd been at work, she hadn't stopped typing - other than when she would take sips of her strong-smelling herbal tea.

That's why when someone knocked on the door, Blair immediately shot up, thankful for a sound other than that goddamn keyboard. She quickly scurried to the door, passing by Jess who was unbothered by the distraction.

Blair opened the door to see Auston Matthews standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin on his face. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took a step back, crossing her arms, "Can I help you?"

Auston's grin widened as he took a step into the office, closer to Blair. "Thought I'd come say hi. You know, our last interaction wasn't all that great."

Blair raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "And texting me at 2 am drunk off your ass, trying to fuck me is what you consider 'not all that great?'" She replied, using her fingers to make mock quotations.

Auston's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, adopting a more serious expression. "Okay, I get it. I was an asshole, and I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

Blair rolled her eyes, "I don't think I can after that string of texts," She said, walking forward to back Auston out into the hallway. She shut the door halfway before continuing, "Do you need anything? Or are you just here to distract me."

Auston chuckled and rolled his eyes back. "Yeah, actually. We need you downstairs. Something about an on-ice interview for TikTok?"

"Are you serious? I have to get on the ice? I don't even have skates." Blair remarked, slightly panicked. Auston, oblivious to the discomfort he had caused, motioned for her to follow him. "We're a hockey team. We have extra skates for everyone, come on."

Blair reluctantly followed Auston downstairs to the ice. There, she found no other players or people at all, just a selfie stick with a company phone lying by it on a bench. She turned to Auston, quite practically fuming at this point, "Small budget, huh? And I have to interview you?" She said, to which he nodded, "You didn't mention that! You said-"

"These should fit, ma'am." An equipment person interrupted, holding out a pair of white hockey skates.

Blair forced a smile as she took them and thanked the employee before turning back to Auston, "You really should work on your communication skills," she muttered, sitting down on a bench to put the skates on.

Auston smirked, leaning against the wall. "You're a fast learner. You'll be fine."

Blair rolled her eyes, trying to focus on lacing the skates, but she very quickly realized that these were very different to figure skates. She swallowed hard, not looking up as she struggled to figure out a way to make sure they stayed on.

Seeing her struggle, Auston sighed and walked over. "Let me help," he said, kneeling down in front of her.

"I don't need your help." Blair muttered, quickly angling herself away from where Auston had knelt down.

Auston chuckled softly. "You're not going to get far if you can't tie them properly," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. Blair huffed, realizing he was right but still not wanting to be in this situation in the first place. Reluctantly, she turned back towards him, allowing him to help.

Auston expertly laced the skates, his fingers moving with practiced ease. Blair watched him silently, feeling a mix of frustration and just straight up hatred. Once he finished, he stood up and offered her a hand. "Ready to go?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Blair looked at his hand, and then back up at him before completely disregarding his help and getting up on her own, although it wasn't easy in the new bulky skates.

"Always so independent, huh, princess?" Auston said, trying to hold back his laughter as Blair wobbled trying to walk out to the ice.

Blair managed to steady herself, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

***

Auston

YYZ - TORONTO PEARSON INTL. AIRPORT

Roadies - an inevitable event for a hockey player.

Usually, the Leafs schedule tried to make it so that they'd visit multiple cities during a roadie, getting it all over with and rewarding them with a long homestand, which is the way most of the players liked it. Today, though, they had a one-off trip down to Raleigh, just to fly back the same day.

Auston had decided to engross himself with his teammates today and pretend to be humble, flying on the team plane instead of his own private jet. He trudged on, a backpack slung over his shoulder and his dark hair sticking out of the beanie he was wearing.

Since he was running late, no one saw him at the terminal or even expected him to fly with them, so when he walked on everyone turned their heads. Mitch even shot to his feet, tilted his head in confusion, then finally waved him over.

Auston took a deep breath, hoping they would just talk normally, about the game or something, but braced himself for the inevitable other conversation as he walked down the aisle.

Mitch grinned widely as Auston approached, clearly eager to tease him. "Look who decided to slum it with the rest of us," he said, playfully nudging Auston's shoulder as he took a seat next to him.

Auston chuckled, shoving his backpack into the overhead bin and plopping down in the seat. "Yeah, yeah, I figured I'd give you guys the pleasure of my company for once."

Mitch's grin widened as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his eyes. "Pleasure, huh? More like a rare sighting of the famous Auston Matthews. What's next, you actually sitting with us on the bus?"

Auston rolled his eyes, adjusting his beanie. "Don't push it, Marner."

William leaned over the aisle, holding out his phone with a grin as wide as Mitch's. "This you?" He said, gesturing to the screen. Auston furrowed a brow as he leaned closer, but when he saw the Maple Leafs TikTok and a nicely manicured hand in frame along with Auston himself, he immediately looked the other way.

Auston groaned inwardly, realizing that the infamous TikTok interview had made its rounds. "Yeah, that's me," he said, pretending to not care as he slouched in his seat. "What's your point?"

William chuckled, pulling his phone back. "What's my point? Dude, are those hockey boots she's wearing? How'd you get Blair to do that?"

"Crazy thing, Willy, normal people don't carry skates around with them," Auston replied, his tone slightly annoyed, "She had to borrow them from equipment. No big deal."

William raised his hands in mock surrender, "Alright, don't kill me, but damn, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of her."

Auston scoffed, scratching his cheek. "Scared of her? What's there to be scared of, Willy?" He remarked with a passion. Auston, if asked, would describe Blair as many things, but 'scary' was not one of them."

William leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that she seems to have no problem putting you in your place?" he teased, drumming his fingers on the tray table, "I mean, seriously, who ever tries to put you in your place? I don't know why we haven't started calling you Mr. Ego yet."

Auston shook his head defensively, "First of all, ouch, and second of all, there's a difference between 'putting me in my place' and just being annoying and bitchy," He sat up slightly, his posture straightening, "And which one is she, again?"

William chuckled, clearly enjoying Auston's discomfort. He folded his arms casually. "Come on, Auston. You've got to admit, she's got you wrapped around her finger."

Auston scowled, his annoyance growing. "I am not wrapped around anyone's finger, Willy. She's just...holy shit." He suddenly said, catching a glimpse of Mitch's phone beside him.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

blairhanson_: last warm day ever :(

♥ Liked by han.samwich, marner_93, and 1072 others.

Comments:

random: holy

han.samwich: Come back to van pls, it may be rainy but atleast it doesn't snow

↳ blairhanson_: It's also a complete ripoff of a city I fear

↳↳han.samwich: Fair point, Canucks better though

↳↳↳ marner_93: Ouch

↳↳↳↳ han.samwich: MITCH MARNER ????

random: what a hottie, age?

williamnylander: make me look this good on the ice please

↳ blairhanson_: I will try <3

---

"Hmm?" Mitch said, straightening his head up from his phone, seemingly inconspicuous to Auston's reaction.

"Give that to me." Auston muttered, ripping the phone from Mitch's hand and holding it up to his own face. It was a simple Instagram post from Blair, nothing overly special, but Auston found himself unable to rip his eyes off of it.

It only took a few moments of Auston gawking at Mitch's phone before everyone burst into laughter, including other members of the team around them. "See something you like?" Mitch teased.

Auston felt his face heat up, but he quickly regained his composure, throwing the phone back at Mitch. "Whatever, man. Just checking her out. Nothing wrong with that."

Mitch caught his phone, grinning ear to ear. "Sure, Tone, sure. You're just checking her out for work purposes, right?"

Auston rolled his eyes again, slouching further into his seat. "You guys got me fucked up if you think I've never seen you checking out a pretty girl before."

"Yeah, but I think her eyes are up there," William remarked, looking over at Mitch's phone where the photo was still pulled up. He looked at Auston, then at the photo, then back before smiling. "You think she's pretty?"

"Fuck, I..." Auston facepalmed, running his hands down his face. He couldn't believe he was in a situation where his teammates were bugging him about a girl, at their big age. "She's not bad to look at, okay? Can we drop it?"

The laughter from his teammates finally began to die down as everyone took their seats. "Okay, we'll stop... for now." Mitch conceded.

---

RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA

The Leafs took a tight victory against the Hurricanes that night in Raleigh, with a final score of 5-4 in overtime and a surprising Auston Matthews hat trick.

Fans in the arena booed him as he left the ice, but he didn't care. Drenched in sweat, he trudged into the visiting locker room with a big smile on his face, his glove out to fist bump anyone who wanted.

Auston pulled his jersey off, and left in only his compression shirt and chest protector was given the belt by last game's MVP, Matthew Knies. "Good shit, Tone, let's keep it going back home," Matt said, giving Auston a firm pat on the back.

With a smile just as wide, Auston sat in his stall, belt thrown over his shoulder and the three pucks from his hat trick in his other hand as he posed for a photo. William, as the second star of the game, posed with him, putting an arm around Auston.

Later that night, on the team bus to the airport, Auston leaned his head against the window, watching the city lights blur by as he tried not to fall asleep. All he wanted to do at the moment was collapse on his bed and have his dog cuddle up next to him, but he'd have to wait a few more hours.

As his eyelids got heavier and heavier, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he shook the sleep out of him as he fished it out and brought it to his face.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 10:07 PM

Princess: No fucking way.

Auston: ?

Princess: Do I really have to post that?

Auston: What are you talking about?

Princess: *insert MVP photo*

Auston: Wow! Who are those handsome guys?

Princess: Is there one without the egoist on the right?

Auston: Sure But he wasn't the MVP Was he, princess? See the game?

Princess: I did. Can I have his number?

Auston: Willy's? Why?

Princess: He's cute.

Auston: You're cute.

Princess: What?

Auston: You can read, right? Plus I know you're just asking that to make me jealous

Princess: Not everyone's obsessed with you.

Auston: Sure. See you tomorrow Read: 10:12 PM ***

Blair TORONTO TRANSIT COMMISION - DUNDAS ST. WEST at OSSINGTON AVE

“I’m just wondering why he has your personal Instagram. I mean, isn’t he basically your client?” Sam asked, holding his phone up to his face while he sipped a frozen margarita. Blair’s entire family had decided to go on an impromptu trip to Cancun, and when she realized her work schedule interfered heavily she was devastated. So, instead of tan lines and sun-bleached hair, she was doomed to a gloomy November in Toronto. 

Blair was looking up at the directional signs as she tried to navigate her way through the busy subway station while her brother was on FaceTime. The 8 a.m. rush was definitely a real thing, and being in a new city turned her around even further, “You know he’s a human too, right?” Blair remarked, her eyes darting wildly around at the multitude of directions she could go.

Blair heard Sam chuckle through the one Airpod she was wearing, “Sure, but commenting on your posts? Doesn’t he have a wife?” He replied, his words barely audible over the rush of the station.

Blair sighed, glancing down at her phone for a moment before finding the right platform and walking towards it, “Yes, Mitch has a wife, but I don’t see the point. He’s trying to be nice, and he’s a lot nicer than some of the other assholes there.”

"Okay, okay," Sam relented with a chuckle. "But what about the other players? Are they really that bad?”

Blair adjusted her bag as she stepped onto the train, glancing around for a seat before giving up and holding onto one of the poles. “Most of them are fine. I’m talking about Mr. Rocket Richard every year.” She replied, her tone annoyed.

 Sam's voice crackled through the earbud in her ear, his curiosity unabated. “Who? Oh, Auston Matthews?” He asked with a chuckle, “I thought he seemed like a pretty nice guy, through interviews I’ve seen anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the dude puts on a real good media face. I would know.” Blair scoffed, shuffling in her purse to find a pack of gum, “I mean, seriously, I wish he could be genuinely nice for one moment in his sad-”

Suddenly, Blair felt a hand tug at her sleeve, and she quickly turned on the balls of her feet to, most likely, tell whoever it is who just touched her to fuck off. Blair was undoubtedly more bark than bite, but being skittish by nature didn’t help that fact. “Hey, how about you-” She started, quieting down as she met the eyes of the man who looked up at her from his seat.

The blond cracked a smile, then laughed. And what an addicting laugh it was because Blair’s heart immediately skipped a beat at the sound and found herself smiling back. “Rough morning?” William asked, sliding his bag off the seat beside him.

Blair felt a flush rise to her cheeks, partly from the surprise and partly from embarrassment at her earlier irritation. She quickly composed herself, sliding into the now-open seat next to William Nylander. "Yeah, you could say that," she replied with a small smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Sam’s voice came through suddenly. “Blair? What’s happening? Who is that?” He questioned, which caused Blair to not hear whatever William said next. “Sam, I gotta go,” Blair mumbled, her fingers fumbling against her phone for the hang-up button. She looked back at the blue-eyed man, leaning slightly closer to him, “Sorry, what was that?”

William laughed, once again, which Blair simply could not get enough of. “I always take the subway to practice. I like to blend in, plus, beats dealing with traffic.” He repeated as the train began to move.

Blair found herself more intrigued by William than she expected. She wasn’t actually going to try to get to know him unless it was to purposefully get on Auston’s nerves, but she immediately saw this as an opportunity to make a friend, and maybe get some actual action later on. “You never get noticed?” She questioned.

William shrugged as he scratched his cheek, which was already too stubbly for his liking. “Nah, not really,” He started, surveying Blair as she crossed her legs, “Who was that?” 

Blair quickly dropped her phone into her bag, not wanting any further distraction. “Oh, my brother. He was just… curious about how the job is going.” She said, knowing that it wasn’t the full truth but wanting to move on from the topic.

Unfortunately, William didn’t budge. “Ohhh,” He chuckled in realization, “You told him about Tone?”

Blair shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the question. She knew that they were friends and she couldn’t reveal much about her very strong feelings about Auston without offending William, so she offered something simple. “Oh, yeah. He’s been… difficult to work with.”

William snorted, outstretching his arm so it rested on top of the seat Blair was sitting on. “You can just say he’s an ass, no judgment.” He said, casually.

Blair’s eyes widened at William's straightforward comment. She hadn't expected him to be so blunt about Auston, especially considering they were teammates. Despite her own frustrations with Auston, she didn't want to badmouth him to someone who knew him personally.

"Well, yeah," Blair replied carefully, choosing her words. "He can be... challenging at times."

William chuckled, shaking his head. "Challenging, huh? That's one way to put it. Auston has a way of rubbing people the wrong way."

Blair nodded, relieved that William seemed to understand without her having to elaborate further. She shuffled in her bag for her water bottle, finding it and unscrewing the cap. "Yeah, you could say that. But he's not all bad. I think he means well... sometimes."

William raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "You think so? I think he’s just into you.”

Blair was in the middle of taking a sip of water as William spoke, and when the words hit her, she choked on it, a small amount of it coming out of her nose as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Woah, Blair, you okay?” William questioned, sitting up and placing a firm hand on her back. People around them in the subway stared as Blair wiped the wetness off her nose with her sleeve.

Blair coughed and cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure after choking on her water. William's concern was evident as he patted her back gently. She straightened up, angling her body towards William as she furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean he’s into me?” She said through gritted teeth.

William pulled his hand back, realizing his comment had caught Blair off guard. He glanced around at the other passengers on the subway, who were surreptitiously watching the exchange with curiosity.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," William said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "I just… Nevermind.”

The crease inbetween Blair’s eyebrows deepened as she leaned into William further, “Nevermind? You can’t just say that and say ‘nevermind’” She remarked, trying to keep her composure

William, once again laughed like he always did when he was uncomfortable and put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Hey, Bro code, I can’t tell you anything else.”

Blair stared at William, her mind racing with questions. She hadn't expected him to suggest that Auston might have interest in her, whether that be sexual or romantic or some other way - It was a notion that caught her completely off guard, and she struggled to process it.

"Bro code?" Blair repeated, her voice incredulous. "What does that even mean?"

William chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, I probably shouldn't have said anything. It's just... Auston can be hard to read sometimes, but I've seen the way he acts around you."

Blair frowned, crossing her arms defensively. "And what exactly does that mean?"

William hesitated, glancing around at the other passengers who were still discreetly watching their conversation. Outstretching his arm once again, he looked forward at the wall as he responded. “Okay, well, he looks at your pictures.”

Blair's mind raced as she processed William's words. Auston looking at her pictures? She hadn't even considered the possibility that he might view her differently than their professional interactions suggested.

"He looks at my pictures?" Blair repeated, her voice a mix of surprise and skepticism.

William nodded slowly, his expression serious. "Yeah. I mean, I've caught him a few times scrolling through your Instagram,” He laughed, the words keeping flowing without him noticing, “Like the other day, on the way to Raleigh, I was talking to him and Mitchy was scrolling his phone and saw your post. Auston grabbed that phone so fast, it was like-”

He abruptly stopped, swallowing hard as he turned toward Blair with a realization that he definitely overshared. “I… that didn’t happen. I just made it all up. April… fools?” He tried to lie, shrugging jokingly.

Blair stared at William, wide-eyed with her jaw dropped for a few moments before she took a breath, composing herself. “It’s November, Will,” She said, nudging him, “What the fuck? Auston Matthews? Really?” She said, more to herself than to William, but it was audible.

“Blair, please don’t tell…” William started, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Right then, the train stopped at a station, and Blair abruptly shot up, William’s arm falling limply to his side. “I gotta go.” She murmured, quickly stepping off at the nearest door before William could get another word out. 

As Blair stepped off the subway platform, she felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirling inside her. William's unexpected revelation about Auston had caught her completely off guard, leaving her reeling with disbelief and confusion.

She walked briskly through the bustling station, one she didn’t know at all, at that, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what William had said. Auston Matthews, looking at her pictures? Could it really be true? And if so, what did it mean?

Blair shook her head, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. It didn’t matter. Auston Matthews was the most rude, full of himself, selfish man and she would be damned if she let herself-

And then, she felt her phone buzz. As she kept her pace, walking in who-knows-what direction, she pulled it out of her purse, and it felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head at the notification.

New Follower: austonmatthews

***

SCOTIABANK ARENA

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Auston demanded, his hands gripping the smooth, polished leather of the chair's armrests. He took a deep breath, the scent of the office's faint cologne and clean air mingling in his nose as he exhaled. Meeting the eyes of his general manager, he added, "Sorry, language."

"Look, Auston," Brad began, his tone measured, "We're not asking you to do anything outrageous."

Auston furrowed his eyebrows, his glare piercing straight into Brad's soul. "Last time I checked, I'm an adult and I can be involved with anyone I want to. Surely you can't actually ask me to do this, right?"

Brad placed his hands on the mahogany desk, the rich grain reflecting the dim light of the office. He met Auston's intense gaze with equal resolve. "Actually, we can. This is an important event for our sponsors, and it's a 'bring your significant other' type of thing. We can't have you show up alone and hit on every breathing human woman there."

Auston gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration bubbling like molten lava ready to erupt. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms defensively, the leather creaking under his weight. "So, what, you want me to find someone to bring along as arm candy for the night? Just to make you and the sponsors happy?"

Brad sighed, his expression weary as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know this isn't your idea of fun, but it's important for the team and our image."

Auston scoffed, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "What makes you think that? Am I just some piece of meat?"

Brad sighed again, the sound heavy with exasperation. He picked up his phone, which had been sitting face-down on his desk, and scrolled for a few seconds before turning it around to show Auston. It was a video of him and a bartender from their post-season opener night out, sloppily making out outside of the bar.

Auston blinked, glaring at the video posted on Twitter by a fan. "Fucking hell, why did no one tell me that existed?" His cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat spreading up to his ears. The truth was that he regretted that night, but no one knew that but him.

"You have really good publicists, Auston. Most of it is deleted; this is just something they haven't gotten to yet," Brad replied, putting his phone back down with a heavy thud. "Do you see what I mean, though? We can't have something like that surface after such an important event."

Auston stared at Brad, a storm of frustration and resignation swirling in his eyes. The video on Brad's phone was a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions, even those moments he thought were private. He rubbed his temples, the pressure building like a headache.

"Fine," Auston finally relented, his tone begrudging. "But I'm not promising anything. This is just for the team's sake, not because I actually want to be there."

Brad nodded, his expression softening slightly at Auston's reluctant agreement. "I understand, Auston. Just find someone who can handle the spotlight and won't cause any drama."

Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back further in the chair and crossing his arms tighter. "Right. Because that's so easy to find."

Brad chuckled, though the tension in the room remained thick as fog. "You're Auston Matthews. I'm sure you'll manage."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Auston stood up from his chair. "Yeah, yeah. I'll figure it out." He turned and left Brad's office, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that matched his mood. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts, contemplating who he could ask to accompany him to the event. As he turned a corner in the hallway, his eyes still on his phone, disaster struck.

Out of nowhere, hot coffee splashed over Auston, soaking his shirt and causing him to yelp in surprise. He heard a squeak and then a thud as his phone hit the floor. "Shit, sorry, I didn't see you... there."

Blair looked up at Auston, her eyes wide with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. "What the fuck, Auston, watch where you're going?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Auston grimaced, his eyes unintentionally drawn to the lacy red bra now visible beneath her coffee-stained white blouse. He didn't say anything else, only glanced around to make sure no one else was watching before opening the door to a random closet and pulling them both inside.

Inside the cramped, dark closet, Blair immediately yanked her arm free from Auston's grip, glaring at him with a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell are we doing in here?"

Auston glanced around their tiny, dimly lit surroundings, the smell of cleaning supplies and dust filling his nostrils. "Look down, Blair," he hissed.

She followed his instruction, looking down at her stained blouse and realizing her bra was completely visible. "Oh fuck, holy shit!" she exclaimed, her voice too loud for comfort.

Auston glanced at the door, then back at Blair, his discomfort clear. And even though he tried to resist, the sight of Blair’s wet shirt clinging to her curves did nothing less than make him adjust himself awkwardly. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident. Do you have like, a jacket or something in your bag?"

"Close your eyes!" she squealed, feeling his gaze on her chest. "And, no, of course I don't today."

Auston squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away to give Blair some semblance of privacy in the tiny, dark closet. He could hear her rummaging through her bag, cursing under her breath. "Seriously, Blair, I'm sorry," Auston said, his voice muffled as he spoke through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to—"

"Save it," Blair snapped, finding a tissue in her bag and trying to dab at the stain, which did little to help. "Just my luck. Of all people to bump into—"

Suddenly, Auston put a finger to Blair's lips, stopping her from talking as he heard a noise in the hallway. "Shh, shut up for a second." He hissed, listening intently.

"Auston?" Mitch called, his voice getting closer. He crouched down to pick up Auston's phone from the floor, recognizing it from the distinctive case. He figured Auston must be around somewhere if he had dropped his phone.

Blair's breath hitched as Auston's finger rested against her lips. Her irritation was still bubbling just beneath the surface, but she kept silent, listening to the footsteps approaching the closet door. Auston kept his eyes squeezed shut, clearly aware of her presence as well.

Auston finally spoke, his whisper barely audible. "Ok, you've gotta have something to cover up with, right? Maybe—"

"Give me your hoodie." Blair said suddenly, so casually that Auston did a double take. "What?" he echoed, quietly.

"Your hoodie," Blair insisted, her tone firm. "Unless you want me walking around like this."

Auston blinked, his eyes now open despite the darkness of the closet. He didn't want that, eyes on Blair and her see-through shirt even though he had no right to say so. "I'm not—I'm not wearing anything underneath it," he tried to reason.

Blair's glare intensified. "Auston, I don't care. Just give me it," she hissed, tugging at his sleeve.

Auston hesitated for a moment, realizing the predicament he was in. He couldn't exactly walk around shirtless without drawing attention, but leaving Blair in her current state wasn't an option either. With a resigned sigh, he began to pull off his hoodie, the fabric rustling in the confined space. He handed it to her, trying to avoid making eye contact. "Here," Auston said, his voice gruff and his eyes still closed. "Just make it quick."

Blair took the hoodie, her frustration still simmering but appreciating the gesture nonetheless. She turned her back to him, slipping off her stained blouse and quickly pulling on Auston's hoodie. The fabric was warm, still wet from the coffee stain, and besides smelling like it, smelled faintly of his cologne, a detail she tried to ignore as she adjusted the sleeves.

"Auston?" Mitch called out again, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. Auston knew that Mitch wouldn't leave until he found him, and that made their predicament even worse. "Alright, Blair, just think," Auston hissed, "We've gotta figure something out. He's not going to leave."

Blair, now clad in Auston's hoodie, took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. They were in a tight spot, literally and figuratively, and the urgency of their situation was growing by the second. She crossed her arms, looking up at him, "Well, go out there then."

"Yeah, right," Auston chuckled quietly, waving a hand as if it was a joke, but when he met Blair's gaze he knew she was serious. "You can't be serious, right?"

Blair stared back at Auston with a determined expression. "Dead serious. I need to get out of here unnoticed, Mitch is not leaving until he finds you, and the longer we stay in here, the worse it looks."

Auston sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But you're... you're in my hoodie, Blair. If I walk out there shirtless, people will talk."

Blair rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Let them talk. It's not like they haven't seen you shirtless before," She paused, shuddering from the now cold stain on her shirt underneath. "What, you'd rather me go out there wearing your clothes?"

"No, of course not, I just-" Auston started, but he was cut off as Blair swiftly opened the door a crack big enough for him, hiding herself behind it, and pushing him out into the hallway before shutting the door again.

Auston stumbled slightly as Blair pushed him out into the hallway, his bare chest exposed to the cool air. Mitch quickly turned around from the noise, raising an eyebrow as he glared at the shirtless Auston that had just appeared. "Uh, hey, man, where did you come from? And why do you have no shirt on?"

Auston stood awkwardly in the hallway, his bare chest feeling uncomfortably exposed. Mitch's incredulous stare didn't help the situation either. "Uh, long story," Auston muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Just... spilled coffee and went to clean up."

Mitch's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. He crouched down, picking up the now-empty Starbucks cup from the ground. "This one? I didn't know you were one for sugar cookie oat lattes."

Auston glanced at the cup Mitch held, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't raise more suspicion. "Yeah, well, I was in the mood for something different," he replied vaguely, shifting uncomfortably under Mitch's scrutiny.

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Auston's explanation. "Right. Well, you dropped your phone." He said, stretching out his arm to hand Auston his phone back.

Auston took his phone from Mitch, offering a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Mitch. I've been looking for it" He tucked the phone into his pocket, glancing down the hallway as if considering his next move.

Mitch crossed his arms, still eyeing Auston suspiciously. "You sure you're okay, man? You seem... off."

Auston shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the uncomfortable situation. "Yeah, just one of those days, you know?"

Mitch nodded slowly, clearly not convinced but deciding not to press further. "Alright, well, see you around, I guess."

Auston's eyes widened as he saw Mitch take a step in the direction of the closet. "Mitch!" he blurted out, "Let's go get a coffee, yeah?" he suggested awkwardly, nodding his head in the opposite direction. "Spilled mine anyway."

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious, but he decided to go along with Auston's suggestion. "Alright, sure. Let's go," he replied, turning away from the closet and heading down the hallway with Auston.

As they walked, Auston kept glancing over his shoulder, hoping that Blair made it out without anyone seeing her.

to be continued!

[artdcnaldson]

hi boo, as promised, my dodge mason thoughts :))) i was cooking up a storm lol (its very long, apologies)

dodge mason… the cowboy that you are. i need this man more than anything. something about that man just makes me wanna be a sweet innocent christian country girl lol. this is much more cheesy and cutesy than my previous submissions, he just makes my knees weak fr (but also i need him desperately)

im attaching this (hopefully it works) cuz its exactly how i picture him here

alright, picture me this, youve just moved with your dad to this nowhere town in texas. you know no one here, theres nothing to do, youve already graduated high school before the move. its just summer, in a strange place, full of strange people.

maybe youre kind of a farmers daughter type? youve moved onto a ranch, your dad is really into rodeos and he gets you your very own horse. but hell if you know how to ride a horse that big. youd only ever ridden ponies when you were little. its sweet of your dad though, at least now you have a friend to pass the time with.

on one particularly hot day your dad decides that you should go into town a grab a cool drink and enjoy some shade. you settle on the cute looking diner, very fitting for a town like this. if you happen to notice the cute boy behind the counter you dont say anything about it. just steal a couple glances at him, maybe blush a little pink when ordering your shirley temple with an extra cherry. (tihi)

if he notices how pretty your flowy little sundress hugs your waist or sits on top of your thighs while sitting in the booth, he doesnt say anything either. he simply makes a mental note to find out your name, he's sure youre new, he wouldve remembered you if youd gone to the school senior year.

some time later he meets your dad at one of his rodeos (competitions? idk, i am not a country girl yall). spots him in the crowd, sees his opportunity to find out your name. they get to chatting, your dads all too happy to talk about you, his pride and joy. he happens to mention that youre wanting to learn to ride your new horse. dodge happens to offer his assistance. how can he resist an opportunity like that? theres truly nothing he would love more than teach you how to ride... a horse, of course :)))

when your dad had told you hed found a cowboy to teach you how to ride, you had expected another one of your dads friends. already made peace with the fact that it would be slightly awkward but ultimately worth it. but then he shows up, the boy from the diner. a cowboy, huh? definitely not what you were expecting. but hes wearing the boots and the hat, he certainly looks the part. hopefully he can play it too. (also i need him to call me darling and tip his hat, i need to have it)

you try your best to get to know him while he's teaching you, but he's not big on answering questions, instead redirecting them back to you. he does laugh, a beautiful, intoxicating sound, when you make a joke about his name being very fitting. dodging all your questions. (legit giggling to myself rn) he tries to tell you about the town, but he doesnt know much more than you, except this weird game he's heard people are playing over the summer...

he asks a surprising amount of questions about your life, you had pegged him as the quiet, stoic type when you first saw him at the diner. but this charming cowboy whos teaching you how to bond with your horse - because apparently its important for her to trust you before you start riding her - is a totally different story. when you invite him in for some fresh lemonade, hes chatting away with your dad about rodeos and all the places nearby he needs to visit. it wasnt at all what you had expected from him.

he starts spending a lot of time around the farm, teaching you to ride your horse, your dad inviting him to come for dinner, or really any excuse he can find to drop by. hes totally enamoured with you, he even feels a little guilty about it. youre so innocent and pure-hearted, he really has no business flirting with you the way he is. hes sure you cant even tell most of the time, that same sweet smile on your lips every time he speaks. totally unaware of the way his gaze lingers, eyes wandering, glued to your ass when youre wearing those damned blue jeans.

it takes you a long time to learn how to ride your horse, but eventually you get good at it. the day you finally succeed at riding around the farm without his help, you both dread that it might be the last time he comes by. but the next time he shows up on a horse of his own. tells you that he wants to show you more of the area, he takes you around, you talk for hours. simply just enjoying each others company.

the time after that you're already waiting for him outside, that morning you had gotten up earlier than usual, just to spend extra time picking your outfit, styling your hair, blushing your cheeks. this continues for a while. your dad starts to notice, youre acting like a little schoolgirl around him. dodge can tell, hes basking in it, he loves it. his compliments become more frequent and more intentional.

eventually your dad insists on bringing you to one of the rodeos, youre hesitant, youd rather not end up trapped in a long conversation with one of his old friends. but when you realize that dodge will be there, competing, you immediately agree to go. youve never seen him in his element like that. you make sure to wear his favorite dress of yours and style your hair just the way he compliments it the most.

its not like youre together, but you want him to know that youre there for him. to see him. and oh he knows. the second he sees you, he knows. ugh he can barely contain himself. youre standing right there, dressed up just for him, watching him in awe as he hang on tight to the rowdy horse.

need him to come out all sweaty and running high on adrenaline. picking you up and spinning you around, his pretty little thing, all dressed up for him, special for him. i need him to be so caught up in the moment that he put his hat on your head, kissing your cheek. luckily your dad had left with some buddies, because everyone at the rodeo knows what it means to wear a cowboys hat, everyone but you. you dont realize that hes staking his claim on you, making it clear to anyone who looks at you that you're his. not that you would have minded that part if youd known.

i need someone to make comment/joke about the cowboy hat rule, and dodge teaching you to ride, to which you enthusiastically, but oh so very cluelessly, mention that yes, hes been trying teaching you for a while now. but that youre only just starting to it right, something about it all being in the hips. i need you to look up at him confused when he just drags you away, mumbling something about that guy being an ass and promising to explain later...

what the fuck do yall know about my man dodge mason. my man my man my man. i havent stopped thinking about him since that fancam... i need to be the innocent farmers daughter who gets corrupted by the handsome mysterious cowboy, such a clique, but i need it anyway!!!!!

-🐞

NEEDHIMNEEDHIMNEEDHIM

This is soooo so sweet too like :(( he’s literally the only thing that makes Carp bearable :((

Just thinking about like having your first kiss with him like maybe a cute little picnic you set up in a little clearing hidden away from prying eyes 🥺

It’s all innocent and sweet— you made little sandwiches, and cut up fruits, and made him a pie. Little glass bottles of lemonade. It’s all so sweet, like you’d copied it off of an old movie.

And you’re talking his ear off and he’s so fine with that— he’s more of a listener anyway. Besides, you look so pretty with your hair in braids, a little sundress, glowing from the sheen of sweat on your skin.

He interrupts you mid sentence with a kiss, nearly knocking his teeth into yours. Your eyes stay wide for a moment, but you melt into him like butter. Its so chaste and sweet, but you end up on his lap and his tongue is in your mouth and his hands are palming your ass 🥰

#needthat

[mothwingwritings]

Basic Maintenance

F!Reader X Jack Hanma

Hello everyone! Back at it with a new (maybe old, as I started this forever ago lol) Jack piece! I suppose you could call this a personal piece, I began it purely as a way to vent as I myself REALLY fucking hate going to the gynecologist and I had a pending appointment at the time. So as any sane person would do when faced with having to do something they despise, I wrote this to cope! Who wouldn’t recreate a moment in time you despise, embellished to be much worse than it actually was by starring your favorite fictional characters being horrible so you can live out the whole ordeal all over again but ~sexier~?

Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy it!

No explicit sex, but due to the subject material this fic is 18+ please!

Warnings: LOTS of genitalia talk in this one, readers vag is truly the star of the show here. Also heavy talk about doctors and medical procedures, specifically a pap smear, so if that icks you please be mindful! Also within is noncon mentions/past noncon, unhealthy relationships, yandere themes, kidnapped reader, abused reader, spicy reader (you have a bit of a tude in this but honestly its warranted), some language.

“Do you really have to be in here for this?”

Your irritation grew as you glowered at the man leaning nonchalantly in the corner, looking completely at ease as his back rested against the sterile wall of the doctor’s office. Maybe ‘hunched’ was a more suitable way to describe his posture, his mass taking up so much space that his head grazed the ceiling of the compact room, forcing him into an unnatural position. Jack’s face was impassive, eyes tightly closed as his arms crossed loosely over his chest, waiting patiently with you for the doctor’s arrival. He was so still that if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yes,” came his gruff reply, bronze eyes cracking open to lock on to yours, “Now stop asking. It will be over soon.”

You sighed heavily, kicking your feet lazily as they dangled off the medical bench. It was a battle you had lost before it even began, but that wasn’t going to stop you from voicing your complaints. Jack let you be alone for all your other medical appointments, so you didn’t understand why this one needed to be any different.

You were naked save for the baggy, dusty pink, medical gown that had been left for you to change into. While Jack had insisted on being in the room when you changed, he had shockingly granted you privacy while putting it on, turning his large body away the entire time you were undressed. It wasn’t as if you had anything left to hide from him (your nude form was something he had witnessed countless times before), but you had mentioned offhandedly that there was something particularly irksome about his unwavering stare in the confines of a hospital room, a place that was supposed to be private and confidential, that upset you-especially when you had to undress. He must have actually taken those words in to consideration, which was honestly more than you could have hoped for.

You grimaced when you accidentally rammed your fidgety legs into the unfolded feet stirrups that were lying in wait. Though it hurt you made no noise, only frowning at the uncomfortable reminder of the procedure that would be momentarily taking place. Glancing over at Jack amplified the pain, and you wished that at the very least he would grant you privacy for the intrusive process that was about to take place. But wishing amounted to nothing, and so you were left waiting in a heavy silence with Jack not too far off, the pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.

The entirety of your life had become monitored by Jack, his ever present watchful eye making sure you were following the stringent rules he had set in place to keep you ‘safe.’ Safe from what you didn’t know, as you felt like little more than a prisoner the entire time you were in his care, locked in captivity with no means of interacting with the outside world other than what Jack deemed fit. Unsurprisingly, this turned out to be barely, if any, interaction at all. Due to this, your days had become a blur, each one resembling the next, melding into a mass of uniform discontent and boredom. All you had was Jack and the walls in which he had encapsulated you, all you had to look forward to was the hope that each day would somehow be a little less abysmal than the last.

However you had learned quickly that voicing too many complaints would only make things worse for you, leaving you to bite the bullet time and again in an effort to not set off this tyrant. If Jack was satiated, at least that meant you could achieve some normalcy in your daily life, even if it was just a crumb. Sacrificing your happiness and free-will had become the price you must pay to retain your sanity, to survive.

And now here you were, on one of his many forced check-ups that were scheduled far more frequently than was actually necessary. Your health had become his obsession, which you found rather peculiar given how much he seemed to disregard his own. Regardless, making sure you were fit and well was very important to him, much more so than looking after his own body. He poured himself into your maintenance with the gusto of a man whose life passion was fixing up old cars, making sure you were fine-tuned and running as you should, looking as pretty on the inside as the outside, it quickly became one of his greatest passions. After all, what was he to do if the love of his life fell ill with some mysterious wasting disease or ended up getting severely hurt? He refused to even entertain the thought of anything that could potentially end your life, and thus started going above and beyond to make sure you would be stuck with him for a very long time.

In all honesty, you usually didn’t mind the abundant health checks that much. It was a chance to get out of that god forsaken apartment he cooped you up in, and better yet, it offered rare moments where you could talk with other human beings without having Jack’s immense presence lingering over your shoulder.

But today was different. Today was the first time that you would be seen for something besides your normal check-up, instead partaking in a different kind of examination, one that was a bit more intimate than all the others previous.

Now that the two of you were sexually active (regardless of if that was something you had wanted and/or agreed to or not), Jack found it prudent that you start getting checkups that catered to those sexual proclivities. Thus, he wasted no time in setting up your first gynecological visit since he had taken you in, pleased with himself that he had the foresight to cover all of your medical bases. You guessed this new sudden fixation was his attempt to show you that in his own way he cared, that he wanted to do all he could to make sure you were healthy in every way you could be. But you also knew it was equally important to him to keep you in good physical condition from all the brutal fucking he had done to you, as you needed to be in one piece for when he continued to mercilessly ravage you in the future.

How thoughtful.

And when it came down to anything medical, Doctor Kureha seemed to be the only one Jack entrusted you with. It made sense to an extent, while Jack normally despised anyone but himself being in your presence, he was particularly adverse to people he didn’t already know. This went doubly for medical professionals that could very well be holding your life in their hands, he’d die before he let some unknown quack even breath in your general vicinity, let alone touch you.

But he knew Kureha and could personally vouch for his medical expertise, so in that regard making him your primary care physician was a no brainer. Deeper still, he could trust Kureha to not air his dirty laundry. The alarming signs of Jack’s passion that riddled your body would be a major red flag for any medical professional that saw them, and any outsider that spotted them would surely start asking questions the moment they laid eyes upon them. Only Kureha could be trusted to keep them mum, it was guaranteed. After all, if the good doctor even so much as made a suggestive comment to another person about the state you were in, Jack had more than enough dirt on the man to swiftly and efficiently end his career (and the muscle power to end his life, should it come to that).

Even with the questionable foundation of your relationship, you truly liked Kureha. You’d even go so far as to say that you considered him a friend, or at least as close to a friend as you can have under Jack’s suffocating surveillance. While going to a doctor’s office for any reason wasn’t particularly fun, you couldn’t help but begin to view the hospital where he worked as an oasis of sorts. It was clean, quiet, and within its glaringly white walls you could almost forget the nightmare your life had become, getting lost in the aseptic-ness of it all.

Kureha made pleasant company as well. You were weary of him at first, as it was hard not to be leery of any person Jack introduced to you. The fact that Jack willingly initiated an interaction between you and one of his associates was suspicious in and of itself, as prior to meeting Kureha he had never made any attempt to tell you about his friends, family, or anyone else that may be in his life.

When he explained that the person he wanted you to meet was a doctor, a specific image came to mind. Maybe they would be an older man, graying hair, kindly and smart. Picturing the mystery man as a fatherly type of figure made your heart hurt a bit, yearning for your own family that you had long since been exempt from seeing. These feelings also made you a bit eager to meet him, hoping to find comfort or camaraderie in this other person’s potentially trustworthy presence.

You certainly were not expecting the Adonis of a man who ended up greeting you.

The thing you recalled the most from your initial meeting with Kureha was how off-putting it was. His well-built, stocky body stood before you with an outstretched hand, his chiseled face framed in lusciously flowing auburn locks as his pouty, full lips offered a casual greeting. The polite smile that lit his criminally pretty face clashed heavily with the image you had pictured in your head, causing a brief moment of whiplash that left you speechless. The conflict between imagined and factual was so jarring in fact, that you nearly laughed out loud the moment you saw him, his strange presentation making you feel like you had wound up as the female lead of some kind of prime-time doctor drama. Appearance aside however, he was calm and mature, speaking to you like the intelligent adult you actually were, which was a breath of fresh air from the dismissive and childish treatment you typically received from Jack. Being in the presence of someone who treated you as an independent human had become a foreign feeling, but a welcome and celebrated one nonetheless.

As time passed and your visits to him grew more frequent, you began to see why Jack relied on Kureha so much. The doctor wasn’t just a pretty face, his medical prowess truly was top notch and he did an excellent job helping you monitor your health and kept you in good shape. His guidance and diagnosis were always spot on and easy to understand, and he had a way with words that made you comprehend his medical jargon without leaving you feeling like a dummy. It was by far the best medical assistance you had ever received, and you decided that should you one day be magically rid of Jack’s influence, it would be worth it to still seek out Kureha for any pending health concerns, even if it meant risking running into your brute of a captor.

But Doctor Kureha was not a gynecologist, and above all, he was a man. Why Jack, someone who was so painstakingly territorial of you, would pick a male to do this particular task was lost to you. Every OBGYN you had visited in the past had been a female doctor, and you honestly sort of preferred it that way. And though you voiced this to Jack, he remained adamant that since Kureha was already aware of your medical history, he was more than capable of taking care of this as well.

A nagging voice inside your brain kept telling you the REAL reason he was so bent on Kureha doing this procedure was to negate the risk it involved. Even if Kureha brought in another doctor who had reproductive health as their area of expertise, a doctor Kureha himself could vouch for that would keep their mouth shut, it was just too precarious of a situation for Jack’s liking. Any outside source that got up close and personal with your most abused area would realize instantly what Jack had been subjugating you to and their conscious could compel them to do something. The last thing Jack wanted was someone trying to play hero, and since Kureha had already seen the rest of the damage on your body and not said a word, it meant he was just as likely to stay silent when encountering the extent of defilement that had been inflicted on your more private areas.

You figured Jack and Kureha had some form of agreement between the two of them, that no matter how battered you came in to his office, nothing would be reported. You were not privy to the details of this agreement, nor did you know how formal it was. All you knew was that Kureha was always there to patch you up, keep you together, and offer a kind word or two, but he never made a move to try and remove you from the situation. No matter how perilous the aftermath appeared or how much your friendship progressed, he stayed in his lane and turned a blind eye to what mattered most.

So while you appreciated Kureha, you also realized you could never fully trust him.

“Well here we are again.”

Kureha’s entrance tore you from your thoughts, your eyes instantly darting to the stately man as he closed the door softly behind him. Looking as immaculate as ever, Kureha greeted Jack with a small nod before turning to you with a smile, which you reciprocated in kind. You couldn’t help but note the small scowl that sat upon Jacks lips, no doubt brought on by the familiarity the two of you shared.

“It’s good to see you again (Name),” he spoke as he made his way over to the seat beside you, waking up his computer so that he could access your medical records. “How long has it been? At least two days? That must be a new record.”

“Very funny,” Jack cut in, completely unamused by Kureha’s light teasing. He straightened his posture as much as the small room would allow, shooting the doctor a wry look. “We came here for a procedure, not your quips.”

Kureha sighed, “Of course, forgive me for trying to lighten the mood.” Turning his attentions back your way, he gave you another smile, “’Quips’ aside, how have you been feeling (name)? It really hasn’t been that long since our last appointment, was there anything particular that sparked the need for this visit today, or…?”

His voice trailed off, as he was already well aware this meeting was most likely not of your own choosing, but another of Jack’s heavy handed assertions. You squirmed on the medical chair, the protective paper beneath your rear irritating the bare flesh it came in contact with.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Jack spoke on your behalf.

“She is fine,” his words were clipped and to the point, “As stated, we came here for a simple procedure as part of a routine check-up. I think we would both appreciate it if you just got on with it.”

“Yes, I am sure you would,” Kureha scoffed, slight irritation reflected in his voice, “But I was not addressing you Jack, I was asking (Name). And contrary to your beliefs, she will have a more accurate synapsis of what is going on with her own body than you will.”

Jack huffed, puffing up his chest in indignation. But he remained silent, promptly shut up by Kureha’s firm statement. For that alone you could kiss him.

“I’m feeling alright,” you respond simply, “the same as always, more or less... I don’t mean to be rude Dr. Shinogi, but this time Jack is right. I am kind of in a hurry to get this over with.” You frowned, repositioning yourself on the crinkly paper seat once more. “These kinds of visits aren’t my favorite.”

A blush crept on your cheeks as you spoke the words, embarrassed by your own admission. As if this whole ordeal wasn’t invasive enough, you also couldn’t avoid the fact that this was one of your least favorite medical procedures of all time.  Spreading yourself open for the whole world to see, perched on an uncomfortable chair while you awkwardly draped yourself across its stiff foamy surface, feet held back in stirrups as a doctor scraped away at your insides haphazardly, none of it was an enjoyable experience for you. The mere thought made you want to clamp your legs shut and scuttle out of the office, bee lining it straight back to the train station. You never thought you would long for the solitude of Jacks stuffy abode, but there was a first time for everything.

It also didn’t help that Jack refused to budge, adamant he stick around for the whole procedure. Knowing that he would be in the room, looming in the background as he bore witness to the whole excruciating ordeal, just made it THAT much worse.

Kureha acknowledged you with a hum, “Well if it’s any reassurance, I plan to make this as painless and as quick as possible. I can’t imagine that any of this is particularly pleasant for you, so I can understand where your reservations are coming from.”

He turned to Jack, shooting him a knowing look, “And though I am beyond confident in my doctoral abilities, I would like to remind the intrusive party in this room that this particular request is not my area of expertise. I will be efficient and gentle with miss (Name), but I may lack the accuracy of an expert in the field. Disclaimer aside, I would appreciate it if back seat commentary is kept to a minimum.”

“As long as you don’t waste any time and do the job well, you won’t be giving me a reason to voice any complaints,” Jack’s clipped voice threatened, “Now, can we begin please?”

Kureha’s eyes met yours, “Whenever you are ready, place our feet in the stirrups. We’ll proceed from there.”

Taking a deep breath to ground yourself, your shaky legs parted, granting Kureha access so that the procedure could begin. His large hands guided your legs into the holsters with ease, and he shot you one last reassuring smile before he grabbed his tools.

“I’d offer you a blanket for some privacy,” Kureha’s kept his voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “But our guest made it abundantly clear that he wanted to see what I am doing at all times. I apologize.”

You gave a curt nod, acknowledging his apology as earnest, but also realizing the good doctor had done nothing but enable Jack’s uncouth behavior this entire time. Not that it mattered at this point, all you could pray was that he at least remained true to his promise of speed and efficiency.

“Just hurry up. Please.”

With no further prodding, Kureha set to work. You cringed as you felt cold steel begin to spread you, your discomfort mounting when his tools entered shortly after. Jack pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer so that he could get a better view of what was being done to your body. Bending down so he could monitor Kureha’s actions accordingly, you squeezed your eyes tightly closed, refusing to add Jack’s beady, unwavering stare to your torment.

As warned, Kureha was not as skilled in this field as you would have liked. His typically nimble fingers seemed to fumble with the tools in hand, the prodding and clawing at your delicate insides causing tears to spring to your eyes. In an effort to keep from crying out you bit into your bottom lip, gnawing at the reddened flesh to quiet yourself. However squeaks of discomfort still managed to slip from your throat, sharp intakes of breath punctuating his hasty motions. Sweaty fists balled around the gaudy surgical gown, tugging it so roughly you could feel the fabric give under the strain. A particularly rough jerk of Kureha’s hand sent a wave of pain through you, your whimpers becoming a full on groan. Reflexively your legs tried to snap shut, your body subconsciously trying to push itself as far from the doctor as you could get, inching up the table in an effort to escape.

“You’re hurting her.

Jack’s growl cut through the air, an edge to it warning Kureha to watch himself. Kureha clicked his tongue, shooting a quick look over his shoulder.

“I wasn’t joking about the back seat commentary,” he retorted, “I’m aware of her irritation, hence why I am moving as fast as I can. I would advise against distracting me further to make the process as easy as possible for her,” he sighed deeply, fixing his attention back your way, “Besides, from the looks of things down here it’s clear she has suffered worse. I would even hazard the reason it hurts her so bad right now is in no small part your fault.”

Jack snarled, intense anger radiating from his presence as he leered over the doctor. It was obvious Kureha’s words had cut deep, the unspoken rule that he never judge Jack’s actions easily broken by his barbed statement. Finally turning your attention to Jack, you grimaced as your squinting eyes watched him open his mouth, primed to release a fiery retort.

“I’m fine,” your sharp voice interrupted their banter, words strained as they were forced from your clenched jaw, “Please, please, just hurry up.”

Kureha’s expression shifted, a softer look flitting across his features as your plea dragged him back to the matter at hand, “I apologize (Name), that was childish way to respond, please forgive me. We are nearly done. Please just hang in there a moment longer.”

True to his words, after a few quick swipes (all of which when executed brought about varying degrees of soreness), the procedure concluded.  You had never been happier to close your legs in your entire life (and given your life’s circumstances, that was saying something).

“And we’re done,” Kureha exhaled, quickly clearing his tools away. He shot you a quick smile as he got to his feet, “You did very well, (Name). I’m sorry my touch wasn’t the softest this go-around, but I appreciate what a good sport you were through the entire procedure. You may bleed for a bit afterwards, which is quite normal. Though it may be hard for the two of you, try and lay off any strenuous activity to the area for at least a day or two, alright?”

A bright blush illuminated your cheeks the moment the words left his lips. Whether he meant them to be or not, they felt mocking and derisive, and hearing them left you feeling as if you were both an ill-tempered child who no one expected to make it through such a procedure with so little fuss, and some manner of sex-crazed harlot that couldn’t go a day without getting any.

“You sure love to talk, don’t you?” Jacks gruff voice chided, making it apparent that Kureha’s loaded words still bothered him. The air between the two of them remained charged with a bristling, negative energy, but with the ordeal finally over with, Jack’s rage was slightly beginning to subside. No doubt he was just pleased that he could finally take you home and have you all to himself. “Are you such an accusatory smartass to all your patients?”

“Just the ones I really like,” Kureha shot him a smug grin, causing Jack’s jaw to clench, “but I am serious. Definitely no sexual activity tonight and tomorrow as well, if you can stand it.”

Kureha reached out his hand, placing it firmly atop your head, giving it a small scrub. “And I mean it when I said you did well. I couldn’t have asked for a better patient! If I had a lollipop or something to give you right now to congratulate you, I most certainly would.”

He laughed at his own joke, but the sound of it only caused your ego to suffer more.

Curling in on yourself to hide your vulnerable state, you shook your head to dispel Kureha’s unwanted attention. Your words came out icy as you shot the two men an equally chilling look. “I don’t need hollow praise, I just need some privacy so I can change back into my normal clothes.” When both men refused to budge, instead staring at you blankly with wide eyes suggesting your frosty demeanor shocked them, you sighed in annoyance, “Please?”

Kureha was the first to comply, turning on his heel to briskly head towards the exit. On his way out, he motioned towards jack, signaling him to follow. “Come on Jack, it’s rude to make a lady beg.”

Jack hesitated a moment before following suit, his hulking form stopping momentarily in the door way to address you one final time.

“Just be quick about it. I want to get you out of here and back home as quickly as possible.”

Hopping to your feet, you made your way over to your rumpled clothing that sat discarded on one of the uninviting metal waiting room chairs. You rolled your eyes as you snatched them up, impatiently waiting for Jack to step away so you could finally get out of the thin gown that covered you.

“You and me both,” you murmured under your breath, stuffing your lower half into your pants as fast as physically possible, “If I never have to go through this again, it would be too soon.”

~

You were thankful that the train was nearly empty when you boarded it, making it easy to find a space in the back that was far removed from other passengers. Though you would typically revel in this opportunity to be amongst other people, right now the only thing you wanted was to be left alone.

The office was not terribly far from where you lived, so Jack usually opted to walk to the hospital instead of taking any transport. But today’s trip had worn you out and left you feeling sore and irritable, so while  he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of public transportation (too many eyes on you he’d say, even though it was his stature that drew the true attention), in an act of mercy he offered the train as a means of getting home. Of course he had offered to just carry you home first, but the look you gave him at the suggestion was enough to wise him up, bringing up the train as a happy alternative. Thankful to finally have a place to sit and enjoy some quiet for a moment, the tension in your body began to lessen, and you felt as if at least momentarily you could begin to relax.

… At least, you wished you could relax. Jack’s towering form, which was already a suffocating presence in and of itself, was even more smothering as he sat directly beside you. You were wedged in between him and the window, his broad shoulders and spread legs cramping your already limited space. If his bouncing leg and repeated exhales weren’t enough of a giveaway that something was bothering him, the muscled arms petulantly crossed over his chest and a deep set scowl on his face as he shot you numerous hurried glances really brought the fact home.

At first you tried to ignore him, but as the minutes ticked by it became clear to you he wasn’t going to bring up the issue himself, nor was he going to drop the matter and leave you be. This left you with no other choice besides confrontation.

“What is it,” the irritation was clear in your voice as you questioned him. “This whole adventure was your idea, and now it’s bothering you? If you hated the outcome so much, why make me go?”

“I didn’t hate the outcome,” he responded, shifting a bit in his seat as he cleared his throat, “It was a necessary procedure and I am glad we had it done. I’m pleased that you seem more or less healthy down there.”

You scoffed at Jack’s interpretation of Kureha’s assessment of the damage his ‘love’ had done to your body, a reaction he chose to ignore as he continued, “But still, I guess maybe I did have my concerns.”

“…Concerns?”

 You perked up, taken aback by his words. The way he spoke them sounded borderline remorseful,  as if being faced with the irrefutable proof of how violently he has treated you, witnessing firsthand the lasting injury his careless assaults have caused and the suffering that has come with it, began to open his eyes. Could he finally be feeling remorse? Could this day of suffering and embarrassment truly have ended up having such a silver lining?

Several agonizing seconds passed as you hung on baited breath, excited for the first time in a long time to hear what Jack had to say.

“It’s just…” His voice trailed off for moment, his expression contorting in a display of varying emotions, musing over how to word his response. After another brief moment of silence he continued with a sigh, tripping over his tense words awkwardly, as if he were embarrassed to speak them.

“It’s just that when he was working on you … Well, the expressions you made when he was going inside of you… They were the same ones you sometimes make when we are making love, so I was concerned maybe you were, you know… enjoying it.”

As you noted the barely perceptible blush that flushed Jacks cheeks throughout his explanation, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Internally screaming, you chided yourself. What a fool you were, thinking you may actually be receiving an honest apology from this man.

Anger began to creep over you, causing your body to slightly quake. You grimaced as his words stewed in your head, the absurdity of his misconception causing your world to spin. Of course you would be making the same expression when he fucked you as you did at the doctors office- the extreme and unwanted discomfort from either act was one in the same. Only an idiot like Jack would come to the conclusion that your face was contorted in a look of ecstasy instead of the agony you were actually experiencing, lying there spread eagle on the doctors table while you were being chiseled away at.

“No Jack,” you spat at him, seething words to match the daggers shooting from your eyes, “I did not fucking get off at my gyno appointment when Kureha was shoving clamps and other utensils up inside my body, picking away at my innards so he could get tissue samples. Sorry to let you down, but it wasn’t really my idea of a sexy encounter, asshole.”

As you were about to boil over with barely contained rage, you mirrored Jack by crossing your arms, doing your best to hold yourself together as you averted your gaze from him. Keeping things civil was tremendously hard, but you were smart enough to realize causing a scene in public would in no way help you right now.

After several moments of silence had passed, your eyes flicked to Jack’s reflection in the mirror, hoping to gauge his emotional state after your tempestuous outburst. He typically didn’t take kindly to your attitude, especially when it was coupled with name calling. Surely the venom you spewed wouldn’t be taken sitting down, and while the thought of an angry Jack usually terrified you, today you couldn’t make yourself care. In fact, you hoped your small tantrum HAD upset him, wanting him to feel a smidge of the pain he forced you through daily. You may not be able to ever harm Jack physically, but if there was one thing you did have power over, it was his feelings. Despite his tough persona, you were acutely aware that any malice you directed his way wounded him, causing him more grief than he would ever willingly state. And you suspected that this display of your lividity was the perfect attack to take him down a few pegs.

But surprise took you when your eyes landed on his likeness, seeing that instead of an angry glower or wounded frown, a content smile sat upon his lips. His tensed shoulders had relaxed, his entire posture now much more poised and at ease as he sat next to you. He even lazily draped an arm over the back of your seat, his fingers idily stretching out to play with any rogue strands of your hair they brushed against.

“Good,” he spoke pleasantly, “Glad to know I have nothing to worry about. I’ll just have to work harder next time to make you really lose yourself, so you can show me expressions only I will ever see. That way there will be no confusion in the future.”

Your frown deepened as the shit eating grin spreading across his lips grew. It seemed that this time, as always, Jack had won.

“Of course we’ll have to wait a day or two for me to hone my skill, which is unfortunate. But look at the bright side baby, gives me time to come up with some new ideas that will really drive you wild, right?”

God you hated him.

[sanaxo-o]

Back 2 You (Kim Sunwoo)

Too @o-onikix : happiest birthday to my ride or die, my Monica to my Rachel, my everything 🥺. I love you so so much and even tho I was not able to write for Wonwoo or Seungcheol I hope you like this little something I wrote for Sunwoo (which is totally not based on your character. Nope 👎). Again thank you for always being there for, you were literally there through it all (the days I was down, the time I was balling my eyes out and also when I was the happiest girl. It was truly only possible to be that happy because you were there by my side and it means a lot to me). I love how you’re always so protective of me and taking care of me through out all that has been happening nowadays:( I will always love you and cherish you. Thank you for always listening to me rant on and on about Chanhee and the detective from Revenant. I am definitely NOT gonna stop doing that anytime soon haha. Again a happiest birthday babes <3

Warnings/Genre: situationship to lovers, they make out even tho they’re ‘enemies’, Sunwoo is a football player (pls don’t make me say soccer. I will never say that) while the reader is a cheerleader, it is said that he is toxic but he didn’t really show it, reader very much day dreams about Sunwoo, fluff, mentions of alcohol, they make out in the night sky, angst (a bit), hurt comfort

Word count: 2,407

Sana: hellooooo, back with a Sunwoo fic because it’s my besties birthday. Wasn’t able to write much because of lack of motivation but got some energy on Friday and was able to finish it till Saturday so yay me lol. A huge thanks to @deobienthusiast @sohnric and @jinnieboosworld for beta reading (and thanks to bar for helping me with the grammar and stuff). Sincerely sorry to @from-izzy for not letting her beta 😂 but here it is <3

Taglist: @cloverdaisies @kimsohn @mosviqu @a-dream-bookmark @deoboyznet

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

It’s not like you hated Sunwoo (you did)–it’s just that most of the time that guy was just so full of himself, when in reality no one really cares about what he was saying (it was mostly him trying to flirt).

Sunwoo just had his own way of getting on your damn nerves just by a single smirk which makes its way to his face whenever he sees you in the hallways, in the class or even on the turf.

Typically, you wouldn’t mind his presence or anything. It wasn’t like you would be able to avoid him even if you wanted to.

Being the captain of the cheerleading team meant that you’d be practising on the ground while Sunwoo would be playing football (I mean, it’s not like you would steal secret yet frequent glances at him just to take a small look at him while he was busy playing. Of course not!).

I mean…of course, it’s kind of embarrassing (for you) if someone got to take a look inside your brain and all they would see are the fantasies you have about Sunwoo.

You find the fact that you’d like someone who’s just sooo cocky for their own sake that he just thinks that anyone who stares at him would go down on their knees, begging for attention or at least a glance from him, hilarious and hard to believe yourself.

But no, you were not like that. You were none of that, you were anything but that. You knew just how twisted Sunwoo was—I mean, of course you would… you were the one who was in the backseat of his car, making out with him when everyone was inside the house partying.

No matter how much you deny yourself, you cannot help but blush at the fact that you had made out with Sunwoo on numerous occasions.

Despite all of that you know that Sunwoo isn’t the one. Like the amount of times he had picked someone else over you made it clear that he is not someone who would be committed in a relationship (it’s not even like you were looking for a serious relationship yourself, but the thing is, deep down, you knew that whenever he would not prioritise you, you were of course hurt).

It's not even like you want to settle for the bare minimum, no! That is not who you are, but the times Sunwoo had taken care of you while you were drunk, the times he was there while you were at your lowest, really proved to you that he could be the one.

Only if you both were mature enough (and less egoistic) to realise your feelings for each other sooner, than maybe, maybe, you wouldn’t have been in this situation of push and pull anymore.

-x-

Heaving out a long sigh, you take your heels off as you sit on the footpath with regret and embarrassment.

Regret because you let some dumb fool take you out on a date a day before your birthday, and embarrassment for getting stood up like that.

If you would have known it would turn out like this, you wouldn’t have even agreed to this pathetic date. You knew he was just gonna use you like any other guy. That’s what guys do! But then again, you only agreed to this because your friends were forcing you to ‘live your life’ and to also move on from Sunwoo.

Their exact words would be: ‘Just get over Sunwoo.’ Like, when were you even under him to even get over him was the first thing to come to your mind; but then again…you did make out with him… maybe once? Or like twice (it was more than that for sure) but that’s not the case!

You were never even in love with Sunwoo to get over him or move on from him– they were just being ridiculous as always, was what you said to yourself.

But you knew better. You knew better than that, because of course, you always found yourself going back to him, no matter what the situation or state you were in.

And he was always there to cheer you up, or even just to make you laugh– even if it was just for a little while, that smile lasted you for a whole day.

That’s how Sunwoo was to you. Yes, he was an annoying jerk who was always full of himself and very much selfish, yet, he was also the one who was there for you when you needed him, no? I mean, yeah, he might have ditched you a couple of times, but what’s that gonna do when the amount of times he showed his support to you weighed more than the times he was being ignorant?

As a human, of course you would rather look at the bright side and the times where it was better than the ones in which you felt heartbroken or just…unwanted.

Now, that was also the exact reason why your fingers were automatically dialling Sunwoo’s number. Were you scared that he wouldn't pick up? Yes, but you knew he would. Because it was a rare occurrence for you to call him at this time of the day so he always made sure to pick up the call no matter what– that’s what you observed from him.

It was like an unspoken rule he had for you and only you. Maybe in that way you felt like you were special to him, because you both knew that he wouldn’t come running like that in the middle of the night for anyone but you.

“Can you come and pick me up? I will send you my location,” was all you said as you hung up on the call and sent him your current location.

You did not have to listen to his answer to know that he’s gonna come and get you, because you were more than sure that he will. That’s just how he is.

You stop looking down when you feel a presence standing in front of you. Slowly lifting your head up, you sniffle when your eyes make contact with the one who was standing in front of you, almost breathless.

“What’s wrong, hmm?” He asks gently while kneeling down, taking out a handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wiping the tears which were unknowingly flowing down your cheeks.

The tears were not there because of being stood up, but because of the fact that only now did you realise that you love him.

“Why are you so nice to me but you’re the same person whom I hate from the bottom of my heart?” You mumble quietly as you get up from the floor and hand your heels and purse over to Sunwoo, who held them without asking any questions.

Leaving him behind, you walk towards his car which was parked hastily, maybe because he was bad at parking (that’s a lie and even you knew that.). Entering the passenger seat, you look ahead with no certain thoughts circling your mind.

You just waited for Sunwoo to come in and drive away from here– and that’s exactly what he did, no questions asked. He knew better than to ask you anything about what happened.

With silence engulfing the two of you, you stare outside the window with some soft music playing in the background.

You could see Sunwoo’s reflection through the window– the way the night sky was shining its bright light on him andhis oh so fluffy hair which was a bit messy giving you the slightest urge to fix it for him, but you stopped yourself from doing so.

You stay quiet when Sunwoo stops the car by a small convenience store and leaves you by yourself to get something from there. You didn’t havethe slightest bit of energy in your body to even ask him what he was doing, so you just waited for him to come back.

The only thing which was on your mind right now was to go back to the comforts of your house with your favourite tub of ice cream (and a warm cup of coffee), laying in your bed as you watch your comfort film to ease your mind.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the door opening and see Sunwoo getting back into his seat with a plastic bag in his hand. You don’t pay much attention to him and just continue spacing out when you hear his soft, honey like voice again.

“Here.” That was when you realised Sunwoo was handing you chocolate ice cream.

Unknowingly, a small smile creeps up your face as you happily accept it with no further questions asked.

Just like that, Sunwoo started the car again as he drove off from there.

“You’re not in a hurry to go back home, are you?” He asks with his eyes solely focused on the road (with the occasional glances he was stealing at you, but we don’t talk about that).

“Why? You wanna take me out?” You ask teasingly as you take a bite out of your ice cream happily.

“Something like that… I wanna show you something.” You just stare at him when he says that and slowly nod your head. You trusted Sunwoo enough to know that he won’t do anything wrong, especially if you were there with him.

“Lead the way then, I guess.” You reply softly while finishing the rest of your ice cream.

“We’re already there, actually. Come out,” he says excitedly as he gets out of the car and goes to the front., Standing there, he waits for you to join him as he stares up at the night sky.

“The night sky is beautiful…” you say with amusement lacing your voice as you look up in awe.

“Right?” He replies back with a small laugh as he steals a small glance at you, “Do you… want to sit on the hood of the car? I can help you,” he questions softly while turning back to look at you.

Giving him a small nod, you yelp in surprise when Sunwoo lifts you up effortlessly and places you on top of the car.

After a moment of silence, you open your mouth to speak only to close it again, not knowing how to form the right words.

“Say what you want to say. I am all ears,” was all you hear from him as he keeps on contently staring up at the sky.

“Why are you doing all this?” You finally find the courage to ask him as you look down at your fingers, too afraid to look at the expressions he had on his face.

“Doing what? Being nice to you and only you?” He questions you back. There was no hint of teasing or mockery in his tone, yet, you kept on shyly playing with your fingers.

You stop playing with your fingers when Sunwoo gently grabs a hold of them. Looking up at him, you could feel your heart taking a small leap at the way he was so close, yet so far away from you.

He immediately turns around and points up at the sky, “You notice that one star over there? The most still and the clear one?” He asks before looking back at you. When you slowly shake your head, he looks back up again and continues. “That’s a North Pole star. It’s called Polaris and it’s known to be the constant star. It was used in navigation in old times,” he tells you before he hops on top of the car and sits beside you.

“What do you wanna say?” You ask softly as you stare at him in confusion. You did not know why he was talking in riddles like that, but it slightly amused you .

“I don’t want to be someone who is only there when you need me I want to be there when you’re happy, sad, or just… there. I want to be as constant as that star, Y/N. I might be ready to commit again,” he says softly as he takes your hand in his and kisses the back of your hand.

“What if you leave me?” You question him back. You were afraid that he might get bored of you and leave you– maybe that was one of the reasons which was stopping you from expressing yourself fully to him.

“What if I don't? I have been there for you even when we were sworn enemies… but then what if I am there for you not as your enemy, but as your boyfriend?” He explains himself before slowly inching closer towards you. “I want to be there for you Y/N, as your boyfriend and not just some guy you call when you’re in need.”

He says that as he slowly grabs a hold of your jawline,caressing it gently with his fingers while staring into your eyes. “Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks softly while stealing a small glance at your lips before quickly locking his eyes with yours.

When he sees the small glimpse of you nodding your head, he wastes no time and pulls you closer towards him, one hand still caressing your jaw while the other slowly creeps its way up your cheek.

You smile in the kiss when you sense the way he was being soft and gentle– unlike the times when you both had kissed before. This was different.

This kiss held everything which the others lacked– the soft, yet slow movements of his lips against yours as you slowly bring your hand up to his hair to entangle your fingers with the strands.

Pulling away from you, Sunwoo looks at you with a huge smile creeping up to his cheekbones. He goes back to his original position, licking his lips.

“You know what, Sunwoo?” You ask softly while your hands find his bigger ones to hold onto them.

Moving closer towards him, you place your head on his shoulder as you both look up at the sky, “I somehow always seem to find my way back to you,” you tell him with a gentle sigh escaping your lips.

You could hear a soft chuckle escaping his lips, which made you smile in return. “We are both on the same boat, then,” he whispers while placing his own head on top of yours.

[chynandri]

My Thoughts on Ratchet After 14 Years

This is nearly 5000 words of my analysis and impressions of Ratchet as a character (...there are pictures, at least 😃). I can't say I've been interested in any other character for this amount of time so - he truly is special to me. I wanted to externalize all I love and see in him in one post, more for myself than anything as I've held so many thoughts in my head for so long.

This is largely based on my own inferences. I won't bother to make proper citation or anything, it's more of a huge ramble based on me rewatching basically all cutscenes, the movie, and rereading the comics. Almost every year I do a big Ratchet and Clank marathon like this, but I might get some things wrong or skip over some things as I'm focusing on articulating my thoughts rather than being completely comprehensive.

Ratchet's Beginnings

Ratchet’s background is pretty fundamental to all this so let’s establish that first.

I will be basing this post on Ratchet as he is in the original games, but I do want to say that I like movie Ratchet too! I don't think it completely cancels out all my thoughts because imo they captured all the main traits of Ratchet. In one scene he says he wishes to 'matter'... to others, as a person, to the universe? Maybe all three. And that is truly the most concise way to describe what drives Ratchet the most.

But for now all we can do is infer on his life prior to Ratchet and Clank 1. I think it’s not too hard to make some assumptions based on the circumstances or a few lines:

1. Ratchet seems to have fended for himself/lived alone.

2. He is likely self taught on rocket mechanics and general machinery. He has an intuitive understanding of how machines generally work and wings it.

3. He has been on Veldin the whole time and never had the chance to go anywhere else. He also could not afford many things.

4. TV (or Holovision) is the most accessible form of media and likely what Ratchet grew up with, as he is aware of and looked up to heroes like Qwark and Ace Hardlight.

Given these inferences let’s look at how Ratchet behaves in 1. He awkwardly addresses authority figures, is rude to Clank and others - he’s just very blunt and critical of people’s intelligence. And why is that? Thinking of how he had to probably rely on himself first and foremost, having street smarts and situational awareness must be important to him. And that he’s likely not had friends before Clank - he’s not gonna know how to act lol. Besides that, he’s honestly just a Guy and a teenage Guy at that. This is his Very First Time outside of the backwater planet he’s been ‘stuck on’ (his words) and it’s extremely exciting for him. And what is the thing that consistently gets him excited and motivated to do things? Fame.

He loves the idea of being famous, like the celebrities he’s seen on TV and the ones he meets while on this adventure. And while this is a pretty common desire for kids, let’s think about why this is for Ratchet specifically.

We inferred that he probably has been alone up to this point. This means: no friends, no family (the movie also makes Ratchet explicitly say how he had absolutely nothing to his name.) Family as we know becomes a huge part of Ratchet’s character arc later on. No friends or family means no support system: no attention, love, or validation. You see what I’m getting at. Ratchet always responds with pride and excitement when others praise and recognize his actions - puffs up his chest and grins, it’s very goofy and all. But you have to consider how he likely just did not receive this validation much prior to 1. Now he’s doing all this stuff and getting recognition. This is how he ends up acting very selfish and self absorbed, the most prominent character flaw of his. In his eyes, Clank’s insistence on him seeing the bigger picture is just not as important as all this sudden attention and new experiences that finally validate his pretty lonely and insignificant existence.

And let’s consider that Ratchet and Clank are not even really friends until the end of the game. For the most part, they are useful to each other in their goals. When Clank claims that it ‘isn’t like Ratchet’ to not care about what’s at stake, Ratchet responds with ‘and what do you know about me?!’ - and it’s true, what DOES Clank know about Ratchet, or Ratchet know about Clank? Clank, too, hasn’t had a long time to exist yet and this is his very first friend. But he does have a natural charisma and strong sense of morality - which leads me into some more core aspects of Ratchet’s character and inner conflict.

Ratchet's Struggles

In the first game and onwards, Ratchet and Clank are kind of like rivals in certain things often for a gag. To put it simply - Ratchet has no rizz or game. Clank often catches the affections of both robot and squishy people. He DOES always know what to say without even trying. Clank always does the right thing. And that’s the thing… in these same situations of talking to girls, or making a speech or commercial - Ratchet tries too hard.

Consistently, when put on the spot, Ratchet freezes up and all his bravado is gone. He stutters and stumbles and is just a mess and Clank has to speak for them. Ratchet visibly shows how frustrating it is that Clank has more rizz than him. He’s clearly jealous of how Clank always knows what to say and do and people just seem to like him more. And his pal is the star of a TV show while he’s the bumbling side character who gets fired anyway. Not only is Clank ‘better’ than him, Clank is getting more validation and attention than Ratchet is - the one thing Ratchet has lacked in his life.

But let’s consider the first time a girl DOES actively like and pursue Ratchet - Sasha. The first time they speak is cringe but cute. Sasha is describing the state of the art gaming console on the Phoenix and Ratchet is so impressed he says in a daze ‘will you marry me? 😍’ AND IMMEDIATELY SLAPS HIS FACE cuz he really was just NOT THINKING. But Sasha doesn’t seem to mind, she goes along with it! I think she can tell he didn’t mean to. And although it’s not been long since they met, her father tells Ratchet ‘she’s said a lot about him’. And… when Ratchet is recounting his fight with the Teranoids, she’s giggling along and very engaged with how he’s acting out his story like the silly guy he is.

And although the first 3 games occasionally emphasize how heterosexually interested in girls Ratchet and Clank are based on Ratchet’s comments about girls - when Sasha kissed him he’s just… quiet and bashful and has no smartass ‘cool guy who likes girls’ comments. He obviously has no experience or idea of what really goes on with girls or relationships lol. If you think about it - has he even really tried to like… flirt? He’s all talk about it, but doesn’t seem to put it much into action. He also associates popularity with girls as a part of fame.

But - he pulled a girl without even leaning into status or fame. What I’m getting at here is: Ratchet didn’t try hard in front of Sasha and she was so endeared to him. She LIKES how goofy and cringe and, in a way, how pure he is. She was probably like ‘can you believe he wanted to marry me just because we got a PS5? Hehehe’ at her dad. He was just his cringe, rizzless self and talked to her like she’s anyone else. We can infer that Sasha, as the daughter of the President, is not used to that and likes it.

But let’s think about why Ratchet feels he’s suddenly got to be a different person when on the spot? He tries to sound cooler and more well spoken (like Clank, Qwark… people on TV!) but he’s no good without a script. In Deadlocked, he even felt like he had to rehearse a bit before calling Sasha (this is why Ratchet’s characterization there is a bit weird to me, when they’re supposed to be more comfortable around each other).

This is all indicative of how Ratchet is not confident in his sense of self - and where do we get a confident sense of identity from? Our friends, family, culture, community. Things Ratchet did not have a lot of before meeting Clank. Ratchet may have asked what Clank knows about him in the first game. But what does Ratchet even know about himself? What consistently gets Ratchet angry and protective is when Veldin ends up in danger. Veldin was really all Ratchet knew for a long time, and we can assume he sees it as part of himself. But beyond that…

This is why Clank is so… so… SO… important to Ratchet and why he could literally be nothing without Clank. Despite Ratchet being mad at Clank’s uselessness and stupidity in the first game, Ratchet is genuinely upset at the idea of losing Clank when lightning strikes him. He awkwardly suggests that he and Clank stick together at the end of the game without directly saying so. It’s his first time having a friend and wanting someone to stick around. In the end… he’s not as independent or self assured as he thought he was.

Size Matters may be a weird spin off game but it did have a pretty important line: after fighting the Ratchet clones, Ratchet tells Clank that these clones weren’t that powerful because ‘I’m not half as good without you.’ It’s a really significant thing to say, and this sentiment echoes all across the games. After all, without Clank’s robot ignition system - who knew how long it would take for Ratchet to get out of Veldin, if at all? Would Ratchet have gotten as far as he has now as a person without Clank?

It’s an admittance of how much Ratchet truly depends on Clank for self worth even if he feels inferior to him - Clank consistently supports, loves, and believes in him despite his flaws. He basically never had this presence in his life. Clank is like his whole support system while at the same time, a source of his feelings of inferiority and jealousy. Although as time goes on Ratchet does thankfully make more friends along the way. Even though Qwark is nothing but trouble to them, I suppose Ratchet still bothers with the guy cuz he’s just that loyal to the few people consistently in his life in some way.

Ratchet's Home

And this leads me to another point. Ratchet’s lack of belonging, identity, and validation ends up having him go from occupation to occupation, world ending situation to world ending situation. In the second game he is markedly different now that he’s got military training and surprisingly (to me) doesn’t question Fizzwidget that much (though the goofy rough parts of his personality still shine through while out in the field). Then he’s the captain of the Phoenix for a while. But overall he’s just kinda unemployed until he’s gotta shoot people and save the world. When given a sense of purpose and belonging he seems serious about it, though how long he has a purpose and group to belong to is relatively inconsistent.

Aside from the meta circumstance that the Ratchet and Clank games needed a new plot, it’s in the Future trilogy where Ratchet started thinking deeper about his origins. As we often have new revelations or thoughts about ourselves and past as we get older, I think Ratchet finally started to realize… there’s quite a big thing missing from his life - which to him was his ‘normal’. Why IS he one of the few lombaxes in the universe? Why did they leave HIM behind? You can imagine the amount of sad thoughts from just asking that question, when coupled with his already shaky sense of self worth.

The way Ratchet acts in Tools of Destruction is interesting. Although he could hardly be qualified as an expert on his own species cuz he’s never even been a part of lombax society - this is something Talwyn does not hesitate to tease him about, which he seems to not take so well. Yeah he gets it, he’s a disappointing representation of his people. And for some reason he acts like the spokesperson for lombaxes when they come under fire by Tachyon. He takes it all SO personally, as if he invented the dimensionator himself. Which then really becomes all about how he’s invented a series of not too successful inventions and sees Clank as someone who doesn’t support him enough. He uses the lombaxes as a way to validate himself: ‘oh, so a lombax can’t invent anything useful?’ he says derisively at Clank and you know it’s not JUST about the lombaxes as a group. Here he is finally finding the reason for why he is the way he is and that his inherited inventive spirit just isn’t appreciated enough. With the way this games story makes Ratchet feel stupid and inadequate at every turn for his lack of connection to the lombaxes, I can see why his worst personality traits jumped out with all his insecurities.

I think Ratchet wanted to lift himself up by association with the lombaxes, to say he IS lombax enough and he knows what it means to be one! Which then made him lose sight of what really mattered - destroying the dimensionator before it breaks the universe and no one is safe. And ironically, when Ratchet realizes this and refuses Tachyon’s offer to see his family, Ratchet embodied the heroism of lombaxes more than when he was trying too hard to prove he was one.

Now put into perspective how Clank fully finds HIS own purpose and origins in this trilogy. I read an interesting YouTube comment on a Size Matters cutscene video that said something like ‘Ratchet is so against the idea of technomites and the Zoni being real, because he always had a feeling Clank was meant for something more and admitting they were real is like losing his friend.’ I thought this was so profound because Clank truly is all he has and could leave him when he’s found his own purpose and family.

Especially since for a while, Ratchet was prepared to do so himself after learning that there is a chance to save his family with the Great Clock. Even if it meant not ever meeting or remembering Clank, the biggest person in his life. But Ratchet's character truly reaches its most mature in ACiT. Instead of reacting negatively to Clank finding his own home and family while having a possible means of fulfilling Ratchet and Alister's desires - Ratchet is supportive and willing to let go of Clank. Because after all, they have to be their own people and Clank has supported him long enough. Just because Clank has found where he belongs, doesn't give Ratchet any right to selfishly keep Clank to himself. I feel so proud of Ratchet in ACiT, as it was clearly hard for him to let go of such an important person in his life. But the combination of what he learned in ToD and from Alister's own life led him to be at his best in this game.

(But come on they're so inseparable there’s no way Clank would be happy without Ratchet either. Because that’s HIS very first friend in the whole universe that gave HIM a place to call home even if it’s just the two of them in a small garage. It’s RATCHET who decided that he wanted to actually be friends with Clank, beyond fulfilling their goals, at the end of the first game. They’re… each other’s home 😭)

Alister represented a major turning point in Ratchet's own definition of himself. And in the end he chose not to be like Alister, to not let his identity as a lombax control his life. Unlike Alister, Ratchet isn't bound to a childhood of belonging to lombax culture and society. And though Ratchet shared Alister's goal for some time, the way Ratchet goes back to rescue Alister when he was captured just goes to show that Ratchet won't think like him. It's just not in Ratchet's character as we know it to forsake the present when up to now he has always, always been about loving and enjoying the present moment and all he could do in it. From Ratchet chastising Clank for not being able to have fun, to being a guardian of all that he loves in the present... it is a beautiful progression of Ratchet's character.

Ratchet so far has been given two chances to finally reach what he thinks should validate his own existence. But he chose to protect the present, the universe he lives in, the people who already give him a sense of self - most importantly, he chose self-determination.

However, he didn't know he would lose Alister with this choice. But it was out of his control, as Alister was too far gone and would act regardless of what Ratchet said. The shock of not only losing someone like family to him, but the sole link to his past and family sends Ratchet into depression and grief. His choice to own his life is not made with triumph as it should've been, but with deep regret and fear. From this point on he truly has a different vibe to him. His energy is dimmed, he gets down on himself more easily. He had his fill of the validation of being a hero, and with Clank choosing to remain with him he's content to retire from it all and try to go back to the things that defined him from the very beginning.

And exactly so as in the comics he went back to Veldin and being a mechanic. Though Ratchet seems his usual, careless self the comics reveal the huge amount of underlying emotions Ratchet has been struggling with in the aftermath of ACiT. The comics have Ratchet going through an utterly terrible time, as someone whose mental health is already fragile: Veldin is in danger once again, Clank recklessly kills himself for an hour, and he nearly lost Talwyn for good. Ratchet almost loses the three crucial things that defined him. Talwyn, Clank, and Sasha help Ratchet work through his guilt over what happened and taking time for himself, while also making a point of how self-isolation isn't healthy for him.

And eventually, Ratchet does get back on his feet and involved with his friends again - but not unscathed, as one major issue would still affect him. The pain of loss leaves Ratchet with a deep fear of experiencing, or being the cause of it, again. And this wound would be reopened too soon with Into the Nexus where we see him struggle to cope with losing Cronk and Zephyr on his watch - if the events of the comics weren't enough...

Watching the scene with him hiding in the crate and refusing to come out, the distance between the goofy and prideful kid we used to know and Ratchet as he is now has not felt more evident. Into the Nexus really highlights how Ratchet at this point just wants a secure and permanent place to belong to. Tal is so important because she may really be one of the few people who could understand and relate to Ratchet. Her family is missing too, she’s been lonely her whole life too. She is a link to lombax culture. She was there for him when he lost Clank. They see themselves in each other, and I think the opening scene of this game speaks a lot to how comfortable and perhaps emotionally reliant they are on each other.

It‘s understandable that Ratchet would let go of the pursuit of finding the lombaxes for someone who not only needs him, loves and supports him just as he is - but also someone he almost lost for good. She is also home and his family, even when or if Clank chooses to go back to his Clock duties. Ratchet just doesn’t want to lose anyone else, can’t handle the possibility of losing one more person - so he finally decides to end his eternal search for purpose, belonging, and validation and cling onto his sources of such things that were in front of him the whole time.

But as fate would have it, Insomniac really will drag out this whole finding the lombaxes thing even longer lol. This is the logical conclusion to the Ratchet and Clank story as of now, so Ratchet isn’t allowed to give up just yet.

Ratchet's Heart

WHY I started thinking so deeply about Ratchet’s character is because of how he is in Rift Apart. I LOVE Ratchet and Kit’s friendship so much because it highlights and reveals so much about each other!!! There’s probably a reason why Kit and Ratchet share a colour palette, and it’s because they’re kinda parallels:

1. They’ve let bad experiences in the past control their present and future - but it limits their world as a result. (Interestingly, Alister also let the past rule his life. But he was so obsessed with righting the past that he would endanger the present. Ratchet learned what not to do from Alister, but he kinda ended up being a different version of him.)

2. They’re both afraid of getting hurt and causing hurt - so they avoid it. They both have a tendency to hide away when feeling bad about themselves. They’re both seen as cowardly for this (Vendra and Rivet judging Ratchet for being too scared to find the lombaxes).

3. Ratchet’s advice to Kit when it comes to socializing is ‘don’t overthink it.’ I’d love to make a connection here to how Ratchet would overthink what to say on the spot or overcompensate for himself in the past.

Kit is potentially dangerous and doesn’t know how to be a friend. She’s caused real hurt before. But Ratchet accepts and believes in her, and is adamant about expanding her world, seeing all the good in her, and encouraging her to grow. Ratchet knows what it’s like to not be perfect, to be stuck somewhere, to make mistakes, and be rough around the edges. I believe this is why he is so kind to Kit, providing the validation and belonging and opportunity he would’ve wanted for himself.

And it’s to Kit that he opens up about his anxieties. Ratchet’s true feelings about finding the lombaxes… he’s so… defeated, unsure and doesn’t think much of himself anymore. This was also evident in how anxious he was about the parade celebrating them at the beginning of the game. Yet another indicator of how different Ratchet is now - younger him would’ve loved all the attention even if ‘unearned’ (cuz they haven’t been a hero for a few years). It’s crazy because he’s done SO MUCH and yet - from the way he talks to Kit he still doesn’t feel like he measures up to how great the lombaxes are. Or his parents, judging by his apologetic tone when he explains that his dad tried so hard to keep the dimensionator safe.

And let’s think on this idea of not measuring up - his self worth issues, he’s not exactly a successful inventor, overall flawed and clumsy personality, seems to only be useful for shooting some bad guys, plus not being able to prevent the deaths of some people very important to him - it becomes clear why he thinks so little of himself in comparison to the lombaxes legacy of being brilliant heroes and creators. Beyond the misfortunes that seem to happen around the dimensionator, Ratchet’s problems stem far deeper into his sense of self. So he tells Kit that even if the lombaxes are the perfect family - would they be disappointed in him, or he disappointed in them? He also doesn’t want to lose the life he has now, not when it has finally given him some stability.

But it is Ratchet’s very own kindness and faith in her that allows Kit to turn this issue on its head and address the crux of the problem and reveal the precious thing that ultimately defines Ratchet and his identity - perhaps more than wanting to matter and belong, what he had almost lost over the course of his life up to now.

I would like to say that in a word, Rift Apart is about possibilities. The alternate counterparts of Ratchet’s world and all the implications of it exemplify this.* The Clank sections directly use this word I believe, as he helps Gary fix the dimensions.

*(I don't know where else to fit this observation, but the ways Rivet and Ratchet contrast are somewhat relevant. Rivet, unlike Ratchet, has friends and a group to belong to earlier on in her story - so she doesn't end up falling into the same character pitfalls of being selfish or self absorbed. She and Clank share that big picture awareness. But she's lonely in a different way: having to be strong for herself and everyone else, she's a Ratchet that doesn't know how to be open and vulnerable. I just wanted to point out how cool it is that they considered all this as a 'counterpart' to Ratchet.)

‘Possibility’ is also probably… at the very heart of Ratchet’s character.

One of Ratchet’s defining character traits is his recklessness. He risks too much, takes too many shortcuts, doesn’t think enough when he should. But this is precisely why Ratchet is amazing at the same time. Of course it’s good he grew more careful as he got older. But the big thing to take away from his anxiety about finding the lombaxes and him wanting to stay safe and content with what he has is that - he’s almost lost that crazy and beautiful ability to risk it all and take a chance. Namely, on himself. And it’s ironic because he convinced Kit to risk it all and be friends with him, to go out into the world she’s so afraid of! And this is exactly what Kit points out to him, and expresses her belief that finding the lombaxes will turn out alright for him - even if he still struggles to believe so.

In the way he loves living in the moment, pushing himself to the limits, making weird inventions, pulling off unsafe stunts, throwing together scraps to fix and modify things against better judgement, trying to beat the odds, befriends strange little robots that are just as odd as him - Ratchet thoroughly, intrinsically embodies possibility. If you have nothing to define you, then you have so much freedom to define yourself. And that has been Ratchet’s whole life. Being able to not only think of all that’s possible, but being brave and silly enough to try to achieve them - that in itself, is an extremely valuable gift.

Ratchet is just not the same anymore because he is scared to be and act on what is the most natural and fundamental to him as a person - lest it lead to immense pain and loss. And as I have established multiple times in this post: Ratchet is at his best when he allows himself to just be… himself without pretense. Perhaps Clank knows or doesn’t know this, but he took it upon himself to try to help Ratchet find what makes him whole and himself again. Because the people around Ratchet can see that him completely giving up on what is in his heart would be truly sad and a loss to the universe he loves so much.

Ratchet and Clank were always meant to keep expanding their universe and themselves! That is the very spirit that propels this franchise. And by the end of Rift Apart, and even if Ratchet is still scared - he’s going to find the lombaxes, scared. He’s not going to give up on himself anymore: just as he didn’t want Kit to give up on herself, didn’t want Rivet to give up on Kit, and how Clank never ever gave up on him, believing in the possibility of him being a good and worthwhile person from the very start.

I feel really optimistic for Ratchet and wonder how they will (possibly?) end his character arc in the next game. I’m deeply grateful that Insomniac still cares about this franchise, and cares about Ratchet as a character so much. It truly is a unique privilege, I think, to see one character’s story develop and grow and change over a decade. I love Ratchet and all he is and represents so, so much.

[violeteclipseboaty]

So I recently went to go watch KOTPOTA again. I wanted to share my thoughts overall on the film, I couldn't properly do it before because I had forgotten some stuff lol

The pacing: at first watch I though it was kinda weird but watching it again I realized it pretty much went straight to the point, if anything I wanted MORE but you know the movie would've been too long but I wouldn't have minded either way. I mean, I've watched the Avatar and Harry Potter movies, so yeah I could've handled that lol

I really like the environment they set up with the eagle clan; their culture, their tradition with the eggs, and their bond with the eagles. I hope we get to see more details in the next movie.

The cinematography was amazing, they really nailed it. The sceneries were outstanding. A lot of that stuff reminded me back to Rise, back when it was filled with human life, now sadly the structures are abandoned and overtaken by nature but look pretty either way. The action scenes omg were so engaging and just done so well.

Let's talk about the main characters:

Noa: Great character. He's curious, smart, brave, and compassionate. I know a lot of people wanted him to be Caesar's descendant but i didnt really care about that. I'm excited where his next journey will take us if they have the chance to make a sequel (please 🙏) I'm pretty sure at the end of the film, Noa now has a new view of the world he lives in and now questioning his entire existence lol

Raka: loved him!! I really like how he truly understood what Caesar stood for. I did notice some things he believed were wrong lol but he's got the spirit and would lighten up the mood after what happened with Noa's clan. He's got a good heart, he sacrificed himself for Mae despite knowing her for a very short amount of time after all. Also I refuse to believe he's dead so there's that also and I hope he comes back to guide both Mae and Noa onto the path for the coexistence of both apes and humans.

Soona: I really wish we could've gotten more scenes with her, but I really like her. She's brave, sweet, and a ride or die for both Noa and Anaya. I hope we get to see her more in the next film

Anaya: yall already know cause I made a seperate post lol but loved him and I wish we had more scenes with him as well! I felt so bad for him when we see him again with Proximus, he's been through enough!

Proximus: he was a great villian and I did not like him, which is good! Not all villians need a sad backstory, this dude was clearly only hungry for power. He was twisting Caesar's words, enslaving other apes, killing humans, and wanted access to technology capable of bringing destruction and chaos. He's smart and knows how to be resourceful. I find it funny that he was talking smack about humans yet his way of thinking and actions are similar to the bad side of humanity. I only wish we could've gotten more scenes with him; he was underused and I thought he would have a much bigger role based on the trailers, but I enjoyed his presence overall.

Mae: I've already made a seperate post about her character and I still sorta feel the same way about her. Rewatching it again, I got to sympathize more with her situation. She's a survivor who clearly grew up and was taught misinformation about apes, but after meeting Raka and bonding with Noa; i truly believe she'll come around and change her mind. I believe in her, and I hope we get to see her again and get more of her backstory to understand her better.

The movie was great. The plot, visuals, and acting were so well done. I took about 5 years for them to work on this, and it SHOWS. Their dedication shows that when enough time is given; movies that involve CGI can be done properly. I'm sick of projects being crunched and the visuals ending up looking like 💩 because the teams/artists aren't appreciated enough. I definitely recommend watching at least twice, and I pray for a sequel.

[lesbianpizza]

LizzieCon

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Female Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, marking, semi public, spit kink, cum strap, fingering, blowjob(R giving), choking, face slapping, spanking(once), brief nipple play, degradation, praise, breeding, allusion to pregnancy kink, pet names (kitten, sweetheart), let me know if I missed any

Word Count: 5075

Summary: You let your jealousy and possessiveness get the best of you at a convention but what happens when your girlfriend has other plans?

A/n: Lol I’ve been talking about uploading something for a long ass time but I’m finally doing it! This is my first time posting something I write so please be nice if it isn’t that good. This story was born when me and @olsenmyolsen saw Lizzie wearing those pants at Comic Con and basically lost our minds😅. They encouraged me to write and actually publish this so here I am!

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

You weren’t sure why it happened. You were used to sharing your girlfriend with the world to a certain extent. She was a celebrity after all, so a certain amount of sharing was to be expected. But for some reason it really got to you today. You knew Lizzie would be busy all day at this convention but what you didn't anticipate was the flood of jealousy you would experience seeing her meet so many fans. Not just the way they hugged her and gushed over how much they loved her, but also the way she giggled and hugged them BACK. It was irrational and you knew that, but it didn’t stop that feeling of jealousy to slowly grow as the hours ticked by.

By now it was the second day and Lizzie was still in high spirits, meeting every single fan with a huge smile. You however were less than pleased. You had barely gotten to spend any time with your girlfriend aside from a few measly hours eating and getting ready for bed while strangers hogged all her time and energy. You still tried your best to be supportive and put on a smile because you knew how much she’s come to love events like these over the years and deep down you’d hate for that to change. But you’re no actor and have never been the best at hiding your true emotions, at least not from Lizzie.

She had noticed since yesterday how your mood got progressively worse throughout the day and could see you glaring daggers at every person who went to hug her. She would have said something if she didn’t find it extremely entertaining. And today she had a little plan to put you in your rightful place.

Lizzie was almost done with the first meet and greet of the day and you had just about had enough. It was right around the moment someone asked to take a picture of them proposing to her when you started to see red. If looks could kill, that person would have been obliterated from every timeline in the multiverse. From then on logic played no part in your actions.

The second Lizzie finished up with the last person you barely gave her a moment's notice before you marched up to her, grabbing her hand as you said “Come with me” with smoke practically coming out of your ears. You dragged her to an empty hallway in the back of the convention center to claim what was rightfully yours. You couldn’t see it but Lizzie had a devious smirk plastered on her face because she knew what was coming and she couldn’t wait for her plan to unfold.

As soon as the double doors leading to the hallway closed, you looked around to make sure you were truly alone.

Once you were certain no one else was there, you pushed her up against a wall and whispered a singular word with as much authority as you could muster before your lips met in a bruising kiss, “Mine”.

It was desperate and needy despite the fact that you were trying to show dominance in that moment. You grabbed both of her hands and pinned them above her head as you pulled away from the kiss.

“You’ve been ignoring me all day and I need attention” you said with a little pout, still doing your best to be dominant with her for once.

She looked back at you with an innocent smile. “Aw, is my baby not getting enough attention?” She was aware there was still a small gap between the two of you that had yet to be closed so you truly had no idea what was in store for you.

She leaned her head forward and stopped millimeters from your face. Your heart rate elevated as your breaths now mingled as one.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted my attention that badly, all you had to do was ask” she whispered with a growing smirk. Seeing her expression made you falter, which Lizzie took advantage of. She twisted you around and slammed you face first into the wall holding your hands behind you as if you weighed nothing. It was quick and unforgiving to the point where she knocked the wind out of you a little bit with the sheer force. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t stoke the growing fire within you.

She leaned in until she was pressing you against the wall with her whole body and that’s when you felt it. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it was because she got dressed in the bathroom today instead of the room like usual. Maybe it was because she chose to wear baggier pants today and you were a little busy glaring at every human being that came in contact with your girlfriend but now it was undeniable. She was packing. You tried your best to suppress a whimper at the feeling, failing to push your ass further into her strap. She leaned in so that her lips were just barely brushing against your right ear.

“That’s what I thought. You’ve been a bad girl today y/n. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little attitude problem since yesterday. It was cute at first, but now Daddy has to remind you who the fuck is in charge here.” Her grip on your hands tightened significantly with that last sentence as if to further emphasize her point.

“Now, you have two options. You can either apologize and put that pretty mouth to good use, or I can walk away right now and leave y-“

“No please! I’ll do whatever you want just please don’t leave me here!” You whined.

The smack to your ass was swift, delivering an exhilarating sting just painful enough to make you realize your mistake.

“Interrupt me again and that’s exactly what will happen brat” Her tone was harsh which told you she meant every word.

“I’m sorry Daddy it won’t happen again I promise! I’ll do anything you want just please I need you!”

“Anything baby? Can’t say I hate the sound of that” She let go of your hands and spun you in place so that your back was now against the wall and took a step back.

“On your knees slut” She used both hands to push you to the ground until you landed on your knees with a thud. You’d definitely be feeling that later but that didn’t matter now. She unbuttoned her pants in one swift movement and reached down. You could barely contain yourself as she pulled out her cock and you saw which one it was. It had been a while since she used this one and never in a public setting. Sure you’d fooled around in a changing room or two before but never with a strap, much less this one. She looked down at you with a predatory gaze that made your insides quiver as she reached out to grab your hair in a vice grip tugging you slightly forward.

Your scalp stung but all you could focus on was the 7 inch cock right in front of your face. Her expression softened slightly as she tilted your head up.

“Tap my thigh three times if you need to stop, ok baby?”

“Yes Daddy” you said as you tried to nod despite the hold she had on your hair.

“Good Girl” And just like that any semblance of softness evaporated as her eyes darkened and her expression turned hard again.

“Now be a good little whore and suck”

You barely had time to open your mouth before she thrust forward making you gag instantly. Usually she would ease you into it, allowing your throat to adjust to the intrusion, but not today. She wasn’t going to take it easy on you. Her pace was brutal from the beginning. Thrusting her hips in and out of your mouth watching as your eyes began to tear up. She couldn’t help but take pride in how well you were taking her. She had trained you well. Despite the rough treatment, you were in heaven. You’d happily take anything she was willing to give which is why you just relaxed your throat and let her fuck your mouth relentlessly. Not that you could back away anyway since she still had you pinned against the wall.

The strap was at the perfect angle so it rubbed deliciously against her clit. That combined with the adorable little gagging noises coming from the back of your throat had her feral.

“You better not stop until my cum is coating your entire throat kitten” She practically growled. She thrust harder, making you take her entire length as she held you there coating her cock in saliva all while still having a vice grip on your hair. She did this a few more times and was starting to dig her nails into your scalp from how hard she was gripping you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood. The thought alone had you rolling your eyes in the back of your head in pleasure. You hadn’t been on your knees for long but you could feel your wetness growing in your panties the more you sucked.

The feeling of her cock hitting the back of your throat was addicting and knowing you were at her mercy in such a vulnerable position made it that much hotter. She pulled out all at once leaving a thick string of spit connecting your lips to her cock. You coughed and tried to take in a full breath after not being able to breathe properly.

Your face was a beautiful mess. Tears flowing freely down your cheeks, lips slightly swollen from the abuse, and an unmistakable haze in your eyes. Lizzie could only think of one thing. She had to ruin you utterly and completely.

“God you’re such a fucking cock whore, it’s pathetic really” she leaned over and tipped your head up again.

“Open” she commanded. You mindlessly stuck out your tongue and she let a ball of spit land directly on it. You swallowed it without an ounce of hesitation.

“Fuck…never mind come here” she commanded as her pupils dilated more than you thought possible. “I’d much rather fill your pussy up and watch as my cum slowly drips onto your pretty thighs''

She lifted you up by your hair and spun you around so you were once again facing the wall. Your arms were at least able to brace for the impact this time. Meanwhile hers touched every inch of your body in a desperate need to claim you. Her right hand reached down to grope your ass harshly and continued further down into your dress. She used two fingers to swipe over your covered pussy and chuckled.

“Fuck baby you’re so wet. Is there something you want? Need perhaps?” She teased. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you squirmed.

“Daddyyyyy” you pleaded “Pleeeaase I need it”

“What do you need, baby? Use your words” she teased as she pushed your panties to the side. Her finger barely making contact with your needy pussy.

“Fuck me Daddy please! Fuck me ruin me use me please I-“ she interrupts your rambling by pushing two fingers into your wet hole, fucking into you slowly.

“You little slut. You’re going to regret saying that” she said with an evil grin.

“And you’re already more than wet enough to take my cock aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

After a few minutes she pulled her fingers out but before you had enough time to complain she had her cock lined up, already pushing into you. She bottomed out in one swift motion making you choke on air. Your wetness combined with your saliva still coating her strap ensured that it slid in with no resistance whatsoever.

She started fucking into you slowly at first but lost her patience to lust and picked up the pace grabbing your hair again to pull your head aside and kiss your neck. She sucked your pulse point painfully, soothing the spot briefly with her tongue before attacking again. You let out a wanton moan knowing exactly what she was doing. She was marking her property for the rest of the world to see.

Lizzie put a hand over your mouth silencing you.

“Shut your fucking mouth unless you want someone to see you like this” she said harshly. You clenched hard at the thought and moaned against her hand thinking about the possibility.

“Oh you like that? Fuck you’re an even bigger slut than I thought” She leaned in to lick and bite the shell of your ear as she whispers, “I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you? For someone to walk in while I’m fucking your brains out so the whole world can know what a whore you are for me.” You felt her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she spoke.

“You know, I should be eating lunch right now but nooo my little slut of a girlfriend needed me to take care of her because she can’t seem to go a few short hours without me being inside of her” she spat as she quickened her pace.

Her words only served to increase your arousal as you met her thrusts the best you could using your palms as leverage to push back onto her cock, allowing it to go even deeper. It should be embarrassing how turned on you were in this moment and any other time you would be but right now all you could think was how good she felt inside of you. Your orgasm was fast approaching and you knew she would be furious if you tried to cum without permission.

“Daddy…I- Fuck! Ple- I nee-“ you sputtered out. Coherency no longer an option with how deliciously you were being fucked.

“Seriously, you already want to cum? How fucking pathetic” Her pace not faltering for a second. If she kept this up you were going to cum with or without her permission and you did NOT want to find out what would happen if it was without.

Lizzie was getting close too so she quickly pulled out of you and turned you back around to face her. She wasted no time in roughly tugging your panties off and safely tucked them away in her pants pocket. She then grabbed your hips and motioned for you to jump up. You wrapped your legs around her waist as she held you up hovering over her cock just out of reach. Her being more than strong enough to carry the weight of your entire body but taking advantage of the support the wall provided.

“You will cum with me or not at all, do you understand? And look at me when I’m talking to you”

You whined and tried to complain but the slap to your face put a stop to that real quick. It hurt but still made you moan and clench around nothing. Lizzie rolled her eyes and put her left hand around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make you struggle for every breath. For a second you wondered how the hell she was able to hold you up with just one arm around your waist but that was going to have to be a question for later.

“Let’s try that again shall we? You will cum when I do or you won’t cum for the next week. Do I make myself clear?” She emphasized her last question with a short but harsh squeeze.

“Yes Daddy I understand, I’m sorry” you choked out with the limited oxygen you had, nodding the best you could. She released her hold on your neck and brought her hand down to swipe at your pussy teasingly reveling in how sensitive you already were.

“That’s my good girl. Remember baby you gotta stay quiet for me okay?”

You nodded as you felt her lowering you onto her cock, using one hand to hold you and the other to guide her cock. Once she bottomed out she resumed her rough pace. Fucking you against the wall with all the force she could muster. This new angle allowed her to bury herself even deeper inside of you, making your toes curl.

She used the hand that was previously on her cock to pull your dress down and expose one of your breasts. She leaned down and started greedily sucking your nipple, biting down harshly just to hear you cry out in pain. She continued sucking your breast leaving another cluster of purple bruises for people to see.

It was all too much. You were doing your best to hold back your orgasm but you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

Lizzie took a second to look at her watch to see what time it was. If she didn’t finish with you soon, she was going to be late to her next signing.

“Shit” She breathed as she fucked into you impossibly faster and harder. At this point you had to put your hand over your mouth to keep from making any loud noises. As much as the idea of being caught turned you on you knew that the reality would not be nearly as pleasant. She moved it out of the way and replaced it with her lips. Devouring you so all you knew was her. Her taste, her smell, her touch, nothing more. Just as oxygen started becoming an issue she pulled back and without hesitation you begged “Cum inside me Daddy please I need it so bad! Please just fill me up, I can't hold it anymore!”

She looked at you with the most feral gaze you’ve ever seen “You wanna be my little cum slut? Huh? Say it! Say you’re my little cum slut!”

“I’m your li- cum slut Daddy! Fu-“ you could barely push the words out with how cloudy your brain was. Something in Lizzie broke hearing you in such a disheveled state. It stoked her already burning fire into a blazing inferno. You weren’t sure where she found the strength but somehow she managed to start fucking you even harder and faster than she already was. You were a goner.

“If only my cum was real, kitten. I’d make sure you left here pregnant. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll switch it out for the real thing.” You heard the words coming out of her mouth but you didn’t fully grasp their meaning in all your haze.

What you could tell though was that you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm and you hadn’t gotten permission to cum. You wanted to speak up but no words would form. The only sounds that would leave your mouth were breathy gasps and moans as you inched closer and closer to your release. Staying quiet was a thought buried in the past as you both chased your highs. This was it, you were about to fall over the precipice head first into your orgasm and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You closed your eyes, ready for it to wash over you at any moment. The next minute you heard her voice cut through the fog clouding your brain.

“Fuck babygirl I’m so close! Open your eyes for me. I want to see you when you cum” she says practically out of breath. You dig deep and force your eyes open. It felt like your eyelids were weighed down by a ton of bricks but you managed to do it anyway.

When you opened your eyes you were sure you were seeing the face of god. Lizzies face and chest were coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Her cheeks flushed in a soft pink. Her eyes, full of lust and determination. Her mouth slightly agape letting out small quick pants that made her chest rise and fall. You could tell she was extremely close. She looked you straight in the eyes and panted out “Cum with me baby. Now!”

The next thing you knew Lizzie scrunched her face and reached for the pump attached to the strap. She squeezed it as she came, squirting her load deep inside you as she fucked you through her orgasm.

That was all it took for you to spiral into yours as she pressed her lips against you in an attempt to keep you quiet. You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm shot through you like a bolt of white hot lightning. It was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced. Your ears were ringing, your legs were trembling, and it felt like every particle of your being was humming. You weren’t sure how long this went on for but it felt like an eternity in the best way possible.

You both rode out your orgasms as she continued to fuck her cum into you. You felt so full you were sure it would start to leak out the moment she pulled out of you. Once you had both come down from your highs you stayed there desperately trying to catch your breaths for a moment, your foreheads leaning on each other for support. When you both had regulated your breathing a bit, she lifted you off of her strap enjoying the little whine that escaped your mouth. She set you down on the floor making sure you were leaning against the wall for support as you were still recovering. You could feel the cum start to leak out but before you could go to wipe it away Lizzie grabbed hold of your hand.

“Ah ah, don’t go getting any naughty ideas now. Leave it. You’ll stay like this for the rest of the day as a reminder of how much of a slut you are. If you try to wipe it off or clean it in any way, I will know and you will be punished when we get back to the hotel. Am I clear?” She said, vice grip still on your hand.

“Ok Daddy I’ll leave it. Can I at least have my underwear back so it doesn’t drip down my legs?” You asked weakly, already knowing the answer before she even said a word.

“No. You wanna act like a slut you get treated like one and sluts don’t wear panties do they?” You shook your head no, a small pout forming on your lips. You hoped against hope that your little puppy dog face would make her take pity on you, but you knew it was a lost cause. When Lizzie set her mind to something, she did it and no force on earth could stop her.

Lizzie looked down at her watch again and cursed.

“Shit I’m fucking late!” She exclaimed as she tucked her strap back into the confines of her pants and buttoned them back up.

“Go find something for us to eat and then catch up to me at the signing yeah? We kind of skipped lunch and now I’m starving” she said with a smile. Her face was void of the previous emotions she displayed. The only emotion you could see was pure love. “Rest here for a few minutes if you need to, okay kitten? You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you. But don’t take too long. I need my best girl at my side” She ended her last sentence with a huge grin followed by a series of loving but hasty kisses.

“Ok baby I will. Now go before the people riot!” You say with a giggle. She kissed you one last time before she excused herself and ran out the door.

You stood there for a few minutes collecting yourself. You played back the last 45 minutes in your head in disbelief.

‘Holy shit did that really just happen?�� You thought to yourself. What you two had done was beyond risky and so insanely reckless. It could have gone wrong in about a million different ways, but you didn’t really allow yourself to dwell on that. At the end of the day, it was hot as hell and you would 100% do it again if you had the chance. Yeah the proper thing to say would be that it would never happen again but then again, you’ve never been very proper to begin with.

You fixed your dress the best you could and started walking to the bathroom. Only now feeling Lizzie’s fake cum starting to drip down your thigh.

“Fuck me” you whispered to yourself as you started speed walking to the nearest bathroom to assess the damage, chuckling at the irony of that statement. Thankfully you had access to the staff bathrooms because of Lizzie so you at least knew you wouldn’t accidentally run into any fangirls in there. Luckily for you, it was empty since all the convention staff were busy working the event so you had the whole bathroom to yourself.

You quickly walk up to a mirror and look at your reflection and what you see shocks the living shit out of you. Angry purplish red marks littered the side of your neck and breasts which you only now noticed were actually kind of sore. No amount of makeup in the world would be able to cover those up. Thankfully, the ones on your chest would mostly be covered by your dress and the ones on the side of your neck could be covered by your hair as long as you didn’t really move around too much.

As for the cum that had now dripped more than halfway down your thighs, you had a choice to make. Would you leave it and risk the embarrassment of someone seeing it, or would you wipe it off and deal with whatever consequences Lizzie had in mind?

The choice was actually kind of a no brainer. You had just had the best sex in your life from misbehaving once. Who knows how good it could get if you pissed her off twice in one day. There was only one way to find out. You went into a stall to grab some toilet paper and wiped yourself perfectly clean leaving no trace of the fake cum behind. As you did this you wondered in passing if Lizzie was serious about one day switching the fake cum out for the real thing. You made a mental note to ask her about it in the next few days just to check if that was a heat of the moment thing or if she was actually serious. Either way, you wouldn’t be mad about it.

You also noticed the faint bruises that were forming on your knees from landing on them so hard. You were sure they’d be even worse by tomorrow but hey that’s what pants were for.

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time to make sure you looked as presentable as you possibly could before heading out to the convention area to buy some food for the two of you. You ended up getting pizza for yourself and some weird quinoa dish for your girlfriend. She might be into all those grains and vegetables, but you were strictly a pizza and pasta kind of woman. You headed over to the area where you knew Lizzie was supposed to be doing her signing. Security let you pass with no problem seeing as they already knew you from the day before.

You walked up to the empty seat next to Lizzie and tapped her with your elbow to let her know you were there without interrupting her flow. She looked over at you with a soft smile on her face as she acknowledged your presence and then went back to finish signing someone’s fan art.

“Hey baby, I got you this quinoa thing. I think it looks kinda gross but you’ll probably love it.” You half whispered so as to be respectful of the people trying to get their merch signed.

Lizzie just chuckled and shook her head as she looked at your pizza, “You know it wouldn’t kill you to put something green in your body every once in a while.”

“Actually I think it would and you’d feel terrible if you were the reason for my demise” you shot back with a cheeky grin. She just rolled her eyes in fake annoyance at your sass. Having given up on getting you to eat your vegetables a long time ago.

You took a few bites of your pizza before deciding to poke the bear.

You leaned in close to make sure no one else overheard you “Sorry I took so long, I just had to go to the bathroom to freshen up the downstairs a bit”

As you pulled away you saw the smallest change in her expression as her eyes flashed with recognition. She looked down at your lap for a quarter of a second before going back to greeting a fan and signing their funko pop case. As they walked away she leaned in closely so her lips were brushing against your ear as she spoke, “Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you disobeyed me sweetheart?” Her sickly sweet tone sent a shiver up your spine.

“Technically you didn’t actually specify what would happen if I did so I’m gonna have to go with no” you quipped. Your smirk was evident in your voice despite Lizzie not being able to see it.

She never faltered though. “Let’s just see how cocky you are when we get back to the hotel baby. Cuz you’re in for one hell of a night.” Your pussy quivered in anticipation of what she had in store for you.

And just like that she pulled back in time for the next fan to be ushered in, acting like nothing had just happened. She greeted them with a warm smile and happily signed the poster they handed her as they gushed over how much they loved her. Boy she was one hell of an actress.

You spent the rest of the time eating your pizza and daydreaming about all the things your girlfriend was going to do to you when you got back to your hotel room. You couldn’t wait. What could you say? Being a brat has its upsides.