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sugaurora · 9 months

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éffleurer | 03

There were always whispers in your office about what secrets Seokjin hid behind his clean image. Now, you knew at least one of them.

Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

Genre: CFO!Jin AU; Smut

Word Count: 4,900+

Tags: Sexually explicit content, profanity, Dom/sub relationship, light pain kink, references to stripping, heavy petting

🎶Music: Alina Baraz - Fantasy

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a ko-fi

Crossposted on AO3

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— Y/N—

Seokjin greeted you at his door with a signature one-sided smile. He stepped aside just enough to let you pass, but left so little room that your body brushed against his chest, the heady scent of his cologne caressing your senses. It was subtle, but you had spent years learning the non-verbal cues of others, deciphering when someone’s body gave a message, even when their mouth couldn’t. Though it wouldn’t do to get your hopes up this early, so you tucked the interaction away for now.

“I didn't know if you’d come,” he said in a quiet voice after closing the door. You turned to face him in the entryway.

“I'm a professional, you requested me, and I can’t say I mind performing this service for you. So here I am,” you said, lifting your shoulders in a shrug you hoped looked nonchalant. Seokjin dragged a hand through his dark hair and nodded, seemingly amused, if not surprised. Did he really think you wouldn’t come?

You gave him a quick once-over. He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him: a cream-colored sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and dark, fitted jeans that you immediately decided you preferred to his usual tailored slacks.

He seemed to notice your appraisal, his smile spreading across the rest of his plump lips. He held out a hand, offering to take your coat just as he had the last time. You smiled back and tugged the belt open, pulling apart the buttons and sliding the coat from your shoulders.

You had stacked your confidence in the end, planning to wear your lingerie as armor. If Seokjin only called you over in an attempt to talk you out of your moonlighting, you hoped the sight of you in this outfit would have him changing his tune quickly. How could he think about convincing you to quit when all the blood was rushing to his pants? And if he instead wanted to play the dangerous game of doing anything more, you had decided it was a game two could play.

His nostrils flared, the muscles in his long neck tensing, both barely noticeable. But it was enough to calm your nerves, knowing you’d had the desired effect. You turned on your heel and sauntered into his main room with your head held high, setting your alarm again at his fireplace mantle while he hung your coat.

One hour. This would be easy.

“The place is pretty clean already, but I couldn’t tell you the last time I dusted a damn thing in here.” He stood at the mouth of the entryway hall, eyes on you as he spoke. “Do all the surfaces, the tv, decor. Pretty much everything dust can cling to.”

He looked away after a moment, nodding towards a small duster and a few microfiber cloths sitting on an end table.

“Yes, sir,” you said, glancing around the room to decide on your plan of action before picking up your tools. You performed your task dutifully as he looked on from his seat on the couch, drinkless this time. He seemed content to just watch you again. Quiet music was already drifting from the speakers, but no conversation followed from him after he’d given you his request.

As you lifted another small figurine to wipe down, you decided you’d rather get him talking. There was at least one thing you’d been dying to know.

“You never answered my question, sir,” you said, not bothering to turn to him in the hopes of coming off casually.

When you received no answer, you glanced back at him curiously. Seokjin was still sat on the couch, leaning back into the cushions with one foot crossed over his knee, hands draped over his thighs. His eyes had gone dark and were clearly focused on you, or rather, your body. And that pesky erection had very apparently made its way back to his lap. There was a long moment where your eyes met his before you watched them refocus and acknowledge your face.

“Did you say something?” he asked. You laughed to yourself and set his figurine back down.

“I said, you never answered my question,” you repeated, coyly folding your hands behind your back.

Seokjin took a deep breath and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward slightly. “What question was that?”

You walked towards him slowly and his eyes never left you, tracking your every move until you stood at the edge of the couch. It felt good to have his attention like this and it stoked a fire in you, knowing the effect you had on him by just being in the room.

“Whether I have permission touch you,” you asked.

His eyes drifted away from you, tongue pressing between his teeth, clearly contemplating his options. You looked on expectantly, wondering if it was a question he’d hoped to forget. Maybe he truly only wanted to watch you, to have you dangled in front of him like so much forbidden fruit. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for that to be enough for someone. After all, that was what this whole job was about. Though you wanted to prod further, you decided it would be better to leave the ball in his court. If the extent of Seokjin’s desires ended with looking, you wanted to respect that, no matter how much you wished he wanted to explore more.

“Only while you dance,” he responded at last, his decision sounding final enough, though there was a hesitation in his words that gave you doubt. It wasn’t the response you were expecting, you thought to yourself. But it did open up a few possibilities.

You shifted forward, pressing your fingers into the arm of the couch, noting what was the softest leather you’d ever felt. “So...are you asking me to dance?”

He nodded, leaning back into his seat again. There was a tenseness in his broad shoulders that left you still unsure of what he really wanted, but with nothing to go on except his requests, you set your resolve to just do your best with what he asked. And, you hoped, you could loosen him up in time.

Pulling a stool from the minibar, you made a show of swaying your body around it to the music. Again, he hadn’t asked you to remove any clothing and though the urge was strong, you only tugged teasingly at the straps of your clothing, holding his eyes as much as you could, but giving him a fair view of your behind as well.

Once you pushed your prop aside and made it to the floor, spreading your legs as you moved, you remembered he was getting a full view of your very, very sheer undergarments. It set you wondering if you were saving yourself any modesty after all by not just stripping anyway. But Seokjin said nothing and whenever your eyes met his, you found a man only focused on your movements.

You crawled closer and again rested your hands on him as you rolled your body forward towards him. This time he made no comment as you touched his thighs. But you had to admit, something specific was drawing your attention now that you were this close.

“Y/N, your eyes seem a bit preoccupied.” His voice shook you from your concentration and you looked up at him instead, then smiled with no shame when you realized where your attention had been. He returned your smile and it encouraged you to voice your thoughts.

“You just seem like you have a big problem. Isn’t that frustrating for you?”

“I’m pretty sure I read the fine print of our contract correctly and solving certain problems for me is strictly prohibited,” Seokjin responded, the tease in his voice clear. Was it a tease? A challenge maybe? But his expression remained playful. You sat back onto your knees, sliding forward and positioning yourself between his legs.

“It's not a heavily enforced contract,” you said, all promises of behaving yourself out the window. If Seokjin wasn’t going to draw the line between you clearly, you would have to make him draw it. Because right now your line was long forgotten and nothing sounded better in the moment than separating him from his pants. And he didn’t exactly make any complaints as he stared down at you on your knees before him.

“And you're saying you would offer that to me?” He hesitated a moment. “Do you always..?”

You shook your head. “I never have before. I'm saying I wouldn't be opposed to helping you ,” you emphasized. “You're kind of a special client, after all.”

“Oh, special?” he considered, stroking a hand across his chin in mock contemplation. “And what makes you think you know what I need?”

“I don’t, but I could learn,” you purred, scratching your nails lightly along the fabric of his jeans. “You could teach me.”

You watched his jaw tense, dark eyebrows raising slightly. Calculating.

“I-,” he said, the word fading at the end. You gave another stroke of your nails while he thought. “I’m not sure you want to learn that.”

“Are you saying you aren’t interested?” you asked flatly.

Seokjin swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

The dance around your desire was taking its toll on you both, your patience wearing a little thin. Not that you minded a bit of coy banter, but what was the point if he truly wasn’t interested?

You could see the wheels in his mind turning as he considered your words, likely trying to account for the consequences of taking you up on them. But in your mind, you were both adults who wanted something similar. You had made your decision by walking through his door tonight. Though you hadn’t yet worked out how it would affect your position at work if you slept with the boss, but that was an issue for tomorrow.

“What are you willing to do for me, Y/N?” he asked. You pulled yourself up from the floor, slipping your legs on either side of him and sinking into the leather of the couch until you were straddling his thighs. It was a bold move, but at this point you needed him to clearly understand what you wanted.

“Whatever you need, sir. I came here to serve you after all. You called and I came and I did what you asked.”

Seokjin remained quiet, hands resting at his sides, and you continued speaking, hoping to urge him forward.

“And I think you’d very much like if I did something to satisfy the rise in your pants you've pretty much had since I walked through that door.” You were starting to feel a little desperate, like he was making you push him the whole way, and a spark of fear crossed your mind. Would he be cruel enough to reduce you to almost begging before rejecting you in the end? It was a struggle to figure out his angle.

“If you would be open to it,” he breathed, voice almost inaudible, dispelling your sudden worries.

You slid yourself forward, sitting back onto his thighs, leaning your face close to his own.

“I would be, sir.” Your lips curved around the last word, hoping to make sure he felt the full effect of his desired title, something the shudder in his body told you he enjoyed very much.

But there it was again, the same hesitation dangling in his eyes. He was holding back and it made you unsure. You wanted this, caution be damned. Wanted to finally close in on what your dreams had promised all those months ago. You realized then that you had wanted it all along, suppressed lust for him now bubbling to the surface. But you really didn’t want to push him if he wasn’t interested. And his strained silence seemed to give you that message.

“But if that’s not what you want-” you started, pressing your hands against the couch to push yourself off his lap, accepting the rejection.

Seokjin exhaled a heavy breath from his nose and immediately his hands were on your waist, pulling your body to his. As he took up your lips, you released the moan of satisfaction that had been building in your chest.

“Did you have to make me work so fucking hard for it?” you whined into his mouth and he laughed and pulled your body closer, nipping your lip before showering you in more hungry, wet kisses. His lips set off a chain reaction and you felt the pull, felt his fervor as he pressed your bodies ever closer. Your hands draped across his shoulders, fingers sliding into his hair just at the base of his neck.

As his lips trailed kisses down your jaw, each one leaving you shuddering against him, you could feel his hardness pressing into your thighs and your longing to feel more of him flew straight to your center.

“Y/N, I have to warn you first,” he started to speak, his warm breath sending tingles across your neck as he spoke.

And then you felt his teeth, pressing into your earlobe, the rush of pain and pleasure wrapping around each other and you wanted it, more of it, right now. A moan escaped your lips and you scratched your fingers along his scalp. His lips pressed a soft kiss against the bite.

“I'm interested in something specific.” His voice was quiet, rolling in your ear and pulling your attention. “If we’re going to do this, you have to want what I want.”

His sincerity gave you pause. There was so much of the Seokjin you had come to know in his tone. Considerate and kind, he was more of the same man you had known for months, the leader you had come to respect. You pushed aside your hormones, ready to hear his request, but knowing you would say yes to almost anything he asked.

“What do you want, sir?”

“I want a submissive partner. I want full submission from you when you’re inside my home. I want to control you and punish you when you disobey me.” His teeth grazed along the tender skin of your neck. “And reward you when you're a good girl for me.”

You smiled to yourself. You knew it, knew that all along he had been holding back his desire to control you, most likely only putting up with your attempts at steering the situation out of respect for your office positions and his own reservations on what going down this path could mean. But this was his real desire and every part of you wanted to submit, wanted to please Seokjin exactly how he wanted.

“I'll do whatever you say, sir,” you said, closing your eyes, lost to the feeling of his teeth as they pressed into your skin again. “I'll let you control me. Teach me.”

His lips stopped with your words and you opened your eyes to find them meeting his own. Focused and serious, he held your gaze for a moment, making sure he had your attention.

“I don’t have any experience in this,” he admitted, voice a little meek. You found the honesty refreshing, the way his eyes softened endearing. His gaze trailed away from yours and you could tell he was a little embarrassed at the confession. “I’ve never been in control of someone else.” A pause. “I've never had the right partner for it.”

And then his eyes were back on yours. “But you, Y/N...”

“I'm not experienced, but I want to try,” you said sincerely. “We can learn together.”

You thought as you spoke the words. What did it even mean to be a submissive? With your mostly vanilla sex life lending no personal experience in the realm of power play, the obvious answer seemed like being controlled and used by someone else. But Jieun had always talked about the delicacies of relationships like this. A more than experienced female dominant, she liked to educate you over a drink about her escapades, and in this field she had always emphasized the trust and care involved in making a connection like this successful.

You cared about Seokjin from the moment you met him, from the moment he had been friendly and kind to you. He treated you with respect and dignity and never was at a loss for words of encouragement or guidance. And the longer you'd known him, the more your care had deepened.

And as for trust...

“I trust you,” you said, hoping it would reassure him.

Seokjin pressed his lips to yours, this time not hungry, but tender and gentle and you felt something new and unknown blooming in your chest. There was a promise in his kiss, a statement letting you know he understood what he was asking of you and what he was offering.

“I trust you,” he broke away for a moment to murmur, before his lips were on yours again, fervor renewed.

The conversation hadn’t been the type of dirty, pillow talk you expected in the moment, but the intimacy of the words was more sensual, more personal. You had formed a bond here with Seokjin, an agreement to trust each other on a deep, sexual level. An unmistakable excitement followed the idea of stepping into new roles and exploring new sides of each other together. The taboo of your office positions might have lent a little to the excitement as well, but you weren’t interested in thinking about that at the moment.

Seokjin’s hands slid past your hips and down to your backside, fingers dipping beneath the soft material of your undergarments and pressing into the flesh. He was tugging you forward, urging a meeting between the hardness in his lap and the soft barrier of your panties.

As you pressed your heat against the stiffness in his jeans, he groaned into your mouth, fingers digging harder into the plump of your ass.

“Fuck,” he breathed out and a surge of heat flew up your spine, mingling with the warmth of his body so close to yours. And then you felt yourself moving. In one smooth movement, Seokjin had lifted you up and turned your body away from his. His thumbs hooked into the straps of your bodice, slipping it down until your chest was exposed.

“Your body is so beautiful, Y/N. I could stare at you all fucking day,” he panted into your ear as his hands went to your breasts, cupping them in his hands. He caressed the soft flesh there, rough squeezes followed by rolling and tugging your nipples between his fingertips. The sudden, intense stimulation caused you to cry out, half-moaning from the pleasure, half-whining from the pain.

Alright, so maybe you were wrong about him being an ass man.

Changing to the opposite side of your neck, his teeth followed, leaving imprints sure to be future sore spots as he toyed with the flesh there.

One hand left to caress your breast, Seokjin’s other hand slowly crept down between your legs, rubbing circles into the skin of your thighs hesitantly, asking silent permission to move forward. As if it wasn’t alright with you. As if you weren’t already dying to feel his hands on you everywhere.

It wasn’t until his fingers made contact with your thin panties that you realized how badly you had already soaked through them, the evidence of your wet arousal immediately audible.

“Already this wet for me? My dirty girl.” His voice was a low hum in the background of your consciousness, drowned out only by his movements. His thumb made gentle strokes at first, which turned into full finger caresses against your wet mound. You whimpered against him, rolling your hips at his attention, still feeling the hardness in his pants now pressing against your backside.

“Moan nice and loud for me, angel, so I can learn what your body craves.”

You nodded, unable to press any words past your lips, lust pooling as he built up the fire between your legs, fingers rolling against the wet mess of the thin material of your panties. You spread your legs a little more to give him access and permission and he took it immediately, giving your clit a soft pinch. You let out another pained moan, letting your hands land on his thighs, gripping them in desperate need of something to hold onto.

“Good girl,” he murmured and the praise was almost as good as his touch.

His teeth were back on your neck and you felt yourself swimming through the agony of his denial as his fingers rubbed your clit in slow, methodic circles, keeping you dripping for him, but providing far too little stimulation for you to get anywhere. Was this the torture Jieun talked about? If he decided to spend all night teasing you like this, your muddled brain wasn’t sure you would be able to make it.

His fingers dipped lightly against your entrance, threading shapes against the fabric there, firing the sensitive nerves already dripping with your juices.

“Seokjin!” The name escaped you, curled in a tight whine as his teeth left yet another sore spot on your overstimulated neck. He paused for a moment and your breathing escalated, nervous and excited at this new level of the unknown. A long-fingered hand slipped across your bare breasts, down to the exposed skin of your inner thigh, then raised up and landed a sharp smack on the sensitive flesh. The pain shocked you and you cried out again.

“Don't start with me again,” he said, his voice colored dark with authority.

“S-sir…” you corrected yourself, the stinging pain only sending more heat to your core.

“Don't forget it, angel. You said you would be good for me.”

“I will, sir,” you cooed desperately. “I promise.”

His mouth went back to your neck, back to the sore skin as his hand floated back between your legs, squeezing the meat of your thighs, dancing across your heat, but still agonizingly never passing your clothing. After an age, he refocused on your aching clit and your moans joined his movements, desperate noises you hoped were letting him know you wanted more.

“That's right, angel, let me hear you. Tell me what you want.” His lips were pressed against your ear now, his voice alone enough to have you shaking.

“I want to feel your fingers inside of me, please,” you begged. Surely he had teased you long enough. Instead, his fingers stopped and you held your breath.

“Oh?” he said and you could hear the smile on his lips. “Is this frustrating you? Do you want me to stop petting you?”

“No!” you protested, placing a pleading hand over his. “Please don't stop. I just want your fingers inside me so bad, sir, please.”

He flicked your hand aside roughly and returned to his agonizingly slow strokes still blocked by cloth. “I’ll decide when you've earned my fingers rubbing your pussy, raw and bare. Right now I prefer this, making you drip through these panties for me.”

You were at a loss, desperate for his touch, but losing your mind at the slow build in satisfaction. Exactly what kind of treatment had you signed up for?

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, bringing his wet fingers to your lips, before jamming them into your mouth. The taste your own slick coated your tongue, unsurprising since you had fully soaked through your lingerie. How had he gotten you so close to the edge without even touching you bare? At this point, you were ready to sign over everything you owned, everything you were if he would just rip the stupid things off.

Instead, you suckled his fingers while his other hand continued its work and returned you to a whimpering mess, soaking through the flimsy barrier and leaving dark stains on the fabric of his jeans.

He tugged your panties away from your wetness, the sound sloppy and lewd and you heard him chuckle into your ear.

“You're making such a mess, angel,” he purred into your ear, tongue tracing along the shell and making your body shudder against his. Finally, you exhaled internally, more than eager to feel the warm flesh of his hand against you and within.

A familiar chime sounded from the fireplace mantle, signaling the end of his session. But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt like jello and your heart was racing a million miles a minute.

At no point had you imagined that you would both be clothed by now. Before tonight, you knew that if he was truly interested in you, you’d sleep with him and deal with the consequences later.

Yet here you lay, mystified against his broad chest, legs still spread wide, the wetness Seokjin had coaxed from you soaking into the denim beneath you. His toying had brought you to the brink, and yet neither of you wore less clothing than when you'd walked through the door. Well, besides your now exposed breasts.

“You’d better get that,” he said quietly and you shook yourself from your stupor, pulling yourself up from his lap and hurrying to your phone on shaky legs to shut the damn thing off.

Seokjin stood with you, and when you turned back to face him he was smiling down at his pants, brushing his fingers along the stains you had left him.

“I'm sorry about that,” you said because it seemed like the right thing to say.

“I'm not,” he laughed and began walking towards you. You stared at him, frozen like a deer in headlights, still yet unsure what you expected from him, but he only took your hand in his and continued walking. Unfortunately, it was in the wrong direction. Instead of towards where you assumed there were bedrooms, he was leading you back towards the entrance of the apartment.

His hand fell from yours when he reached the hall closet, quickly turning away from you and tugging down your coat. He reached out to hand it over and only spoke when you didn’t move to take it.

“We’re done tonight, angel. It’s time for you to go,” he said, the words taking a moment to soak through your haze. You gaped up at him.

“B-but-” What was he saying? You hadn't even done anything. He had just started, riling you up, toying with your body and twisting the coil inside of you. And if the clear rise still pressing against his jeans meant anything, you still had much more to do tonight. It was nowhere near time for you to go yet.

“Y/N,” he said in a sigh at your inaction, pressing your coat into your arms, pressing further still until you felt the wall behind you against your back. The same wall where he had you pinned before.

“Don’t be impatient,” Seokjin’s voice cooed. The words did little to soothe you, your head still hazy, thoughts still spinning from everything that had happened in the last hour. The shock of being so unceremoniously told to leave was too much to handle.

“Please don’t leave me hanging like this,” you breathed, begging him with your eyes. You were ready to be whatever he wanted, to be at the mercy of those hands all night. You had told him as much. But being brought so far to the edge only to be left dangling like was too much. Much more than a newly christened submissive could take.

He cursed under his breath, eyes taking in your disappointed face while his hands traced the soft lines of your lingerie before settling on your hips.

“You make this so difficult when you look at me like that,” he said softly before his lips were on yours again.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as he kissed you, begging for entrance with your tongue. He parted his lips slightly, teasing your tongue with the tip of his own, only to pull back, his hands sliding up, tugging up your bodice and covering your breasts.

His forehead was pressed against yours, cheeks flushed, pupils giving up his truth. He wanted you in this moment as much as you wanted him, those wide, darkened lenses unable to lie as well as his mouth.

“Go,” he said, taking a steadying breath before leaning back. He seemed to rein in his feelings, swallowing them down. “Think about this, Y/N, if you really want to do this with me. And if you want to continue, come when you're scheduled again.” A gentle smile, the smile you had gotten to know so well these past six months. “If you don’t, we’ll just pretend like it never happened.”

“That’s a little unfair to say to me after what we’ve done tonight,” you complained.

“I’m a humble man. I may be infinitely handsome, but you may not really want what I have to offer once you have a clear head. Or rather, what I want to explore.” He gave your hips another squeeze before leaning away from you. “Go. Give it some thought.”

You nodded reluctantly, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

“And none of this affects work, ok? At work, I'm still just Seokjin and you're just Y/N, ok? I'm trusting you.”

“I know. We agreed to trust each other,” you said.

One last wet kiss and he had you out the door, all but stumbling to your car in a blue-ovaried daze.

The ache between your thighs was unbearable, but it was minuscule next to the fire tearing through your body at that moment, burning a path for the new feelings that were growing in its wake: A new, carnal longing for your boss, Kim Seokjin.

#bts fic #kim seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts fanfic #jin smut #seokjin fic #bts smut #jin fanfic #Éffleurer #writing

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pinkscaped · 9 months

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Flowerbank Entertainment is a South Korean entertainment company that was established in 2012. It was originally founded as MysticMusic in 1990 by Lee Joonshik as a music distribution company. However, the company didn't debut its first idol group until 1995, with the formation of "Electric Angels," a three-piece girl group comprising Soojin (20), Eunji (17), and Lizzy (15). Although they were successful, they never became a household name and disbanded in 2000. After the disbandment of Electric Angels, the company would debut the rotational girl group Allume, which would remain their only artist until 2012. After Lee Joonshik's death in 2012, Lee Iseul, also known as Lizzy, inherited MysticMusic and became the CEO. She immediately began transforming the company, firing more than half of the staff and ultimately closing down MysticMusic. The company re-emerged a few months later under the name Flowerbank Entertainment, promising to usher in a new era of idols.

Lee Iseul was born in 1980 to Lee Joonshik and Lee Yuha in Seoul, South Korea. Always having dreams of being a dancer, Iseul had the upper hand in the industry due to her father being the CEO and founder of MysticMusic. Iseul would go on to debut under her father's company, her debut being her 15th birthday present. Despite it being her dream, Iseul quickly learned that the industry was cruel and unforgiving, especially towards young girls.

After the disbandment of Electric Angels, Iseul would attend college and begin studying law and business. With endless funding from her father, Iseul was able to obtain three degrees in Business Management, Business Law, and Entrepreneurship. She would inherit MysticMusic after her father's untimely passing in 2012, becoming the CEO at just 32. She would begin immediately rebranding the company to fit her vision of what she wants the idol industry to be.

Iseul has been described as a "tough boss but a caring boss" by her artists and co-workers. Though her exterior is tough and cold, she has a love and dedication to all the artists under Flowerbank and works tirelessly to provide a safe and caring environment for all.

portrayed by ... sandra oh

Carmen Bae was born in 1984 in Colorado to Mindy and Sam Bae. Carmen was very popular in her small hometown, being captain of the cheerleading squad as well as student body president. She would find herself in South Korea once she graduated high school, wanting to spend more time with her grandmother and get in touch with her culture.

Carmen began attending university a few months after her arrival in Korea, meeting Lee Iseul in her business management class, where the two became quick friends. The pair learned quickly that they worked extremely well together, getting class projects done in a matter of hours while their other classmates needed day. They were dubbed "the dream team" by their professor and the name seemed to stick with them. The pair would eventually move in together during Carmen's senior year of college.

As she was studying for her master's degree in 2012, Iseul offered Carmen the position of Co-CEO and CFO of the newly established company Flowerbank Entertainment. She would take on the position as creative director of the company, overseeing all their groups from 2012 to 2015 as well.

Carmen is highly regarded for her compassionate and empathetic nature. She has the ability to lend an ear to her artists and offer a supportive shoulder to lean on. As per the artists at Flowerbank, they find Carmen more approachable and easier to talk to than CEOs. Therefore, they usually prefer to take their concerns to her instead of Iseul.

portrayed by ... tiffany young

Bahng Taeu was born in 1989 in Busan, South Korea. Taeu was always described as kind and caring when growing up. He was often called a "saint" by his mother, taking care of his three younger siblings and running tutoring services for kids in his grade who needed extra help.

Tragically, during Taeu's first year of university, his father passed away, leaving his mother with very little financial support. He would take the mantle of being the sole provider for his family, working any job he could find while also attending university. During this time, Taeu would begin modeling for a quick paycheck. Under an exploitative company, Taeu was forced into doing a lot of acting and modeling gigs he was not comfortable with but would do for the money. Once Taeu graduated from college, he continued to work for the company until his contract expired in 2014.

Once his contract expired, Taeu found himself working with Stormedia as a creative director and consultant. Proving himself to be innovative and fresh in the scene, Flowerbank Entertainment would quickly get into contact with him and hire him as creative director of the company, overseeing all their groups since 2015.

In 2020, Taeu was promoted to COO but still remains one of the main creative directors in Flowerbank Entertainment.

Taeu has been described as a joy to work with by the artists under Flowerbank, always ensuring the idols are safe and comfortable as well as giving them as much creative freedom as possible.

portrayed by ... kim mingue

Moon Haemin was born in 1992 in Daegu, South Korea, but would live in Melbourne, Australia, from the time he was 6 to 18 years old. Being the youngest in his family, Haemin was described as quiet and shy, often leading to him getting picked on by kids at school. Haemin didn't have a lot of friends while in Australia, opting instead to play video games or draw in the safety of his room.

Once graduating high school, Haemin would go and study in Korea. Haemin seemed to flourish once in Korea, double majoring in social sciences and business and making a bunch of new friends. During this time, however, Haemin ended up getting one of those new friends pregnant, and they would welcome a daughter two months after they graduated from university in 2014.

Though the pair never married, they lived together and co-parented up until 2020, when they decided to live separately while still co-parenting their daughter, Chungyi. After the split, Haemin would find himself being hired by Flowerbank Entertainment as their HR manager. He'd later be promoted to HR director and Program Director. He also works as the manager of the girl group ALLUME.

The artists at Flowerbank don't say much about Haemin except that he's a hardass and cold if he doesn't like you. While he does his job well, he isn't the most favored employee at the company.

portrayed by ... lee dohyun

#༘⋆✿ COMPANY ROSTER #fictional idol community #idol oc #kpop oc #idol au #oc kpop group #fictional idol group #kpop fanfic #fake kpop oc #kpop au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #stray kids addition

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sage-nebula · 5 months

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I always think it's really funny whenever anyone considers Macro Cosmos to be a villainous organization because like, I do get it, it's the company that Rose is CEO of, and he was the main antagonist of Sword/Shield, and Oleana did sic some of the employees on you when you were trying to stop Rose from unleashing the Darkest Day, etc etc. But at the same time, it's a massive corporation and you know that the vast majority of the employees within that corporation had absolutely no clue about anything Rose and Oleana were up to. Even the employees that Oleana sicced on the player probably had very little idea of why they were being told to attack; in fact I think one of them even says they're just doing it because it's their job, or to keep their insurance or something? It's been a long time so I can't fully remember the dialogue, but something like that.

But just imagine being a Macro Cosmos employee and some reporter comes up to you after the events of the main plot and is like, "Do you have anything to say regarding Chairman Rose's attempts to summon Eternatus and the Darkest Day?"

And you just work in like, IT. And not even a high level of IT. You do low-level IT work. But this reporter is shoving a mic and camera in your face and so you have to be like, "I don't know, I just work here."

And then that gets broadcasted on the news as an official quote by an employee of Macro Cosmos, villain grunt. You see it on the news after heating up a TV dinner because you can't really afford fresh ingredients on your employee salary. And then your parents call you and they're all upset about what this means about your future career and how no one else will ever hire you now that you've become a villain, and they raised you better than that.

"I'm not a villain, I just do IT!" you tell them.

"Macro Cosmos is a villain organization, it's all over the news!" they say.

"Mom, Macro Cosmos employs 300,000 people. We supply power for all of Galar and then some. What Chairman Rose was doing was his own personal project, most of us had no--"

"He was going to destroy the entire region and you're just making excuses!"

"I've never even seen the man in person! I just work there! In IT! I barely make enough to pay rent! What do you want from me?!"

And then for the next month your friend roast you about "hey is that your evil boss calling you to do crimes" and "hey do you have to blow up the world for your evil boss" and "hey if you're going to blow up the world for your evil boss can you give me a few days notice first" and so on. They think it's so funny. And through it all you hear on the news that Rose has turned himself into jail, and Oleana is doing community service, and you barely know who is running the company (it's the CFO, you think, whoever that is), and you never once see Oleana in person and you think that's probably for the best --

And then you get laid off four months later because, despite supplying everything in Galar, Macro Cosmos stock has dropped and the CFO thinks that employee layoffs are the best way to make up for the loss in profit and, as a meager IT employee, you are dispensable.

"Your crime spree is finally over," your friends say.

"I only hope your criminal record doesn't stop someone hiring you," your mom says even though you were never charged with anything because, as you've told her a thousand times, you just worked there.

Really, the fact that everyone labels the whole company as a villainous organization . . . is really very funny.

#pokemon #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon swsh #macro cosmos

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chaotic-nick · 1 year

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wc: 1170

note: I wrote this last year when I was deep in my Attorney Woo Young Woo phase and was a second-year uni student taking broadcasting subjects [I used the Shawarama shop mentioned in the fic for my project and it closed down a month after.]

Relationship dynamic: Boss Erwin x secretary Reader/ secret relationship AU

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Erwin said to his secretary who walked behind him, swiping through his schedule on the work iPad. Once the elevator doors closed, he reached for his card in his pocket and extended his arm out to her. “What was that coffee you got me?”

Scrunching her face in thought was the first expression different from a plastered smile,“Iced cafe Vanilla . . . from Mcdonalds.” She bit her tongue back from reminding Erwn that he took a sip from her coffee and only realised that the one meant for him was on his desk when he was packing to go home.

“Woke me up last time.” as the elevator floors took them up to his floor, Erewin swallowed and slowly turned to her with a reluctant look on his face as he said, “And I’ll fire you if you don’t get yourself anything.”

“Of course, Erwin lied when he said fifteen minutes. (And he swallowed his own words, “Ordering coffee only takes— what? Five? Seven minutes. That’s all you need, when she made him order his own coffee.)

He wasn’t that type anymore. Slowly relaxing after five years of being the company’s CFO.

And slowly, after a morning of meetings with the board of directors and potential shareholders, Erwin let himself turn the swivel chair to face the blue sky stretched across buildings and lean a little more further into his chair to rest.

His mind drifted to what restaurants he hadn’t taken her to.

Using her back to push open the door, and careful not to spill any coffee on the sandwiches she bought, ”Sir!” She called out ready to tell him what she saw— one of their almost clients already bragging that they got Erwin’s signature.

Turning around she was greeted by a human image of a cat napping in the sun. Erwin’s face relaxed and the sun highlighted the premature grey hairs on the sides of his face. “Sir,” she called, setting down the coffee.

When he didn’t move, (Y/n) threw a quick glance at the door and circled to the table. “Erwin, wake up.” She said, placing her hand on his face.

“Back so soon?” He yawned— then violently shook his head. A pitiful attempt in waking himself up or removing the sleep that lingered. Always giving him dizzy spells rather than its intended purpose.

Going back across the desk to sit down. “Another fifteen minutes and it would’ve been an hour. Sir.”

“What did you get yourself?”

“The same thing as yours. I needed to wake up, too.”

“How about?” His tongue darted out to lick away the mayonnaise on the side of his mouth. And she looked at him longer, seeing an older version of his childhood picture —one that she kept as her lockscreen on a personal phone— come to life again. “We go to dinner after this? Have this Thursday* night to ourselves.”

(*Thursday nights = the last day of the week where I live)

“Sure,” (Y/n) followed “I’m not busy after work anyway. My boyfriend’s too busy with work all the time.”

Though he knew she joked, Erwin’s heart was hit with a pang of guilt. “My girlfriend’s the same too, unfortunately. I think her boss is keeping her after hours.”

The restaurants within their buildings were full enough for Erwin’s name to be treated as another person trying to use their work title. When he was informed of the business meetings being conducted inside, he only nodded and thanked them for their service. He was becoming sick of it. Really sick of it.

“I know a place,” (Y/n) chirped when she saw him sigh into his seat and run a hand through his hair, “not really sure if you’d like it.”

“Sure, why not. I’ll get to know you better.” As if they haven’t been together in silence for nearly a year. Though she knew what he meant. It was the little things from before their paths crossed that made them into . . . them. “Tell me where it is.”

“I only know how to go there by the metro.” Her little thing was that her life after highschool was exploring the country with the trains. It fascinated her and made life more cinematic as she’d describe it.

“We have GPS.” And then that’s Erwin’s little thing. Calling location apps GPS. “What’s resto’s name?”

“Erwin . . .it’s written in Arabic,” her eyes were wide and her posture slumping in distress,“I don’t know what it’s called.”

“Then,” he sighed into his seat, beginning to reverse his car out of the parking lot. “We’ll find it by car, right?”

Leaning to reach for the control panel, her finger hovered over the button with a waiting look thrown at Erwin’s concentrated face. “Right,” she smiled, watching how his roof slowly folded, the streetlights illuminating his face.

“So,” she asked Erwin who rested his torso against the steering wheel, eyes watching the workers made one shawarma after another and send it off to their delivery drivers. “this helped me survive college and all my internships.”

“This place?�� It was different from all the restaurants he’d taken her to. And different from his world. “It’s all chicken?”

“No, no. It’s a shawarma place, but there’s more than that inside,” pushing the door open, “Don’t worry you’re with me.” She said and then stretched her arm up to yell, “Helloooow, UNCLE!”

His eyes scanned every part of the restaurant, still though, he remembered to hold the door open for her to come in. “They also know my mom . . . and my dad. Ooh also my brothers, they know everyone here. Basically, if you come here enough they’ll have your orders memorised and poof. That’s it.” Only two tables and yet the delivery drivers came one after another.

“Chicken Barbeque.” He read on one of the menus.

“Hmm?” (Y/n) followed his eyes focused on the grill. “That’s what you want?”

“Sure, yeah. I’m putting all of my trust in you—” “You don’t wanna read the menu, ‘Win?” “I’ll do that too . . .”

“Chicken Barbecue,” repeated ‘uncle’ when he put the silver platter in front of them. A whole chicken resting on bread with vegetables on the side. On the other were sauces in overflowing the plastic containers they were in.

“Wow.” She said, “Thank you, uncle.”

“Yalla, enjoy.” He said, throwing a towel over his shoulder, and turning the TV on to a live broadcast of their home country’s football team.

(Y/n) reached her hands for Erwin’s still buttoned sleeves. “Gimme, gimme.”

“You can wash your hands there.” She pointed with her chin as she folded his sleeves. Never removing her eyes from him, whose face looked younger with curiosity.

“You eat this with your hands?”

“First time?”

“It is!”

“Don’t worry you’re with me.”

“I’m full,” said Erwin, falling behind a few steps for the first time. Rubbing his belly over the white shirt he sighed again, “Very full.”

She grinned tiredly at this, angling her shoulder to push her apartment door open, “Wanna come in for tea?”

“If I fall asleep it’s the chicken.”

“Okay, okay. You left your toothbrush here the last time.”

#nick writes fics #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x y/n #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction

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billthedrake · 2 years

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THE BULL (PART ONE)

Kevin bobbed up and down on his husband's cock. He'd been married to Paul Stanson for five years now and had dated him for five years before that. So Paul's dick was by now familiar. Every inch and curve and ridge on the seven incher, the slightly flared head, the way it spasmed as it neared orgasm.

It was getting there, now, he knew, also from the way Paul was sucking harder at Kevin's own smaller cock. Faster, more furious in his sucking pace, with more suction. It was going to get Kevin to the finish line, too.

It wasn't split-second timing, but Paul's seed spurted into Kevin's mouth. Kev loved the test of his man's cum... sweet with just a little salty flavor. That taste and the sensation of it gushing into his throat was often the trigger for his own orgasm and indeed he felt his cum hit his body with waves of pleasure. His husband sucked down his ejaculation as greedily.

They uncoupled and rearranged themselves to meet in a kiss. "Favorite way to start the weekend," Paul said. The man had long hours as a CFO for a small company and often had his sexual needs backed up if he and Kev didn't have enough time for regular sex during the week.

Kevin loved 69-ing, too, even if he sometimes wished they fucked more. Mutual oral was an act he never got the hang of till he met Paul. But his husband was a great cocksucker, having both technique and enthusiasm and their bodies were proportioned similarly enough in height to make it work.

"You came a lot," Kevin said, grinning.

"Should hold me for a couple of hours," Paul winked. He looked over at the clock. Almost 6pm. "What do you say we shower up and get some dinner?"

"Sounds good."

****

Life with Paul was great. Comfortable, even. Kevin Connors had been a personal trainer in his 20s and early 30s before getting into the marketing and then sales side of the business. Now 47, he worked in sales for a tech company specializing in apps for gyms and fitness companies.

The main challenge was their schedules, since Kevin traveled a lot for work, and Paul put in long hours. So weekends were their time for hanging out, and for sex.

And the sex was good. Great, even. Sure, familiarity sets in, but that had its positives as well as its drawbacks. Surprisingly, for as much as Paul was a type-A, even controlling guy in most aspects of their lives, even their relationship, in bed it was all mutual. He even liked it when Kevin topped, though Kevin would consider himself very much on the bottom side of the vers spectrum.

The one disagreement they had was about threesomes. They had done them a few times, and yeah they could be fun, but Kevin never liked the emotional aftermath or the awkwardness. For him, it just wasn't worth it. He had settled down and married a handsome, successful, and considerate man (faults notwithstanding) and wasn't looking to play the field.

Paul, though, LOVED threeways. He stopped pestering Kevin, but he did talk him into them a couple of times after their marriage. Kevin had started to get the sense that Paul enjoyed watching him with another man more than actually wanting to join in.

Kev brought that up with him and Paul admitted, sheepishly at first, that this was one of his big turn ons. "I don't know what it is, but it's crazy hot to watch you service some guy. If I can be honest, I'd love to watch some man fuck you some time."

"I don't know about that, babe," Kevin said, a little bothered by the suggestion. When they had played with a third, it was all oral, or both men topped the guy. Having the third fuck either of them seemed wrong. "I don't feel comfortable with that."

Paul smiled. "It's just a fantasy, and if you don't feel up that, that's cool."

****

Paul brought up the idea a couple of times, almost in jest, but didn't pursue it any more after he saw Kevin was not warming up the idea.

Kevin still wasn't crazy about it. But Paul's 50th birthday was coming up and Kev wanted to do something special for him. The man made a good salary and could afford most of the things he wanted to buy. And being the type-A control freak, he actually planned his own 50th party, with friends, some from out of town.

The idea had come to him and it seemed perfect. He knew Paul had a strong fantasy for a threeway, and a threeway where the man fucked Kevin. It would be a special treat, something only Kevin could give him. And he knew that it would be a one-time thing. A man turns 50 only once.

Kevin couldn't decide whether to tell Paul in advance and arrange for the threesome on his actual birthday or to wait till his birthday to tell him of his "present." He chose the latter, waiting until they were coming home from Paul's party, more than a little tipsy.

He knew Paul had some anxiety about turning 50, but he seemed to be in a good mood. "I'm the luckiest man in the city," he said as he slipped his arm around Kevin's and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Ended up with the hottest guy."

Kevin ate up the flattery. He always did. He'd always had "it," the stuff that gay guys went for. Good looks, great body, and a Midwestern personality that meant he never was short of admirers. He kept his middle aged body in perfect shape, even if that took more effort than before. The result was that Kevin's presence lit up a room... 190-something pounds of lean muscle at 6-foot-even, light brown hair that was getting gray at the temples, green eyes, roman nose, and bright smile.

It's what drew Paul to him, and it always amused Kevin to think that the guy wooed him with the same headstrong determination the man had in every aspect of his life. His husband was always proud that he'd snagged a hot stud like Kevin and never hesitated to express his gratitude.

While Paul wasn't in the same league, physically, Kevin had fallen for him immediately. Tall, strikingly handsome looks, trim swimmer's build, the man's serious personality was also an appeal for him. He looked up to Paul's educational and professional achievements, which inspired him to pursue his own MBA degree and get more serious about his career. He loved the way Paul's rationality balanced out his own often impetuous nature.

And, not to mince words, Paul had a bigger cock. Longer, thicker, at 7 thick inches. Kevin loved sucking on it and loved the way it felt fucking him. Kevin didn't like to think of himself as shallow, but he preferred a guy with a big dick.

Now, Kevin was proposing that another man fuck him, for the first time since he and Paul got involved.

"You serious?" Paul asked, surprised and very excited by the idea.

"Yeah, babe. You deserve to live out your fantasy once," Kevin said, clarifying that this would be a one-time thing.

Paul embraced him, holding him tight and planting a kiss on the mouth. Not a normal husband's peck but a heated, sexual kiss. Paul was turned on, for sure, and Kevin could feel his rigid boner in his pants as he started thrusting and backing Kevin toward the bed.

"I take it you like your present?"

"Fuck, yeah," Paul growled and they kissed again.

They couldn't get our clothes off fast enough. Paul was horny and his desire fueled his husband's.

They made out on the bed, gripping each other's muscle. Paul's trimmer build was on top of Kevin and his legs were kicking his husband's apart as he reached over to the nightstand for the lube. Paul was going to top and Kevin was very OK with that idea. It had been too long.

He slicked up and took just a second entering. But Kevin was horny and relaxed both and pretty quickly his pucker gave way and he felt the hot, hard shaft burrow in.

"Fuck me, babe," Kevin growled.

"Oh yeah," Paul hissed, his hips bucking fast. The alcohol was going to delay his cum just a little but they were going for a sprint rather than a marathon. "Fucking hot stud."

Kevin spread his legs wider and took his fucking. "You thinking of it already aren't you?" he asked. "Some guy fucking me."

Paul nodded, not embarrassed but turned on beyond belief. "Oh yeah." Then all of a sudden he started cumming, with a loud cry. Then he collapsed on the buffer man, taking a second to catch his breath before raising himself on his arms once more. Paul now pumped Kevin, slowly now, but it felt good.

"I want you to come, Kevin," he growled. "Come with my cock inside you."

"Oh yeah," Kev nodded and started stroking. His orgasm took just a little longer to arrive but when it did it felt great, and Kevin shot white ropes of jism on his chest and abs.

They kissed and uncoupled.

"Thanks for an amazing birthday, Kevin," he said, smiling and relaxed, like a happy kid.

****

They went online to arrange it. Kevin had a long defunct profile from a hookup site, which he updated with new pictures. He made it very clear in the language: good looking, in shape, married guy, 48, looking for a fit, masc, good looking top to fuck me while my husband watches. Should be hung, be able to fuck for more than five minutes. Safe only, no strings.

As predicted he got a lot of replies. He and Paul scrolled through them, laughing at some of the cheesy things guys wrote and mentally putting some of the guys on the short list. They finally came across a simple, straightforward message. "Dude, you're hot as fuck, but you know that. I'm younger and can usually come a couple times in one go. I'd love to show you what your husband's not giving you."

"What about that one?" Paul asked. It was almost a statement - let's pick this one - more than a question. Paul was definitely excited by "Mike."

Kevin looked at the profile. Something about the cocky nature of the message was a turn off, but he had to admit that Mike was a seriously hot guy. 25 years old, 5'11", 180, muscular as fuck, 8 inch fat cock, buzz-cut brown hair and blue eyes. "He's hot," he admitted to his husband.

"This may be my present, but I want to make sure you're into him," Paul said, patting Kevin's knee.

Kevin was. Maybe that was the problem. This guy was almost too hot. He wanted to seem open to this experience but not too eager. And his heart did pump faster imagining this younger man doing him. And especially looking at the photo of Mike's hardon. It was hard to judge the real size from a picture, and guys always exaggerated their size on these apps anyway, but the prick looked beautiful. Big, hard, ready to fuck. "All right," he said.

And just like that, he was firing back a message. It didn't take long for them to set up details. Next Saturday night, at Paul and Kevin's condo.

****

Saturday came and Kevin was nervous. Not ready to back out but feeling like he'd be happy if Paul called this off. In fact, he kept observing his husband that afternoon and it was clear that Paul was excited. It was a warm early summer day and Paul was wearing a preppy pair of khaki shorts and a blue-striped Oxford button down. He was handsome and Kevin couldn't help but remark how attractive his man was. Tall, distinguished looking with more salt-and-pepper hair than Kevin, who had just several flecks of gray coming in along the temples.

Kevin for his part went casual. Just a pair of gym shorts, commando, and a faded T-shirt of his Big 10 alma mater. He figured it would show off his gym-conditioned body. There always was the possibility with an online hookup not panning out. First Kevin had been nervous Mike wouldn't live up to his profile. In his single days he'd seen the flakes and the dudes with misleading and outdated pictures. Then, he worried he wouldn't live up to Mike's expectations. That message was right: Kevin knew he was hot. But he also was no longer in his 20s.

Before he could contemplate longer, the doorbell rang. Paul bounded up to answer it, and Kevin could hear their conversation down the hall.

"Mike?"

"That's me. You must be the birthday boy."

"Yes," Paul laughed. "Paul. Come on in."

Kevin watched as a medium-tall man entered, living up to his picture but somehow even better. He was dressed in jeans and a tight gray T-shirt that accentuated his build. He had just a hint of padding on his body, the kind of thickness 20-something guys often have when they focus on putting on muscle and don't want to avoid the occasional beer. But Mike was in shape and big, almost football player beefy. The man's smile broke out when he entered and saw Kevin. He was clearly pleased with what he saw.

"Mike," he said offering his hand to shake. Firm grip, steady eye contact. His eyes were almost sea blue in person, and his hair looked lighter than his picture, not quite blond but definitely light brown.

Kevin stood up, the nervousness fading rapidly, as he shook the hand. He was very much into Mike, the guy was definitely masculine with a laid-back deep voice, but there was something cute about his face, surprisingly, a bit of that boy next door appearance and a playfulness, too.

"I'm starting to think it's my birthday," Mike grinned and winked.

Paul seemed very pleased this was going to work out. He could tell Mike's interest immediately and read a similar lust in Kevin's face. "Can I get you a beer? Wine?"

Mike could barely take his eyes off Kevin. "How about we get down to business, if you guys don't mind? It's been a couple of days since I've gotten a load off and I'm horny as fuck."

Kevin laughed. There was something brash but adorable about this guy's approach. Like he was living up to the cocky messages he'd sent but not in a cheesy or overbearing way. More like he was just a horny young guy who craved sex.

"Oh yeah, we can do that," Paul answered for them. "Let's go to the bedroom."

When they got there the men were just a little awkward of how to start. Thankfully Mike took initiative. He turned to Paul: "It's your birthday, Paul, tell us what you want to see."

Kevin was glad Mike was looping Paul into this. Deferring to his husband in fact. With a wry grin, Paul sat down on an armchair we had off to the side in our bedroom and nodded toward me. "I want to watch Kevin suck your cock for starters."

Mike turned, an impish look on his face. "It was like he read my mind, dude." He started undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Kevin didn't waste time kneeing in front of him, and he had a close view of Mike's cock appearing. Not fully erect but very full looking. Mike was going commando and Kev sighed excitedly as he hauled out his meat.

"Fuck!" Kevin growled when he saw the length. He had assumed the guy was bullshitting about his size but there it was. At least eight perfect inches, real fat ones, too, maybe even a shade bigger than advertised. He leaned forward and took the head into my mouth.

"Oh God!" Kevin could hear Paul's excited gasp as he started sucking on the younger man's dick, feeling it firm up in my mouth. He never considered myself an expert cocksucker - Paul was more talented in that department, actually - but he did his best. Opening his mouth and relaxing the jaw and throat. Slowly working more and more into his craw. Kevin was almost deep throating him when Mike finally placed his hand on the top of my head to ease him off.

"Enough of the warm up, bud," Mike said. "Don't want to cum just yet." He reached down and hoisted Kev up and just like that initiated a kiss. The couple hadn't talked about kissing, but Paul wasn't making any objection now and Kevin was definitely keyed up for it. He kissed Mike back, feeling the strong hands slip down his shorts and massage his exposed ass cheeks. Mike's hands were strong, all right, gripping Kevin's gym-toned ass muscle.

"Fucking perfect ass," Mike mumbled and leaned back to remove his shirt while Kevin followed suit. He stripped off his jeans and now their naked bodies connected. His muscle felt warm to the touch and Kevin could tell he was getting off on the better definition.

Mike walked the two back toward the bed and they collapsed in embraced. The man may have been young, but was a skilled lover, covering Kevin's body with his own and humping against him. He kissed up the older man's neck, muttering into his ear. "You like your husband watching?"

Kevin hissed. This was Paul's part of the scene, the voyeur aspect. Kevin just enjoyed the sexual contact.

Maybe Mike mistook his silence. "Don't worry, man," he whispered. "I'm going to give you a fuck you'll remember."

"What are you guys whispering about?" Paul said, a tone half amused, half annoyed.

Mike craned his head back and looked at the 50 year old. "I was telling him I'm going to give him a fuck he'll remember."

With a grin he scooted down and lifted Kevin's legs up. Kevin aided the process by pulling his legs back the rest of the way. He trembled as Mike's breath fluttered against his crack and then moaned as the man planted his face right there.

"Oh fuck," Paul gasped and as Kevin looked over he could see Paul undoing his shorts and pulling out his rigid prick. As rigid as he ever remembered seeing his husband. He was glad Paul was enjoying the show. He was even happier feeling Mike's tongue circle around his hole. Paul wasn't a big fan of rimming, either giving or receiving. In contrast, this young stud was downright enthusiastic, munching Kevin's hole for a good five or ten minutes before pulling back.

"Hot fucking hole," he growled, giving another swipe or two of the tongue.

"Fuck me," Kevin urged. As he said it he realized it was the first time he'd actively initiated the process. Not waiting for Paul's request. He wanted Mike to fuck him. Bad.

Mike leaned up, grinning big. "Gladly, stud." He turned over toward Paul, showing off his large erection. "You ready to see me stuff this in your husband?"

Paul was so horny he could barely speak. "God yeah." He didn't touch his cock which was reddened and throbbing and dripping precum down its length. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on. "Just wear a rubber," he reminded.

Mike nodded his agreement as got off the bed and picked up the condom and lube. He walked over to where Paul was sitting. "Maybe you should put it on."

Kevin lay back, his legs still spread but now resting on the mattress. He hadn't expected this turn of events, for Paul to be brought in physically. He wouldn't have minded getting this young stud prepped and ready, but it was insanely hot to watch Paul take the Magnum and tear open the foil packet with his teeth, then gripping Mike's rigid prick in his hand to roll the rubber down.

"You like feeling this cock, man?" Mike asked, his hands on his hips as he looked down. "It's going right up your husband's asshole. Is that what you want?"

"Oh yeah. Please," Paul's voice was soft but definitely excited.

"More lube," Mike instructed. "Your husband's got a horny hole, but he's not used to cocks this big."

That made Paul audibly grown. Kevin wasn't sure where this was coming from. It must go beyond the voyeurism, he guessed. Paul seemed to get off being put in his place by a more muscular, better hung man.

Finally Mike stepped back and then crawled back onto the bed, his hardon throbbing and waving with each step. Kevin was nervous he'd get right to fucking and was growing apprehensive given the girth of that dick. The length he could take just fine, he knew, but Mike's cock was fat, almost cylindrically shaped.

But Mike just squirted some lubricant on his fingers and started working it into Kevin's hole.

"Lean back, buddy," he urged. "Relax." Then as his fingers pushed in and out, first two, then three, he hissed, "feels good."

Kevin was getting into that horny space again. That I gotta-get-fucked urge. He pulled back his legs to his chest, hiking his toned ass up. Mike got the message, withdrew his fingers and scooted forward.

The penetration was slow and steady. Kevin's hole would tighten then relax again, and more of that gloriously fat cock would slip inside. He forgot about Paul entirely, in fact, as this hunk was hovering over him, looking down with an intense, lusty smile. His fucker was about 20 years younger than him and was definitely into Kevin. Hungry, almost possessive in his fuck. Mike was enjoying this, and that somehow thrilled Kevin even more.

Pretty soon his pubes pressed against Kev's hole. "All the way in ya, man," he boasted. "How's that feel?"

"Incredible," Kevin grunted.

Mike pulled back just an inch and pressed in. Then again. Priming the pump. When he was sure Kevin was ready, he started fucking.

Kevin's mind was feeling overwhelmed with the sensation. He felt full, amazingly full. Possessed, stimulated inside and out. His dick was rigid and leaking on his hairy taut abs.

Mike built up a steady pace, working both men up. Not rushed, but gradually faster and harder. "Yeah you love this," Mike growled, putting more power into his hips. Rhythmic hard thrusts, that somehow Kevin was able not only to take but to crave. "Love being fucked by a real man."

At those words, Paul came, shooting his seed all over his hand and stomach. Mike looked over and saw the man go through the aftershocks. "Your husband just nutted," he grinned as he looked down on Kevin's horny state, muscles tensed, dick hard. "You about ready to come, too, bud?"

"Fuck, yeah," Kevin urged. As much as he wanted this to last, it was all so intense. He gripped his bone and started stroking.

That seemed to urge Mike to fuck faster, that fat rod hitting Kevin's internal gland more insistently. "Do it, man. Come on my cock."

Kevin did. His body shook and he gave it up. Heavy hard spurts of cum sprayed all over himself, some spurting against Mike's smoother torso in the process.

Mike's look of satisfaction was giving way to his O face. Kevin's spasming hole was gonna make him come. "FUCK!!!" he cried as he held his hips steady and filled his condom. Leaning forward he met Kevin in one last deep kiss, as his body tensed in the waves of pleasure.

That rubber was bulbed at the tip with jizz when he pulled out at last. He stepped off and Paul could see that magnificent, powerful cock.

"Mind if I rinse off?" Mike asked.

Paul had come a second time and was wiping his hands off with kleenex. "Yeah, sure, the bathroom's there," he said, pointing to the master bath.

"Thanks. And I may take you up on that beer if you don't mind me sticking around just a bit."

"Least we can do after that performance," Paul observed. As Mike stepped into the bathroom, Paul got up and crossed over to where Kevin lay, relaxed and satisfied. "You doing OK, babe?" he asked.

Kevin looked up with a dreamy expression. "More than OK. That was awesome. Was it everything you wanted?" He felt guilty now he'd enjoyed it so much but Paul seemed to have enjoyed it too.

"Oh yeah," he nodded and met Kevin in a soft kiss. "You can clean up and join us."

***

Ten minutes later, the men sat, dressed once more, in the living room sipping their beer and making small talk.

Finally Mike addressed the elephant in the room. "You guys done this before?"

"No," Kevin said. "Not exactly."

"We've had a few threesomes," Paul clarified. "But never a scene like this. With me watching. What about you?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, a couple times. I had a running thing with a couple... you know, one of the guys had a big-time cuck fantasy." He took a sip of beer and looked squarely at Kevin. "The bottom wasn't as hot as you, though. Not by a mile."

"Thanks," Kevin replied.

"I'll just say you surpassed our expectations when we decided to do this," Paul said, his arm affectionately around Kevin's shoulder. "Guess we didn't expect a younger guy."

Mike got a sexy grin. "Oh, I have a real thing for older guys. Especially DILFs. It's one reason I come into the city to hookup with guys." His expression turned more serious. "Besides, I'm not out on my job, so it's just easier this way."

"What do you do?" Kevin asked.

"State trooper," he replied, clearly anticipating the surprised reaction from Paul and Kevin. He'd seen it before. He didn't usually tell guys his profession, but he felt comfortable with these men.

"No shit?" Paul exclaimed.

"You definitely look every bit the part," Kevin observed.

"I wish I was in your kind of shape," Mike answered truthfully. Kevin was his type to a T.

"Kev was a personal trainer," Paul volunteered proudly. "Hard keeping up with a dude this hot, I'll tell ya."

"You're a good looking dude, too, Paul," Mike admitted. "Thanks for setting this little play date up. Made my week. I think I was a little backed up."

"Looked like it from what I saw trapped in the condom." Paul observed.

Mike laughed. "Yeah." He reached down and gripped his crotch. "I could go again, too."

Paul looked shocked. He'd assumed the sex part of the evening was over.

"You're not fucking me again," Kevin said, his eyes locking on Mike's. "But I'll suck you off."

He was too nervous to look at Paul for confirmation on this. But his husband was the one who'd hounded him to play this scene, and Kevin knew he wanted another chance with Mike's amazing cock, since this was a one-time threesome. He stood up and crossed over, getting on his knees between the state cop's spread legs.

"Fuckin' A." Mike hissed, undoing his jeans once more.

Paul didn't think he had any more boner left after two cums not even twenty minutes ago. But here he was growing hard as he watched Kevin give Mike the Cop head.

Kevin felt a little more comfortable Mike's big dick this time, slowly working more of the thick shaft into his throat with an up and down bob. Sucking on that dick in the process and rubbing the cop's heavy nut sac with his right hand. He wanted to give the young stud pleasure.

Mike for his part seemed engrossed in the blowjob, looking down on Kevin's bobbing head, guiding him a little, until he looked up and over at Paul. "He's really good at this. Man your husband is so friggin hot." He leaned back and let the pleasure climb until he was having his second orgasm, firing a healthy load into Kevin's sucking throat.

Now it was Kevin with a look of proud satisfaction as he stood up, gripping his boner to calm it, and returned to sit next to Paul as Mike tucked in and buttoned back up.

"Fuck," the cop growled. "I won't say that was better than your ass, but... wow."

#drakestories

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getvalentined · 3 months

Note

for the fic writer asks! #4 please! also #5 if you're feeling generous

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

Okay so I already talked at length about the concept for Turn Out The Light (And What Are You Left With?), which is the big unwritten AU that may always be my white whale, but I have this postcanon fic/comic/something that I call Sunburn that I've been scripting out and then taking apart periodically for like ten years?

Reeve dispatches Vincent, Cloud and Yuffie on behalf of the WRO to make a purchase offer on the old Shinra vacation home in Costa del Sol, with the intention of using it as a WRO safehouse. Yuffie is there because she's the WRO's CFO, Cloud is there so nobody gets murked, and Vincent is there because he's the only person who is actually familiar with the property as it was recently after construction and can therefore give a decent estimate of whether it's in good enough repair to suit their services. Allegedly, anyway. This is the excuse Reeve used to convince him.

The only thing is, the property was used as a Turk safehouse for years, and still is, and Reeve knows that—but there's an old man sleeping on the couch in that house who needs to get off his ass and talk to his old partner instead of avoiding Edge and Junon like the plague ever since Vincent formally signed on with the organization. Veld is going to lodge a complaint with Reeve later, since he was pretty comfortable with Vincent thinking he was dead. Vincent is going to lodge a complaint in Veld's face with his fist for allowing him to go all this time thinking he was dead. This can only end in sex.

5. First sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP.

From Trample Your Roses, because I have it open, but is thus subject to change prior to posting:

The relocation order also said that his weekly mako baths were to be discontinued in this new location, as the instability issues inherent to keeping him in Sector 0 wouldn’t present so far from an open mako well, and that brought Nero’s mood up from hopeful to thrilled.

[For the More Fic Writer Asks game.]

#ask game #fic writer ask game #nashi writes #fic: sunburn #fic: trample your roses #vincent valentine #veld of the turks #nero the sable

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 2 years

Text

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

Word Count: 11.1K

Summary: With the days to the concert flying by, you do your best to assist MSO conductor Agatha Harkness as you both prepare for the final performance.

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter of Chaconne. It’s taken me a while to get here, but I’m so excited to post this and share it with all of you. Just a few reminders, this story was originally based off one of my favorite tv shows, Mozart In The Jungle. A few of the plot lines inspired me to write this story but, I do not own Mozart In The Jungle (unfortunately). I lost track while writing so this chapter is much longer, but I hope all of you enjoy. Thank you guys for reading and always sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate it more than words can say. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and please, feel free to comment or message me to let me know what you think! :)

Tag-List: @anxiousgoldengirl @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @thoroughly--confused @thewelshelk @tr333sus

Y/N POV

There was nothing more exhilarating than the start of a concert week. The grueling hours of practicing, weeks of rehearsals that seemed to drag by, all of it was worth it for opening night. Sitting on stage while the lights began to dim. Seeing the concert hall full of an audience who came to watch you perform. Well, that’s what you usually would look forward to. Only this time you wouldn’t be performing, you’d be backstage preventing Agatha from strangling the various stage hands and orchestra personnel.

With the concert quickly approaching, you were leaving work later and later every night. It seemed that there was a never ending pile of tasks to complete, and just when you thought you had finished, there turned out to be more to do. You loved the work, even if it wasn’t what you envisioned doing with your career. The MSO housed an impressive music library, with what seemed to be thousands of music scores. There were guest artist programs where world famous musicians like Wanda and Natasha would do various performances in the community. You had an unlimited supply of resources at your fingertips, but a small part of you wondered if it would be enough.

After you called Natasha to inform her you weren’t accepting the offer, she had taken to emailing you twice more to make sure you hadn’t reconsidered. But you weren't reconsidering, right? Sure, you weren't performing with the MSO, but you had Agatha. Agatha, who had taken to inviting you to stay with her for the past few nights. Agatha, who made you dinner each night, despite your protests that you could help. Agatha, who turned off your earliest alarm so you could catch up on sleep, and sent her car service to pick you up a few hours later.

Even with the domestic layers of Agatha that you were slowly uncovering, there were still unanswered questions. Despite all the time you’d spent together, the dates, and the sleepovers you’d never had a conversation discussing what this was. You couldn’t really picture Agatha as the ‘girlfriend’ type, and you were unsure how to ask her what she wanted long term. Or rather, you were scared that you wanted more than she did.

There was no use fretting right now, you reminded yourself as you entered the symphony center. You had a job to do, and it currently required all of your attention. There had originally been a youth music concert scheduled for the day, where hundreds of children would come hear the symphony perform, but Hayward canceled it last week. He claimed it was a waste of money that wasn’t benefitting the symphony, and instead scheduled yet another donor lunch. While you had been disappointed by the news, Agatha was livid. You recalled the thirty minute rant you witnessed last week, complete with Agatha’s ever colorful ways of insulting the CFO.

This afternoon’s dress rehearsal meant Agatha would be even more nitpicky than usual, if that was even possible. Agatha didn’t just expect a flawless performance, she demanded it. But rehearsals were running more smoothly as time went on, so you were hopeful today wouldn’t be a complete disaster. She seemed to be pleased with the orchestra's progress, or as pleased as she could be. There was a comfortable sort of banter between her and the orchestra (although the slight…bullying towards Dottie hadn’t changed), and it was nice to see her start to relax. The orchestra wasn’t afraid of her anymore, the fear had slowly turned into respect.

You’d usually find the conductor pacing in her office in the hours before rehearsal started, but much to your surprise her office was vacant when you returned from helping the interns set the stage. There was a note addressed to you on her desk, and in Agatha’s messy scrawl she informed you she’d be back before rehearsal started, and to make sure you had something to eat. On rehearsal days you were often so busy there were times where you’d forget to eat lunch, or even dinner. Agatha always noticed. Although she’d complain you were supposed to be her assistant and not the other way around, she’d make sure you ate something.

By the time rehearsal rolled around, most of the orchestra had arrived and were getting settled on stage when Agatha came sauntering in. She was carrying two cups of coffee, and handed one to you when she reached the stage. Her fingers briefly squeezed yours, and when she let go you instantly missed the contact. Wasting no time, she clapped her hands together to indicate the lingering orchestra members should get on stage.

“We’re going to run through parts of Dvorak before Wanda arrives.” Agatha informed you as she gathered her music scores and baton that you had grabbed from her office earlier that afternoon. “Can you watch the string sections to make sure everyone is following the correct bowings? It only takes one of them to fuck it up and become an eyesore.”

Nodding, you grabbed the spare copy of the Dvorak score and a pencil. “Anything else?”

“Let me know if anyone seems to be falling behind because of the tempo changes. I know we have problems with the flutes, but I’ve been sensing some of the first violins dragging as well.” Agatha added, and you scribbled down her instructions. “We’re going to be running through the program from start to finish for the second half of rehearsal, so I want to get all of the kinks worked out beforehand.”

The conductor paused for a moment as her eyes scanned the stage before turning her attention back to you. “I have a little surprise planned for today. Can you ask a few of the interns to wait in the lobby?”

A surprise? Is that where she disappeared to today? Giving her a sweet smile, you leaned in close enough to whisper. “Can I ask what it is?”

Agatha smirked, and there was a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. She merely tskd and shook her head. “All in good time, dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a rehearsal to lead.”

Firing off a text to 4 interns relaying Agatha’s instructions, you waited for confirmation that they would wait in the lobby before settling in your seat. Agatha was flipping through her score, and you scanned the first violin section until your eyes locked on Monica and sent her a quick, but enthusiastic wave. You missed her, and missed being her stand partner.

Tapping her baton, Agatha motioned for the orchestra to be quiet. “Good afternoon everyone. As this is our last rehearsal before tomorrow night, I have a few spots I want to run before our soloist arrives.”

She was flipping through her score at record speed before finally locating whatever section she was searching for. “If you could turn your attention to measure 191 in the first movement. Strings, I need less of you here. You shouldn’t be playing anything above mezzo piano.” Pausing, her eyes appeared to drift throughout the section, before adding. “And some of you need to use less bow. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Don’t waste all of your energy in the first movement when we have three more to go.”

Raising her baton, the orchestra raised their instruments, and you turned to the correct page in the score so you could follow along. Unfortunately, the orchestra barely played a full measure before Agatha cut them off.

Clearing her throat, you could tell she was attempting to keep her annoyance in check. “Just a reminder, we are at measure 191 in the first movement.” She waved her baton back towards the winds. “Does everyone know where we are?” When everyone either nodded or confirmed they were at the correct place, Agatha sighed. “Alright then. Once more, and we’ll keep going this time.”

Your eyes locked on the measure Agatha was referring to, and quickly scanned the parts before she gave the downbeat to begin. Again, barely one measure in and she was cutting the orchestra off once more. Oh no. Although Agatha hadn’t been as frustrated during orchestra rehearsals, you were beginning to wonder if today would end that streak.

Tapping her baton on the stand, she took a deep breath. “Alright. I want everyone to take a moment and make sure we are all at the same place. In case some of you happen to be hard of hearing, we are at measure 191.” She tapped the baton again, louder, this time in clear frustration. “Again, that is measure one hundred and ninety-one.” This time she enunciated each syllable and a painstakingly slow pace. “Does anyone need help locating the measure? I thought they would have taught you to count by now but I am willing to assist if need be.”

When she was once again met with silence, she nodded. “Good. Once more, hopefully for the last time.”

Raising her baton, she gave the downbeat and when the orchestra played the first note you could immediately tell that someone was not at the correct measure. Agatha dropped her baton on her stand and shook her head. “Flutes, are all of you on the right measure?” There was insistent nodding from the flute section and you grimaced.

Agatha took yet another very, very, deep breath, more than likely to try and keep her temper in check. “Flutes, if we’re all in the same place then why are we not playing the correct notes? We are in the key of e minor, yes?” Without even waiting for the flutes to confirm she continued on her rant. “Right, right. Yes, yes. Very good, we can all read key signatures. I’m sure your parents are so proud they’ve paid hundreds of thousands of dollars on your education that you can identify what key you are in.”

Ouch. She was in a mood now. There was movement to your right, and you looked over to see Wanda Maximoff taking a seat next to you. The pianist gave your shoulder a light squeeze, and leaned in closer to you. “I see Agatha is getting along well with the orchestra.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, on the off chance Agatha somehow heard and became even more agitated than she already was. The conductor in question looked like she was getting close to going full rage. “Dottie, are you sure you have the correct measure number?”

The principal flautist nodded. “Yes, Maestra. It’s marked as measure 191.”

“Then why are you playing the wrong note? You have an e-flat notated but you’ve played an e-natural each time.”

“I don’t have an e-flat at 191, Maestra. It’s an e-natural,” Dottie insisted, and you swore she appeared to be shrinking in size in her seat from embarrassment.

The second chair flautist leaned over to read Dottie’s part before nodding. “She’s right, Maestra. It’s an e-natural at measure 191.” She then turned to Jimmy. “Right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy, who was seated on the other side of Dottie reluctantly looked over at her part as well. “It’s…it’s an e-natural, Maestra.”

“See, I have witnesses!” Dottie exclaimed. “It’s not me.”

Jimmy meanwhile was still scanning Dottie’s part, and he pointed at something on the page. “Wait Dottie, I think your part is numbered incorrectly. It looks like you’re off by three bars.”

Dottie became more flustered and she appeared to be silently counting each bar, before sheepishly looking up at Agatha. “Well, it looks like I wasn’t actually at measure 191. But it wasn’t my fault! The part was numbered incorrectly.”

“Ah of course, Dottie,” Agatha drawled sarcastically, her voice dripping with resentment. “It’s always someone else’s fault.” Grabbing her baton, she raised her arms. “Measure 191 everyone.”

The orchestra began to play and you were following along with the score until you felt Wanda lightly tap your shoulder. Giving her an inquisitive look she leaned closer to you again. “Natasha told me you turned down the job offer. I have to say I’m surprised, and I know she was as well.”

Shrugging, you gave a quick glance to the stage to make sure Agatha’s attention was solely on the orchestra before replying. “I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I’m really happy where I am right now.”

“You mean you’re happy with Agatha.” Wanda corrected you, but there was no malice or judgment in her tone; only curiosity. “Does she know you got the job?”

You debated over the risk of confiding in Wanda, but rationalized that she had been nothing but kind to you. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone about this. “No, she doesn’t. Besides, it doesn’t matter now. I told Natasha that I wasn’t taking it, so she never has to know.”

“You should tell her,” Wanda suggested, her breath hot in your ear. “She’d want to know.”

“It’s not that simple,” You argued. “We don’t-”

“If my assistant and soloist could stop chatting, the rest of us doing our jobs would greatly appreciate it,” Agatha called from the stage, effectively shutting you up. “Wanda, if you’d like to come on stage for Rachmaninoff, we’ll continue after taking a 10 minute break.”

Wanda gave your shoulder a final squeeze as she stood up. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve known Agatha for a long time, and I can tell she really cares about you. You should tell her.”

With that, Wanda went to join the orchestra on stage, and you were alone yet again. Although Wanda meant well, there was no point in telling Agatha about the job in Vienna. You had made your decision, and you were happy with it. Agatha came skulking off the stage, heading in your general direction and you winced at how annoyed she appeared to be.

“Y/N, a moment?“ Agatha asked, and as she stared at you it became apparent she wanted you to get up and follow her.

Nodding, you followed her backstage. You barely rounded the corner when you felt Agatha grab your arm and yank you into a closet. It was a storage closet, and a rather roomy one at that. Now, it wasn’t unusual for Agatha to be staring at you, but this was different. At first you wondered if she was angry you were talking to Wanda during rehearsal, but you couldn’t detect any frustration in her gaze. Her eyes were scanning yours, as if she was trying to detect something, find something, but you weren’t sure what.

“Agatha?” You asked softly, gazing up at her. “Is everything alright?”

“I was hoping you’d join me for dinner after rehearsal,” Agatha explained, as one of her hands lightly grabbed your waist. “I’ve enjoyed having you stay over for the past few nights. It’s been quite…calming. I think Scratchy enjoyed it too.”

Beaming at her words, you blushed. “I’d love to, and I’ve enjoyed it too. But is that all you wanted to talk about?”

Agatha left one hand on your waist as the other gently reached to cradle your face. “It can wait until tonight dear.”

She pressed her lips to your forehead for a sweet and gentle kiss before letting go of your waist. “Now, if you’ll come with me. I believe they should be arriving any minute now.”

Before you could ask what, or rather who, was arriving, Agatha was already halfway down the hallway; leaving you to awkwardly trail after her. You never understood how she was able to walk so quickly in those heels. Just as you managed to catch up to her, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw occurring in the concert hall. There were children, hundreds of children, all excitedly entering the hall. Somehow the four interns you wrangled into waiting in the lobby had called for reinforcements, as there were now around a dozen interns and orchestra personnel guiding the school children and their teachers to seats.

For a brief moment you were brought back in time to your first visit to the symphony when you were a child. The hall seemed mammoth sized, with the shimmery chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, and the thousands of seats. Seeing a full symphony orchestra for the first time, as you rapidly fired off the name of every instrument you spotted to your parents. Watching the professional violinists warm up and prepare for the concert. It was what inspired you to want to perform in the first place.

Agatha was conversing with the stage manager and you stared at her in disbelief. This is what she was off doing today? However she pulled this off, after Hayward made a clear point of canceling it, was beyond you. She caught you staring in the midst of her conversation, and merely winked at you before motioning with what she wanted to do with the stage lights. Darcy walked by you at that moment, her mallets in one hand and her music in the other.

“I have to say, I can’t believe she managed to make this happen,” Darcy said to you. “Hayward’s going to have a total fit.”

“Yeah no kidding,” You shuddered at the thought of Hayward finding out. “Did you know about this?”

Darcy shook her head. “I just perform here.”

It took another fifteen minutes to get everyone in their seats, and in the meantime you joined Agatha backstage. The conductor was lightly pacing, and every few minutes appeared to be peering out into the crowd.

“You did this all on your own?” You asked quietly, as various musicians made their way to their seats. “Today?”

Agatha shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Hayward seems to forget that this isn’t his orchestra, it’s mine. It’s about time he remembers who’s in charge.”

“How did you even get all of these kids here? I’m sure when Hayward canceled the field trip the schools canceled the transportation they had lined up.” You prompted, still amazed at the different obstacles you’re sure she had to face to do this in such a short amount of time.

Giving you a pointed look, Agatha gave you a small smirk. “I’m Agatha Harkness, dear.”

“You gave them a lot of money, didn’t you?”

Rolling her eyes at you, she chuckled lightly, before motioning to the hall. “What do you think?”

“I’m…” You trailed off, still in shock at what the conductor had done. It was so thoughtful, and considerate. You hadn’t given much thought to the topic before today but you’d ignorantly assumed Agatha didn’t like children. Clearly you were wrong. Realizing you had stayed quiet for too long you said the first thing that came to mind, the only thing on your mind. You loved her. “I-.”

“We’re ready to begin whenever you are, Maestra.” The stage manager announced as they approached you.

Agatha nodded. “Thank you. You can tell Wanda and the concertmaster to make their entrances.”

Once they walked away, you panicked as Agatha looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You gave the conductor’s arm a playful punch. “Break a leg.”

She looked at you as if you’d lost your mind, but the sounds of the orchestra tuning roused her from whatever she must have been thinking. Turning away, she went to join Wanda near the stage door, and shot you another curious glance before heading out on stage.

Break a leg? What was wrong with you? You had a tendency to freeze in situations that made you nervous, and you were usually nervous around Agatha. There was something about her that constantly left you on the edge of your seat. You were so scared of disappointing her, and you were just as scared of getting hurt. That was part of the problem. You knew you loved Agatha, you’d been in love with her for a while. It was as easy as breathing. But the thought of being that vulnerable and open terrified you. What if she didn’t find this to be as serious of a relationship as you did?

The performance was going a lot better than the earlier rehearsal had. Even though you were stuck backstage, you could hear everything perfectly and there were moments where you pretended you were performing too. Being alone, with a concert going on a few feet away from you was all it took for you to admit that you were going to miss performing. Agatha had brought up the idea of you auditioning for the next open chair a few times, but the blind audition was still in the back of your mind so you politely refused. You wondered if you were crazy for turning down a chance to perform in Vienna with one of your all time favorite musicians.

You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to the concert until there was a surge of applause and some light cheering from the audience. You snuck out the side entrance to stand in the back of the hall, just in time to witness Agatha motioning for the orchestra to stand up. She shook the concertmaster’s hand before walking off stage, and when the applause eventually died down she came back out. You watched her say something inaudible to the orchestra, who were still in their seats.

A few of the children had gotten out of their seats and were lingering at the front of the stage. Agatha eventually noticed them, and surprised you once more as she waved for them to come up to join her. Still too far away to hear what they were saying, you felt your heart swell as Agatha handed one of them her baton, and helped them up on the podium. The rest of the group had scattered around various orchestra members who began demonstrating how to play their instruments. You forgot how long you stood there, until Agatha noticed you in the crowd, and motioned for you to come join them.

Wanda had come back out at this point, and had two of the children sitting on the piano bench, and was laughing with delight as she showed them how to play simple chords. Meanwhile, the violin section was swarmed, and you could make out Monica and the new violinist, John, allowing the kids to hold their bows. Agatha was having them stand on the podium, one by one. She would hand them her baton, and show them the proper way to hold it. This went on for some time, until finally the buses arrived and the interns had the children in neat lines to exit the hall.

When the doors shut once more, Agatha tapped her baton once more. “I know all of you are probably eager to head home, I have a few announcements. First, a reminder that the call time for tomorrow evening is 6:00 sharp. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you should know that being early is being on time, and being on time is being late.” She pointed her baton at the brass section. “Trumpets, I’m looking at you. No strolling in at 6:01, I want you backstage, unpacked and warmed up by 6:00.”

After a brief moment of silence, she continued. “Secondly, thank you all for the performance today. In all my years of performing and conducting, I’ve always enjoyed these concerts the most. There’s something quite special about what we do, when we do it well.”

Agatha seemed to have the whole orchestra hanging on to her every word. Despite her occasional outbursts and sarcastic quips, she was a beyond captivating public speaker. “I know some people on the board don’t feel it is necessary, as it doesn’t bring in enough money,” She scoffed, and Hayward’s words replayed in your mind. “But there is nothing more important than sharing this gift we have with the next generation. After all, there’s a good chance some of them might end up sitting in the very same chairs you’re occupying now.”

“One final thing,” Agatha added, as she closed her Dvorak score. “I know I’ve been rather hard on all of you for the past few months, but it’s because I see the potential this orchestra has. I don’t want the Manhattan Symphony to just be a good orchestra, I want it to be the best, and I know that’s possible.”

She picked her scores off the stand, and by reflex you grabbed them from her. “We aren’t a great orchestra yet, we aren’t the best. But I’m proud of the work you’re putting in,” She nodded her head to the winds, “All of you. Which is why I have planned a little something for tomorrow. I know most of you take public transportation to get to and from rehearsals, but tomorrow night I’ll be sending each of you a town car to take you to and from the concert.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head from shock. A quick look around the room confirmed everyone else, including a lingering Wanda, was just as flabbergasted as you. A few people were clapping, others were offering their thanks to the conductor who waved it away. “None of that. Tomorrow will be the start of a new era for the Manhattan Symphony, and I want all of you to feel like stars.” She stepped off the podium. “That will be all, thank you everyone.”

On the walk back to the conductor’s office, you asked the question that had been practically burning a hole in your brain all afternoon. “How did you manage to get all of this done today?”

“I already had the school concert resolved earlier in the week,” Agatha stated as she unlocked the door, allowing you to step inside first. “The town car was an idea I came up with this morning.”

“You do know that they really think the world of you,” You teased, causing Agatha to scowl, but it was true. Agatha’s added pressure and high expectations was pushing the orchestra to new heights.

“I’d prefer they think nothing of me,” She quipped, packing her scores and belongings up in her bag, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course, Maestra.”

The rest of the day was uneventful, and your dinner with Agatha turned into takeout on her couch, as you were both too exhausted from the day to do anything else. But it was perfect. You were so happy, and so content. You wanted it to stay like this forever.

The day of the concert proved to be pure madness. You decided to ride to the symphony center in the early evening with Agatha in an attempt to calm her down. The conductor had been in a mood all day, wanting to make last minute changes that you knew were impossible. You finally were able to help her calm down on the walk to her office, and she shooed you away as she carried her garment bag containing her outfit inside. Agatha had convinced you to wear an all black ensemble, and told you that you’d blend in well backstage (which you weren’t entirely sure was a compliment but you listened to her).

You waited outside her office door for some time before she finally said you could come back in. The conductor’s back was facing the wall and you barely made it through the door when she instructed you to close it. As she turned around, you gasped. Agatha had changed into a black Armani pantsuit that made her ass look fantastic. Her hair was as tamed as it ever had been, with her curly waves flowing over her shoulders and her makeup stage dark. She looked beautiful.

“You look…” You momentarily lost the ability to speak as you tried to not gawk at her. “You look incredible, wow.”

Agatha smirked at you, “Thank you, darling.” She pulled you closer to her. “I saw you checking out my ass as well.”

You blushed and wriggled in her grasp. “I was not checking you out. I was just…admiring the view.”

That made Agatha cackle as she grabbed your waist, nibbling on your ear and whispering, “Oh? Admiring the view, hm?”

You turned your head to capture her lips in a kiss. Kissing Agatha was so easy, just like breathing. Her lips moved against yours and you made a happy humming noise as she deepened it. Agatha’s teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, drawing blood before she sucked, and you moaned at the sensation. She did it twice more before gently pulling away, kissing you once more.

“Wow,” You breathed out, wishing there wasn’t a concert soon so you could continue. “That was…really good.”

Agatha smirked as she went back to her bookshelf. “Indeed it was. I have a few things to do before the concert, dear. Would you mind checking on how things are going backstage?”

You nodded and as you went to leave, you subtly looked back at Agatha. Her ass did look really good.

“I can feel you staring.” She called out, not turning around, causing you to blush and practically run out of her office.

Keeping yourself busy, you helped the interns keep track of who was arriving. You marked off orchestra member after orchestra member until only one remained. After waiting for what you felt was a sufficient amount of time, you decided to go find Agatha.

“John still hasn’t shown up,” You informed Agatha, who was shutting her office door. “Has anyone heard from him?”

Agatha arched an eyebrow. “He’s missing? How horrible. We should send out a search party.”

“Agatha, that’s not funny. You had a car sent to pick him up, right? Maybe we can call the service company to see if something happened?”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Agatha waved off your concern. “Walker won’t be here in time.”

“How could you possibly know that?” You questioned, until a dark thought washed over you. “Oh my god, did you do this?”

Cackling, Agatha rubbed your arm, amused by your horror. “Relax darling. You’re acting as if I killed him. He’s currently driving through New Jersey, I believe. I have some friends in Westview. Nice town, quaint, but unfortunately it’s not where he needs to be.”

“Agatha!” You exclaimed, not comprehending why she would send one of the first violinists on a road trip. “Why would you do that?”

Shrugging, the conductor started walking away. “Looks like we’ll need to find a substitute player. What a shame, the concert is in fifteen minutes. That’s not a lot of time to find someone.”

All but chasing after her, realization dawned on you, and you lightly grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Agatha, I don’t have my violin. It’s at my apartment, and there’s no way I could get there and back in time and-”

You should have been used to this by now, but you were effectively silenced as Agatha kissed you. Firmly grabbing you by your hips, she pulled you closer and lightly bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to whine. Before you could even react, she pulled back, and smirked. “You’re really too easy, dear.”

“First, no I’m not. You just caught me by surprise.” You pouted, turning slightly red, and Agatha’s resounding cackle made you blushed even harder. “Second, I still don’t have my violin, and I doubt you have a solution for that.”

“Oh, I don’t?” Agatha frowned, and continued to the concert hall. “Thirteen minutes. Chop chop.”

You reluctantly took off after her, not sure what the use was when you didn’t have a violin to play. When you walked backstage, you were surprised to find your roommate standing near a table, scrolling on his phone.

“Sam?“ The sound of your voice causing him to look up. “What are you doing here?”

“Agatha called me,” Sam pulled your violin case out from under the table. “I’m not sure how she got my number, but she said you needed this.”

Deciding it wasn’t that important to figure out how Agatha acquired your roommate’s phone number at this very moment, you threw yourself at him in a hug. “Oh my gosh! Sam, thank you!”

“Yeah of course, Y/N.” Sam laughed as he hugged you back. “I’ve gotta say, your girlfriend is quite persistent, and scary.” He pulled out a pair of tickets from his coat pocket. “But she gave me and Bucky tickets so we can watch you perform.”

Your heart did flip flops at the mention of Agatha being your girlfriend. Is that what she was now? Your eyes drifted over the room until you found her across from you, talking to the concertmaster. She caught you staring, she always caught you staring, and winked before returning to her conversation. You couldn’t believe she did this for you.

Giving Sam a final hug, you took your violin case. “I’m really glad you’re here, but you should probably get to your seat. I think the concert is starting soon.”

“Break a leg out there!” Sam said encouragingly as he walked out of the room.

Quickly finding a place to set down your violin case, you opened it up and grabbed your bow. You always made sure to loosen the hairs before putting it away each time you practiced to prevent the bow from becoming warped. Taking a moment to tighten it, you then grabbed your rosin and applied a generous amount. The last step was to make sure you were in tune. You always kept an electronic tuner in your case, but had a tuning app on your phone as well. It took you a little longer than normal, the fall air was becoming colder as the days went on, and it made your violin more difficult to tune. Finally, you were ready.

The rest of the MSO was either already on stage, or making their way to their seats. A few people congratulated you on performing again as you passed them, but the one person you wanted to talk to was nowhere to be found. Where did Agatha wander off to now? You could spot Darcy with another percussionist, a few of the other first violins who were heading on stage, and an agitated looking Tyler Hayward who was heading your way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hayward all but seethed, his face turning red. “And where is John?”

“Um…” Trailing off, you looked around but still couldn’t locate Agatha. “He’s running late, so Maestra Harkness is having me fill in until he gets here.”

“Very convenient that the violinist I hired goes missing right before the season opener is about to begin.” Hayward said, his voice laced with venom. “And Harkness has no right asking you to fill in. Put your violin away, you’re not performing.”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Hayward?” Wanda’s voice echoed through the room, and you whipped your head around at the sound of it and almost gasped.

The pianist had changed from her usual attire into a beautiful one-shoulder a-line scarlet gown. The pattern of the dress made there appear to be rose petals scattered throughout it. Her hair was curled and pinned to the side. She looked beautiful.

“Y/N?” Wanda's voice broke you out of your trance. “Is everything okay?”

“This doesn’t involve you, Miss Maximoff.” Hayward replied, his voice lowering in volume.

“Perhaps it involves me, then?” Agatha all but growled, and you were worried she would try to impale Hayward with her baton. “What’s going on here? Y/N why aren’t you onstage?”

“What did you do with John, Harkness?” Hayward’s face was turning a rather impressive shade of red. “The number of rules you have broken in the past two days alone is grounds for your firing. I heard about your impromptu concert yesterday. You’re lucky I didn't call the board immediately to have you removed.”

“I could say the same of you,” Agatha said conversationally. “You know, I heard the most fascinating things from Loki Laufeyson about you yesterday at the donor brunch.” She shook her head at the man in disapproval. “Embezzling symphony funds, Tyler? I don’t think the board would approve of that either.”

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she held it out. “Perhaps you’d like to give them a call? It shouldn’t take more than a minute for them to get backstage.”

Hayward’s face instantly paled. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll discuss this later.“

He stormed off without another word, slamming the door behind him. Agatha immediately turned to you, seemingly having forgotten that Wanda was standing right there. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You insisted. “Wanda showed up before it got worse. Thank you by the way, Wanda. Your timing is always impeccable.”

“It was my pleasure,” Wanda assured you, smiling brightly.

“If only all of your entrances were as impeccable, Maximoff,” Agatha taunted lightly, but her tone was more lighthearted than before. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Agatha,” Wanda replied with a small smile.

They were finally sort of getting along. It was about time. You finally walked on stage, where the rest of the orchestra was warming up. Monica looked thrilled to see you once you finally sat down.

“Hey stand partner,” She greeted you with a warm grin. “What, did Maestra kill John tonight to get rid of him?”

“Not quite, I guess he got stuck in traffic,” You whispered, which wasn’t a total lie.

At that moment an automated voice played over the speakers, reminding the audience to have their cellphones silenced, and announced that the concert would begin shortly. That was usually the signal for the orchestra to stop warming up, and sure enough the concertmaster came walking out a few moments later. There was applause from the audience, and after they bowed, it was time to tune the orchestra. Jimmy lifted up his oboe to play an A, and the woodwinds and brass tuned first. Then after a brief pause, Jimmy played another A and the string section, including yourself, tuned your instruments.

Finally, the doors opened and Wanda followed closely by Agatha came walking out. There was thunderous applause from the audience, and you had briefly forgotten how famous both Agatha and Wanda were. Agatha lifted her hand to signal the orchestra should stand for the applause. Looking out in the crowd you finally felt a wave of nerves rush over you. This definitely had to be the largest crowd you’d ever performed in, like…ever. You’d barely had time to think about if you could really do this. Were you ready?

Unfortunately you were out of time to decide that, as Agatha was raising her baton. Lifting your violin you waited for the downbeat and let go of any doubts in your brain. Wanda played the opening chords of the Rachmaninoff somehow more perfectly than in any rehearsal. She was so fluid in her movements it was like nothing you had ever experienced before. She played with such passion, such raw and unrelenting emotions, and with every run and cadenza it was as if she was pouring her entire heart out.

The second movement, the Adagio sostenuto, was breathtakingly beautiful with Wanda playing a sweet melody, accompanied by the orchestra. It was as heartbreaking as it was hopeful with the start of each new cadence. Somehow you enjoyed Wanda playing this softer melody even more than the fury of intense runs up and down the keys. Towards the end of the movement the first violins took over the melody, and you could practically feel your soul singing along as you played out. You had missed this, you’d missed it with every fiber of your being. Being on stage, performing in an orchestra, this is what you were meant to do.

Although you had been looking up at Agatha throughout the piece so far, she had been too wrapped up in making sure everyone was following the correct tempo. However this time, towards the end of the movement, you made brief, but direct eye contact, and you swore she smiled at you. Finally it was the third and final movement, the Allegro scherzando. While the second movement had been more subdued, the third was the complete opposite. Wanda, somehow still full of energy and seemingly not tired, effortlessly played all of her runs at the new, fast tempo.

The movement all but sped by, and you switched your focus between the music on the page and stealing glances at Wanda. She was beyond captivating, with her glissandos up and down the piano, her final cadenza practically had you hypnotized. The last few minutes of the concerto had Wanda playing her practically impossible chords as the orchestra sped into playing the final phrases, and you watched as Agatha cut everyone off.

The concert hall erupted into tumultuous applause, and Wanda stood up for her bow. There was some whistling from the audience, and the applause somehow got louder. After a while, Wanda walked off stage, and then came back for her encore. At this point it seemed that the entire hall had stood up, and you were nearly glowing from how blissful you felt in that very moment. When the applause finally died down, there was a brief intermission to reset the stage and move the piano. You waited backstage, and made a point to hydrate while you waited for the intermission to end.

Wanda eventually came over, accompanied by Natasha Romanov. The pianist had her arms full of flowers, as well as what looked to be a homemade card, presumably from her sons. Natasha, meanwhile, was helping her carry her loot.

“Wanda, you were incredible!” You exclaimed, and the pianist beamed.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N. Thank you. I think it went rather well,” Wanda said modestly, and Natasha snorted.

“Humble as ever, Wands,” Natasha joked.

“It’s really nice to see you again, Miss Romanov,” You greeted the violinist, and you meant it.

Natasha nodded, as Wanda excused herself to talk to other members of the orchestra. “I was happy to hear you changed your mind on Vienna. We’re excited to have you. The group is a bit smaller than this orchestra, but we have a lot of great repertoire lined up.”

“I don’t…” You were at a loss for words. “Excuse me?”

“I was a bit surprised to hear you reconsidered,” Natasha added. “My assistant said you’d called earlier this morning to ask for the contract and travel details.”

Now, you had been a bit spacey over the past week with stress of concert preparations, but you knew that you did not contact Natasha. That left only one person. Agatha. But how did she even find out? Your eyes trailed over to Wanda, who was praising Dottie on one of her solos, before realizing you were being ridiculous. You knew Wanda wouldn’t have said anything. But, it was clear Agatha was behind this. You just weren’t sure why.

“Of course,” You finally answered, deciding you would correct the mistake later. “I’ve…just had so much on my mind.”

Natasha nodded once more. “Well, for what it’s worth I think you made the right choice. I’m looking forward to working with you. I’ll see you next Saturday.”

She then excused herself to go back to Wanda just as the backstage lights flickered, signaling the end of the intermission. Great, you thought sarcastically, perfect timing. Scanning the room for Agatha, you realized you were out of time to find her, you needed to get back onstage. Grabbing your violin, you wracked your brain on if Agatha had done anything to suggest she knew about the audition, but you had nothing.

How could she do this? You’d made your decision, and you weren’t planning on changing it. Yes, you loved performing, it was what you’d always wanted; but now you wanted Agatha too. You didn’t want to move to Vienna and potentially lose her, you weren’t sure you could handle that. So, you made the executive decision to turn down the offer. As the orchestra tuned again, your brain anxiously went over any possible reason you could think of for why Agatha would have done this. Was she trying to get rid of you?

Agatha walked out on stage to more thunderous applause, and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t worry about this now, you’d talk to her after and everything would be okay. As the first movement began, you slowly felt yourself begin to relax. Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, or The New World Symphony, was still one of your all time favorites. Everything felt big and loud, and you were thrilled to be part of it.

Everyone else seemed to be more relaxed for the second half, even Agatha. Putting your mixed feelings aside for the moment, you couldn’t help but observe Agatha like this. With every rehearsal she seemed to let her guard down more, and more. She was wildly conducting, and her hair was practically bouncing off her shoulders. The way she moved her hands was like she was telling a story, and you were always so mesmerized by it. She looked so serene when she was like this, and just like at the first rehearsal she was paying no mind to the score. Instead she was cueing the various sections for their entrances, and once you reached the end of the first movement she seemed to gain more energy as she ended her hands with a flourish.

The second movement has always been one of your favorites. It was less complex than the first movement, but still required you to use the proper techniques. Agatha once told you the most common mistake a musician makes is just playing the music on the page. She said there was so much more to it than just that, and she was right. It didn’t matter how simple a piece appeared to be, there were dynamics, phrasing, vibrato, and at least a dozen other things to keep in mind while you were performing. Making music and sharing it was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and you always made sure to give it your all.

This pattern continued all the way to the finale, the fourth movement. Agatha was practically jumping up and down on the podium as she conducted the opening phrase. Once again, you forced yourself to just concentrate on the music, and as the movement progressed you became bewitched from watching Agatha conduct. You had always understood why Agatha was as successful as she was. She was driven, motivated, beyond musically gifted. But there was one thing you had always failed to notice. When Agatha was on the podium, she could be herself. In these moments where she had her baton and the orchestra in front of her was when she was her most vulnerable. She was incredible and spellbinding, and you were hopelessly in love with her.

The ending of the last minute was a swell of notes from the brass section and a melody that sent the first violins high up on the fingerboard. It was extremely challenging to play in tune without falling behind, but you managed to do it. When Agatha conducted the final chord, you felt as if you were going to fall out of your chair. It was over, you did it. There was an outburst of applause from the audience, you lost track of how many times Agatha walked off and on stage from the standing ovations. You don’t even remember walking off stage and packing up your violin, or congratulating Monica and your friends in the MSO. You barely remembered the walk to Agatha’s office, until you were knocking on the door.

Agatha opened it and gave you that special smile she seemed to have reserved just for you. “Darling, come in. I’m so proud of you. How did it feel to perform?”

“It felt incredible,” You admitted, giving her a curious look. “Did you plan all of this tonight so I could perform?”

“Not all of it,” Agatha corrected you, but she was still smiling. “I knew you were more than capable of doing this, and I wanted to remind you.”

As soon as she said those words it all started to make sense. “You thought I’d change my mind about Vienna.”

Your words seemed to startle the conductor, who looked at you in surprise. “I didn’t-”

You cut her off with, “I know you know, Agatha.”

“How?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Natasha mentioned how happy she was that I called her assistant earlier this morning and changed my mind,” You repeated what Natasha had told you during intermission.

“You know, I should be the one who’s angry with you, dear,” Agatha pointed out, as she placed her baton on her desk.

Of course she’d say that. Sighing, you moved closer to her. “How do you figure?”

“You had weeks to tell me about Vienna, and you didn’t,” Agatha remarked, and you detected some hurt in her tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no point in telling you when I already made up my mind,” You stated, growing irritated with her. “I don’t want to move to Vienna, I want to be with you.”

“You can’t be my assistant forever,” Agatha argued, leaning against her desk. “And this is a solid job opportunity, Y/N. It would be foolish to turn it down.”

Throwing your head back in frustration, you took a deep breath before replying. “I already turned it down, Agatha. It was my decision, why can’t you accept that? Do you really not want me to stay?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Yes, Y/N. I absolutely loathe having you here. This is all part of my master plan to get rid of you.”

“Real mature,” You quipped, losing interest in arguing with her. “How did you even find out about my audition?”

“Wanda mentioned something about Natasha Romanov the other day, and I did some digging,” Agatha replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “It wasn’t that hard to put the pieces together. I didn’t even know you had gotten the job until I called Romanov’s assistant and pretended to be you.”

You stared at her in disbelief. “You went through all of that work instead of just asking me?”

“In my defense, would you have told me?” Agatha asked, and you realized she had a point.

“I don’t know.” You looked guiltily at her. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Agatha waved a hand at your apology before pulling you closer to her. “It’s okay darling, I’m not angry.”

You nestled your face in her neck before mumbling, “I’m still not taking that job though. We’re going to be okay, right?”

Agatha stroked your hair and for a moment you thought you felt her breath hitch. “Of course dear, of course we are.”

The next week passed by slowly as the post concert high began to wear off. Agatha had given you the week off work, which you didn’t realize you needed until you slept for over 16 hours straight from exhaustion. Things with Agatha were a little better after your discussion post concert, but there was still something that felt off. You didn’t know how to describe it, and maybe it was just your anxiety messing with you, but Agatha felt distant. She had invited you to spend the week at her townhouse, and you hoped that meant you would spend more time together but you’d barely seen the conductor- she’d spent the majority of her time at the office while you puttered around her home.

A week after the concert you were in bed reading a book when she sent you a text to meet her at the concert hall, and to bring your violin. You arrived nearly an hour later, out of breath as you practically ran the last few blocks. The lights were dim throughout the hall, save for the stage, where Agatha was sitting, waiting for you. As you approached her, you noticed how distracted she appeared to be.

“Hey, sorry it took me so long. I tried to get a cab but traffic was crazy so I ended up just walking.” you explained, still trying to catch your breath. Agatha didn’t say anything, so you continued. “I forgot my music at home, what did you want to work on?”

Agatha sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. “Y/N, we need to talk.”

You felt your heartbeat stop at her words, and you tried to tell yourself it was probably nothing bad. It couldn’t be anything bad, right? “Okay, talk about what?”

The moment she met your eyes was when you knew it was over.

“No,” You managed to get out, looking at her as tears threatened to escape. “No, no, no, no.”

Agatha took a deep breath, before standing up. “Y/N, please don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Her words sounded so cold and distant, but you could barely hear her over the sounds of your pulse ringing in your ears. Your chest slowly tightened, and you could barely breathe as you fought the tears hard, unwilling to cry in front of her. Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? I thought we were happy. I thought you were happy. Am I not making you happy?”

“This isn’t about my happiness, Y/N, it’s about you,” Agatha said gently, and you couldn’t look at her. You knew if you did you’d start crying and you wouldn’t be able to stop. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but this is for the best.”

“You have no right to tell me what will be the best thing for me, Agatha. That’s complete bullshit.”

Agatha sighed, as if she couldn’t believe you were reacting this way. “Y/N…”

The tears that you’d been fighting had finally started to fall. “This isn’t fair, you said we were going to be okay. You told me that.”

“I’m sorry,” Agatha whispered, and you finally looked up to find her staring at you as if she’d never see you again. “I’m sorry, but this is over. I can’t do this anymore.”

“So that’s it?” You questioned. “We’re over? Just like that?”

“I’m not going to allow you to throw away your career because of me,” Agatha retorted, growing more annoyed. “And don’t act like this is so easy for me. I lo-”

Your eyes widened and Agatha’s quickly shut. Despite how quickly she cut herself off, you heard what she almost said. She loves you. Agatha Harkness loves you.

“I love you too,” You whispered, tears streaming down your face. “But you don’t have to do this. I’ll take the job in Vienna and we can stay together, okay? Wouldn’t that be okay?” Agatha remained silent and you tried again. “Please?”

“A clean break is for the best,” Agatha insisted, even as you continued to cry. “You’re going to go to Vienna and flourish, Y/N. Your career is just beginning and I can’t wait to see how far you go.”

“Agatha, no, please.”

She gently wiped the tears from your face before cupping your cheek. “You’re going to be okay, I promise you will be. You’re going to look back at all of this one day and it will be nothing more than a fuzzy memory.”

“I don’t want that, I want you,” You protested, breaking free of her grasp. “Please, if you love me you won’t do this.”

“I’m doing this because I love you, darling,” Agatha corrected you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. Her lips lingered for an extra second and again you felt her breath hitch. As she pulled away, you watched her regain composure.

“Try not to forget any of our lessons, hm?” She reminded you, as she lightly grabbed your chin, but you refused to look at her. “Maybe one day you’ll be the soloist for this very orchestra.”

It felt as if time was slowing down, and there was nothing you could do but sit on the stage and listen to Agatha attempt to rationalize why this was a good idea. As she was speaking you knew her mind was made up, and it didn’t matter how much you cried or begged, she wasn’t going to change it. You realized then that one of the most challenging parts of falling in love with her was coming to the realization that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t save yourself from having your heart shattered if she changed her fickle mind about you. In a strange way, this felt inevitable.

It was a lot like performing, in a way. When you were in the midst of a performance, it was pure ecstasy, and you would ride off that high until the very end. It felt like you were flying, and every movement of your bow sent you higher and higher through the sky. But there was always the fear of falling, of missing an entrance or not hitting the right note, and that would send you plummeting to the ground. Practice could eliminate many of those errors, but you’d learned over the years that sometimes life could throw you curveballs.This is what that felt like, as Agatha all but held your heart in her hands, letting it all fall. There was nothing else to be done, you had to let go.

You never felt like you really knew the right thing to say, and it always felt as if you figured it out when it was too late. But this was the first time you knew what you wanted to say, and you were finally sure. When you opened your mouth, you felt your throat clench from the pain that was aching in your chest. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked up to find her eyes locked on yours. “It’s okay, I’m going to be okay.”

It didn’t feel that way now, it felt like your world was collapsing, but you weren’t saying those words for yourself. You were saying them for her. The rational side of your brain was arguing that Agatha hadn’t been a part of your life for very long, but the few months you spent with her had more of a lasting impact on you than relationships that lasted for years.

You had learned a lot of things from Agatha- you had learned that she preferred her coffee to be scorching hot. You knew she was an incredible cook, and that she had a library full of books that would take you years to get through. She had a soft spot for Señor Scratchy, and she had a terrible sweet tooth. Even though she enjoyed terrorizing the interns, she was also fiercely protective of them against Hayward and anyone else who tried to harass them. And now, you realize, she has taught you one, last valuable lesson- nothing truly good can stay.

Agatha Harkness was one of the most complicated and absolutely infuriating individuals you had ever encountered, but you loved her. You had always loved her, and you probably always will. So now, you now had to do this for the both of you- to assuage whatever guilt she might be feeling and to gather the remains of your dignity.

Agatha froze, and you could see her tense up at your words, and you continued. “I’m going to be okay. You can let me go.”

In the countless hours you’d spent in the conductor’s presence, you never saw her cry. But there was a single tear slowly streaming down her cheek, and you slowly wiped it off. “It’s okay, Agatha. I promise.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, her or you.

Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over yours, leaving it on her cheek. You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, huddled together in the empty concert hall, but it was over all too soon when she finally took a step back. “You have a flight to catch, dear. The itinerary I had sent over stated that rehearsal starts tomorrow.”

Just as you went to tell her you didn’t have a plane ticket, or a suitcase packed, she pulled an envelope out of her coat pocket. Handing it to you, it was not a huge surprise when you found a one way plane ticket to Vienna inside. You felt your chest tighten again. “When did you buy this?”

“When I found out you got the job,” Agatha replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m horrified at the prospect of flying in coach, so it’s first class.”

Under normal circumstances you would have laughed, but you don’t think you were capable of that at the moment. “I don’t even have my luggage, or my passport.”

“I have a bag packed of all the things you’ve left at my place, and I’ll send over whatever else you need once you get settled,” Agatha countered, and after a pause continued with, “And Sam gave me your passport yesterday.” She pulled the passport out of her other pocket. At your horrified glance, she gently shushed you before you could get a word out. “He didn’t know what it was for, I said it was a surprise.”

She had done all of this because she knew it was the only way to get you on that plane. Now, you were still angry with her for making this decision without you, but you were running out of time. You both were. Standing up, you closed the distance between the two of you, and kissed her. Agatha’s lips melted into yours, and you tried to forget that this was the last time you’d be with her like this. Unlike many of the other times you kissed her, there was no desperation or urgency. You were just two people in love, getting ready to say goodbye. Your face was still soaked with tears when you finally pulled back, and you saw it was partially due to Agatha. The conductor’s single tear had turned into at least a dozen.

“I really do love you,” Agatha said, and you had never doubted that. “I hope you know that.” You did, you knew.

“I really love you too,” You said, your voice starting to crack from the sobs that were attempting to come out again.

“Hank will take you to the airport,” Agatha added, rolling out the suitcase she had hidden behind the stairs. You had still partially been in denial that you had to leave, and the closer it got didn’t make it any easier. The conductor kissed your forehead again, and gently stroked your hair before releasing you for the last time. “It’s time to go, darling.”

Walking out of the concert hall, with Agatha rolling your luggage out, you grabbed her hand, while telling yourself it was going to be okay. Every step was a painful reminder that you had seconds left with her. When you made it outside, you saw the town car parked out front, with Hank waiting. You had never been good at goodbyes, or dealing with change so you usually avoided them when you could. But there was no escaping Agatha, who politely waved Hank back in the car as she put your luggage in the trunk. This was it.

Agatha opened your door, and carefully placed your violin case in the backseat. “Don’t forget to loosen your pegs before you take off. Wouldn’t want any of the strings to break.”

You knew her well enough to know she was trying to make light of the situation, but she didn’t have to. “Thank you, for everything.”

“I meant it when I told you I saw a lot of potential in you,” Agatha said quietly, and was nervously fidgeting her hands. “You’re a lot more talented than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. You need to stop apologizing for taking up space, and start demanding more of it.” She cradled your face in her hands one last time, giving you a sweet and gentle kiss. “Knock ‘em dead.”

She helped you in the car, and you desperately wished for her to get in with you, but you knew she wouldn’t. It wasn’t until after she shut the door did reality finally sink in. You were leaving, without her. The car windows were tinted but you could make out Agatha standing there, watching you drive away until you rounded a corner and she disappeared. While the tears had flowed nonstop before, you found that now you couldn’t cry no matter how hard you tried. You just sat there, watching the city you spent years loving pass you by. The pain that had been building up in your chest had finally imploded, and left you numb.

You weren’t sure what the future would hold now. Vienna could be a complete waste of time, and maybe you would come back and try to reconcile with Agatha. There was a small voice in the back of your mind pointing out that there was also a chance you would love it there. It was impossible to say now with your heartbreak so fresh and still causing your entire body to ache with pain. So you did the only thing that would help right now. Pulling your headphones out of your bag, you put them on. Scrolling through your library of songs, you knew there was only one you wanted to hear.

Vitali’s Chaconne in G Minor. You sat back in your seat as the opening notes played. It was funny, in a way, thinking that all of this started because of this piece. You thought back to that fateful day in the concert hall, meeting Agatha for the first time. Who knew then that it would lead to all of this? Allowing your shattered heart to be soothed by the calming sound of the violin and piano, you looked at the plane ticket Agatha gave you. You didn’t know what was going to happen now, and you certainly didn’t know if you were ready for it. But if you had learned anything from Agatha, it was to worry less and act more. You didn’t have to have all of the answers, or any answer right now. All you had to do was get on that plane and perform.

Agatha Harkness had made you fall in love harder than you ever had before, and managed to crush every expectation of love you ever believed in the exact same way. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to forgive her for doing this, but that wasn’t important now. Turning your focus back on the music, you were reminded of how much you loved this piece. It was like Agatha said all those months ago, not enough violinists appreciated the beauty of a chaconne. But you did, and you intended to continue on wherever your journey took you next.

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