been in my drafts for a while so here we go

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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I love the Matt/Shiro BrOTP so have some headcanons that have been sitting in my drafts for weeks

-Matt is a living meme and Shiro questions their friendship every day

-“You know you love me~”

-Everyone questions how someone so calm and mature can be best friends with Matt and Matt kinda laughs in their face

-Matt: Calm? Mature? This guy almost fought a five-year-old over a chocolate bar!
Shiro: I really like the brand oKAY???

-Matt has tried to set Shiro up on one too many dates. It’s really easy since everyone and their mother has a crush on Shiro but Shiro needs Matt to stop.

-He did after a while until Shiro developed a crush on Allura. Cupid Matt was back. Shiro wanted to kill himself.

-Constantly making fun of each other because they love each other

-Shiro: Matt, if you don’t stop, I will literally sit on you.
Matt: Try me.
*high-pitched screams*

-You wouldn’t believe how often that happens. Spoil alert: A lot.

-They’re pretty competitive when it comes to each other. Whether it comes to bets or board games. Tears are shed. Friendships are broken. It gets pretty intense.

-Matt: I got to move on and be who I am! I just don’t belong here, I hope you understand! We might find our place in this world someday. But at least for now, I gotta find my own way…
Shiro: Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic over a pizza slice?

-Once Shiro ate the last brownie and Matt wouldn’t talk to him for a week. The dude really loves his food.

-Shiro: No.
Matt: This is homophobia at its finest. ://

-Once they had a convo on what their ship name would be if they dated, Shiro came up with Shatt, Matt disowned him

-Death jokes make up half of their friendship.

-Shiro: I’m going to propel myself off of this balcony.
-Matt: Not without me, you’re not.

i found this post in my drafts and have ZERO memory of writing it (thank u alcohol) so im gonna put it in my queue lol
  • ok but imagine 
  • Bitty comes out to his parents but he doesn’t tell them about Jack, thinks it’s for the best, maybe to ease his parents into things or maybe to keep the pool of People Who Know as small as possible 
  • and like yeah Ransom and Holster are super oblivious but Suzanne Bittle is not, not when it comes to her son, because she is a certified Nosy Southern Mother and she can see he’s been acting differently, happier but quieter, always on his phone and blushing when she asks about boys
  • and he talks about the team a LOT 
  • Jack’s one of his best friends and he’s just started his NHL career, so of course Bitty’s never gonna shut up about Jack
  • (Same goes for Shitty and law school. And eventually Ransom and med school. Dicky is proud of his friends and wants everyone to know. He gets that trait from Suzanne, she understands)
  • but he keeps talking about this one Boy, how sweet he is and how his smile is like a sack of puppies and how bitty’s always making this boy do things with him like baking and getting froyo and going shopping and Suzanne is like. Yes. This must be Dicky’s secret boyfriend. 
  •  the next family weekend or whatever, Suzanne demands to meet this Chowder boy who’s stolen Bitty’s heart
  • Bitty is both confused and mortified

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AU where instead of going to Samwell, Jack starts a widely successful Publicly Broadcast show for children.

Jack learns that he is great with kids after coaching them for a little over two years. Moreover, kids are good with Jack. There is no pressure to be anything other than who he is.


It all starts with a local news program doing a fluff piece on Jack Zimmermann’s coaching ability. But then it turned into something completely different when Jack skated onto camera and started to introduce every single one of his kids and what was special about them. He was…really enchanting actually. He didn’t ever really talk down to them. Jack just treated them as a tiny friend. 

They ARE his tiny friends, but that’s not the point. 

The footage they got of “snack time” was really the best. Imagine a good 16 kids piled around this massive man teaching them the best way to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

 It should have been obvious that a local channel would contact him. It still surprises Jack. They want him to host a show? Why? Everyone always teased him about how impersonable he was during interviews. Is it because he’s Jack Zimmermann’s son? Or Alicia’s? 

Jack asks all of these questions to his mother and she just laughs. “You made a PB&J interesting to 16 kids just by being you”

Jack figures it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot. 

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Another Man’s Treasure

A/N: This will be a multi-part one shot because @alrightpetal and I have this thing about making Harry super vulnerable and flawed. So here you go.


…I’m gonna show you tonight! I’m alright! I’m just fine! And you’re a tool so, so what?

You belted your heart out up on stage, pumping your fist in the air to empower your words even further. It was a good thing you knew all the words, too, because your mates had bought you so many drinks your vision was crossed and blurred you couldn’t have read the lyrics to an unfamiliar song. Then you would have just been a blubbering fool butchering a karaoke performance. And that would have been embarrassing.

Singing yourself blue in the face—and drinking yourself into oblivion—served as the perfect outlet for your aching heart. Hours earlier, you’d been dumped. Or more accurately, replaced.

It’d been a week since you’d heard from your long-term boyfriend, and while you knew he was on holiday with his mates—a holiday you hadn’t been invited on—it was still odd that you hadn’t heard from him at all. Not even a text to let you know that he’d made it to Amsterdam. You didn’t expect too much communication; you trusted him to treat you right, but, silly you, you thought your boyfriend might actually miss you and want to say hi.

Last night after seven and a half days of nothing, you completely lost it and called him forty-seven times in a row. And not a single one was answered. So you rang your closest friends and they came over, laptops and tablets in hand, and intense cyber-stalking commenced.

It only took thirty-four minutes for your good mate Lindsey to unearth a damning post on Insta that your boyfriend was tagged in by a girl you kind of knew. The picture itself wasn’t awful; honestly you couldn’t make out much besides silhouettes and drinks. Even the caption wasn’t much; all it said was, “this guy” with a random slew of emojis. But the funny thing was, when you tried to search for it yourself, nothing came up. Meaning you were blocked. You weren’t meant to see this picture.

Twenty-two minutes of super-sleuthing was enough time for your oldest friend Ashley to find every social media account the girl had, and then eventually uncover her phone number.

In thirteen minutes you had a text drafted to her that was so long it was broken into five different parts when you hit send.

And one minute and fifty-four seconds is all the time your boyfriend—well ex-boyfriend—allowed you to speak to him today before he told you he was coming back tomorrow and there’d be no need for you to come see him. Tomorrow or ever again.

So your mates did what they knew best. They took you out, got you absolutely smashed, and then got you up on stage to pour your heart out. Somewhere in between I Will Survive and Total Eclipse of the Heart, you got a bit weepy and ended up calling your brother from the toilet. It took you awhile to realize you weren’t actually sobbing to him but his voicemail, and as soon as you did you pulled yourself back together and headed out for another drink and a rousing rendition of Since U Been Gone.

The few other patrons in the pub were hardly paying attention to your drunken warbling on stage, only breaking from their conversations when your mates would cheer at the end of each song, some of them even offering half-hearted claps. If they were annoyed, they certainly didn’t let on. Most likely, they pitied you; for Christ sake, you pitied you.

When your song ended, you finished the rest of your drink and began flipping through the songbook. Liberation was surging through you and you wanted a song to match your mood; something to serve as a proper fuck you to the twat you’d wasted the last few years of your young life on.

The book closed on your fingers, and you stumbled back in surprise. Were books automated now too?! You still weren’t over the automated tills at Tesco, would you now have to get used to robotic books closing on you when they’d had enough?!

“[Y/N].”

You looked up, your blurred vision slowly coming into focus as you swayed on the spot. A robotic book didn’t close itself on you, a person had closed it. Which was rather rude of them.

[Y/N],” he repeated. Finally he came into view and you cocked your head in confusion.

“Hazza?” you slurred, taking a step closer to get a better look. You nearly toppled off the stage, but Harry was quick to grab you by the waist and steady you before easing you down.

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general li mulan

okay so i LOVE mulan okay. as far as i’m concerned it’s a Perfect Movie and doesn’t need any fixing. but i was thinking today and -

- what if mulan didn’t go to war to save her father?

say her father is dead, okay, killed by the previous war. so she’s raised by her mother and grandmother, women who’s complacency and softness has been worn away by necessity. she needs to marry well, for her family’s sake, because her mother has refused the hand of every man who offered. but mulan is even more rough around the edges than before, is educated not only in books (her mother said men wouldn’t find smarts attractive and grandmother pointed out that men aren’t always around and off to school mulan went) but in the sword too, taught to her by her classmate, ping.

mulan is considered in the lower end of the upper class, coming from a family of military men and scholars and successful merchants. ping is near the top, the son or nephew of an advisor to the emperor. his family is very rich and very important, and the reason they become friends is because mulan manages to notice something about him that he’s been hiding from everyone else - he’s going blind.

not totally blind, enough to get around, but blind enough that reading is difficult and swordplay is even worse, although once he has it down he has it. ping is no fool, he’s not weak or bumbling. his eyes just don’t work. so mulan notices and confronts him about it. she promises to keep it a secret, and hey, she’ll even help him with his assignments by reading the books out loud and helping him study. but in return he must teach her the sword, must teach her about military and tactics. he agrees.

ping and mulan become very good friends and there’s some raised eyebrows about it but they are TOO far away in class for it to be inappropriate, so they make tutting sounds and disapproving faces and let it go.

then the draft happens. ping can’t go to war, he won’t survive it. not with his eyesight like it is. so mulan offers him a deal - she’ll go to war for him, in his place. in return, if she survives, he must marry her. if she dies he must take care of her family.

ping can’t make this kind of family decision on his own, so he goes to his mother and tells her everything, about the eyesight and how he’ll die if he goes and mulan’s offer. his mother says he must keep it a secret from his father, but agrees - if mulan fights in her son’s place and survives, a wedding will be arranged. either way, mulan’s family will be taken care of. ping will be sent to live with some cousins in the meanwhile.

“you’re not in love with me, are you?” ping asks, helping mulan saddle her horse in the middle of the night. she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “not even a little. but marrying you will make my family happy, and besides, you’re my best friend,” she says, smiling, “better you than some grabby old man.” he smiles and hugs her and says, “i’m not in love with you either. but don’t die out there. we have a wedding to plan.”

so mulan goes to the camp, pretending to be ping, and she’s a little bit less lost but things still go as they go. she’s educated and trained, so it’s not hard for her to pass as ping. shang is keeping a special eye on her, thinking that she’s the son of an advisor, one of his father’s friends. and he sees how easily she excels, how quick thinking and smart she is, and starts giving her more and more responsibilities. by the time they’re called out, shang considers ping ie mulan to be his right hand man, and possibly his best friend.

he’s also a little bit in love with ping, and he’s long known he’s attracted to both genders, so he watches ping laugh and smile and the crease between his eyes when he frowns and does his best to let his feelings chase away the best soldier he has. every time shang looks at ping his heart clenches and he things to himself: i wish i could have you, i wish this was a time and a place where one man could have another, i wish you were a girl, is wish i was a girl - i wish we could be together. he’s literally a step away from doodling ‘li ping’ with little hearts over his battle plans. 

so the battles happen. shang and ping lead their men together, respected and loved. they each get promoted, and promoted, and promoted. it’s been years, and it comes to a point where they’re both generals in their own right. they trust each other, care for each other. and are both secretly in love with the other.

mulan is so conflicted. because she wants this war to end and to go home and settle back into life and become ping’s wife, so she can have an easy life spent studying and learning with her family taken care of. that’s what she’d wanted. but now what she wants is shang, her best friend, her brother in arms, her fellow general. she wishes to be everything to him, aches to be the woman on his arm and in his bed, but knows it’s the one thing she can never be.

then that final battle happens. mulan’s quick thinking saves them all and ends the war - but she’s injured.

shang finds out the ping has been a girl all along. he demands explanations - so she tells him everything, that she traded places with ping to save him, to become his wife.

and the lies should sting the sharpest, but they don’t. she’s still the same person, after all. it’s that she’s promised to another man, for one second he’d thought he might have her, but no. so he agrees not to reveal her but he’s furious and furious at himself for being furious and they’re not the same now, broken and splintered and neither of them know what to do.

the war is over. they leave. mulan returns home, and thanks to her ping is now known as a respected general. she’s done her part and survived, and now she gets her reward - ping’s hand in marriage.

but she sees ping for the first time and flings herself into his arms and starts crying. she tells him everything, because he’s still her friend, her very best friend besides shang, the man whom she lied to and betrayed and loves. and ping listens and takes her by the shoulders and says - i’ll uphold our bargain, if that’s what you want. you can be my pampered wife, you’ve more than earned it. but if you want to go to shang, i won’t blame you. you deserve your happiness.

and mulan goes back and forth, but ultimately she decides she has to try. if shang rejects her she’ll return and marry ping and uphold her family honor. but if shang wants her - he’s not as high up as ping, but he’s high up enough to satisfy her family, and also she would love him and want him if he was no more than a farming peasant so it doesn’t matter much anyway.

she rides to the capitol. she finally meets ping’s father, running into him while looking for shang. “ah mulan,” says this man who was never supposed to know of her until she became his daughter-in-law, “i didn’t expect to see you here. how fortuitous. walk with me.” she does, wary, and that’s how she discovers - he and the emperor had discovered her deception a year in, but at that point she’d already proven herself too skilled and valuable to lose. he tells her that he will uphold his son and wife’s deal and gladly welcome her to his household - but that she’s earned her rank as general, and that he and the emperor have no problem with letting her keep it.

she says thank you, shocked and joyful, but that she has to talk to someone first. “ah, yes, young general li,” he says, eyes twinkling, “i do believe he’s around here somewhere.”

she has no idea how he seems to know everything, but she finally tracks down shang who’s ecstatic to see her and hates himself for it. she confesses - says she loves him, that she’s engaged to ping but willing and able to break this engagement for shang. who is dumbfounded and elated and says yes, of course, finally and forever.

and mulan accepts her rank and marries shang, and they become the literal power battle couple of the general li mulan and general li shang. ping becomes a scholar and marries a very nice young woman who loves reading and is happy to read aloud to her husband with his failing eyes.

and they all live happily ever after.

Figure Skating Charms and a Wealth of Nuance

Haha…so…*guiltily posts this months later* I had this in my drafts 70% completed since episode 10 came out, but with episode 11 and 12 the fandom exploded on other issues, and I thought it was kind of irrelevant since the rings have so many layers of meaning already. But in PASH magazine’s March issue, Kubo-sensei actually brings this up. 

I ended up cleaning this post and after finding out that @sachiro​ was going to make a similar post, we decided to have “pair posts” to submit for victuuriweek. You can read their yoi meta here , which discusses and connects specific moments throughout the series to the points I’ll lay out in the second half of this post.

About Yuuri’s charm. Yuuri has a figure skating precedent for buying jewelry to act as a charm - it isn’t a blasé “lots of good stuff around here…yeah, rings can make good charms, right? idk, but I’m doing it anyway.” Here’s yet another layer.

Charms are a legitimate THING in figure skating.

You won’t read about this in figure skating intros or on Wikipedia, and you won’t hear commentators talk about it either (if it’s brought up, consider it a stroke of luck and immediately save that video/interview forever). Unless you follow skaters to the point of knowing about their personal lives, then this is one meaningful aspect of figure skating that is easy to miss.

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plisetsky answered:

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2.3K

In which Yuri finds out that Otabek has a tumblr. 

AO3 link


We recently found out that Otabek is “well versed in all kinds of social media” and I am SHOOK. Somewhat inspired by the ask that altisetsky replied to, here’s the fic that no one asked for, but you’re all getting anyway.

cc: @otayuriwriterscollective


He doesn’t mean to pry.

Really, he doesn’t. But Otabek’s left his laptop open on the kitchen counter and it’s unlocked. Otabek is in the shower, so Yuri won’t be disturbed. It’s not like he’s going to go through his personal files or anything, but that’s unmistakably a tumblr dashboard, and Yuri is intrigued. The thought of Otabek having a tumblr is almost of ludicrous as Otabek DJing in his spare time, and – well. Now everyone and their mother has Otabek’s tracks downloaded on their Spotify or iTunes.

So he crosses the room and investigates.

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“Baby Stark”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: After returning to New York, Tony is greeted with surprising news that has potential to change his life.

A/N: another one from draft-purgatory. lol i’ve never written for tony stark, and i i struggle to capture his swaggering tone. however, but i thought it would be fun to write for a slightly softer tony stark.

His elbows resting on the metal railing surrounding the large helicopter landing pad, Tony Stark skims his eyes over the beautiful aerial view of Manhattan. A relaxed smile perks onto his lips as the familiar clamor of the concrete jungle sinks in. “It’s good to be back,” he hums to himself, taking in the majestic view carved around the Avengers Tower.

After rapping his knuckles against the metal railing, Tony saunters down the glass walkway leading into the tower, the eery silence reminding him that everyone is on a mission. He’s about to greet F.R.I.D.A.Y. when a smile enters his view, one that he isn’t expecting.

She sits on the counter of the bar, her legs elegantly crossed despite the restrictive nature of her pencil skirt. The sunlight streams into the room through the glass windows, creating a natural glow about her. A coy smile perks onto her lips as Tony’s drinks her in, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth as his eyes dance up her legs and body. She’s the most alluring girl he’d ever seen -he’d thought so two years ago when they first met, and he still thinks so now- and it’s one of the many reasons why he’s infatuated with her.

“I thought I told you not to wait for me,” He grins, glad that she ignored his request.

“I couldn’t wait until dinner, and I wanted to be here when you arrived. Is that such a crime?” (Y/N) hops off the counter and saunters towards him. She cups his cheek in a way that makes Tony feel like he’s the only person in the world.

“Well, counselor, I recommend -” His words are cut off as (Y/N) yanks the lapels of his jacket to bring his face towards her for a kiss. Tony laughs against her lips, but the laugh quickly gets drowned out by a rough growl as she lightly bites his lower lip. A smile creeps in around the edges of her kiss as she slides her hands down his muscular back. A nip of teeth, a glide of tongue, and she easily has him under her spell.

It’s only a matter of time when the need for oxygen brings the kiss to an end. Tony gently knocks his forehead against (Y/N)’s. “Remind me to always bring up a counterargument, because baby, I could get used to that,” he drawls.

(Y/N) laughs, a devilish glint lighting up her eyes. “Welcome back to New York, Mr. Stark. It’s been a while.” Her hand dangerously inch south as she brings his ear to her lips. “That was a little preview of what’s going to happen tonight.”

He feigns exasperation as (Y/N) playfully smacks his ass but twirls out of his arms before he can do anything. A low noise escapes his throat as she shoots him a sexy smile over her shoulder while kicking off her “ball-busting stilettos”, as she calls them.

Tony leans against the wall and watches (Y/N)’s shadow dance in the glow of the sun. Two years into the relationship, and he still gets butterflies. His fun, beautiful girlfriend, the skyline of the most magical city in America, wonderful weather - his life is perfect and Tony wishes it would stay this way for a long time.

“As much as I love pencil skirts, I need to change,” (Y/N) announces. “I have workout pants in my bag, but could I borrow a shirt or sweater?”

“Baby, at this point, you’ve stolen over half of my comfortable clothes. Why do you even bother asking?”

(Y/N) smirks and plants a kiss on his cheek before sashaying towards the door of Tony’s private apartment. Before she opens the door, she turns to him. “T, I have something to tell you.“

"Mmhmm,” Tony hums, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I probably should have told you, but I was kind of scared of how you would react. I thought it would be wise to tell you when you were back in New York.” She hesitates for a bit, her fingertips drumming against the doorframe. “Promise not to freak?” she asks, a slightly icy look glazing her eyes.

A small alarm rings in his head, but Tony maintains a calm expression. “I promise. Did you max out my credit card?” he jokes.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes but relaxes a bit, which pleases Tony. “No, and I never will.”

“My wallet thanks you, baby. But what’s up?”

“Tony.” She swallows. “How do you feel about becoming a dad?”

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Worth It

Summary: reader twisted her ankle and Bucky helps her take care of the injury. One thing leads to another and… well just check the warnings.

A/N: Okay…. So something weird happened last night. I was just doing what I normally do which is look through my drafts and see if I can come up with something for my imagines and stuff which didn’t happen, sadly. Then I just opened a new draft for some reason and just began writing while my mind drifted off to some… things. Basically what I’m trying to tell you here is that I wrote smut.
Yes, I wrote smut and posting it will be my first time posting smut on this blog. I’m feeling kind of anxious about posting this because I don’t know if it’s any good. Either it’s so bad it’s hilarious, cringy or it’s actually something people can enjoy in a non humorous way. I mean I got a little erotically charged (college talk for horny (i love you if you get that reference)) while writing it but I don’t know if other people will. If you want to read it, go ahead and if you feel uncomfortable, don’t.
Feedback is appreciated, especially now since this is my first smut that I’ve posted. You don’t have to go into detail just tell me if it was well written or not, that’s if you want to, of course. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do.
FOR THE PEOPLE I TAGGED!! I have no idea if you guys wanted to be tagged in smut posts too but hey, you don’t have to read it! I don’t expect every person to read every single imagine I post. Just skip this one if you feel like it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 5,622

Warning(s): SMUT, oral sex (both male and female receiving), cursing, unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it! Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener. Don’t be a fool, cover your tool. Wrap your bate before you mate and all that stuff)


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All The Time In The World

[One shot - request]

Summary: Olivia is the one in charge of Negan once he’s in jail, but what happens when you’re given the chance to come face to face with the man?

Note: This one shot was requested by the lovely @oceaninwinter

-

“I really don’t wanna go down there.” Olivia said, shaking her head as she held onto the bucket of hot water.

“Then why do you do it?” You said confused as you looked back at her. You could see just how much she hated her job of having to take care of Negan.

“It’s just the job Rick gave to me, and I thought I could handle it.” She said, walking hesitantly to the basement door of the abandoned building you were currently in.

“Don’t. I’ll go.” You said with a shrug, “It can’t be that hard.”

You hadn’t been with the group long, you weren’t around for this whole “war” that they often talked about, which led to the way they were living their lives now. You always heard about the man they called Negan, but had never met him, but from the things that you had heard - all the stories - he was someone that everyone once feared, and for good reason. If half of what you heard was true, then he was terrifying. It made you nervous to even offer to trade jobs with her, but you saw how much she truly despised it, and figured that it would be easier on you than her. Your job was to stay upstairs and keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and having full permission from Rick to take Negan out if he tried to escape.

“No, (Y/N). I really shouldn’t, I don’t know how Rick would feel about it.” She answered. She was saying no, but you could see in her eyes that she wanted to say yes to it. It wouldn’t take much more pushing of the question to get her to agree.

You crossed you arms, “Rick doesn’t have to know, okay? We won’t tell him.”

“Negan would tell him.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Why would he do that?” You were genuinely confused now.

“That statement alone let’s me know that you don’t need to do this, (Y/N). He can’t be trusted, you don’t know him like the rest of us.” She warned.

You were beginning to grow just a little annoyed. You were offering her a chance to get out of it, and she seemed to come up with every excuse to say no.

You sighed and took a step closer to her, “I’ll ask him not to tell Rick, okay? And even if he tells him, so what? We’ll tell Rick you don’t wanna do this anymore. You can sit up here and keep a lookout while I deal with him.”

She pressed her lips together with a worried expression on her face, thinking it over until finally have you a reluctant nod, “Okay, okay.. I’ll let you do it.”

“Alright.” You said, your face was a blank expression, but inside you were nervous and intrigued all at once, you were finally gonna meet the man everyone has been afraid of.

She handed over the bucket of water to you, “You take this, and let him clean up.” She trailed off as she reached into her pocket to pull out a small leather pouch, “You’ll need this too if he wants to shave.. I’m assuming you know how to use one of these?” She said as she pulled a flap back on the pouch to reveal a straight razor.

You nodded, “It can’t be that hard, I just know I’d have to be extra careful.. I’m shaving him?” You said with a confused expression.

“Yes, you do. We never let him do it himself. You should also make sure that he keeps his distance.” She said, giving you a concerned look.

“You’re talking like he’s psychotic, or something, Olivia.” Your forehead creased.

“I don’t say it lightly, (Y/N). Keep your guard up at all times.. Here, you’ll need this, too, obviously.” She said as she reaching into her pocket, pulling out a small shiny object - it was the key to Negan’s cell.

You nodded again and stuffed the leather pouch into your pocket, taking the key from her, “I will.” You turned the knob of the basement door slowly, the creaking of it disturbing the silence, the draft of cold, damp air hitting you. You gave Olivia one more glance before you turned to walk down the rickety wooden steps as she shut the door behind you tightly. You had to admit you were a bundle of nerves going down there, you were shaking and it wasn’t from the cool air of the drafty basement. When you got to the bottom step, you took a moment to collect yourself, taking in a deep breathe. You could see the makeshift cell that has been welded against the wall. You glanced nervously into the darkened cell, just barely being able to make out a silhouette of the man named Negan.
You jumped suddenly when a voice sounded from the other side of the bars.

“Y'know I started to fuckin’ ask when Olivia had such a dramatic goddamn weight loss.” A deep voice said in a cheeky tone.

You approached the bars cautiously, setting down the bucket, “I’m not Olivia.”

“Yeah, I kinda fuckin’ figured that out on my own.” He said matter-of-factly. You could hear scraping on the concrete floor as his silhouette became bigger, he must have been sitting on the floor. You were finally granted your first glimpse of the man as he approached the bars, feeding his arms through them. You weren’t disappointed with the sight, he was tall, and more handsome than you had expected him to be. He was sporting a full beard, but his hair was short and slicked back against his skull, compared to his beard it must have been cut recently. You looked down at your feet for a moment, not being able to keep contact with his dark, intimidating eyes for very long.

“Where the fuck is my dear, Olivia? Not that I’m complaining, this is a nice fuckin’ change of scenery.” He said slowly, you looked back to see his tongue darting from between his lips. You could feel his eyes on your body, and suddenly you lost your voice.

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ ignore me now, are you?” He spoke sternly, regaining your attention.

You shook your head quickly, “No sir- I mean, Negan. She’s- she’s upstairs. I traded with her.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Sir? That’s fuckin’ sweet of you. What’s your name, darlin’?”

Your mouth relaxed into a thin line, “(Y/N)”

He gave you a dangerous, yet charming smirk, “That is a beautiful name.”

You bit your lip, trying not to let a smile break through, “Thank you.” You fiddled with your fingers absentmindedly as the silence filled the air again.

Negan leaned against the bars, “You seem pretty fuckin’ nervous.”

“Well, you are pretty infamous around here.” You admitted.

Negan chuckled, letting his teeth scrape over his bottom lip, “Yeah? According to fuckin’ who - Rick?”

You nodded slowly, “Him and the others. I’ve heard things.”

“You don’t look too fuckin’ familiar to me. I’m guessing you’re new?” He smirked cockily.

You were still nervous, but there was something about him that made you relax just a bit, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing that had a chance of getting you into some deep shit.

“I am. I wasn’t around for the war that everyone talks about. I’ve been here for about 3 months, give or take a few weeks.”

His lips parted as he gave you a coy grin, “I’ve been stuck behind these fuckin’ bars for almost a year now. After hearing the stories, you didn’t even fuckin’ bother to pay a visit to the resident jail bird, darlin’?”

You gave him a weak smile and shrugged, “Well I imagine you wouldn’t want people to come down here to gawk at you like a caged animal, and frankly, I was scared.”

“But I am a fuckin’ animal, sweetheart.” He said confidently, his white teeth peekimg through his lips.

He has a dark look in his eyes, that was almost.. Seductive.. The way his eyes trailed over you as he said it made you realize that he was hinting that he was an animal not just for his crimes, but for a more primal reason. A sudden, familiar heat rose up inside of you, a heat you hadn’t felt In a long time, and one that you so often ached to feel again. It was startling, you bit down on your lip hard, almost certain you had broken the skin. Negan making you feel this way - especially so soon - was wrong, it made you uncomfortable and excited all at once. You did your best to keep your composure as you felt the dampness between your legs increasing. You had to avert your eyes away from him again, his stare was so intense. You were sure he’d see right through you, and if he did, he spared you the embarrassment of letting it be known.

“Sweetheart, are you gonna give me my bucket of water any fuckin’ time soon? I’d like to use it before it gets cold.” He said, parting his hands as he leaned his head against a cell bar.

You closed your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath and dipped your hand into your pocket to pull the key out, “Yes, I’m sorry.” You approached his cell door, glancing at him timidly as you reached out to shove the key into the lock, turning it until there was a click. You pulled the door slowly, your hands gripping so tightly around one of the bars that your knuckles were turning white for fear he was going to dart from behind the bars. You held your breathe as he pulled his arms back through the bars and sauntered over to the door. He towered over you, forcing you to look up to meet his gaze and up close it was even more intimidating and.. Sexy. If he took it upon himself to try to escape there’s no way in hell you could have stopped him. He gave you a sly smirk as he bent down to grab the bucket and take it back into his cell, and it took everything in you to keep you from melting then and there. There was something about that man that was absolutely intoxicating. You weren’t the kind of woman to swoon for a man who gave you just the least bit of attention, but even you couldn’t deny the charm that radiated off of him.

You backed away from the cell, leaving the door ajar. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next, you felt your cheeks flush red again as you glanced over to see the white t-shirt he was wearing being pulled from his body. He was toned and had a few stray tattoos here and there, most notably being the cross on his left arm. If the top half looked this good, what else did he have hidden away under his clothes? You brushed the thought away, scolding yourself internally for thinking such a thing.

You could feel your palms getting clammy, “I should give you some privacy.”

He snorted and dipped a rag into the bucket, “Don’t fuckin’ get shy on my account, darlin’. Sweet thing usually fuckin’ sits over there and reads until I’m done.” He said gesturing to a chair in the corner of the room.

“Oh.. Right.” You said bashfully as you turned quickly, heading for the chair before he could take anymore clothes off. You sat down, keeping your eyes at your feet, trying to hold back your temptation to sneak a peek at this man. You tapped your foot lightly on the ground, you could hear the unzipping of his pants now and your eyes scanned along the floor momentarily, but they snapped back to your feet once his voice sounded again.

“How do you fuckin’ like it around here?” He said, sloshing water around in the bucket.

You gave a shrug, assuming that he was looking at you, “It’s nice. It’s sort of boring, but with the way stuff is now, I guess I should be thankful for a boring life.”

You heard him chuckle, “You don’t strike me as a boring girl, darlin’. You look like your prone to getting into some shit.”

You smirked, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that. A few moments passed, the silence fell over the room again, the only sound to be heard was the sound of water. Your temptation was beginning to override you and your curiosity had taken over you, your eyes trailed along the floor again. Fuck it. You eyes quickly darted forward, making contact with his bare body, and the sight was not disappointing either. Your eyes widened at the sight, your legs clenched involuntarily as felt the dampness between to legs beck not noticeable than before. This man was supposed to be so terrible and evil, but here you were lusting after him after you just met.

“It you want a better fuckin’ look at my dick, just say so, sweetheart.” His deep time called, breaking your concentration on his body.

You had a look of guilt on your face as you met his eyes in embarasment. He stood there, smirking as he dropped the rag back into the bucket.

You closed your eye tightly, shaking your head, “I- I’m sorry.” You opened one eye back up slowly.

He bit his lip, “It doesn’t fuckin’ bother me, darlin’. Don’t get much fuckin’ action from women these days, and try as I fuckin’ might, your other half up there won’t give me the time of fuckin’ day.. Is she a goddamn carpet muncher or something?” He said as he pulled his pants back on.

You chewed your lip “No, I don’t think so..”

He sniffed and gave you a shrug as he walked out of his cell, setting the bucket outside, his shirtless chest still glistening from the water running down it, “Could’ve fooled me. Shit, I’ve been trying to get her for months - and nothing - not even a sad eyecontactless handjob.”

Your lips parted slightly as your hand clamped over your face, trying to stifle back laughter.

He sucked his teeth as he walked forward, “Is it that amusing, babydoll?”

You shook your head, “I’m sorry. After all the things I’ve heard.. I never expected you to be funny.”

He shrugged and gave you a smile, “It wasn’t a joke, but what-the-fuck-ever. Do you have the razor, darlin’. I’d like to get this goddamn bush off my face.” He said run in his hand through his beard.

You gave a nod as you stood up, “I do.” You pulled the chair to the middle of the room to let him sit in it. He watched you intently as you pulled the leather pouch from your pants pocket to take the razor out.

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t really know what I’m doing with this.” You confessed, your eyebrows knitting together.

He intertwined his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair “Just try not to slit my fuckin’ throat, darlin’. You’re gonna need to sharpen it first of all.”

“How?”

He closed his eyes with a smirk, “See this belt looking shit right here?” He said reaching around the back of the chair to pull on what looked like a strip of leather, “You sharpen it with this.”

“Okay, then I definitely don’t know what I’m doing.” You huffed, running a hand over your face.

“Here, give it to me.” He said reaching out for it.

You backed up quickly, pulling the arm that held it behind you. Giving him a hostile look. Did he think you were that stupid?

He gave you a call smile and blinked, “I’m serious. Look, if I wanted to fuckin’ escape, I wouldn’t need a dull fuckin’ straight razor to do it, babydoll.” He said leaning forward, his tone was serious, not the joking-nonchalant one he had been using the majority of the time.

You knew it was probably a terrible idea, and your mind was screaming at you not to do it, but you couldn’t help but believe him, and his natural charm wasn’t any help in keeping you cautious of him for very long. You let out a breathe and took a slow step towards him, reaching out to give it to him. You felt the chills run down your body when his hand made contact with yours, his fingers lingering over your skin longer than they should have before he pulled back, taking the one object he shouldn’t have been allowed do have in his hand. You had to let your mind adjust to the situation, you could only imagine Olivia’s face if she she saw this shit. You took a step back as you carefully watched the razor in his grasp as he stepped to the back of the chair, pulling the leather strap tightly to run the blade of the razor back and forth across it. This was a dangerous situation, and you knew it, but it seemed to excite you further at the same time. You could see the muscles in his bare arm flexing each time he moved. Your teeth found your bottom lip again, giving it a generous tug as you watched him. It was so easy to go into a trance-like state while you watched him, any movement he made being done with fluidity and ease, only making you all the more intrigued by him. You listened to the scraping of the blade against the leather, it was somewhat soothing as it eased the tense air of the room. You were snapped out of your transfixed state when when the scraping stopped. You swallowed, there was a lump im your throat when he turned back towards you, the sharpened razor still in his hand. You exhaled shakily.. Was this it? Was he gonna slit your throat and escape? So many thoughts were running through you as he stepped towards you, your body tensing, preparing for whatever he was going to do next. But you relaxed just as fast as you had been bracing yourself for something terrible.

He folded the razor back into itself, extending his arm to hand it over to you, “Might wanna be extra fuckin’ careful, sugar. It’s sharp as shit, and I’m not in the mood to get my throat slit today.”

You took it from his hand, giving him an obedient nod, surprised that he even gave it back to you at all, “I handn’t planned on it.” You smirked.

He finally sat back down, giving you some peace of mind when he did so. You walked around the the back of the chair to a small table that sat beside the wall. It was obviously Olivia’s setup for when she had the job of shaving him. You grabbed a can of shaving cream that sat on it and a clean rag before walking back over to him. His hands were back behind his head again, and his legs were kicked out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You had to admit, you sort of admired that about him. He truly didn’t give a shit.

You held the can out to him, “I’m sure this part you can manage yourself, right?” You said teasingly.

He gave you a challenging expression and reached out to take the can from you, “You’ve sorta got a fuckin’ attitude on you, don’t you?”

“No more than you seem to have.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, giving a small smile as he began to cover his beard with shaving cream, “Females with an attitude intimidate you, or something?”

He ran his hand over his beard, his eyes shifting to you, giving you an almost dangerous look, and you decided at that moment maybe you should choose your words more carefully, he was still some who was unpredictable in his actions. His eyes narrowed as they continued to burn into yours as he handed the can back to you.

“No. I’ve always had a fuckin’ thing for the ones with an attitude.. They were always more fun to break.” He said, clearing his throat.

You turned quickly to bring the can back to the table, happy to get away from his gaze for another moment, mainly because you didn’t want him to see you blushing, yet again. It was beginning to get ridiculous. You took in a breath and walked back in from of him, opening up the razor slowly as you stood beside him, your nervousness growing again once you realized you were going to get extra up close and personal with him. You knew it wasn’t that you were were fearful of him harming you, it was for the fact that it would be would no secret to him now that you were weakened by his charming nature.

You stood there for a moment, overlooking his features before you finally reached out, placing your free hand on his head. He complied easily enough, tilting his head to the side as your brought down the razor, being careful not to cut him as you slid it down his cheek, listening to the scraping of it against his skin. He often shifted his eyes, looking at you out the corner of them. Once the first stroke was done, you were a little more confident in what you were doing.

“Shit, that was easy enough, huh?” He said as you wiped the razor on the rag, before bringing it back up to his skin again.

“Yeah, you’re still alive. I’d say I’m not doing too bad.” You smirked.

“Tell me something about your fuckin’ self, darlin’. You got yourself a man.. Or a fuckin’ woman? Can’t imagine something as pretty as you is single.” He said shifted his eyes over to you once, again giving you another sly grin.

You shook your head slowly, trying to keep your concentration as the razor glided across his skin again, “No. I was with someone, but that was a very long time ago.”

Negan hummed softly, giving you that dangerous look again. It had become apparent now that, that look made you susceptible to becoming very hot and bothered. The thought of throwing your leg over him and taking a seat brushed across your mind, you wondered how he would react. You bit the inside of your cheek roughly for letting these intruding thoughts keep popping into your mind. You finally finished with one side of his face, you looked down at his legs that were splayed out, blocking you.

You looked at him timidly, “Could you uh- your legs.”

“Sure fuckin’ thing, sweetheart.” He said clearing his throat as he sat up straight in the chair.

You moved in front of him, noting mentally that you were in the perfect position to straddle him for real now. You closed your eyes briefly. These thoughts didn’t seem like they were ever gonna stop, and you weren’t sure that you really wanted them to. You leaned forward, your hands sliding into his hair again, the sound of the razor over his skin filling the room. You followed his gaze and he made no effort to hide the fact that his eyes were locked onto your cleavage, his teeth brushing over his bottom lip. As if you weren’t hot enough over him already, the sight of lust in his eyes as he stared at your full breasts through the thin shirt you were wearing surely did it for you. You gave a small, mischievous smirk to yourself and leaned down a little further, making it seem like you wanted to be extra precise in shaving him, but in reality, you were teasing him, but of course he knew it. He raised his eyes up to you, meeting yours again. It was a dark, hungered look in his eyes and you could see his jaw flaring as he clenched his teeth tightly. You had to look away from him again, it was more intense than any stare he had given you yet, and you could feel your core clenching around nothing as your arousal began to meet it’s peak. At this point, you weren’t sure who was driving who crazy. The sexual tension in the room was no secret. It was a heavy, aching feeling.

As you got to the last bit of hair, you tried to shave it quickly. As you stood over him, your breast still in his face, you could feel the warmth of his fingertips as they brushed lightly over your legs. You swallowed hard as they rested lightly on the outside of your jeans. He was testing you to see how far you’d let him go, and at this point you were a practically a puddle beneath him, willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but trying - and failing - to keep that a secret. Once you finally finished, you backed up slowly from him, folding the razor back down and walked over to the table to set it down, grabbing another clean rag to hand to him.
He took it and wipe off the remnants of the shaving cream.

“You’re all done.” You said, exhaling, “Is that all you needed?”

He finished wiping his face and tossed the rag back onto the table before looking at you again, “That’s not all I fuckin’ need, darlin’.”

You were both locked in a staring competition now. Neither of you looked away, and you getting up the courage to not shy away from him this time as the sexual tension in the room seemed to boil over. You inhaled deeply, unwavering as you took one step towards him.

“What is it?” You said. You stood firm, but your voice was shaking.

He reached out again, letting a hand wrap around your thigh this time, running to your back, and down to grab your ass. A silent sign escaping your lips. Every nerve in your body seemed like it was on fire, and once Negan sensed that you were just as starved for some contact as he was. He wasted no time in yanking you down to him. You gasped quickly as the sudden jerk of your body as he brought you down to his lips, kissing you hungrily as his tongue darted between your lips. You held onto the back of the chair, finally getting to fulfill your though of straddling him as you threw one leg over him, settling down into his lap. You could feel how hard he was as his cock pressed against your already soaked slit through your jeans. You let out another sigh as his tongue continued to explore your mouth, both his hands now gripping your ass firmly. Your first instinct was to grind into him, and before you knew it, your hips were rolling against his doing your best to make contact with his member trying to relieve some of the ache you felt deep in your core. He seemed to take note of how desperate you were to feel something. He brushed his hands back over your thighs, unbuttoning your pants quickly. You gritted your teeth when a hand found it’s way inside, teasing your wetness with his fingers, your hips involuntarily bucking into his hand, causing a finger to slide inside of you, making you moan. He brought a free hand up to wrap around your neck. You could see the pure lust on his face as he watched you ride his fingers.

“Shit, I missed that goddamn feeling.” He growled seductively, he buried his face into your chest, biting and pulling at your shirt with his teeth, moving up to your neck to suck at the delicate skin. You knew him leaving marks would be a bad idea, but at the moment you didn’t care and you wanted him to mark you everywhere. Your hands fiddled with the button on his pants, finally getting them open as you reached into his jeans to stroke his hard cock. He grunted eagerly as he let the hand on your neck slide down to your breasts, squeezing them through the fabric of your shirt.

“Get this shit off, baby.” He ordered, tugging at your shirt roughly.

You complied immediately, lifting it over your head to throw it to the floor. He brought his hands around you, unhooking your bra with little effort, letting it fall from your body as he stuck his head into your breasts, grasping at them with his free hand, biting and sucking at your nipples as you continued to ride his fingers. By this point, his fingers were coated in your juices, he thumbed at your clit roughly.
You let your hand work up and down the shaft of his cock, moaning softly each time his fingers sunk deeper inside of you with each strike you made, but you wanted him inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you mercilessly while you writhed beneath him. Your free hand tangled in his hair as his face was still buried firmly in your breasts, your hips rocking vigorously on his fingers. He finally lifted his head back up, kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip.

“You ever fucked in a jail cell before?” He purred seductively in your ear.

He said it as if it was a question, but you both knew it wasn’t. He was telling you what he was going to do to you, and you were more than willing to let him have his way.

“There’s a first time for everything.” You breathed back as he pulled his fingers from you, leaving you aching even more than you were and whimpering for his touch again as he left you with an empty feeling.

You released his cock, wrapping you arms around his neck as his strong arms held you close to him as he stood up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to his cell. It was dimly lit inside of it, you didn’t even notice the cot that sat against the wall until he threw you onto it. You pulled yourself up as he stood in for of you, sliding his pants down to his hips, just enough to release his cock. You licked your lips as you watched him, finally getting a good view of just how big he was. Your hands trailed down to the front of your jeans, teasing your sensitive slit through them.

“Get on your knees.” He growled, walking forward to wrap your hair around his fist, you sighed as you propped yourself onto your knees, preparing yourself for what was next. With his fist in your hair he guided you towards him, your mouth opening for him as his cock slipped inside. You could taste the precome that had beaded on the head of his member, dragging your tongue over the tip, lapping it up immediately. He groaned, tilting his head down as his grip tightened on you, you let your lips wrap tightly around his shaft as your head bobbed up and down on him, taking in as much of his cock as you could until you could feel yourself on the verge of gagging, but you wanted to impress him, so you pushed the thought away as you shoved your own head down on his cock even further. response, he let out a moan, bucking his hips into your mouth, you could feel his cock in the back of your throat now, and you were surprised at the amount of control he had. For someone who hadn’t been with an actual woman in a while, you expected him to fuck your throat until it was raw - something you weren’t completely opposed to.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’.” He groaned, forcing his hips against your mouth, causing you to cough, but you didn’t stop sucking him, you let your tongue work up and down his length each time you bobbed your head up and down, doing your best to drive him crazy. You brought your hand up, swirling your tongue around his head, popping it in and out of your mouth lazily, letting your hand pump him, causing more precome to bead out of him. He let out a throaty grunt and pushed you off of him.

You smiled, biting your lip as he looked down at you, his eyes narrowed in a seductive expression as he leaned down, curling his fingers over the top of your jeans, ripping them off of you. You breathed heavily as he did so, not sure how much longer your could hold out. He pushed you back further on the bed as he grasped your legs, raising them to his shoulders as he nestled himself between your legs, kissing and biting hard at your thighs, making you yelp at the feeling, pain mixed with pleasure. You knew it was going to leave bruising tomorrow. He licked your slit through your panties, he was already getting to taste you as your had completely soaked through them, thanks to how turned on he had gotten you before sex was even thought of between the two of you. You laid your head back on the cot, reveling in the feeling of having someone’s tongue on you in such an intimate way again. You had almost forgotten how it felt, and when Negan did it, it felt even better than you had ever remembered it feeling. He brought his finger up to play with your clit through your panties, making you suck in sharp breathes, you were close to begging him. He pulled them to the side, dragging his finger up and down your folds, letting them slide in and out of you, creating a wet sound. Your back arched, his tongue pressed firmly again your clit as he lapped up your juices, his fingers thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my God.” You moaned as you felt his tongue slide into you. You pulled his hair roughly, strands of it wrapped around your fingers.

“Is that what you fuckin’ like, baby?” He said, biting your wet lips.

“Yes.” You whimpered, you had bent completely to his will and were a mess beneath him, and craving his cock inside of you.

You pulled up on his hair, silently letting him know to come back up to you, “I want you, Negan.”

He leaned forward, kissing and biting his way back up your body, you gripped the sheets, loving the way your skin felt between his teeth. Your legs wrapped around him tightly once his face met yours, yours lips crashing into each other as he grinded against you. You could feel his throbbing cock teasing your aching pussy as he slipped the head in briefly, pulling back out. You whined in protest, bringing your hands back up to dig your nails into his skin, he let out a growl, wrapping his hands around your neck.

“You want this fuckin’ cock, babydoll?” He purred into your ear, nipping at your neck as he drug his teeth across your skin.

“Yes.. Please!” You answered back, letting your legs tighten around him even more.

He gave you a devilish smile as he pushed himself into you, letting all of his length slide into you at once, you lifted your hips up to his, feeling so much pleasure as he filled you up completely. You laid your head back, breathing deeply as he started with a few slow pumps into you, your walls already clenching themselves around his cock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a pussy this goddamn tight, darlin’.” He growled, bucking his hips against you, forcing himself deeper in, causing to to cry out. Your nails sinking further into his skin. He was going to have a few marks of his own after you were finished. He squeezed your neck, creating a delightful sensation as he started to grind himself in and out of you vigorously, the sound of wet skin smacking against each other accompanied with your moans. You bit down on your lip quickly, remembering Olivia upstairs.

“She’s gonna hear us.” You squeaked as he continued ramming himself into you, grunting into your ear.

“You’re just gonna have to be fuckin’ quiet, baby.” He said seductively, putting his other hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He slammed his hips into you violently, making you cry out, your voice soften by the cover of his hand as his cock hit the back of your walls. He kept it up for a while, your legs seeming to wrap around him tighter with each thrust, his cock now completely slick with your wetness as he slide in and out with ease. You were glad that his hand was covering your mouth, your moans became louder and more frequent as he had his way with you. You finally released the grip you had on him, a thought coming to your mind.

“Take me from behind. Fuck me hard.” You begged him, turning your body slightly.

He widened his eyes, smiling and he bit your lip, “Turn the fuck over, sweetheart.”

You gave him a nod, turning yourself over on the cot as you bent yourself down as far as you could, sticking your backside into the air for him. You felt a hard slap on your ass, forcing you to jerk away from him, but also wanting him to keep it up. He placed his hands on your ass, pulling you back against him as he slid into you with ease again, he gave your ass another had slap, making you moan again. You clamped a hand over your mouth, realizing the moan was louder than it should have been. He brought his hand down as he thrust into you, holding your own hand against your mouth.

“Easy, babydoll. You don’t wanna get us fuckin’ caught do you?” He smirked, slamming his hips into you again. The pleasure overtaking you, causing you to collapse into the cot as you shook your head.

You finally lifted your head back up, wanting to take some control of your own as you pushed yourself back into him, causing him to slip out of you. You turned around to face him as he stood there, looking at you confused for a moment. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I wanna ride you.” You said bluntly, clenching your legs together as you were still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.

“Goddamn, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, darlin’?” He smirked as he sat down, leaning back into the wall, stroking himself as you crawled to him, throwing your legs at his side as you lowered yourself down onto his cock. You gritted your teeth, making sure to keep your voice down as much as you could. You rocked your hips against his, just like you had done on the chair. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, only making you more eager to ride him. His hands cupped around your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze as he brought his mouth down to let his tongue swirl around your nipples. You buried your face in his neck to dull your moans. He smelled amazing and you kissed his neck, sucking the skin as he tugged at your nipple with his teeth. You bucked your hips hard against him. He moved his hands down to your hips to guide your rhythm how he wanted, still managing to maintain control even with you on top. You were starting to come to your peak, you could feel the build up of the orgasm and you already knew that it was going to be intense. You continued to thrust your hips against his, his cock slid in and out of you. You slammed yourself down onto it, causing a loud grunt to escape Negan’s lips as he clenched his jaw, giving you a dangerous stare. He continued to slam you down into his hips, only bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you were spilling over it.

“Shit, I gonna come!” You cried as you felt your walls grip around him even tighter than they had before, you could feel how wet you were making his dick as you climaxed. You buried your head further into his neck as you couldn’t help but scream, luckily it was muffled against his skin.

“That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me.” He groaned as you continued to ride him throughout your orgasm, desperately wanting him to finish with you. His grunts were becoming louder as he went into an animalistic state, forcing you down as hard as he could onto his cock.

“Motherfucker.” He growled, his fingers gripping around your waist tightly. You breathed heavily as you kept up your pace, but knowing you were already spent.

“Negan.” You moaned back in his ear.

He bucked his hips against yours for a few more times and you knew he was close. He kissed you hard on the mouth, his tongue forcing it’s way in.

He gave one last groan before he pulled you up roughly off of him, “Fuck, darlin’.” He threw you down onto the cot, quickly lifted himself above you as he stroked his cock a few times before you felt the warmth of the spurts as he came on your chest and abdomen, stroking himself dry. You let out a breath as a leaned down to you, both arms outstretched to hold his weight above you as he kissed you roughly once more. You both took a minute to catch your breathe and gather your thoughts. That had really just happened, and you were more satisfied than you had been in a long time. Negan lifted himself up off the cot as he pulled his pants back up. You sat up slowly on the edge of the cot, looking around for something to clean yourself up with, and before you could get up, he was handing you a rag and your clothes.

You scoffed as you took them, “Trying to get rid of me that quick?”

He rolled his eyes, “Fuck no, darlin’. I’d let you fuckin’ stay, but our dear Olivia is probably getting fuckin’ suspicious.”

You sighed as you wiped off your body, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” After you were cleaned up, you put your clothes on quickly as you got up to gather your things. Negan leaned against the bars of the cell, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Please fuckin’ tell me I’m gonna set you again, darlin’.” He said, sticking his arms through the bars again.

You looks back at him and smiled as you stuffed the razor back into your pocket and picked up the bucket of now cold water, “I have a feeling that I’ll be trading jobs with Olivia. If she’s not gonna reap the benefits of it, then I will.” You bit your lip as you closed the door to the cell, turning the key to lock it and stuffed the key back down into your pocket quickly, “It’s just a damn shame I have to lock you back up.”

“They couldn’t fuckin’ handle it if I was on the loose, baby.” He said, giving you a wicked smirk.

You blushed, looking at the ground momentarily, before you gave him a flirty look, “You really are an animal, Negan.”

“I’m a man of my fuckin’ word.” He shrugged, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look.

You nodded, “Well, as a man of your word, how about don’t mention to Rick I was down here when you see him? He’d probably put me off the job.”

He inhaled and ran his tongue over his lips, “Usually I’d fuckin’ say no. I get real fuckin’ pleasure from making Rick’s life difficult, but for that amazing pussy you just gave me - that I definitely want again - my lips are sealed, darlin’.”

“Good.” You smiled. You started to walk forward, but his outstretched arm caught you quickly. You looked over at him, “What?”

“You forgetting something?” He smiled as he pulled you to him to kiss you hard one last time through the bars. He pulled back to look down at you, “By the way, I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” He said as he reached down into his pocket, pulling his arm back up to show you your balled up panties in his hand.

You giggled, your face turning red, “They’re all yours, Negan. Keep it as a souvenir.”

“I’m thinking you fuckin’ sneak down here tomorrow, babydoll.”

You looked up at him one more time, a mischievous look on your face, “I had planned on it.”

He gave you an approving nod as you both kissed once more. He reluctantly let you go, and watched you walk back up that rickety staircase until you were completely out of his sight.

Throw It All Away

Originally posted by alinok

[Part 2]

You all asked for it so here it is. My friend helped me out with this one and I’ve just had this sitting in my drafts for like two weeks so I guess it’s about time I posted it

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader
Warnings: angst
Fandom: Riverdale

You’ve had a crush on Jughead since you were like ten. To most it was no secret. In the words of Veronica apparently “hearts formed in your eyes whenever you saw him”. It seemed like everyone (even Reggie) knew about your feelings except for of course Jughead.

For the longest time the mere thought of telling your best friend about how you felt made you want to puke. Today however was different. Today was the day you were going to finally tell him.

For most of the morning you argued with yourself over this issue.

“Tell him now”.
“No not yet I’m not ready”.
“Do it or I swear to god”.
“This was a terrible idea”.
“Abort! Abort!”.

It took you until the end of the entire school day to confront him.

“H…hey Jug” you called to Jughead just as he was about to exit the school.

“Hey” he replied “what’s up?”.

You gulped. You felt your hands start to immediately shake and a sickening feeling formed in your stomach.
“N… not much… Jughead, I actually really have to tell you something. I’ve been keeping it from you for too long”.

Jughead raised an eyebrow, his expression becoming full of concern.
“Ah okay. What is it?”.

Taking a great long breath you began to force out your confession.
“Jughead we’ve been friends for a long time but for the most of that time I’ve wanted to be more than friends. You make me laugh, you’re there for me when nobody else is. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think I’m in love with you Jughead”.

For a moment Jughead didn’t react.
“[Y/N] I… I don’t think I’m ready for something like this. I just don’t… I’m sorry”.

You felt as if you had been hit by a bus. You had had nightmares about this before but you never expected it to hurt this bad. Tears formed in your eyes and you had to bite you lip so you wouldn’t let out a sob.

“Oh I…I get it. Excuse me I… I have to go”.

You didn’t even wait for him to say anything else. You rushed past him and quickly made your way out of the front doors of the school. Jughead called out to you but you ignored. Instead you broke into a run. You ran all the way home, with tears rushing down your cheeks, and your heart broken.

You avoided Jughead for days after that event had taken place. Partly because you were embarrassed and also because you were sure you’d burst into tears if you stayed around him for too long. In fact you spent the next week or so not talking to anyone. It was obvious you weren’t okay and you had become sick and tired of people asking you what was wrong. Unfortunately Jughead eventually cornered you on your way home from school.

“[Y/N]!”.

You heard him but you didn’t dare turn around. You started to pick up your pace but before you knew it you felt Jughead grab your shoulder causing you to stop in your tracks.

“[Y/N] talk to me please”.

Sighing you turned to face him.
“I’d rather not Jughead”.

“Come on. Let’s go to Pop’s and grab a burger or something. Just like we use to”.

“Don’t you get it?”.
Your eyes were already wet and you looked at the ground feeling as if you couldn’t face him while you said this.
“It can’t be like it use to be. I want it to be, trust me I do but every time I look at you now Jughead, even if it’s from across the classroom I’m just reminded about how much it hurt when you rejected me”. Jughead opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him.
“I’m not mad at you Jug. I don’t blame you either but I can’t go to Pop’s with you and act like everything’s fine because it’s not. I’m sorry”.

The colour in Jughead’s face seemed to fade at your words. He didn’t say anything, probably because he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry” you repeated but this time in a much tinier voice. Then you gave him a light kiss on the cheek and turned around and continued your journey home.

Jughead watched you, not attempting to stop you from leaving. At that moment he somewhat understood what you had felt. He also knew that he’d do anything, give up anything to go back in time and give you a different answer to your confession, just so he could have you back.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he just throw away the best thing that’s ever happened to him? Now he may have lost you forever.

star-anise  asked:

I challenge you to retell any piece of Jack or Bitty's college years as a series of in-universe RPF callout posts

**whispers** dammit this is clever and I’ve never done a real callout post so let’s see how this goes

*clears throat, we’re now in the land of my UBER SUCESSFUL in-universe rpf blog. My character will be one of an ex-Pimms shipper who’s been jaded by the discourse surrounding Jack’s OD.* 

Here’s a brief coverage of Fall Semester of Year Two: 

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Shape Of You

Sebastian sends you a selfie after his workout.

Pairing:  Sebastian Stan x Reader  

Warnings:   Sexual content, Explicit Sexual, Oral Sex, Smut, Dirty Talk, Language, NSFW, Unprotected Sex (wrap it please), Sebastian Stan, Calvin Klein briefs

Word Count: 2,336

A/N: Yes I know I’m supposed to be working on chapter 6 of The Contest but let me explain.  So I was finishing up my first draft of Chapter 6 when Sebastian Stan happened…fucker goes and posts that locker room selfie.  I tried to ignore it, really I did but this scene popped into my head and it would not let me live until I wrote it down. So sorry (but not sorry).  This is a another quickie that I wrote at work so please ignore the typos and the writing.  I just had to get it out of my head so I could get back to Bucky…

Not sure who to tag so I’ll just include my Sebby smut sisters @evansrogerskitten @ek823 and @pearljamkaren 

If you want to be tagged in future Seb smut, just ask…there is more coming ;)  

Shape Of You

By marvelmom

Sitting in the lobby of the gym, you drum your fingers impatiently on your knee.

“What the hell is taking him so long,” you mutter to yourself as you pull out your phone and start tapping out a message.

I’m ready to go, everything ok?

You stare at the screen, waiting for a response.  Your phone chimes a few moments later.

No

Brow furrowed, you quickly type a response and hit send.

What’s wrong?!?

You bite your lip nervously as a flood of scenarios race through you head.  Your thoughts are soon interrupted by a picture flashing onto your screen.

You inhale sharply as you take in the image of your boyfriend, standing in front of a mirror in the men’s locker room wearing a scowl on his face and not much else.

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It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

The thing about being somewhat of a “celebrity” is that everyone wants a piece of you. And being in the spotlight comes with the expectation that you owe your fans something in return for their support. Kent loves social media. He loves Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, all of it. Which makes it a little easier to fill that expectation, to give his fans something more than just goals and wins. It certainly makes it easier for him than it is for guys like Jack, who seem to break out in hives just thinking about social media.

Kent’s 1.4 million followers on Twitter, 1.2 million followers on Instagram (2.5 million when you combine his account with Kit’s) and over 800K followers on Snapchat make him one of the most followed athletes in the world. He’s by far the most followed hockey player, with more followers than some of the NHL teams themselves. He keeps all three running pretty well. Mainly because he enjoys it, he loves sharing his life with his fans.

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Following the attack on the Institute Alec discovers Magnus put him in his will.

A few days following the attack on the Institute Alec went to the Hotel Dumort to apologize to Raphael for his earlier behavior. He felt wrong in his actions and Magnus was close with Raphael, so he wanted to make sure everything was settled between them without any hard feelings either way. He certainly hadn’t expected to find out what he did.

When Alec had appeared at the door, the vampires in Raphael’s clan watched him warily, but made no attempt to stop him from entering despite having injured their clan leader only days ago. He assumed Raphael had instructed them not to hurt him, probably for Magnus or Izzy’s sake more than his own.

When Alec arrived at Raphael’s office it became readily apparent that Raphael had entirely misread the situation. He believed Alec had come to discuss something that Magnus had told him about days before. And in that moment Alec discovered that Magnus had gone to Raphael the day following the attack on the Institute and told Rafael that he had created a new will.

Raphael even showed him a copy of the will. There were only four recipients in the will. Raphael, Catarina, Tessa, and Alec. But practically everything was to go to Alec. Most of his fortune, his homes in the far reaches of the world, including his New York loft, and almost all his possessions. The remainder of his fortune, which was still a rather hefty sum, was to be given to Raphael, Catarina and Tessa and the remainder of his possessions, mostly magical items and spell books, were to be given to Catarina. Magnus had also given Raphael a letter to give to Alec in the event of his death, which Raphael had refused to give to him.

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Ten Years (Part 12)

Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work, reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume her, or will she see the future in her grasp?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,065 (I AM OUT OF MY MIND)

Warnings: language, fluff, excessive sweetness

A/N: Tags are closed. This is the second to last part. I came THISCLOSE to having another cliffhanger, but I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to drag it out just to torture you. PS - IT’S SO FLUFFY I’M GONNA DIE!

Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Originally posted by adamisstillinhellthankstoyou

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history-rover  asked:

You asked for it. When the Scot Ties The Knot AU. 😜

okay, bit of background. we were talkin in discord about scottish twitter, which then transmuted into a talk about scottish romance novels, and then i brought up the greatest romance novel premise i’ve ever heard of: when a scot ties the knot by tessa dare. i’ve never actually read this book besides the back cover and some choice passages from my friend @galpaladvns who got it for her birthday or smth (all i really remember from that night was @funnythingsandphysics hunting through the pages for the smut which apparently took ¾ths of the book to get to?) but basically….. what happens next is the rough premise of the book, but viktuuri. and (very heavily winged) historical, because @kazliin and i are in agreement that there should be more period drama viktuuri anyway 


When a Russian is Rushin’ to Marry: Or, the Unexpected Consequences of Inventing a Boyfriend

“I’m so jealous of you,” Phichit laments as he helps Yuuri get ready for the evening’s events. “I remember my first season like it was yesterday. Everything’s so exciting and bright your first time around; I wish I could experience it again!”

Yuuri says nothing, only turns slightly to watch the way the light catches on his blue brocade waistcoat in the mirror. “I don’t know,” he admits after a moment. “I’m probably going to be dreadfully old, especially in comparison to young Mr Plisetsky who’s also debuting this season.”

“Well, sometimes people like a late bloomer,” Phichit chides, patting his forearm. “Now turn, so I can help with your ascot.”

Yuuri lets him adjust the silken material with a weary sigh. He’d been putting off his entrance into society for as long as could be deemed socially acceptable, mostly for his nerves. But with each passing season, his parents would get more and more concerned that he wouldn’t marry and settle down, and eventually he’d caved. Tonight’s soiree would mark his debut, and it was about as quiet an affair as he could manage. Still, the thought of being approached tonight with potential suitors continues to threaten to overwhelm him at any given moment. 

“Deep breaths, Yuuri,” Phichit offers kindly as he pats at his now properly-tied ascot. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“You sound more confident about this than I feel,” Yuuri retorts. Phichit helps him into his tailcoat with a grin.

“You’re a divine dancer, Yuuri,” he points out. “Who could say no to you?”

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Bound to Happen (Part 1), Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Prompt: The chronicles of being Lin’s assistant to maybe something more.

Words: 1,373

Author’s Note: Title taken from a quote from Donna, that their relationship was ‘bound to happen sometime’. Heavily based off of West Wing, if you never watched it, sorry, but I hope you’re still able to enjoy this.

Warnings: Slow, slow, slow burn.

Askbox | Masterlist | Casting (according to me) | Next Chapter


You knew you shouldn’t have gone out with the girls last night. The slightest breeze had you nearly doubled over in hungover induced pain. Still, Lin needed you.

The Richard Rogers Theater door slammed behind you, a long groan echoing from you and a few girls who had found home on the cold floor of the stage. Their cheeks were pressed against the cement in an attempt to ease their aching heads and bones with little relief.

Hey!” Karen stood at the other side of the stage, completely unaffected by the literal bottles of liquor she had consumed only hours ago. “Is Lin here yet?”

Her eyes were narrowed and her arms were crossed around her chest. She tried not to show it, but she was pissed.

“I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.” You offered, watching her hair swish as she sauntered off. If there was one person you certainly didn’t need on your bad side as your brain pounded for relief, it was Karen.

A glance at your watch confirmed the time and you knew Lin would be turning onto the block right about now. You hustled backstage, pouring coffee into a to-go cup along with the appropriate amount of sugar and milk.

Balancing coffee in your hand and a memo pad in another, you made your way back outside the theater. Shielding your eyes from the glaring morning sun, you watched as Lin skipped down the block in your direction.

“Karen’s looking for you.” You told him as soon as he was in earshot.

“Huh?” Was his intelligent response, readjusting the strap on his backpack.

“Karen is looking for you.”

“Usually ‘good morning’ is an approved greeting for this time of day.” He continued his trek past you.

Good morning.” You forced, head continuing to pound incessantly.

“What’s up?” He stopped at the door when you made no move to follow him.

“Karen is looking for you.” You repeated, eyes threatening. “I’m saying that Karen is looking for you.” Your eyes shined a threatening glance at the importance.

“Oh shit.” He sighed, wishing he hadn’t come in today, let alone be breathing in a world where he had pissed off Karen Olivo, “What did I do?”

You shrugged, offering him the cup of coffee.

“What’s this?”

Coffee,” You gestured to the little logo of a steaming cup on the side, “Says so right here.”

“No, why did you get me this? You never bring me coffee.” He finally decided to man up and swing the door open, taking a few hesitant steps into the theater. He glanced around. No Karen in sight.

His eyes shot to you when there was a lack of response. He watched for a moment as you busied yourself with your memo pad, crossing out paragraphs and starring important deadlines.

“Hey.” He nudged your side, gaining your attention, “How long have you worked for me?”

Technically I don’t work for you. I’m your assistant, but you don’t pay me, the theater does.” You eyes were back on your pad, “They certainly don’t pay me enough.” You mumbled, which Lin chose to ignore for this conversation.

“How long have you been my assistant?” He tried.

“Here? Two years.”

“How many times has Karen been upset with me?”

“How many days are in two years?” You tilted your head, attempting quick math in your head.

“Okay, so we can agree Karen is always mad at me. I don’t plan on dying today. At least, not at the hands of Karen Olivo.” He smiled, though you were still unconvinced considering the daggers Karen had glared just minutes ago.

Lin-Manuel Miranda!” Came her shriek, more than likely from across the theater. She was quite the belter.

“This might be my last meal.” Lin visibly deflated, taking a long sip of his coffee as you pushed him in the direction of where Karen had taken off. “When I die today, tell my story.” He shuffled off, leaving you with your list of tasks for the day and an ensemble of women staring at you from the floor of the theater.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mandy smirked, mid stretch, “Nothing at all.”

You hustled off without a second thought to the looks each of the girls shared. Working with Lin for the years you had were rough and patchy. You went all the way back to college, to the very first drafts of In the Heights. Back when he couldn’t get half a dozen musicians to play his music, let alone fill a tiny theater with people who wanted to watch it.

When it was announced that he would be spearheading the student production with an actual band and an actual cast and an actual creative team, it also came with an opening for an unpaid internship. Needing quick experience to top off your resumes, you applied and were never allowed to look back.

Lin took a liking to you immediately and practically called dibs on you. You were by his side whenever you could be, and when you weren’t he was sneering at whoever took you away.

You never expected him to take you this far - to Broadway. Yet, as you bustled around the theater to make sure nothing would fall apart, you didn’t regret a single second you spent by his side.

Most days were spent doing everything under the sun and more. Setting up appointments, shifting through interview questions and making sure Lin didn’t run himself into the ground.

It was a tough job to say the least, but when you went home several hours after you were supposed to be off, you still had a smile on your face knowing you made someone’s day a bit easier.

Meeting up with Lin before the show was routine, although the air seemed a bit tense after his conversation with Karen. You didn’t push it, knowing that if he wanted you to know about it he would have blurted out every detail the second you walked through the door.

You sat on his dressing room chair as he adjusted his collar in the mirror, eyes heavy but determined. Your pen clicked against his desk.

“Stop that.” He told you, eyes not moving from the mirror before him.

You clicked your pen once more to test the waters. His eyes shot to you in a small glare and you pulled back, not wanting to push him before a performance.

“What do we have?” He asked, settling into his couch and fixing his gaze on you.

You reviewed his schedule, a heavy emphasis on the appearance the cast would be making on Lopez Tonight, the first late night show he had ever been on.

“I have a date that night so I’ll miss the performance, but I’ll be able to see you guys off from here.” You added, quickly moving on to the next item.

“A what?”

“A date. You should really try one sometime. I have at least a dozen names whenever you’re ready.”

Lin rolled his eyes as he pushed away the thought of you having a life outside the theater and why he hadn’t been informed of it. In particular, why he wasn’t a part of it.

“That’s fine.” He said, moving to search through his mini-fridge. “Did you get more-”

“Behind the raisin bread.” You muttered, shuffling through your notes, “And I didn’t ask for your permission. Nor do I need it.”

Uh huh.” He pushed aside the raisin bread, greeted with cups of applesauce. “I should vet this guy, what’s his social security number?”

“He’s a teacher, he’s a nice guy, and he’s taking me out to dinner.”

Lin stuck his tongue out at the positive description.

“You haven’t even met him and you’re tossing him in the trash. At least I give the losers you date a chance.”

“I don’t date los-”

Claire.” You quirked your eyebrow, challenging a comeback.

“Fair point.” He tossed the now empty cup of applesauce just as places were called. “I gotta work. Keep my life going while I’m out there, yeah?” He winked before disappearing, not to be seen again until intermission where he would scarf down whatever lunch you picked up for him.

He would surely be dead without you there.

Patater Week - Day 4

Feb. 9 - Alternate Universe – Soulmate AU, 2.4K (everyone has their soulmate’s first thought about them on their skin – both still in NHL - coda of sorts to Dot Your Ts and Cross Your Is


“You’re in a good mood today,” Jack comments, as slides in next to Tater in the nook.

“Mhm,” Tater hums and chews his sandwich. “I find soulmate,” he says, like he’s commenting on the weather.

Snowy and Thirdy look up from their breakfast, and Marty nearly snorts out his cereal. Guy pats him on the back a little harder than necessary.

“You found your soulmate, Tater?” Poots asks carefully. “Like, the one who said ‘You’re tall and hot, I want to die,’ that soulmate?”

Almost everyone’s seen that particular marking in the locker room, and though no one actually voiced it, a large majority of the team had covered up their jealousy with chirps. Who doesn’t want a confidence booster like that as a soulmark? Tater simply nods, and Thirdy flies up, excited.

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